Friday, 4 May 2018

"I was only 15 years old...he tied my hands...tore my pants and raped me violently"- Cameroonian woman shares her rape story! #MeToo

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As a teenager, I feel like I was well brought up. I was confident about everything surrounding me. I was proud of my God-given beauty. I was even more proud of my high academic performance. I earned the nick-name "iron lady" in Lobe estate, because I was the only girl, among two boys, who passed the common entrance in list "A" in 1990. I had a high self-esteem.

My family was proud of me. My community referenced me to their daughters. I had all of these priviledges, not until Mr. Rapist took away almost all of it. The Nakinti you see today, only started forcing herself to be who she was born to be, a few years ago. I am still trying to be me.

I was only 15 years old. [24 years ago]
Mum was in Nigeria. Dad was away in Bai Kuke to visit his cocoa farm. On that fateful day of the rape, 8:00am had caught me in the house because of multiple house chores. It was already too late for me to do the trek from Lobe Estate to Ekondo Titi (which is over 3km). Luckily, I had a 100frs to go take a taxi to school at the Lobe Estate car station.

[I am not sure I have the strength to tell this part of the story. Well, let me try...]

As I was rushingly passing through Staff quaters, to the car station, to grab a cab, I saw this demon standing by the ram-like veranda of the Staff quarters rest house. Yes, he was living there at the time. He was brushing his teeth, I am sure he just got up from bed. When I reached where he was, I greeted him "goodmorning brother." He responded and said:

"Aha, Besumbu, wait, I have your father's letter from headoffice. You should take it."

Like I wrote yesterday, my dad had been retired for over 3 years with no amount of his benefits paid. So, any letter from headoffice was anticipated as goodnews for us [like Lord, I pray it should be a letter calling dad to come for his entitlements].

I stood outside, looking at him as he walked through the straight corridor to his room. I knew he was going to come out and hand me the letter. But no, he put his head out of his door and said:

"Come, come in and take the letter quickly, my pot is burning, let me attend to it."

Oops! I innocently rushed to his room door to pick the letter and grrrrr, he pulled me in. Next thing, he shut the door. Next thing, he pulled me from one end of the room to the other, as I struggled to let him let go of me. In the course of the struggle, he hit me to room objects and I became powerless. I tried to shout, but I couldn't because I could not imagine people coming to see me, a little girl in torned uniforms in a man's house. I did not even have the strength to shout anymore. He tied my hands with a loin to the foot of his bed, tore my pants and he raped me, violently.

I remember crying without any sound. I remember the piercing pains. Yes, I was still an untouched girl -- In plain terms, I was a virgin. Lord, the pains, the violence in general, was too much for a 15 year old to bear. I felt dirty, stupid, inferior...

I remember looking at him as he untied me, but I couldn't even stand, let alone walk. After a few minutes, I managed to stand and guess what, my legs were covered in my own blood. I picked the pieces of my skirt, tied my pullover against the torn skirt, and I managed to walk back to our house. For one week, I couln't go to school, and my tender heart couldn't tell anyone.

Written by Nakinti Besumbu Nofuru, brave rape survivor!
Nakinti Besumbu 

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