Letter To My Rapist And His Kinds

Dear Rapist(s),

It’s been two hundred and twenty-nine (229) days since you and your clique broke into my house and acted based upon your juvenile stupidity, naivety, confusion and immaturity, and wow, it has been a journey.

A Survivor’s Tale

She is a young girl who has her own story of rape, abuse and survival.

She has chosen to speak up and demystify abuse and rape.

She was a part of the team that visited Ajigbeda Senior Girls High School, Surulere Lagos, where she shared her story

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Read her story…

“Molestation for me started at the tender age of seven. It started with a certain Uncle John. Dad lost his job Mum would drop me off at his shop when I came back from school. He would put me on his laps and ‘rock’ me or so I thought.

Survivor Corners -2

Everyday, while we feign ignorance at the rate of abuse that goes in the society, we are hit with tales of various victims.

Fathers are abusing their children, Brothers, Sisters, neighbours are not left out. Yet we try to justify rape and sexual abuse/molestation. A couple of days ago, social media knew no peace as shameless men and women tried so freaking hard to justify an act of sexual molestation.

Yet, we cry foul when the disease hits home, till it hits someone related to you. I sincerely pray it doesn’t, you may never recover from it.

HERE is yet another tale from a survivor.

The Untold Story of a Survivor

                               

Everyday of my life, I come online to do my usual thing, looking for the latest gist in town and there’s no day that passes by that I won’t read news like this “Uncle rapes 13 year old girl”, “Father molest daughter age 3” “Boy molest/rapes girl age 5” and so on etc.

Such news takes me back to my adolescent and teenage years, why am I writing this? Because I am victim of “Child Molestation”.

Those days weren’t the days of social media that one could come out to say how it happened or even tell a neighbour. The worst is even when you voice it out to your parents, you get the beatings of your life.
I never knew how I was deflowered because it started as a child’s play. You can just imagine when babes discuss their first time and my mouth is always 😷 because I have no idea of how it all started. I remembered vividly that as a 5+ year old child, I was practicing it with some kids older than me, I remembered one “Uncle Sunny” that lived with us then use to molest me very well and at a point I was really enjoying it thinking it was something good, but if it was good, why hiding to commit such abominable act at that adolescent age?

At a point I got tired of the whole mess. It didn’t end there, my teenage years was worst as I had 2 cousins (one bears the same surname with me) who were always molesting me, I had no one to turn to report to, even if I do who will believe me? No one! The first cousin(David, a name I don’t really like) later left the house and the 2nd came a year later. He was the worst, that guy gave me infections at the age of 14.

My parents thought he was doing good by always helping me out with my school work(someone who’s unintelligent) not knowing he was busy molesting me at midnight, everyday he tells one lie or the other against me and always threatening to report me to my dad of things I didn’t do or have knowledge of.

I remember when some friends came to visit me and I wasn’t at home, I came back to receive the beatings of my life because he told my parents they were my boyfriends(not even one is my boyfriend but all of them) and from there on, he started to molest me. I got tired of his threats and molestation and I opened up to my parents one day via a letter, I told them I want to leave the house because I was tired of the molestation. Dad came from Night duty to read the letter and mum read hers too, I expected them to support and show me love but it was a different ball game as the pedophile called Solomon(i don’t like people bearing that name) was sent to my school to escort me back home and on our way home, he told me to better deny everything that happened. When we got home, I didn’t deny anything but I got the beatings of my life till I was bleeding from my mouth, when the beatings and threats of taking me to the village that I have never been to before were becoming unbearable, I had to go deny it to save my head and apologized for the truth which I spoke out. Even the Solomon played the victim of being lied against, he took a kitchen knife and wanted to kill himself in the room where I was kept.

The tears in my eyes won’t let me continue this write up. I will continue tomorrow.

Note: All you ministers of information, keep doing your job of showing my Facebook post to my family members, it won’t stop me from writing the bitter truth. I have passed that stage of being scared of anything; ok? Look I am not ashamed of writing my Molestation story.

-Erhuvwu Beauty Obireh

You can find her on facebook here

When A Father Slut-Shames His Daughter

                                        

“I remember when I was staying with my biological father. My cousins came around. Popsy said they should bring an extra bed to my room for one of them to crash.

The guy woke up at night, put a hand across my mouth and was trying to force my legs apart. He said he will kill me if I screamed or said a word.

I was calm. As he struggled to pull my pant I told him I wanted to pee. After much deliberation he let me go to pee. I remained in the bathroom till morning when my dad wanted to pee. He asked why I was locked in the bathroom by 4 am and I told him what happened. He said it was my fault… Why would I wear nightie. I didn’t even have boobs then.