Gender based violence

How can it be normal to leave people broken?

Photo by Sneha Sivarajan on Unsplash

The first time it happened, I was three years old. Daddy was busy in the bank. He was an accountant and mommy was in the university of Bowen. She was a lecturer. I didn't tell anyone what uncle segun had done. I didn't even have the right word to describe what he had done. He just simply told me that it was another game. I thought it was an upgrade to our hide and seek game but when he touched my skirt, I knew it was not as I screamed.

Uncle segun did it again today and he will for the next five days until my mom notices the blood dripping down my legs. She would look at me with shock and tear clouded eyes. She would ask me "who did this?". I will tell her uncle segun and she would gasp in disbelief that the driver and gardener would do such a thing.

Uncle segun will be sacked and I will feel a little guilty because I believe I am the problem. I shouldn't have existed and so uncle segun would not have been sacked.

Five years later, I will learn that I was raped and that was the word I didn't have the first time it happened. "Rape",I would repeat it again almost in disbelief. I will be ashamed to tell anyone that I was raped so I will wrapped it up in a big box in my heart.

Twenty years later, I will see uncle segun's obituary poster in agbowo junction. A dusty lone small banner at the bottom of a big indomie advert signboard. I'll feel queasy as the past comes rushing in my mind and I will puke right in front of the banana and groundnut seller. Passers-by will look at me with pity in their eyes and others will mumble the words "sorry", eii madam, e pele o"

The banana seller will look at me in disgust and complain in Igbo. "You don spoil my market".

She will complain that I've disrupted sales. I'll say “sorry ma” while feeling another urge to rid myself of my biliousness and the next outpour of vomit will make me come fully undone.

The POS guy close to her will give me a sachet of packaged water and a newly bought handkerchief to clean myself up. He will tell me that it's okay and I'll be fine. He will wave down a keke napep to take me home and pay my fare. I will thank him profusely with tears on my face and my hardened heart will softened. My strong dislike for men will be cleared automatically.

When I get home , I will realize that I've not moved past that moment in the past.

So I will call Tony and tell him yes and I will allow him to create his own identity and not uncle segun's.

After a year, I will give birth to twins. Two beautiful girls. I will adore them and remind them that they're mommy's princesses. And so that affliction does not arise the second time, I will tell them non stop that their body is theirs and no one else to tamper with. I will educate them and let them know the meaning of rape. I will further tell them that it's grouped into the term "gender based violence".

I will tell them explicitly that “Gender based violence” according to The United Nations is violence against women as "any act of gender-based violence that results in, or is likely to result in, physical, sexual, or mental harm or suffering to women, including threats of such acts, coercion or arbitrary deprivation of liberty, whether occurring in public or in private life.”

I will tell them that women and girls are the main victims of GBV and that it causes severe harm to families and communities.

I will further tell them that violence against women is understood as a violation of human rights therefore, it is not acceptable.

But for now, I will endure the pain and continue to scream.