The Room

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What’s the weight of shame and embarrassment? Does it, say, weigh more than joy and pride? Does it weigh more than a new-born baby’s head? Or sirloin? Would you use shame and embarrassment as an anchor to prevent a boat from drifting away to sea? Only she knew as she reluctantly walked into the therapist’s office in Doctor’s Plaza in Parklands, lugging all that shame and embarrassment with her, looking for someone, something to take the weight off of her so that all that would be left for her to carry would be the weight of her clothes and her bones. It was 6 am, mid this year, around June. Covid19 had finally gotten our attention by disrupting our rhythm of life and life out there was unraveling like a horror movie without an “End” button.

She took the space in: a coffee table, a sofa of sorts, another chair, drawn blind, and a very shaggy white rug in the middle of the room. It looked like the fur of an animal and she wondered if the therapist frequently combed it as she awaited the arrival of her next client. Small occasion cards were propped up, drawn by her children (she had three, she would learn later) and mementos that people keep on their desk for no reason at all. Her office looked playful, lively even, and minimalist, a far cry from the clutter in her own heart and body.

“Please,” the therapist gestured at one of the chairs as she stood there, not making a move. She was rocking a massive afro, shorts, a t-shirt and crocs, defying the morning chill. “You have a lovely body,” the therapist stood up, “you are pretty.” The therapist was a tall Muslim woman in full hijab. She was ready to be judged by this woman because in her words, ‘upright married Muslim women like this therapist tended to be the most judgmental, especially of women like her.” She should know; her mom and her aunts are pious Muslim women. Yet here she was, in shorts, and a t-shirt before this fully covered woman complimenting her beauty and her shape. “I was sure she was going to think I was a whore when I was done telling her the number of men I had slept with.”

This was the fifth therapist she was seeing. The first one was a man. He was judgemental. The second one, a woman, didn’t take her seriously. The third one, another woman, didn’t understand the ecosystem in which she came from and the nuances that came with that. She didn’t understand how she grew up living with an extended family that lived in one big house because she was born with a silver spoon in her kisser. She says, “And the last therapist was more fascinated with my job than she was with me as an individual.” She’s a senior government official. She has a bodyguard and a driver. She’s saluted at the entrances of buildings. Some rooms hush when she enters them. Her signature is enough to cause seismic shifts in certain quarters.

In the coming months of this year, she would come into this room and sit on the sofa and this lady would sit across from her, a huge notebook on her lap, occasionally scribbling with a glittery Swarovski pen, poking her gently with round-tipped questions. “I liked her because she came from my culture, she could relate to that family life, what a woman like me in that culture would experience. How religion plays a role in our socialisation and how sometimes it’s twisted and interpreted in ways that hurt us. She knows how important it is for people in my community to preserve the family name over the dignity of someone like me who was abused from when I was in class three, by an uncle, my mom’s brother who lived in the same house and nobody noticed and even when they did, they hushed it because, God forbid, the family be embarrassed.”

Over several months she told her the stories that resulted from her uncle’s abuse. She told her of her father leaving when she was very young, an abusive man to her mother.

On some days when she goes over and sits on that same chair, the chair of truth and vulnerability, she talks of those days. How her uncle whose room was one of the seven rooms in the big house that belonged to her grandmother started touching her and inserting his fingers in her when she was as young as eight years old. He would spend a lot of time with her because he – ten years her senior – an intelligent boy, would tutor her schoolwork. But “he would also beat me up when I didn’t perform well in class, whip me with a belt, slap me.” By the age of 10, he was making her watch pornography in order to learn how to perform cunnilingus. This went on for years. Nobody noticed because her mom was sickly and unwell and her grandma was always busy working. “I was under the supervision of this uncle who they thought was responsible but who was actually a monster.” She finished primary school and went into high school and it continued with him molesting her and then buying her expensive gifts, gold earrings, and giving her money. She would tell the therapist how normal it felt at some point, how natural it seemed because she didn’t know better. “He [uncle] told me that in some cultures it was natural for uncles to prepare their nieces for marriage by doing what he was doing. I didn’t know any better. I thought it was okay. I felt it was okay. I both hated and adored him.”

“There was a time I liked a boy in high school – in form three – and my uncle went to his family’s house and told the parents to keep away. This was also the same time I found out that my uncle, this same guy, was having an affair with my mom’s cousin, who was also married. It made sense because this woman really used to hate me when I was young, and I never understood why.”

