Stories about rape abound. Man wants woman, he overpowers her and then forces the pleasure from her just because he feels [entitled] and powerful. This typically leaves one person hurt and miserable while the other…well he feels on top of the world! This vice [rape] has been part of human history across cultures. And as it is the case with such controversial issues, conflicting opinions/explanations exist as to why rapes occur. Why rape?! This question has bordered me for a while, prompting me to make a tale about it. And to do that, I went in search of real persons who have been victimized by rapists. Their stories are chilling, but most importantly they highlight the societal stigmatization against victims which invariably serves to empower the criminals instead of putting an end to their viciousness.
Folu was seventeen when she was raped by her employer. She worked as a salesgirl in a small Lagos store. And even though she initially suspected her boss’ long gazes at her breasts and the occasional grasp of her ass, she was too poor to quit the job. Moreover, she had a difficult mother at home who had “pulled strings to get her the position as a salesgirl”. So she had better work the job or face a backlash from the mother. So one night as she was preparing to close the store and head home, her boss came in and asked that they balance the books. This was his plan to further delay the hapless girl in order to have his way with her. Folu had no choice but to fetch the record book. And as she explained the figures, her boss’s eyes roamed her body, lustfully ravaging her with his gaze while waiting for just the right moment to pounce like the prey he was.
That moment did came when minutes later the rain began to fall. The man locked the store and turned off the “open” sign; after all it was too late for anybody in the neighbourhood to come needing supplies. As this was happening, Folu could read the signs. But then what could she do! Her body was frigid the moment the man’s hand touched her. He told her to relax; it’s just pleasure, he said. Folu began to protest, she was a virgin and she was not interested. He told her he was interested and as such she had to be as well. Folu cried. She wasn’t ready. And even if she was ready, she didn’t want the man she hated the most taking away the only thing she was so proud of about herself. She cried and pleaded, wondering why. But the more she begged him the hornier the beast became. There was something cataclysmic about the feeling of power and sex, and that night Folu understood it; unfortunately.
She knew there was no escaping what was bound to happen to her in that store that night. But then even though it would happen, she was determined to fight to the last. Consequently she ran from her, throwing down the goods they sold in a bid to momentarily keep him from her. If only she could reach that door and into the rainy night. But that was a wishful thinking because the man soon got hold of her, overpowering her as he pinned her against the wall and tore the clothes off of her. She screamed, overcame with the fear of what was about to happen to her. But the more she screamed the more the rapist proceeded to have his way. No one was coming to her rescue as the downpour outside had made the chances of that very slim. The man’s manhood then tore up Folu’s womanhood in the most violent manner thinkable causing her to faint. He went on thrusting in and out until he was done moments later, spewing his evil seed into her even as he pushed her away and went sprawling to the floor next to her while breathing hard and feeling good with himself.
Folu woke up later in the rain, her body weakened and naked. She had been tossed out there by the rapist, dumped beside the gutter as though she was garbage. She looked into the dark, starless sky, wondering why she had been created a woman even as the rain washed down her face, washing away her tears…
The rest of the story shall be completed soon. Names have been altered to protect individual identities.
Story written by Emmanuel Benson