When pain and suffering become unexplainable, when tears can no longer be found, when smiles become hard to find and feelings become unbearable. Memories seem to be just like yesterday. Bad vibes never seen or unheard of begin to set in. When you don’t know who to talk to and when you are not believed. These were my exacts feelings when I realized I didn’t know how long I have been here and how long I have left but all I knew was I had to keep pushing and striving because my story had to be heard. The push wasn’t close to easy.
My name is Toke and all I keep remembering was when the judge said “Miss Toke you are hereby sentenced to 10 years imprisonment with hard labor.” You would ask, what was my crime? I…I murdered, killed, executed, castrated and ended a man’s life. Shocking I know. You might even say 10 years is too small but why not life imprisonment or by hanging?
Rape as we see it is never as mere as people see it. When we hear, “she got raped, he got raped.” The next thing we tend to say is, “what a pity. I hope the rapist pays for the crime committed.“ But what happens to the person who got raped? We are all abnormal trying to be normal; we all have our minutes of craziness. So I would like to say, we are all disorders but with different grades and levels. In reality, mine could just be higher or lower than the next person beside me.
Going through all angles but ended with the last result of killing a man was because I was never going to be believed, that’s another thing that drove me to the wall. The fact that my pain wouldn’t be believed. I killed him because he raped me on several occasions and called me worthless. Each night I dreamt his death and finally I did it.
My mind took me to places I never knew I could go. I became a psychopath. The pain I felt became so enjoyable that if I wasn’t raped, I would cut and drug myself. Killing him was because hurting myself was no longer pleasurable, his cries for help became sonorous music to my ears. I found myself smiling at every part of his body I cut. That’s how I ended up here.
Rape isn’t minor. It brings about great disorders. Mine was being a psychopath, being a lover of depression. Don’t you ever see this rape as minor thing. I’m not proud of the choices I made but I hope my story would make each one of us to do something about it.
If you know someone who’s raped please take the person to a therapist. Watch each and every move. Try to make him or her smile. Don’t act like it’s all gone, because it never would be gone but don’t make the person feel stigmatized.
If you been raped, speak out, if you are not believed, keep speaking out, someone would definitely listen. Don’t let your story be like mine. You really might not have the privilege of seeing light again or knowing the calendar date or time like me. Don’t harbor resentment. Tell someone who can and prays to God to heal you and make you strong. He is always there to listen. He never forsakes his own.
If you haven’t been raped, please avoid being alone with people who look dangerous. Be sharp and always have a smart plan. Have little aids like pepper spray or mint spray. Although violence is never the answer but knowing some little moves won’t hurt. Endeavor to protect yourself, which should be your aim. While I am not saying you shouldn’t be friendly but still try to be selective of who you have as friends. Avoid going out to places you have never heard of alone. Meet up in open places. Don’t hate yourself for letting such happen to you and don’t hate people for trying to look after you. Life is too short to be miserable. Leave your mistakes behind and look forward to tomorrow when you get to smile, like I am doing. I don’t feel miserable anymore that’s why I can write my story in ease.
Stay blessed and be smart.
Writer’s Social Media
Instagram : Thebluepetal_
Twitter : Thebluepetal_
Get updates on our post by joining our BBM Channel via C00396EEB, if you are reading from mobile click: http://pin.bbm.com/C00396EEB