People noticed how close they had become at some point and the rumours started. Her grandmother quickly picked up on it and “caused a massive fracas but nothing happened, there was no uproar. The general reaction was that I deserved it, I wasn’t covering up like a good Muslim girl, they said. I must have provoked this man, enticed him with my dressing. The matter was swept under the table lest it brought my family shame. Shame is a big thing in my community, it’s worse than rape.”

She grew to like the therapist. She was flexible and empathetic. The blinds of her office somehow always remained shut, creating an intimate space in the room where her demons swirled. On some days her boyfriend would be waiting in the car to pick her up from the therapist. There were days when she’d be feeling weary and deflated. On those days they’d drive back home in silence, her gazing out the window, head-bopping on the headrest like she’d just had a long night shift at work. Other times she’d be feeling lighter, floating on a cloud of confession and he’d pick up on her mood and ask, “What do you want to eat?” and they’d go to the market to squeeze tomatoes and smell dhanias and weigh pawpaws with their hands and they’d go back home and cook. This was the first normal relationship she’d had. The rest had been chaotic.

Her uncle eventually left; she tells the therapist. He left for Dubai, courtesy of a big engineering job. She was in university then. He stopped talking to her and she felt abandoned and alone. “I was missing this man who had abused me my whole life, wondering why he couldn’t call me. At the same time, my grandma wasn’t doing well so we ran into financial hardship. I recall writing to him begging for money. He ignored me.”

So, she started seeing men, married men with money, and sleeping around. “My therapist didn’t judge me, thankfully. I was surprised.” She says. “There is a whole section of my life where I was sleeping with men for money and feeling nothing about it. I would sleep around a lot. I would sleep with a man in the morning and a different one in the afternoon. I was numb.”

After nine years the uncle comes back home with the perfect Muslim woman and they have a wedding, a perfect wedding and she watches all this pretence and thinks, “You bastard, you ruined my life and now you are moving on with yours.” Then the uncle goes back to Dubai and she tells him that she needs help finding a job, so he organises for her to start a job in Dubai and in Dubai he starts pursuing her again but now she’s older and wiser and she can push back so she says no. Meanwhile, her life is spiraling out of control in Dubai; she’s drinking a hell lot and sleeping around a hell lot, and soon one of her kidneys caves in and she falls really sick, loses her job and she has to come back home after two years in Dubai.

There are days in the therapist’s room when she talks about all the wrong men she dated. She doesn’t mention them by name, just by their titles; engineers or a governor, or a businessman. She doesn’t honour them with names, she reduces them to pronouns, that way she stands apart from them even though they form a big part of her. “Every guy I dated then abused me, violent men who would beat me up and treat me like trash, this was because I was suffering from great abandonment trauma and I would overcompensate when I met a man, bending over backward to hold on to them, jumping from one abusive relationship to another because I was scared of people leaving.” She says it got so bad that, “this governor I was dating was so abusive that he would tell me that he was bored of our relationship and would ask me to bring my friend to come spice up the relationship. I was in this phase where I was trying to hold onto things.”

She wasn’t short on material things. The men were rich, they bought her things; cars, clothes, dinners, jewellery, but they also took a lot from her body, her mental health, her self-esteem, self-worth and dignity. She suffered two miscarriages by two different married men. In that room in Parklands she would speak of those miscarriages, those babies who didn’t make it, and her reproductive health problem, a hormone deficiency that stalled her pregnancies at eight months.

On some days she’d talk to the therapist easily, the memories coming out fast and thick with emotion, on other days she’d sit on the chair, feet beneath her, leaning back, shut down, and the therapist would ask her questions like; who do you want to forgive and this question would open a road that she hadn’t travelled for years. Or a question like, what childhood moments do you remember? Then she’d think of her dad and slamming doors, and the fear that lived within those walls. Or, do you want to get married? Do you sleep well? Can you forgive yourself? What colour do you relate to most today? What’s the most difficult thing to let go of? How are you feeling about the weather? What do you miss about travelling? Sometimes she’d be wearing revealing clothes that showed her body and other days clothes that concealed her, and she would ask her, why did you choose this dress today? What do you hate about your job? Then she’d have to tell her about her current boss, who promised her a job after she had worked on the 2017 campaign and she never got the job she was promised. How she thought she’d flirt with him, and play along with him in order to get that job, how she underestimated his cunning, his evil, how she enticed him to give her the job with a scandalous picture here, consent to a video there, just so that she would get that big job, and how even though she got the job the man eventually raped her in a hotel in Karen on 28th June 2019.

