On the fateful day, I laid down helpless & waited for the worst. I had been battered for attempting to fight back. My clothes had been pulled and soaked in a bucket of water. I had to surrender. I couldn’t over-power the predator. I was 18. I was a virgin. I must have screamed ‘Please don’t hurt me! I beg you in the name of God! I’m a virgin! I have never done this before!” a million times. I kept screaming that until my mouth could utter no more words. As he pulled down his trousers and made to thrust his member inside of me, I screamed with what seemed like my last breath. “Please don’t do this to me! I am a virgin…I am a virgin….” my voice was now cracked and faint.
He proceeded to thrust but couldn’t go through. “So you are actually a virgin? I thought you were lying!” I nodded to affirm. He got up. “I will dry up your clothes so you could leave. I hate virgins!” A divine intervention?? I couldn’t believe my luck!! “But….” he continued, “You would have to make me cum. If you don’t know how to do that, I will teach you” I hate to recall how the bastard went about that. I was bruised and torn. It took me several years to learn that sex could be enjoyed, and not a weapon.
Seems predators always leave scary warnings in the end. He warned me never to tell anyone what happened. He threatened fire and hell if I did. I agreed I wouldn’t, and I ended up not telling a soul….until many years after.
I shuddered and shivered for several years anytime I remembered. It was such a gory episode to recall. It takes strength to recount it. It’s not an easy tale to tell, especially in an African setting where people judge you, blame you for letting it happen to you, and even ask you for evidence!
Thank you Busola Dakolo for helping me bring this out of my innermost. This is like a renewal to most victims. And hey, your truth is yours. It may not be their truth, but it is yours, and it glitters! Continue to own that truth. I stand with you. I stand with justice #istandwithbusoladakolo