He Ran Into My Knife …He Ran Into My Knife 10 Times

************************ “Tick, Tock, Tick Tock” – The clock on the wall talked.
I got up from the floor, pacing slowly, my clothes drenched in wet red, walls bleeding, Time barely crawling when I heard something clatter on the floor.
I didn’t turn around to look, my image on the bedroom mirror lured me… I smiled and then a thought occurred ;
“I have to clean this up, Ayo always hated red, he used to say it was a slut colour, I remembered when I wore the red dress for the kids school party and he shouted at me to go wear something less slutty” I walked towards the mirror, admiring my body, my hands drawing smooth lines up my hips, slightly stroking my pudenda before grabbing the mount of flesh on my chest, I threw my head back, reveling in the warmth, the wet red had. The words spoken by that stranger at the mall replaying in my head as I touched myself – “You are beautiful”
Its been such a long time, I heard that.

I giggled, walked in to the bathroom and grabbed a bucket, bleach and a mop. I went downstairs and turned on the stereo, letting the music serenade me as I cleaned the house. I gently removed the sheets from the bed, rolling him to the floor as I put on clean white sheets, Ayo always loved white sheets. “The time is 3pm” – the clock tocked, this time I looked at it…

I hurried my cleaning, took a warm shower and went to the kitchen to make lunch. The children will be back soon. “Hello, who’s at home” – I heard my mother in law shout from the living room and i rushed out, mama always hated to be kept waiting. “Good Afternoon mama” – I said, my knees kissing the floor in typical yoruba fashion.

She hissed at me “I picked up my grandchildren from school on my way here, is their food ready? – she said in her usual aggressive manner. My children gave me their bags and walked to the dining table requesting their food. ” Aunty Ada, I want indomie” – Kola said, my daughter shook her head in unison. “but I already made rice” – I said but no-one was listening. My mother in law hissed again waving at me to go into the kitchen and make what the children wanted.
I walked into the kitchen and began boiling the water for the noodles when I heard her scream… “haaaaaaaa, oh my God, oh my God, Haaa mo ti ku, Ayo, Ayo”

I didn’t flinch, I continued making the noodles, I could hear her calling the police but it was 4pm and the children must have their lunch before 4pm, Ayo always demanded it.

“you evil witch, you killed my son” – she kept screaming as she walked down the stairs.

I sat on one of the chairs, taking in every facet of my children, I loved them very much but I didn’t have any chance to tell them.

My mother in law sobbed softly and I could hear the police sirens as they entered the house. “That’s her, that’s the evil witch that killed my son” – she screamed, pointing at me. I didn’t look at her or the men that stood beside her. My children were the only important thing to me. “would they ever know that I am their mother, would they grow to someday love me, would they understand why today happened, have I ruined their lives?” “Madam, please calm down” – one man said to my mother in law. “I warned Ayo not to marry this witch but he wouldn’t listen” – She continued, I was unmoved, she had always been loud, at least now she had a good reason to be.
My gateman Mohammed walked towards the dining table and took my kids away

Another man in plain clothes sat near me, i knew him, he was the one my mother reported to, the last time, Ayo put me in a coma. “Ada, did you kill your husband” – he asked, as he sat on a chair near me. “No, I didn’t, he ran into my knife, he ran into my knife ten times” – I said, my face baring all my innocence.

I was arrested and taken to court. My mother wailed when she saw me, my brother hugged me, his pain seeping through his pores, the tears dropping down the side of his face as he stared at me.
Ayo finally ruined my daughter – I heard my mother say as I stood in the docket.
In court, the prosecution called me a cold hearted killer, my mother in law told everyone how her son cared for and loved me and everytime they asked me if I killed him, I said
“No, he ran into my knife, he ran into it ten times”