She talks about the rape while pacing about the therapist’s room, afraid that if she sat down for a second, the memories would bury her on the spot. And she’d be silently weeping, standing at the window describing the room she was raped in; grey white curtains, big wardrobes, a TV on the wall, a console, full-length mirror, a jacuzzi. She calls it a rich man’s bedroom in a quiet, discreet house/ guest house, in Karen. She crumbles on the floor and she cries, and the therapist joins her there and holds her as she lets it all out. She talks about the shame of it all. The shame of the act and the shame of the silence. “I never spoke about that rape. I’m angry at that. Only two people know of this, you are the third, and that made me angry. Angry that he could rape me, and I’d leave for official duty the next day, to Washington DC, as if it was normal. I lost respect for the office I work in, for the job, my self-confidence waned. He started harassing me soon after, being cruel at work. He told his peers that he had slept with me, not that he had raped me. I sought help, talked to the highest person you can imagine in the government apart from the president, but then nothing happens if you are a woman because it’s a men’s club in there, men believe only men. They say ‘but you used to date so and so, you are not a morally upright lady’ fine, I could be what you say I am but I don’t deserve to be harassed sexually or even raped for that matter. Let me choose my morality path but don’t use my choices to abuse me.”

There are days she talks about death robbing her of her grandmother this year, Covid19. She was the one person who never judged her, who stood by her, took her to school, a constant in her life. Death fills the room on those days, preceded by crazy anxiety and panic attacks. The meltdowns. She has been pouring herself into this room this year, the very dirty waters of her soul laid bare in order to purify it. She’s in a catch-22, where she can’t leave her job because she needs to earn an income. “I’m ashamed of the life I’ve led, the choices I’ve made. I feel great anger for not having said something when my uncle was harassing me, anger at nobody doing anything when it was raised, I feel shamed by what people thought of me, by what the people I work with think of me now, shame and embarrassment. I feel angry at my community for choosing to protect family reputation over the shame of confronting sexual abuse in families. I feel anger towards my uncle, who has moved on with his life, has a great career and a great family.”

Sometimes the sessions go on for hours. Sometimes the therapist stands up and holds her hand as she talks. At other times they sit there in long pockets of silence, letting thoughts take form. The therapist bought her a fluffy white bedside rug, ‘unfortunately that’s also turned a different colour now, because how do people keep white carpets white?”

Do you like yourself now? I asked her.

“I’m learning to be kinder to myself,” She said. “I’m learning to respect myself, to make better choices like not meeting people who abuse me. I’ve dated one man now, a great man, and I’ve not slept with anyone else for two years. I stopped drinking. I respect my body more now by dressing it better. My perception of beauty and elegance has changed. I’m learning to pray.”

Therapy is tough. There are days of demons and days of angels. There are days the room is chilled and it feels like you are bleeding on the carpet. There are days she feels defeated, days she is certain of her redemption. Then there are days she just cries and she’s angry and she leaves the room and she writes numerous long messages to him, telling him that she ruined her at least be a man and own that. He never replies. He’s with his family. Then there are days she feels angry at herself, for allowing these men to abuse her, to plunder her body and shred her dignity, for being weak.

It’s a complicated room, a complicated time of facing herself. “But one small step forward is a long important step.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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141 Comments
      1. wondered the same. Just read this chilling horrific true story of exploitation…and I am a mother of daughters; can’t imagine my brother doing this to one of them …and then the first commenter’s current take from it all is whether they’re the first to comment …mind boggling indeed!
        One thing I’ve realised with pedophiles though, it’s always people around us that abuse our children.

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  1. It is a difficult thing to look into the mirror and face your faults and issues, your baggage…. kudos to all who manage to do this.

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  2. It’s a shame just how easy it is for family members to get away with such shameful acts and the worst part is some parents will choose to sweep all that under the carpet.Pretend like shit didn’t happen.I personally feel as a parent you need to decide where your loyalty lies,is it with your kids or with some backstabbing relatives.

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  3. *sigh* This was heavy. My heart is heavy.
    So many feelings stirred. Anger(at that damned uncle), hurt, betrayal, sadness, frustration, more anger (still at the uncle, and the man who raped her).

    I pray that you get healing because you really do deserve it.

