Quick Thrusts

I have read countless stories
Swiped at tears
Reading more stories
I’m still swiping and cleaning my tears every minute

I have cried in silence
I have prayed to God for healing
I have shared my story with a few
But they all think it couldn’t have possibly happened.

Why?
I look happy
I seem happy
I am always vibrant and everywhere
I seem to have it all together
I am the life of the party…

What they fail to see
Is that I am sad
I am lonely
I cringe inside every time I see him.

I was just 7 years old
I just got back from school
He was jobless and at home
He called me to his room
I heeded his call and went to him
He grabbed me
He fondled my non-existent breast
I screamed
He asked me to stop screaming

As if it happened yesterday
I remember clearly and vividly how it happened
A pink substance in a small container
He rubbed some on his penis
He forcibly rubbed some on me private part

In a minute, he was in
Quick thrusts and he was out.

Off to the bathroom
He pushed me
Like a lamb to the slaughterhouse
He cleaned me off
Still trying to force his finger into me

I cried myself to sleep
Nights after nights
I had nightmares
I blamed myself
I couldn’t talk to anyone
I blamed my mum for allowing him stay with us

Years after that horrible day
He was set to get married
I could not bare it
I almost lost my mind all over again
I confronted him
He apologised non-chalantly
I hated him then
I hate him now

He was my uncle
And only a few know my story!

Sent in anonymously by a rape victim

As I read this story again this morning, I was reminded of a near-rape case I had in secondary school.

My near rape experience

There’s this uncle of mine, he looks so much like my father that people call him my father’s firstborn. He didn’t live with us but he visited quite often. On one of his visits, I think in December 2003, he told me more about Christ. For the first time, with a better understanding of what it meant, I asked Jesus into my heart. Not just a recitation as they made us do in Sunday school class, but really accepting Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour.

I loved him (my uncle) more for playing that important role in my life. He soon became my favorite uncle.

Less than two years after, he was visiting us again. Of course, I was excited to have him around. I would disturb him for gists (I’ve always loved gists), sit on his laps and hug the life out of him.

Unknown to me, he was on heat.

That afternoon, it was just the two of us left in the house. And whenever he visited, he stayed in the boys quarters. Every male visitors were made to stay in one of the rooms in our BQ, anyway. But, as per say he’s my favourite uncle now, he asked to take a nap in my room and I obliged.

Later on, he called me into the room for something. Then he asked me to sit on the bed. I don’t remember all we talked about but I recall vividly that he was asking me about my walk with God. He sounded like he was interested in my spiritual walk, if I had a boyfriend, why I should not have one then and all that.

Next thing, I was lying on the bed with my legs wide open. He was ‘inspecting’ my vagina. I didn’t know much then but I swear I could tell he was battling with his emotions. Now I understand that he was contemplating if he should satisfy his desire and damn the consequences or to let me be.

I’m not sure if it was his conscience that saved me that day or that he remembered who my father was -a policeman from Ekiti State, I sure don’t need to spell out what his temperament is😂

Whatever it was, it literally saved my ass that day.

My up-until-then favourite uncle who had pulled off my pant and stared at my vagina for a while, put it back on and told me to sit up. He looked like he was going to cry. He apologized and made me promise I won’t let what just happened affect my faith in God.

You see, the singular fact that he wasn’t begging me not to report the incident to my dad -who would have killed him- instead, he was worried about how what he almost did might affect my spirituality, made me forgive him. He cut his visit short after that and visited us less often.

Years later, he was getting married. Before and immediately after his wedding, he was still apologizing for that incident. He couldn’t even look me straight in the eye. And, he kept inquiring about my faith. “Do you still pray?” “Do you still belief in God?” “Are you keeping yourself?” etc.

What that showed me was that no matter how much rushes to your penis, no matter how high your libido is, no matter how horny you get, and how matter how tempted you are; YOU CAN CONTROL YOURSELF!

If these rapists and abusers have a higher authority, law or punishment they fear, they can put their hormones in check! You can’t tell me otherwise.

I’ve been feeling depressed by these stories. I cried myself to bed last night. I don’t want to have to do that anymore.

I don’t want these outcries to pass away like trends. I wish I had the power to make a change. I wish I could put new laws in place and reinforce the dormant ones.

#SayNoToRape

Oh, how I wish I could do more than just cry and rant. But for now, I will keep writing about it, I will keep giving my ears and shoulders to victims who are ready to talk about their experience and I will keep lending my voice to this fight.

#StopRapingWomen
#StopRapingMen
#StopRapingChildren
#StopRape

#SayNoToRape
#EnoughIsEnough
You may also like to read, My Father Just Raped Me.
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Bolaji Gelax

Hey, Star! Thanks for stopping by my world. I'm a gorgeous, sassy radio junkie who enjoys playing devil's advocate. I love everything that makes me happy, which includes the Stars in my #Galaxy. They call me MISS FLOWERY because I bring good vibes, love and light. Feel free to explore my world ❤✨

8 thoughts on “Quick Thrusts

  1. Hmmm! You see guys, this rape matter, they don’t write it in the forehead that this cool quiet man is a rapist. Almost every girl I know have a story of abuse growing up. Am scared for my unborn child (male inclusive) All these Uncles, Brothers, Step Dad, Sister’s Boyfriend, Neighbour, Boss etc and to the extreme Fathers…One need to stay vigilante. Real matter.

    Thank God you escaped that.

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    1. I agree with you, almost every girl has a story or another to tell, which is quite disheartening. 😥

      Hmm… Thank God.

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