My defense lawyer told the court that I was mentally ill and tried to show that I was sexually, physically and psychologically abused but no-one believed him because there were no official reports filed during the periods of abuse. The prosecution asked why i didn’t divorce him if he was so abusive, they called it the tricks of a cold hearted murderer.
The court finally appointed a psychologist to talk to me and on the 8th day of trial, I was put on the stand while the court approved psychologist asked me questions. “So Ada, why did you kill your Husband” – She asked. “I didn’t, he ran into the knife” – I said. “Liarrr” – my mother in law screamed.
“order, order in court, the judge shouted. “ok,, but you were holding the knife” – she asked when order was restored. “Yes I was, but he said, I was never good at anything and that there was no way I was going to do anything to him, so i sat back and let him run into my knife 10 times, like he said I wasn’t good at anything” – I replied. “Did your husband beat you?” – She asked. “shhhh” – I said, putting my finger across my mouth, my eyes scanning the room to make sure no-one heard her before continuing, we are not supposed to talk about that, I deserved that, I always wear slutty clothes when going to the market and sometimes I don’t clean the house properly or make lunch on time, please don’t bring that up again or I will never see my children ” – I ended and then I turned to the judge. “madam, please ask her not to bring it up again, Ayo will take my kids away, please” “ok Ada” – The psychologist said

“ok Ada” – The psychologist said…. “tell us why did you clean the room after stabbing your husband 11 times and killing him” – She asked….. “ohhh I had to, everywhere was messy and filled with red blood. Ayo doesn’t like red, I was afraid he would beat me again, the last time, he broke my skull, I still have severe pains, see…” – I said, turning around and parting my hair so she could see the scar. ” but shhhhh, you can’t tell anyone or I’ll never see my kids again – I concluded…… “Ada, Ayo is dead, you killed ayo your husband! Do you know this–she asked…. “Noooo, no, no, no, no, he’s not dead, he’s alive, in here… – I said pointing and hitting my head as I continued yelling “he’s alive in here!!!” The guards rushed at me, while Marilyn the court psychologist injected me with a sedative.

This happened 12 years ago, I have been under Marilyn’s care in the psych ward of the state prison and today I met my children for the first time in 12 years. They did understand and they love me and felt sorry they were unable to do anything to help me and my daughter called me Mum and she gave me a card that read “You are beautiful”, same words that triggered me to kill my husband 12 years ago.

In a mall, 12 years ago, A stranger reminded me who I was, I was not a slave, a play thing, dummy, maid or slut or any of the names Ayo called me right before he gave me bruises or caved my head in. I AM BEAUTIFUL.


“I hate my mother” – she said, after a brief moment of silence, waking our buried heads up after what we just heard from deola. “I hate my mother” – she repeated, her pretty face scanning ours wondering if we heard her clearly, her fingers clutching each other, he feet scraping the carpet. I could tell she wanted to leave, but the exhilaration she felt after saying those words was just something she never felt before.

We were silent, it’s customary at group sessions to let everyone speak their truth without interruptions. “she’s lazy and I believe she robbed me of my childhood” – she continued, her voice barely a whisper. She was talking and we were listening to the ultimate taboo.

You are not allowed to hate your mother, Ever! Even if she was bad. Especially if she was bad.
I sat there, holding my breath, listening to the screaming thoughts that stood on everyone’s head, their faces gave them away, they tried to hide what they really felt but I’ve seen too many criminal minds and Lie to me to not catch a micro expression. “can you tell us why” – Aisha our host said. “she has never worked a day in her life, all she knows how to do is want things she can’t afford, want to be in a class you cannot afford. We are fucking poor, accept that and agree that I am growing as much as I can, as fast as I can, stop making stupid outrageous demands that you can’t fucking afford, stop pressuring me to be more than I am. All you do is fucking sit there and list all the things your children should do for you, if it was so easy why haven’t you fucking done it yet?? Why do you have to attend every event even when it’s so obviously clear that you can’t fucking afford it and why do you have to make me get you the money every time. You have absolutely no respect for my struggles or pain, when you care about me, its more about you worrying that your cash cow might die or something might happen to me and that will end your money flow, I don’t think your affection is genuine, all you do is talk about your dreams for me… Like do you even ask me about my dreams for me??…. I hate her, I fucking hate her”

She pauses, takes a deep breath, her eyes running around the room, her hands shaking but hurriedly wiping the tears from her face. “I was wondering how I got this way, actually, deeply thinking” – she pauses again, her hand in a fist, placed on her knee, she needed to steady herself, there was so much pent up anger, Too much. “I was thinking how I got this way and it occurred to me that I might have always been this way but I just didn’t know what it was called, no one told me what happiness really was. Mum has always been sad for as long as I’ve known her, her happiness is tied to how much money she has and how she’s able to afford anything she likes and how “people don’t ever get to know that we are poor and struggling” I was forced to grow up, grow up too quickly, I was taught to tie my self worth to how much I could provide, how much money I was bringing in, nothing else I did was enough as far as I brought in money, how I got it didn’t matter; because how can she not know how I got all that money…. Nooo you were just happy to be able to go to all that stupid parties just to show off that you too were also rich”