    Also, as much as you haven’t talked about him much, your boyfriend sounds like good person. A keeper too 😉

    I’m really rooting for you!! May the world fill your plate with happiness and peace and rainbows and candy and everything nice.

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  4. This is painful. There’s hope that she will get out of this dark room and be herself and forgive herself and her abusers. I wish her well in the coming days… Months… Years. It’ll take time. The journey has started.

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  5. “Let me choose my morality path but don’t use my choices to abuse me.” Being ‘immoral’ or whatever does not mean that you are to be used and misused just because someone wants to!

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  6. It takes courage to open up carcasses and open wounds from our past. I’m proud of the choices that you are currently taking. Kudos… Keep going. Can I get leads to her therapist? I know someone who could use a less judgemental one

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  7. My heart goes out to this lady but am glad she is getting better. I feel sad when I see what women have to go through when men can get away with it it’s so sad.

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  8. OMG!! This story is so soul-crushing especially because I know for sure that the complicit support of families in matters of abuse has a huge bearing on the development of women and girls.

    My heart goes out to this lady. I am also glad that she has access to a resource like therapy to help her through it.

    Monster behaviour!

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  9. Healing is a long journey. a lifetime journey. Courage and Love to you dear. It’s going to get better and better. you will learn to live with those demons, they will stop scaring, shaming, and embarrassing you. They will be part of a larger story. A story of ignorance, confusion, courage, wisdom, and Love.

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  10. Do you like yourself now? I asked her.

    “I’m learning to be kinder to myself,” She said. “I’m learning to respect myself, to make better choices like not meeting people who abuse me. I’ve dated one man now, a great man, and I’ve not slept with anyone else for two years. I stopped drinking. I respect my body more now by dressing it better. My perception of beauty and elegance has changed. I’m learning to pray.”…………………………………This really touched me , prayers change everything

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  11. All the best in stepping forward. I would really wish to know what goes on in the mind of an abuser because only victims eventually open up on how they have been abused. its inconceivable what they put their victims through.

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  12. Forgiveness is your portion girl, you didn’t deserve the abuse and humiliation from all those people and I am hoping you forgive yourself because it is the hardest thing to do since you can’t avoid yourself. Move on and heal slowly, it’s a process.

    Look for information on “The 5 Stages of Grief” as I feel from your story, you are mourning the loss of your childhood and naivety and you have experienced Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and now with therapy you are on Acceptance.

    It shall be well and wish you a great life with happiness, health and family.

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    1. People talk about the 5 stages of grief. unfortunately, there are no 5 stages…..its complicated. I lost my wife last year during child birth (our first child, no less) and I can confidently say that the 5 stages are overrated. The stages follow no logical order, there are no defined time frames for any stage, and all I can say is that it hurts. It really hurts. Every day extend a kind word to someone, you never know the demons they are fighting!

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  13. Biko, is there any chance you could interview a rapist? I want to get an insight into an abusers mind. How do you even begin to reach out to a rapist? I want to read about that man who abused a child (boy or girl) for years. What thoughts go through their minds? Do they regret what they did? Do they have children of their own? I want to get into the mind of a rapist/abuser.

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  14. Sexual assault of whatever form deforms a woman. It takes away your sunshine. It is pathetic. But then there is that, from a boss. Whether you succumb to the boss’s pressures or not, they always end up harassing you. I literally had to leave my job because my former boss made my life unbearable simply because i refused his advances. In hindsight, had i stayed one more day, i would have spat at his face. Then i realize that this nonsense happens even in very high places and I’m just like uhmm, we (women and maybe men?) are screwed.

    To the protagonist, I have nothing to say. I pray you get to that point you always dream of, because I will not pretend to say I understand.

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  15. Allah (God) is kinder to us than we can ever be to ourselves. Let go of the past which does not define you. No one has the right to judge you.

    Abu Huraira reported: Prophet Muhamamad peace and blessings be upon him, said, “If your sins were to reach to the heavens and then you repented, Allah would still accept your repentance.”
    Source: Sunan Ibn Mājah 4248

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  16. I’ve read this twice now and my thoughts after the second read are that I am glad that she is well educated to know there are therapists out there to help her through the healing process. The vulnerability to stripe yourself to the rawest of emotions/thoughts/feelings.
    As for the therapist who has to hear all this and walk this journey with her I hope she doesn’t skip any of her supervision sessions! I can only imagine the many other stories that she has to hear.
    This has been a tough read.

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  17. This is so tough but there is light, and it’s beautiful restoring light at the end of this tunnel. And I love this, “I respect my body more now by dressing it better”.

