Vivian shares her story...
Little girl I was, full of naivety and selfless love, obeying my beloved, belaboured single mum, I had to stay with a beautiful family from noon to dusk when mum would be back from work.
The family seemed all beautiful, and to me it was an ideal home anyone would love to have – a good father, loving and hardworking mother, three sons and I was the only girl spending most of my back-from-school hours with them, so technically, I became their sister. The first son was twenty-one years old, he was two years older than the second son, the third son was eleven, while I (little sister) was barely thirteen years old.
The tendencies of a growing teen-girl were all on me; I was learning to trust people with my emotions, seeking acceptance from the opposite sex, imaging the unrealistic as needful, bottling up issues and characterising my actions as a show of maturity.
Never missing a day of the week in their house, I got so familiar and overly comfortable with the boys. Needful to say, it was around the time I was learning to live life without a father, so I had emotional vacuum that needed refill and the naivety of my little heart brought me to seek comfort in the arms of my friends turned brothers. So, gradually we became so close and you outrightly won’t know we weren’t blood siblings.
I had been informed of rape cases from my mum, school, church and older friends but no one thought to tell me that it doesn’t happen every time in the stereotypical “dark foot path” storyline.
I never knew there was domestic rape, until that dreadful sunny afternoon.
My day at school was quite long; I was tired and almost praying the school bus shows up. When it finally did, I dragged my tired self into the bus and soon, at about 3:30 pm, I got home (My usual after-school abode). Ken and George where the only ones I met at home that day, and unfortunately so. On entering the house and greeting them, I noticed their countenance had changed from the lovely brothers I knew to angry monsters that were out to harm me, the 19 year old walked up to me with a wicked smile and softly held my left arm, I stood confused, my blood pumping faster and faster, he noticed I was afraid, but Ken the 21 year old brother gave him a sign I couldn’t understand, they had skilfully planned the attack, the next thing was that I found myself stuck in between two grownups on a standard family sized bed. I pleaded to no avail, I cried, screamed, but everywhere was dead quiet. We struggled and It was brutal to my young, tender self. I will forever be grateful to their loving mum who normally would get back from work at about 6 PM, but strolled in at some minutes past 4 PM, exactly the time of the attack, God used her to save me on that Wednesday evening from their manly grip.
I had a pitiful experience, but as I looked a bit, I discovered I would have avoided the scene if I knew better. You see, those boys did not suddenly become monsters, they had shown signal that I failed to decode. You might want to know some self-help rules I learnt of my story.
RULE 1: Never get too comfortable to loosen your guards.
While at home together, they (the older brothers) often made a joke of my growing feminine body, at different occasions they tried to fondle my body, but I didn’t consider it as a threat so, I did nothing about it.
One of the days too, I dropped off the school bus and as I strolled into the compound, I met the second of the two boys sexually stimulating himself- masturbation you’d call it, but I never heard of the word until much later. That was another signal but I looked over – taking it to be nothing.
Gradually, I started running errand of helping to rub the first and second son’s back on the excuse of tiredness, I thought it to be nothing too. Another time, I walked in on them seeing a pornography movie. You could guess right, I thought it be nothing harmful to me [Since I saw rape as a punishment from a hurting person to another individual]
RULE 2: Never underestimate the capabilities of an unchallenged individual, confront the situation early enough.
Little did I know that my friends turned brothers could be with untold evil intentions.
Many a times, we say “He is my uncle, cousin or she is my aunt, so she would do me no harm.” Well, I’ve learnt that in as much as there’s allowance for trust, the heart of man is desperately wicked.
RULE 3: You might not always successfully map out an escape plan alone, so involve other trusted people.
Especially in domestic rape, that uncle, aunty or sibling wouldn’t fix an appointment to sexually molest you, talk more of affording you the opportunity to plan your way out. The more reason you should be alert and proactive.
When you see the signs, look out for trustworthy individuals that can help and talk to them about your fears.
If only I had informed my mum, I probably would never have had to stay back in that house after the masturbation drama.
RULE 4: Bottling things up doesn’t define you as mature.
Speak out because sometimes silence does more harm. Let’s break this code of silence together.
#DealingWithTheEnemyWithin
#BreakingTheCodeOfSilence
#IStandWithTheWholeTeenager
Vivian shares her story...
