After sharing with you the shocking tale of how rape gangs are wrecking havoc among young girls in Dandora, a top journalist with the leading broadcaster has gained courage to share with the nation her shocking and very unfortunate story in the hands of rapists.
This is Winnie Kiziah’s story;
MY STORY…MY STRENGTH
I have decided to do this, and I will keep telling my story because everyday, a man, a woman, a child is going through the same thing; and they need to know its going to be ok, that they are not alone. Back then I wasn’t sure, I was scared, I had no one to assure me it will be ok, there wasno story for me to relate to, I lived my seventeen years feeling dirty, because of this…. I penned this poem a while back, in simple English for all to understand, and I wish to share this with you, my friends and family… because this, it the final stage of acceptance to me, this strong and outspoken girl you’ve always seen in me…this experience made me who I am today, and more….
MY STORY…MY STRENGTH
I was only three, they were teens
I don’t know how I remember it all, But I do
Innocence shove me to the empty house, their inhumanity pulled them closer
My brother accompanied me, they were brothers
I fetched the water, they sneaked inside
My feet trembled, they came closer
He grabbed me, the other ripped my clothes apart
I cried and writhed in resistance, they pinned me down
I remember feeling something tear me apart, deep into my soul it went
My brother showed up, they scared him off
He cried and called for help, I cried and struggled to let loose
They did the did, I felt lifeless
My feet froze, the second one came on
His monstrous face stared into my innocent eyes, the other asked him to hurry up
He came on me harder; those were the longest memorable minutes of my life
My brother wailed in shock, I lay down lifeless as he pushed his way through
At the end, I felt some warmth between my little legs, and mistook it for relief
It was oozing from beneath; I didn’t understand why it was wet and colored
I tried to rise up, but my numb limbs failed me
They stared in fear, undecided whether to take off or not
I cried, they laughed- and high-fived
As they buttoned and zipped up, I grabbed the pieces of my clothes on the ground
My brother held my hand, tears filled in his eyes,
He called out for help, I cried in pain and shame
We stayed for a while, and then the house help came
She looked at me, and I felt the stare sting my soul
I saw her face, and knew I wasn’t what I was anymore
Too young to understand, too hurt to question
She went after them, off they had taken
My dear brother, I wonder if he remembers this
But I memorize with every grain of my being, what they took from me
The neighbors came, the children wailed
I knew then, that I was never gonna be one of them again
I didn’t understand, I didn’t want to talk
I missed my mother, but I hated every male figure in sight
I went blank, tears crowding my vision
I was so little, what was their attraction to me?
A few strokes of cane, a lot of insults
The women hit them hard, the men called the police
In they were taken, but just for a few years
I walked around feeling stained; all my years were dotted with the memories
Of that Friday afternoon, because that day chapati was on the menu
I never ate, I don’t remember, I shouldn’t remember
Maybe I don’t wanna remember again… they took the most valuable thing a girl ever has
I grew up hating the male species, my dad wasn’t an exception
I knew someday, I would grow to revenge
But my confidence was shut down, the day I walked straight into one of them
Walking freely around the corner, my feet froze
The sharp pain struck through my chest
I thought he’d do it again, this time alone
But he never did… he was too ill to try
I thank God, he died….and his brother?
The last I saw of him, he walked around town naked…. They had paid the prize.
But what about me?
Doesn’t seem like Nick will catch a break anytime soon! Grab yourself a copy opf Pulse and read more.
zawadi momo RT
Kohadha Roy Ogolla