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  18. So many feels on this one. People have labelled her and called her names all her life purporting that she is not morally upright. Amazing how we twist things in religion and culture that were meant to be for our good, to cause untold damage on others. Those who had the power to stop a clearly vile and atrocious act did not do so because their selfish and self serving interests were the main concern and so they were too cowardly to rescue a child. By that, they are just as bad as the perpetrator himself.
    Racism, abuse of all kinds, rape and other evil vices continue to thrive because good men keep quiet, because those who can, do not do anything. Many of us are enablers of similar situations in other circumstances in life. What goes around comes around, you can count on that. The chickens will come home to roost for her uncle, her male abusers, her boss and all of us reading this doing similar things to others just because we have the power and we can. God is not mocked.
    Hugs and love to you Beautiful Lady. You have it wrong…YOU are the beautiful one and they are the ones with things to be ASHAMED of, the ugly ones. You were just a child and they hurt you in the worst possible way and failed to protect you. Others have been cowardly men because they clearly saw a weakness and decided to exploit you, instead of being real men and seeking to lift you up and help in your healing. They added salt to the injury. Shame, shame, shame what people do in the name of God and ‘morally upright”.

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  19. My heart bleeds for you baby girl. May you receive the healing you need, the strength and courage to be and remain whole and happy and in some way, move on from this. No matter your past, you are worthy, you are enough.

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  20. Indeed childhood experiences most often dictate the choices we make later on in life. Sending hugs your way. May you find total healing and grace sufficient enough to allow you to forgive.

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  21. I know of a girl who was molested by her father but everyone pretends like it did not happen. Whatpains me most is that the father just moves on with his life, while the girl is traumatised. I am trying to reach out to her slowly…but family! I do not respect anyone who molests a girl or boy and just behaves like it is a non- issue

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  22. This has been heavy. I am glad she found her voice and is facing her past. It takes a lot of courage. You’re brave and a voice for many. Baby steps, you’ll get there.

  23. If you (the lady whose story has been told) then I would tell you this: You will come out stronger. Shame is an ugly foe, and most of us sweep it under the rug as we struggle for acceptance. But this step you have made, of seeing a therapist, of telling your story, of embracing your life – the good, the bad and the ugly. It is not for nought. A strong resolve can achieve wondrous results and change the bleakest of futures. I don’t know you, but I find myself strongly believing in you and in your happiness.

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  24. What did I just read?
    This is so twisted. I hope she heals from all this madness she’s undergone in her life.
    I salute therapists.

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  25. The ugly face of sexual abuse and exploitation rears its head again. I feel like personally sorting that so called uncle with my bare hands. And society continues to defend and justifythe vice ‘you called it on yourself”, ‘you dressed inappropriately’, ‘you availed yourself’, ‘protect family name’ blah, blah. Nonesense! May you find healing and peace on the path you have embarked on my sister

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  26. One small step is all it takes. The power of religion in socialisation rings true here.

    May the small steps you are taking always move forward.

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  27. It is really a blessing in finding an angel in a thousand demons. Nice feed of stories Biko.

    If you care to read more stories then go ahead and click on the link below.

    #Newpost: Caged II: The nice air that left a stink

    If you are sad, look sad. If you are happy and thankful allow that face to stretch a smile, show your teeth and allow that voice to vibrate a giggle. If you want to administer physical punishment, fold your fists, avoid threatening people. If you want to be carried by wind look feeble. If you are sorry, look sorry. It is not a matter of ‘today I want to say sorry three times and see if I will die’. Death cannot to be tasted by dare or swear words, instead…

    Read more at:
    https://longinuswrites.wordpress.com/2020/11/10/caged-the-nice-air-that-left-a-stink/

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  28. This is truly heavy…

    It’s not easily to have the courage to open up about such things, but the beauty with finding the courage is that you soon realize that talking about it is the best way to heal!!

    Keep on keeping on! days will be different but your determination to appreciate yourself more with each passing day will get you to the silver lining at the end of the tunnel!

    Keep at it, One step at a time, there’s no need to fly!! You are on the right path, i wish you every success on your journey.
    I wish you love, life and peace!

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  29. Ouch!this has made me shed tears … I imagine the things people go through when they are young and naive and how this shapes their futures and who they are… I am thinking of how many times we point fingers at those considered “abnormal” because of how they pursue their rights and dreams and ignore the fact that maybe that’s how they were to taught to pursue what they want… #iquitjudging

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  30. Oh dear. Sorry about what you have gone through. I am glad you are choosing reset. Time to love yourself and heal. It’s not okay but you will win.