Little girl I was, full of naivety and selfless love, obeying my beloved, belaboured single mum, I had to stay with a beautiful family from noon to dusk when mum would be back from work.
The family seemed all beautiful, and to me it was an ideal home anyone would love to have – a good father, loving and hardworking mother, three sons and I was the only girl spending most of my back-from-school hours with them, so technically, I became their sister. The first son was twenty-one years old, he was two years older than the second son, the third son was eleven, while I (little sister) was barely thirteen years old.
The tendencies of a growing teen-girl were all on me; I was learning to trust people with my emotions, seeking acceptance from the opposite sex, imaging the unrealistic as needful, bottling up issues and characterising my actions as a show of maturity.
Never missing a day of the week in their house, I got so familiar and overly comfortable with the boys. Needful to say, it was around the time I was learning to live life without a father, so I had emotional vacuum that needed refill and the naivety of my little heart brought me to seek comfort in the arms of my friends turned brothers. So, gradually we became so close and you outrightly won’t know we weren’t blood siblings.
I had been informed of rape cases from my mum, school, church and older friends but no one thought to tell me that it doesn’t happen every time in the stereotypical “dark foot path” storyline.
I never knew there was domestic rape, until that dreadful sunny afternoon.
My day at school was quite long; I was tired and almost praying the school bus shows up. When it finally did, I dragged my tired self into the bus and soon, at about 3:30 pm, I got home (My usual after-school abode). Ken and George where the only ones I met at home that day, and unfortunately so. On entering the house and greeting them, I noticed their countenance had changed from the lovely brothers I knew to angry monsters that were out to harm me, the 19 year old walked up to me with a wicked smile and softly held my left arm, I stood confused, my blood pumping faster and faster, he noticed I was afraid, but Ken the 21 year old brother gave him a sign I couldn’t understand, they had skilfully planned the attack, the next thing was that I found myself stuck in between two grownups on a standard family sized bed. I pleaded to no avail, I cried, screamed, but everywhere was dead quiet. We struggled and It was brutal to my young, tender self. I will forever be grateful to their loving mum who normally would get back from work at about 6 PM, but strolled in at some minutes past 4 PM, exactly the time of the attack, God used her to save me on that Wednesday evening from their manly grip.
I had a pitiful experience, but as I looked a bit, I discovered I would have avoided the scene if I knew better. You see, those boys did not suddenly become monsters, they had shown signal that I failed to decode. You might want to know some self-help rules I learnt of my story.
RULE 1: Never get too comfortable to loosen your guards.
While at home together, they (the older brothers) often made a joke of my growing feminine body, at different occasions they tried to fondle my body, but I didn’t consider it as a threat so, I did nothing about it.
One of the days too, I dropped off the school bus and as I strolled into the compound, I met the second of the two boys sexually stimulating himself- masturbation you’d call it, but I never heard of the word until much later. That was another signal but I looked over – taking it to be nothing.
Gradually, I started running errand of helping to rub the first and second son’s back on the excuse of tiredness, I thought it to be nothing too. Another time, I walked in on them seeing a pornography movie. You could guess right, I thought it be nothing harmful to me [Since I saw rape as a punishment from a hurting person to another individual]
RULE 2: Never underestimate the capabilities of an unchallenged individual, confront the situation early enough.
Little did I know that my friends turned brothers could be with untold evil intentions.
Many a times, we say “He is my uncle, cousin or she is my aunt, so she would do me no harm.” Well, I’ve learnt that in as much as there’s allowance for trust, the heart of man is desperately wicked.
RULE 3: You might not always successfully map out an escape plan alone, so involve other trusted people.
Especially in domestic rape, that uncle, aunty or sibling wouldn’t fix an appointment to sexually molest you, talk more of affording you the opportunity to plan your way out. The more reason you should be alert and proactive.
When you see the signs, look out for trustworthy individuals that can help and talk to them about your fears.
If only I had informed my mum, I probably would never have had to stay back in that house after the masturbation drama.
RULE 4: Bottling things up doesn’t define you as mature.
Speak out because sometimes silence does more harm. Let’s break this code of silence together.
#DealingWithTheEnemyWithin
#BreakingTheCodeOfSilence
#IStandWithTheWholeTeenager
Comments
Post a Comment