Deola cried, a lot! And we all cried along, she got up, angry, walked to the punching bag we had in the corner and a few of us got up with her. “I didn’t enjoy my childhood, because I had to do your fucking job! I had to grow up and take care of the children you bore, I lost my years just so you could pretend to every family and friend that we weren’t poor but we were, we were”
Deola punched the bag, punching and going in circles, “aaaaaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhh” – she screamed… “Ohh we were fucking poor and if we had acted our wage mum, maybe we wouldn’t still be fucking poor as we are now, would we? Maybe all that money I made would have been invested in something good and we wouldn’t still have to struggle huh”
She spoke to the bag and punched it.

“you made me loose myself, I never got to understand my self worth because i felt that I was only useful if i did something for someone, I would go through relationship after relationship with this mindset, (he left because I didn’t do enough) … I didn’t think that I was enough, because even you didn’t make me feel like I was enough. I needed to bring home the bacon before I got any reverence with you so why should I expect anyone to love me exactly the way I am. I don’t even know who I FUCKING AM!!!! aaaaaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhh “

This scream was louder than the previous, I brought out my phone and began typing this, watching every mannerism, every gut she spilled, every table she shook…. I write when I’m stressed or in pain (or in love…).
“I love you just the way you are” – I said, I don’t know why I said it, but i just had to.. It needed to be said. Deola continued-
“I don’t know who I am, I don’t know the power I yield and I do not know how to pat myself on the back because no one ever told me that I did or do well. My sense of self is always connected to something or someone, I can’t be on my own because I didn’t learn how to, when I’m on my own, I am nothing, absolutely nothing. Like for reals guys, To my mother, this is a life position, how do you get out from under your own mother….” – Deola turns, her hand placed on her head, it wasn’t a question, it was a cry for help…. We were quiet… We couldn’t offer the help she needed… She continued – “you know my mum’s always looking at me like – why are you always angry…. No wait ma… Care to take a wild guess? – how about the fact that I am always broke even though I don’t have children of my own but yet I make enough money to care for me and 3 kids. Do you guys know I actually tried to have a baby, like I actually tried to have a kid, just so I could get out of that fucking mess. I’m stressed all the fucking time over shit that doesn’t even concern me, i am so tired, just tired, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want her to suffer but I want her to see that it’s not fucking easy and that I do my freaking best!!… I’m done” – she said and I walked towards her and gave her a hug.

“you were writing about me, right” – she said, I shook my head, yes. “Try and make me look tough ok” – she continues and we both chuckled.
We love you Deola, it was a chant we all said at the end of times like this just to make each other feel good.
But none of us felt good, days like today were emotionally draining… We walked back to our seats, the tension in the air palpable. “We understand how you feel Deola and a bunch of us have experienced this phase, family can be many a times very demanding and most times we are bound by our love for them to naturally gravitate towards wanting to satisfy their every whim. Please understand there is nothing more important than your health, nothing, not even family. I will see you after the group – Aisha our host said… “is there anyone with news to share” – she asked… A few minutes go by, before I spoke: “I had sex…” – I said. “I went 3 weeks this second time before eventually doing it” – I continued, my hand in my mouth, I was biting my nails. “or maybe I should do it at 2weeks this next time so I can break the 3weeks curse” – I said in a bid to be funny, no one laughed.
I know that kills my 1 month plan and I’ll have to start all over again and truly I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. I’m not angry or sad, just indifferent. It seems like I am never ever going to be able to pull through…” –
I said and continued. ” I’m writing more now, that is when I find the time, mostly things I can’t post, because people’s don’t have my dark sense of humour” – I smiled, letting out a small laugh… “Ohh we know” – I heard mabel say and the rest of the group laughed. “it’s not that bad” -. I replied and raised my eyebrows