  31. Hugs mami, it takes a lot of courage to face your fears…sending her lots of love, may she find the peace and happiness she deserves.

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  32. My head is heavy. My heart is bleeding. I’m lost of words.
    This is difficult to take in, this is utmost cruelty.
    You are strong, the courage to share your story is itself strength.
    LOVE AND LIGHT.
    One step at a time sister.
    Praying for you.
    The future is bright.

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  33. This is really painful but the best thing is she is willing to heal,the process started when she met this therapist.She will be over it I pray!

  34. I don’t know if it’s just me or there are others who see the notification for a new Biko story, and postpone reading it till I get a nice quiet spot and immerse myself into the article! It can even be a day but I postpone it… it’s like a reward system. I just love it!

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  35. Heavy stuff right there.but I know for sure prayer will make it more bearable.you are strong this far you have come you will get through it.

  36. I have had the privilege of teaching about sexual gender based violence in different communities and you’d be surprised how much people are willing to do to conceal acts of sexual harassment. I feel strongly that there is a scandalous acceptance of sexual offences towards minors in our society as part of life. Be that as it may this is not a subject who’s discussion we’re will to have as a society. It goes without saying that no person should ever go through the terror and horror of sexual harassment. We can do better as a society.
    To the lady in the story, thank you so much for agreeing to share your story. It goes a long way in encouraging other victims of sexual harassment to keep going, and letting them know that it gets better eventually. I hope you find peace and restoration from your past.

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  37. I’m glad she found a good therapist. Mental health is not given enough attention anywhere in the world. I think most of us don’t realize how deeply things that happen(ed) in our lives affect(ed) us. Maybe we all need a good therapist.

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  38. There’s a small lesson here for those who have tried therapy and thought it didnt work. Try, try again until you find the person who you feel truly understands you. The person you can be safely vulnerable with.

  39. It’s a huge puzzle for me why lots families know these things are happening and they never address them. It truly beats my understanding. I thank God for you gal, your one of the few that can face these demons many others have chosen to not address them.

  40. I send you big hugs my dear girl.
    You have overcome more than you give yourself credit for. The hardest part has to be going out everyday wearing a firm face while your insides are crumbling…more hugs..keep learning to pray..may God make it easier for you.

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  41. And whe she has forgiven herself she will come out wearing nothing but a smile knowing damn well that she has brought her et demons to their knees.

  42. Well written. I’m a therapist, who sees a therapist. I’ve been both if these women and it’s complex and naked-making. Wanting to find help, understanding and clodure and also offering it.
    Thanks for not tying up the story. Its a continuing journey.

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  43. Gosh! It’s a painful experience she has lived through. Hugs to her. As she learns to be kinder to herself, may life be kinder to her too. Because it’s a cold world we live in.

    Sometimes life can be so mean. We don’t intend to take certain paths but boom! You find yourself in that particular direction.

    I am glad she found someone who could listen to her without judgement. Sit quietly with her when she lost the words, and held her hands as an assurance that she would not walk that journey alone.

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  44. You will never find true healing from human being you can take that to the bank.True , complete healing comes from God from having a relationship with Him.Take ua Bible and read ,pray and praise Him.

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  45. 90% of all the girls I have met from the north have been sexually abused. At 22, at 16, at 12, at 9, and for Chrisake at even 8. And somehow the abusers get away with it. At some point I was wondering if it’s a requirement in the Quran, and even if it was… Patriarchy is a lie and no amount of words can explain how angry I am about it all.

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    1. Wondering if it’s a requirement in the Qur’an! Hell no…it’s everything to do with cultures and bad behaviour.
      Take time to read the Qur’an and you will understand that the frustration that most of us have when other humans act like animals and try to hide behind religion

  46. What a fabric of society we have weaved. We do not protect the next generation but we expect to have peace! Try innerengineering.com Work on your body, mind, emotions and energy. All the best.

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  47. If I were a serial killer, I would kill all rapists especially baby rapists. I detest them with every fiber of my being. If my brother or any relative were to rape my daughter…I would kill them. Am so mad.

