After dropping off my pen and painstakingly going through what I just wrote, I never thought I could ever open up on one of the most harrowing experiences I had suffered in the hands of a man. Could this have been written by me? Did I just go through some of these? I mean it never really dawned on me that I have been to hell and back; with the memories of my recent torture still very fresh in my heart.
This is one secret I had kept from my mum, sisters, brothers, friends, and cousins. What if he found it, he would know I just opened up on his dirty secret, the scary secret he had forced to me to keep away from my loved ones.
As I read through what I just wrote down, I discovered that no matter how hard I tried scrubbing away the dirt, the truth about how much pain I went through in his hands came out? My dad is a very smart man, he would still know I was referring to him, and would come after me. In the end I made that decision to open up so the world could see how I lost my pride and sense of dignity to my own flesh and blood.
As I lay in bed, pretending to be asleep, then I was just 11, I felt his hand run through my hair, but then he starts touching me and I try not to breathe. I could also feel him breathing all over me as I start screaming in my head, a usual terrible scream. It feels like I am using every bit of energy I have in my body, every single muscle, to scream. I want it to stop, I promised myself that next time I’d scream out loud but no sound is coming out.
Every night, my dad would come into my room and rape me, while I cry deeply in pain, with no one to help or talk to. Who would believe that my dad, a respected member of the society, a high ranking public officer could be ravaging his 11 year-old daughter?
My parents had both taken a decision to go their separate ways a few years back, leaving me with my father. For many nights, and sometimes in the afternoon after school hours, at our lonely home in a private estate, my dad would undress me and rape me while I writhe in pains.
For nine years or even more, my dad left me with nothing but bruises on my body. Bruises were the only physical proofs I had to show the entire world, but who would even believe that they were inflicted on me by my dad? The other signs are emotional, and even if no one could see those ones, I wished they could just fade away.
I still have many issues that make it difficult for me to be the person I want to be. Long after going through some counselling classes, I still go through patches of dissociating and having flashbacks, I have ongoing sleep difficulties that only respond to medication and also experience suicidal periods. I’m scared of not having the future I dreamt of.
It felt so wrong, and every muscle in my body would go tense as I watch my dad undress me, and gently run his hands through my body. I think it was crazy of him, but he would persuade me each time I tried to resist. Oftentimes my dad would resort to threat and torture if I strongly resist his urge. He would starve me for days and even lock me up; denying me the opportunities to go to school until some of the glaring scars on my face fade away.
I was too ashamed to ask directly for help, but desperately and deep within me, I wanted someone to rescue me. At school, I was always withdrawn to myself, with the threat of my father the stumbling block to my desire to spill the beans.
My mum too never helped my case as she never visited me either at home or at school. Obviously she is angry with me because I decided to go with my dad while the rest of the children decided to move in with her after the divorce proceedings were concluded. She is the first person I have really tried reaching out to, but she is not at all interested in helping me. If only I could get her to hug me and tell me “all will be fine.”
Despite the fact that trust was a major issue for me, I was able to come across a sister in church. Auntie Debby heads the teenage department in my church and as an experienced person when it comes to handling issues that affect teenagers, she couldn’t help but call me into one of the few offices in the church one afternoon after Sunday service.
Having finally found Auntie Debby who is a sympathetic listener, I could not stop talking. Eventually I opened up to her, telling her everything. Despite feeling pain and torture within me, it still felt like I was betraying him, my own Dad, the guy who taught me how to ride my bike without training wheels, who used to sing me quiet lullaby most nights. Who has molested and raped me my entire life. I really don’t know how to feel right now. A bit sick because of the guilty feeling, a bit relieved to have someone finally know it was my father who has inflicted the greatest harm on me, and extremely exhausted, from being so confused. I resent my mum for not sensing that things were happening, though she lived far off.
Auntie Debby encouraged me to open up to my mum despite how much I resented her. When I finally did, she immediately confronted my dad, who promptly denied it and threatened to deal with my mum for trying to ruin his reputation. It was almost like hell as my dad threatened to destroy me if I keep exposing what had happened between the two of us.
I am now 20, with no real plan of when I am going to start a relationship of my own. I feel like a rejected person, knowing how our society treats people like me. I can’t stand to bear the thought of being addressed as a girl whose father had ravaged. How do I narrate such a tale to my children? Would I be able to wipe off these thoughts and feelings off my heart?
Another issue I am badly battling with is how to make peace with my mum, who seems to think that it was my entire fault. She has not stopped blaming me for choosing to remain with my dad despite several appeals from her to take me along with her. How could I have known that a man who is my blood and flesh could betray my trust?
The truth is that my siblings who moved in with my mum also have their own fair share of emotional pains. The children are always the victims of any divorce between couples. The truth is, the more I tried overcoming my emotional pains, the more difficult it is.
What is the way forward for me now in life? How do I overcome these emotional pains and carry on with the rest of my life?