A popular saying goes “a problem shared is half solved.” Yes! But a heart bottled in the pain of humiliation can never know peace. The issue of rape is one which is discussed and shared amongst us, but yet without the simplest solution.This is very perturbing, and thus has sounded the alarm within us to keep on speaking till we can reduce or inhibit this violence and ungodly act.
Let us not fold our arms and watch our ‘PRIDE’ being trampled upon and tormented without giving it a fight.
Rape is fiercer than a civil war, yet if we must win this battle, we must fight with our heart and watch on.
#Bloggersville presents “the pain of a withered rose, a trumpet for war.”
Kindly read DAY FOUR’s posts ……………..there are two of them today. it’s my 50th post. 😀 I had to make it special.
SHE SAID NO
She said no
It meant no, and not yes
You grabbed her hair
And tore her dress.
And bruised her flesh.
What you didn’t know
Was the gaping hole you left in her soul.
What you didn’t know…
Daddy was never around
Mother said he was in heaven
Grandma said he was in hell
Years ago, like you today
Violence had conceived you
Your mothers freedom to choose
Taken from her.
Bruised. Humiliated. Denied. Abandoned. Then you.
She would swear she taught you better.
Respect. Especially for a woman’s choice.
Self-control. Because that is how men ruled the world.
Love. Because it isn’t forceful, nor violent and never about sex.
She said no.
It meant no, and not yes.
You grabbed her hair
And tore her dress.
And the demon, the hate, the evil
That conceived you
Was in manifest.
How do you look at yourself in the mirror and not cringe?
There are guns, and knives.
Then there is your penis, and your mind.
She said no. It meant no. And not yes.
Written by Caleb Olorunmaiye
Follow him on twitter: @_ceefour
This a true life story!!!
My name is Efe and I finished from UNIBEN. That’s all I will be willing to share on this platform as I crave my anonymity.
Where do I begin from? I am a rape victim and now …..
It all started some few years ago while I was seeking admission into the tertiary. I was eager and full of life. I had a male friend whom I had a strictly platonic relationship with, and that’s because I was aware most guys were interested in the triangle between my legs.
Let’s call his name Jeff. He was cute and easy going, and had a way with words. He carried himself in an aristocratic way and commanded the respect of student because of the air of superiority he evoked. Ummm, am I eulogizing him? Far be it from me. I am just saying the obvious. I lost contact with him when he eventually gained admission into the university.
I went for pre-degree but eventually wasn’t good enough for the admission because I was carried away by the liberty trusted unto me unbidden. I lost focus and failed woefully.
Thank God for another opportunity to re-write JAMB. I sat for the exam and passed. I got admitted into UNIBEN, and wow, my dream of studying Industrial microbiology became a reality.
I stayed with my God-mother until I was able to stay alone. The day of my matriculation soon came and I was buzzing with happiness. I was still intact and untouched below the belt, you get my gist! A vir….
My godmother got an urgent call, and so she left without sharing in my celebration. “Tsack! Such is life” , I sigh in Ibadan accent.
I am not a particularly party person but I was overjoyed to see Jeff in the same school with me and especially as a “staylite”. We gisted and talked for most of the day after the matriculation and he insisted on following me to my hostel.
He stayed put even when the hour was getting late. I urged him to leave but he shrugged, “what are you afraid of?” He asked for the umpteenth time and I relaxed.
He slept on the couch – my temporary sleeping space – while I slept on my godmother’s bed in her absence.
In the middle of the night, I was dreaming about the long soothing conversation with a friend from the past. I felt the presence even before the touch, I saw another Jeff with sweat glistering his forehead, eyes bulging with animalistic desire and his third leg threatening to burst the seams of his trouser. His hands were groping everything under my dress without invitation. I opened my mouth to scream but in a flash he stuffed some clothing into my opened mouth.
I pleaded and whimpered but Jeff tore off my undies and with the carefulness of a pervert he thrust his bulging manhood into me, tearing my fragile hymen and taking away my innocence with it.
Every thrust damaged my self-worth, dignity and every iota of my personality. After the damage was done, he looked at me like trash and whipped his bloody flaccid member on my lacy white and shredded panties. Leaving me with a damaged ego and damaged panties.
I refused to tell anyone but the scar of the event and the damage done to my psyche is irreparable. I avoided men like a plague but that also couldn’t heal or help me.
Six months down the line, he came begging. He said it was the devil’s handiwork and that he loves me – blah blah blah. His sweet nonsense was irritating me but I played along because I had my well planned and thought out revenge package for him. I agreed to date him but guess what? Revenge is sweet when served cold.
As I keep saying, any man that rapes a woman is less than an animal, because animals in their wretchedness don’t RAPE. I stand up against all forms of domestic violence and rape.
Written by Isaacola AA
Follow @newnaija on twitter
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