  48. Such experiences always break my heart. It is rather unfortunate that society has normalized rape and sexual abuse. Most people tend to believe that the woman had a role to play for her to be sexually assaulted. I understand how difficult it can be to open up about such matters especially when a family member is involved. May she find healing. Let her scars be a constant reminder of how strong of a woman she is. Love and light ❤

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  49. Wow..I can relate to the feelings of self loathing and being your own worst enemy..that part, “she feels angry at herself for allowing these men abuse , to plunder her body and shred her dignity, for being weak.”
    For as long as you still have breath, redemption is possible. Praying for your strength and healing..one step at a time..one breath at a time.. you’re on the right path. Thanks for sharing.

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  50. After nine years the uncle comes back home with the perfect Muslim woman and they have a wedding, a perfect wedding ……. Reminds me of Dolly Parton’s song “Just because I’m a woman”

    May she find full healing and joy of life.

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  51. How much better a world it would be, if we all faced our demons and asked them a few questions? As it were, we keep unleashing them on others in a consuming cycle.

  52. wow, hugs and love to the lady in this story. the courage you have shown so far needs to be praised. I wish you happiness and light in your future

    Biko, you have told this story with so much heart, thank you. I hope you are taking care of yourself too. It cannot be easy to listen and tell this story so perfectly and with so much compassion

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  53. I’m glad you are in the journey of getting better and seeing yourself a more better person than you have in the past years. And thanks to the new man you are seeing for walking with you this journey.
    I’d love to get the contacts for this Therapist.

  54. Let her heal, but my goodness, so many ladies out there dispossessed of their dignity, attached to multitudes of bodies, jah deliver us from them.

  55. She’s mad at herself coz she still adores her uncle. She’s mad at herself coz she knows she’ll forgive him no matter what. Having the source of your identity and affirmation be the source of abuse is an inextricable psycho-emotional clusterfuck. No dad around, yet the only male figure in her life uses sex(which is supposed to be a beautiful thing) to abuse her. The only person she needs to forgive is herself.

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  56. Historic child abuse cases run rampage in our communities. It’s time to heal, lift that lid right off!! As much as self-healing is important, it would be great to see the government doing something about perpetrators of these crimes. It’s not just the priests or abroad, it happened in many of our homes too!!!

    I wish this lady the very best in her journey of healing, self-love and forgiveness.

  57. “Therapy is tough. There are days of demons and days of angels. There are days the room is chilled and it feels like you are bleeding on the carpet. There are days she feels defeated, days she is certain of her redemption.”

    And this is how you know therapy is working.

    Such a heart breaking story, oh my heart. Hugs, hugs and lots of hugs dear.
    Healing is on the way. It’s a process but you’ll get there.

  58. I’m glad that there’s light at the end of the tunnel,that finally she’s gotten a therapist she’s working well with,one that isn’t judging her,one that understands her from her roots. I hope she gets restored,I hope she finds healing and forgiveness.
    Parents should listen to their children,parents should protect their children. Children don’t lie,when a child mentions something as crucial as sexual molestation, it should be looked into. Parents should choose where loyalty lies,in their children,
    I think that people who molest others deserve a greater form of punishment, one that would make them think twice about molesting anyone.
    You’d want to think that when you’re an adult you can escape sexual abuse,but then its everywhere, and the perpetrators are everywhere, walking free,moving on with their lives,doing well, and you’re here stuck in an abyss that you’re not even sure you’ll come out of,because most often than not,you’re going to be accused of seducing him or dressing inappropriately. I wish our society would understand how much damage rape does to a person,however young or old,whatever gender you are,it’s horrible, it destroys people,it tramples your self worth and self esteem and self-control,
    We need to protect each other from rape,we need to protect out young ones who can’t fight for themselves, and as a parent, be keen,very keen, if you know your child well,you can tell when something is not right,and act fast.

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  59. Ooh my God! She must learn to forgive herself and love what she is now. Scars only remind us that the past is real. They are not meant to cripple us. I wish her healing and may she find love and know trust.

  60. It’s good that she is speaking out. This is so deep and sad, I’ll need to shed a year or two to feel better. Healing is. Journey

  61. I am so glad you are in a much better place. And my prayer for you is that you may never stop being kind to yourself. I am sending you lots of hugs.

  62. Such a sad story, to think that one person has gone through so much. I hope she really does forgive herself and let’s go of her past as she sounds like such a pure soul.

  63. Man this stories Biko. They make me dread humanity sometimes. I still have a hard time thinking such misfortune could all be experienced by someone. Prayers and time….. Religion be damned though.

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