it’s not that bad” -. I replied and raised my eyebrows “ehhh it is o” – Deola said… ” Belle you sent me a story about the way you think I’d most probably die at 11pm at night, who the fuck even looks at people, doesn’t admire their clothes, hair, shoes or bag but instead thinks about the most probable way they’d die…. I stayed awake all through the night because of that crazy story and when I called you, you were laughing, saying things like everyone dies, it’s normal…. I love you babe, but you are cray cray” – she ended her short description by making crazy hand signs around her head…. “OK maybe that was a bit too much but I write, it’s what I do, i write about anything, any thought as they play in my head, what’s so wrong with that” – I responded… Waiting for their chuckling to die down. “I plan to take the whole of June off sex” – I said, my hand still scratching that imaginary spot on my head. “Why not tomorrow” – Aisha asked. “no, I like everything whole” – I said. “Ada, starting tomorrow or next month does not change anything, you do know this is not a permanent ban off sex, it’s just 1 month, 1 month just so you know that you control it, it doesn’t control you” – Aisha responded.

I shook my head… I understand the whole essence of the temporal celibacy. The problem was seeing if I could hold up. “I’m done” – I said “We love you Belle” – They chanted. “well I don’t love any of you bitches” – I responded and we all laughed. We were like a family, collectively we’ve all been through some stuff and it felt good knowing I had them here… Aisha went off on her usual speech about how important it was that we were here and how life is a journey, I wasn’t listening that much, I was busy planning my #NoSexJune until I heard “OK Ladies, we will see in 2 weeks, until then, remember? ….” aisha asked “YOU ARE ENOUGH” – We all chanted like school kids as we grabbed out bags, walking haphazardly to go face the harsh realities of the world.
In here we were safe and no one judged us or called us crazy or dramatic or any other silly names they call people like us.

My Rape Experience

The first time I saw someone who had been raped was in university, I was attending pre-degree classes as I didn’t meet the cut-off mark for Bachelor degree classes the first time around. A virgin living close to my hostel has been raped by 6 armed robbers who came to rob, no one knew if all 6 actually raped her, she was silent for days, wouldn’t give us details, until after 4 days when she slit her wrist and bled to death in her room.
I was very afraid and sad, because I paid her a visit to express my sympathy, I thought she heard me, i felt our visit made all the difference, i thought she was healing… We even had a meeting that anyone found insulting her with it would be banned. I was young and naive, we all were… She locked herself in and did what she did… From that day, the fear of rape was instilled in me, i saw the damage it could do.

In 200 level, I left my house to a friend’s place, she had a textbook I needed to complete my assignment. It would only take a couple of minutes, I thought. My small bag in hand with my books, my 3-quarter pants like it was called then, a long top and a scarf over my head…
A few minutes shy of an hour later, I was done, took a couple of spoons from the rice my friend was eating, then I left… It was the road I always travelled on, it was wide, popular, usually busy and it was just 8pm. A guy was walking towards me, i clutched my bag tightly, he was on the other side “thank God” – I thought, if he tried rubbish, I will just run, I kept saying to myself.

I walked briskly, turning to look at the guy beside me as he walked away, there was another guy in front of me, on the phone, walking on the same side I was… He didn’t seem like a threat, but all the same I went to the pavement close to a big church in front of me and continued walking… He was close to me now and walked past me, my phone rang… I opened my bag just so I could put the phone on silent mode, when someone held me by the neck… I couldn’t breathe….

“if you make any noise, i will blast your head off” – he said, pressing the cold edge of the gun onto my face, he dragged me by the neck into the church. It was a big church, a big field filled with short cut grass covered a few acres before the actual church building, it was fenced all around and I could see that church service was going on. “Lie down here” – he said… I was slow, he slapped me, his hands felt like Iron covered in flesh… I could feel my face swell.

I began to cry, begging him not to rape me, that I just gave birth, I was saying anything to get myself out of that fix, he removed my glasses and flung it to the other side of the grass… I closed my eyes,praying for this church to close and for any, just any of their members to come out.

He tried to kiss me, I moved my lips away and he hit me with the gun right on the bridge of my nose, the pain shredded my entire will, I gave up… I was going to be raped… This was happening, I couldn’t fight him, he kissed me and i allowed him, I have never felt so disgusted in my entire life, he removed my trousers and my panties, I couldn’t fight, didn’t want to, I cried, prayed to God to help me, to send even one person out of the church, is he going to allow me be raped in church, in his own house?

