I happen to be one of those who experienced early maturity. I mean developing breasts when my mates were still running around topless. I had my first bra when I was 10. I remember clearly that sunny afternoon, I was outside the compound with my dad when this woman with all sorts on a tray balanced on her head was passing by. To my uttermost dismay, my dad called her and began to negotiate the prices of bras in the presence of some men in the compound. I was beyond embarrassed. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me. Eventually, he settled for a lemon green bra. It was a really cute bra though. But the honest truth is that I remember that day vividly more out of embarrassment that excitement of getting my very first bra. My classmates didn’t make it any better. Teasing because the order of the day. They gave me a nickname I’d rather not say. It was humiliating. It was horrible. I was helpless. But who am I to fault God. We are big chested in my family. I eventually had to learn to deal with it. And that…is the end of my story.