HE WROTE:
This is my first time of writing you and I've never made any comment about this horror. If you think you are working in vain, please stop thinking like that. You are ministering to souls that may never be bold enough to come out to give testimonies or share their stories. I'm one of those souls and this is my opportunity to say thank you. I'm blessed by this and I don't have to mention names but you have all changed my life and saved a soul.
I don't personally see the word sex when I read your posts but I pay attention to read the undertone messages. You are a very smart and interesting writer.
I’m a victim of sexual abuse since I was twelve, first it was my pastor. My parents trusted him so much they almost gave me away to him as a child. Everything was about the pastor and I was practically dependent on his mentor-ship. He raped me one day after I turned twelve. It started from little gestures and buying gifts and sometimes, he would ask my parents for me to pass the night or go out of town with him. It was one of those out of town weekends that he gave me alcohol and raped me. He assured me something would happen to my family if I ever say anything to anybody. I went back home a damaged teenager. I withdrew but my parents were too busy to notice that my pastor just took my innocence and youth away from me. Life became empty and I tried to kill myself one day with the rat poison and then he came right on time to check on me!
School suffered and I lost interest in life, I despised anything that had to do with the church. My uncle came to take me from Lagos to live with him in Ibadan and I thought things would be a little better. I was fifteen and my uncle’s wife one day came to my room in the middle of the night to force me to have sex with her. Her husband traveled a lot and seldom stayed at home, the only child was just two years old. I refused but the second time she tried; she must have put a sleeping pill in my food. I woke up in the middle of the night and she was on top of me. I ran out and I was locked outside to sleep with the dog. She lied to my uncle when he came back that I stole her money. The following day after a good beating from my uncle, I actually stole her money to transport back to Lagos. This time I refused to go home but to a friend’s. I became the black sheep of the family but something kept pushing me to stay in school. I did every dirty job to send myself to college with the help of my friend’s mother, he was the only child and the mom made me promise her to finish school no matter what.
Yes, I did but with my Master’s degree and a good job that my mates envied; life was empty and sex to me was a dirty and filthy act. I also stopped going to church since the incident with the pastor. I was on line the day you started the group and I’m one of the first you added too. I've been reading some of your notes on your wall and it’s been almost two years of cleansing, renewing and finding hope in messages from people that don’t know I exist. May 25th was a Friday and God gave me a special gift that day, I met this lady that became my best friend and I’m planning on proposing to her. I’m not obsessed but I just want it to be significant. I went to my mother to tell her what happened and to my surprise she believed me, I lost my father about five years ago. Forgiving her and the pastor was easy because I was already going through a life changing experience.
Now, I see life differently, I’m healed and I know there is hope for me and others like me. Please next time you get frustrated, think about people like me that might never come out to say thank you but are praying for you secretly.
DrOlubusola Olufemi ©2013
For victims of child sexual abuse and paedophiles, there is hope, SPEAK UP, SPEAK LOUDLY, SPEAK OUT, you just might be saving your life...and that of others...click for part 2 here
6 comments:
There sure is hope but the problem is not all victims are bold enough to SPEAK UP, SPEAK LOUDLY, SPEAK OUT.
Its up to guardians to pay close attention to changes too..
Na wa ooo... This world is wicked. Pastor! Relative!
Cant imagine ging through all these as a child...Thank God u made it...
Am happy you survived, happy that you are standing tall & strong. God will give you the grace to go higher in life.
Parents and guardians need to be more aware of what is going on with their wards.
SurvivorSeries: Almost Raped At 15
Here’s a little story about how I was almost raped at the age of fifteen.
I grew up in Festac Town Lagos. Growing up in the 90′s, the place was known for date rape, gang rape and all sorts of crime.
I was fifteen years old, fresh out of secondary school, a fully developed teenager, bursting with life and very much in love with music.
I had this male friend and our parents were aware of our friendship. They knew we exchanged novels which was okay by them, they didn’t discourage the idea of our friendship.
At the time. My dad, a military officer, had just been posted to Abuja and my mum with my two younger ones had gone visiting. I was home with two of my cousins who were in the university.
On this fateful day, I went with my friend to his house to get a Blackstreet tape and a novel. Yes, CDs were not common, as of then. He left me in his room and went to another part of the house. To do what, I can’t remember now.
Suddenly, his elder cousin bursts in reeking of weed. Yes, we all knew he smoked weed. I remember being shoved and threatened with a knife. I screamed and begged him not to beat me. Keep in mind, here was this chubby, pimple faced and short fifteen year old being threatened by a tall, knife wielding, older guy. Honestly, I had no chance at all.
I begged him not to beat me and told him I would strip for him. I had started undressing when the door started banging from the other end. My friend, in company of his mum, was screaming and crying. I dressed up and my friend’s mum calmed me down after they gained entrance into the room. After getting myself together, I went home and didn’t tell a soul.
I was ASHAMED!
Fast forward to two or three months later. I went with my dad to Alakija to get a battery for my mum’s car and the boy walked past us. Till tomorrow, I don’t know what expression my dad saw on my face or what his sixth sense had triggered. He asked what the boy had done to me, , my dad turned RED. I mean real RED! When we got home, he told me to repeat the story to my mum. Oh, what a scene it was!
The next morning, my dad woke me up, told me to get dressed and marched me to the boy’s house. I don’t know the conversation he had with my friend’s mum. All I know is that the boy got into the car with us and we drove straight to my house with two soldiers in the car.
The only way I can describe the beating is “maximum shishi”. The beating was so much that my mum started pleading for the boy. After a while, my dad called me and did something I’ll forever be grateful for. He said ” I’ll give you your power back.” Told the boy to kneel and told me to slap the boy. Boy, those are still the two most satisfying slaps I’ve given anyone till date. I truly got my power back!
The gist spread throughout Festac that my dad had a gun. Till we moved out of Festac, no boy came near me or my cousins.
I tell this story after these years for one reason alone. IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT IF YOU GET RAPED! Contrary to what the perpetrator or the society might make you believe. Fine, I was almost raped but I have seen enough rape cases in my time here. I’ve seen girls, once bursting with life, turn recluse and timid.
Rape still remains the world’s most under-reported crime.
Dear victims, please seek help. Talk to someone and go for medicals at the earliest time possible. Report to the police (although I have my reservations about that) and get help from NGOs that specializes in cases like these. Please be strong! If you’re not strong and positive the perverted soul that inflicted the rape will have power over you for life. Stay positive.
Dear parents, please raise your kids properly. Teach them to respect women and vice versa. Teach them that the opposite sex isn’t a sex figure to objectified. Love your children unconditionally and encourage them to talk to you no matter what they are going through.
Follow the hash tag #tweetagainstrape and join the conversation.
There’s power in number.
Peace.
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