He kissed me again amidst the tears, not letting it bother me, this rapist bent down and licked my pussy, just to wet it enough to gain entry. My body writhed in disgust, my back scratched the grass and I could see the ants feeding on my skin… “stay in one place” – he shouted, his voice masked by the speakers at the front fence, praise the Lord and hallelujahs spurting out of the speaker.
Which God, which Lord, here I was being raped in his own home by someone I didn’t know just because I could not afford textbooks and needed to use a friend’s own…

He thrust in and out of me with brute force, no condom, sometimes kissing me, other times choking me… There was something about me being out of air, this rapist enjoyed. Somewhere in his twisted mind, I was his girlfriend, he would rub on my nipples and kiss me. I prayed to die, I saw her, chiamaka, the girl from my predegree, I finally understood what she felt when this happened to her… “Help me” – I said to her ghost, but it just stood there watching this animal violate me constantly. “help me” – I said, my eyes fixed at the church, hoping that this silent scream would travel to someone’s ears and they will come out to the gate and rescue me. But no one came, nobody at all… He was grunting, the grunts brought me back here, to reality, to this animal that laid on top of me… “do you like it” – he asked? Taunting me, breaking every iota of my soul, laughing at my weakness. I didn’t respond, so he hit my head with the gun, the blood trickled down my face… He got up and used his dick to rub my face. Then he pressed the gun to my head and said ” suck it”. I sat upright and started to beg him, “please sir, I can’t sir, please let me go, I won’t tell anybody.” I was barely 2 buildings away from my hostel and yet my life was ruined so close to my home, my mind drifted and I started to think, why was the field inside the church not lit up, why can’t no one hear me, why don’t they have security patrolling the field around the church… This was a very big expanse of land. Why hasn’t thunder hit this animal on top of me for doing this to me inside the house of God.

The more I begged, the more angry he got, slapping me to shut up and lay back down…. The beating was too much, I was loosing every strength I had, I could either die or let him have his way…. But this was not a person that could be pleaded with…

So i laid back down and let him rub his dick on my mouth, he was laughing as he did so… Each laughter pierced my soul, I was breaking away into nothing… And then the rage began to brew inside of me… I was alone, no one would help me here, I was either going to die or live the rest of my life an invalid because you do not get over things like this… In my heart, I accepted my end.

I thanked God, thanked him for removing me from this world, the pain was too much for me either ways, I prayed for my mama because I knew she would be heartbroken. I was heartbroken, death or accepting to die is such a lonely cold road, you can feel your soul leaving your body, beckoning on your body to go to waste… I opened my mouth and when he put his dick in, I licked it slowly at first, he touched my face with the hand holding the gun and with the other hand, he rubbed on my pussy. He wanted to touch my face again but the gun was in his way so he dropped it by his side. If i stretched well enough, I could touch it, so i bit him a little. He slapped me hard – “take it easy, do it the way, you have been doing it”. I replied “sorry sir, let me adjust, ant is biting me, i will do it how you like, so he dragged his knees backwards and pushed me closer to him. I could touch the gun now.
I continued licking, afraid, the cold air killing me, the ants running away from my dead skin. I closed my eyes, opened them, closed them again and opened them to look at the sky… “mummy I am sorry, God Please Forgive me” – I said… And then I…..

“mummy I am sorry, God Please Forgive me” – I said… And then I bit as hard as I could on his dick, held it with every rage, every pain, every strength I could muster, I held his dick in my mouth biting on it as I stretched myself to grab the gun, I threw it far away from the both of us. He punched my face “leave my prick, leave my prick” – he screamed, but i bit down, the more he stretched to the opposite end to grab the gun, the more I dragged the dick with my teeth, bitting down hard on it, it choked me but i refused to cough.

The punches came from left to right, the blows landed on my stomach, chest, back, body and most especially my face. He was searching for a stone to hit me, the biggest one was a bit too far, all the others near us was small, so he picked it and hit me, but i didn’t leave his dick.
I was ready to die, but he wasn’t… I was going to die, I knew it… The amount of blood I had lost was too much, the blood trickled from my head to my eyes blinding me, i blinked fast, hard, I needed to continue seeing, I needed to know where he went so I could drag his dick the other way… If i die, you die… I could feel the blood from his dick spurting into my mouth…
“we are singing, we are dancing, we are singing, we are dancing hallelujah to the Lord… Singing x2” blasting from the church’s speaker.
Ohh i was singing blood, lots of blood… Dancing and soaking in it… Hallelujah to the most high… I locked my hands behind me, because if he held my hand, he could cause me pain, I didn’t block any of his blows, it landed everywhere… I was in Pains but I was prepared for the pain… I saw death through the blood that covered my eyes, I saw it… It waited there in the shadows, waiting for who dies first, which of us will it be… I knew it was me and i smiled in my heart accepting the grim reaper… Letting him know I was ready, but first I have to violate this animal who violated me…

I could feel his own life leaving him, he was now begging “abeg leave my prick”

In my head, I said, after I cut it out. He resumed a fresh set of blows to my face my teeth pressed harder on it, he dragged himself away and a small skin on top his dick pulled along with my teeth. He ran towards the gun, i got up and ran out of the gate as quickly as a breath in and out, in less than 2 minutes, I burst in through my gate, my gate man coming after me
“Ada, Ada Wetin dey pursue you” – he said in pidgin. I ran to my room, the blood dripping through my face. My room mate screaming “baby baby what happened to you” baby was her pet name for anyone she is friends with. She was a nursing student. I lied I was robbed, I couldn’t bear to tell anyone that someone raped me. The shame was too much for me, i had seen how girls who were raped were treated, they start the questions with what were you wearing like somehow clothing breeds monsters. I wasn’t going to let anyone do that to me. She cleaned me up and nursed my wounds, girls trooped to my room, bearing their condolences… And then I saw it, exactly how little these condolences meant in the face of what I just went through… Nothing would be enough except time… No amount of sorry, God will bring you a new phone was going to be enough… I was broken to my soul, this monster had taken something from me, nothing can replace except God and time… Yes God, still trying to understand why and how I could be raped in his own house… I didn’t sleep all night, I had visions he was going to blast through the hostel, guns blazing and kill me for mutilating him.

I cried, wishing I had died… Wondering why my father wasn’t rich enough to afford all my needs, why i had to get this punishment when I wasn’t even doing anything bad… Like I went to do an assignment at a girl’s house and I get raped on my way back home.

2am and I could hear every bird sound, every ant that crawled on the floor, every door that creaked, every girl on midnight call with a distant lover… I cried, angry at myself for not dying… My face swollen from the blows, my head cut, bruises and black scars every where on my body…

I cried, my hands covering my mouth, shoving my screams back down my throat… My room mate was insisting we go to the hospital tomorrow… “There might be internal bleeding, baby this wound is too plenty, we must go to hospital this night” – I refused, I didn’t want to be near anyone this night. I wanted to be inside my room, I was safe here, on my way to the hospital, I might be raped again. Nothing she said would change that, so she patched me up the best way she can.

The next morning, I walked to the church to pick up my books, some of the church members were at the gate. I walked past them and went in to pick up my bag, books and glasses.
I saw the blood on the grass. I was walking towards the entrance when I saw my room mate explaining the reason why I didn’t greet them and why my bag and books were inside their church, apparently they were angry about that. I didn’t care!
As I walked towards the gate, I heard a man say, I hope its only rob he robbed you, because if you guys had sex here, in God’s house, he will not take it lightly with you, he was pointing at me and the grass… I rushed at him, flinging my bag in the process, he fell to the ground and I kept matching him, I had an advantage cos he never saw me coming and he was slim and old.

Some guy grabbed me from behind, lifting me up, but i was angry… “God punish you and your church, God punish your entire fucking generation, where were you when I was being raped inside this church, where the fuck were you, I swear to God I will kill you, I will fucking kill you….. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…….ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…… I kept screaming like a mad person, my room mate begging me to stop…. “Haa baby, why didn’t you tell me you were raped” – she was crying… The boy held me, my room mate was directing him to our hostel, i was fighting and clawing and screaming, my room mate holding my bag and glasses, crying as she ran after us. “baby please stop, please stop… Baby please its me o, please I’m begging you” everyone looked from their windows wondering what the hysteria was all about, but i didn’t give 2 hooves, I wanted that man to chew back his words..

And so they dragged me to the hospital, my room mate spoke to the nurses on duty, the man who had carried me to the hospital, stood there, looking at me with that pity eyes I hated… I looked away, I wanted no one’s pity…. I and My room mate never told anyone… At least not until today… Years have passed for me…. But in Abuja some days ago, some girls were raped by men that were supposed to protect them… This is the reason why women who have been raped never speak up… We would rather die with our secrets than go through the millions of irrelevant questions that do not seek to help but rather defame us and our persons.

Injustice to one is injustice to All….