I Was Attacked…and This Time I Was Broken.
Me.Image: Tunde Raphael. It has been more than a month since I got attacked; precisely 42 days (at time of writing) since the attack. In this time frame, my life has changed. I used to live with this false sense of security. My carefree attitude was what got me by. My only worries were about family and career and almost nothing else. Quite frankly, I was almost never worried about my personal safety. After the attack though, things changed; drastically. Reading through my story, you would think I am strong. In fact, most people think I am a strong woman. I had friends who wrote to me extolling ‘my strength’. I also had friends who had faced worse situation telling me that they had drawn strength from my story. Many ladies who had been raped sent me private mails letting me know that they felt they were speaking out through my story. Overall, most people praised me for being strong. But am I, really? As the adrenaline ebbed away and the anger died down, I have had to deal with a host of other emotions. The first and most crippling is the fear that has been hounding me. Immediately after the attack, I could not walk out of my house without a knife. I kept looking behind me to ensure I wasn’t followed. One night, I came home from the office in a tricycle. It was really dark out; the only light coming from the tricycle. I gave the driver a N200 note, so he could give me N150. The driver gave me N100 instead. I asked him why he gave me that. He started shouting about how far my house was. As I was trying to explain what I usually pay, he switched off the tricycle and plunged us into deep darkness. My heart literally stopped. I could feel fear squeezing my heart and the pain was immense. I looked around and noticed a shape in the shadow and all I could think of was the moment I was attacked. I turned and walked away; the only reason I didn’t run was because my feet were leaden with fear. The shadow was walking fast and each footfall I heard felt like ten to me. I imagined he was coming after me to attack me, to finish what they had started. I could feel the blood rushing in my ears and goose pimples breaking all over my body. I finally broke into a run and didn’t pause till I was firmly locked in my room. The shadow was just a passerby but my mind had not recovered from the sheer terror I had been subjected to. And yes, I left the entire money with the driver. He must have wondered if I was some crazy person whom he had been lucky to escape. Another incident happened one night a few days ago. We closed from the office just as it began to rain. The driver got to my street but couldn’t enter because it was flooded. I had to come down and continue the rest of the way on foot. My voice sounded strangulated as I begged the driver to wait until I got into my compound. He had to put on the headlights on full glare. I kept walking and looking back even though the full lights told me he was still there. As I moved farther from the bus, I kept shouting ‘Please don’t go. Please wait till I get home’. Thankfully, the driver was a sensible one and he waited until I waved from my gate before turning away. It was a short distance from where he stopped but it felt like I was walking a distance a mile away. Up until last week, I never returned home unaccompanied. My closest friends must really be feeling the pressure! Another emotion I have had to deal with is guilt. I kept blaming myself; I should have left the office earlier, I should have followed the instinct that cried out to me that night, I should not have won the dress, I should not have worn high heels, I should never have moved into the neighborhood. I kept going over and over the incident and wishing I could change just one card that led to this domino effect. I am a perfectionist and beat up myself when I don’t do well. Over and over again, I look at the scenario and somehow think ‘It was my fault. I brought this upon myself’. I haven’t been sleeping well either. There are nights when the slightest sound will get me bolting out of sleep. Nights after that incident, I would lay awake, hurdled in a corner in my room as I imagine if the attackers would turn up. I also imagined how many would come for me. I used to sleep with my knife close to me and my stove at the ready. I conjured this thought that if I was going to be attacked, I would bathe whoever came against me with boiling water and finish them off with my knife. No, this ploy didn’t give me any confidence. Rather, it reminded me how inadequate I felt and would feel in the eyes of any attacker. I was playing with a friend and colleague at the office when he boxed me into a corner. While I laughed, it dawned on me that if I was really attacked, there was almost nothing that I could do with a very determined attacker. All my statements about cutting his penis were almost impossible. The more inadequate I felt, the more fearful I became and furthermore, the more troubled and restless I became. To the question ‘Am I strong?’, the answer is no. I am not. I am afraid. I am weak. I was broken. But will I get better? Yes! I will. I will be strong. I will get past this flurry of negative emotions. With every breath I take, I will work hard to
I Was Attacked…and I Refused to Be Broken!
I got attacked! This is a true story…and it happened to me. I live in a ghetto; a smelly, overpopulated area with mostly uneducated and unemployed young people. If you are wondering why I stay there, all I can say, it is not a matter of principle. On August 23, 2015, I went to church in the morning, hung out with some members of my department and our Head of Department’s family, went out to eat, went to the office, did my show, waited for the bus and then headed home. As I headed home, I reflected on what a wonderful day it had been. I noticed that the clouds were cooking up a storm. As my friend would say, ‘It was about to rain domestic pets’. When we got close to my junction, the driver asked me if I wanted to drop at the first one or the second one. I felt the first one would be better since the rain was about to pour. My friend asked if I was going to be okay. I said yes and alighted. The winds flirted with my dress and I bent down to pull it lower. I started walking home. Most people were running. I was in heels so I wasn’t going to run anywhere. It was dark and windy and I really didn’t want to fall flat on my face. So even though it had started drizzling, I kept walking. Soon, I was the only one on my street…or so I thought. I am very perceptive. I was three houses from my house when I felt a sense of impending danger. Even though I could not hear foot falls, I knew there was someone behind me. When I feel something like that, I usually slow down because I read that speeding up in such scenario is a demonstration of fear…and like animals, humans can smell fear. I looked back just in time to see my attacker bring his hand around my face. I moved away just as he caught my breast. Somehow, I did not feel any fear. Instead, I was consumed with anger. In fact, anger doesn’t describe what I was feeling. It was more like burning rage! It clouded every other reasonable emotion and I used my bag to hit the guy while still managing to swing a blow. He was caught off guard and he took a couple of steps back. Seeming to have been renewed, he came forward again and this time, I threw my bag, one of my phones, shoes and other things I was carrying to the ground. I pulled my dress up and spread my legs. I became a totally different person. I asked him to come and fight. He seemed afraid. I kept shouting that he should come. He kept going back and forth but not daring to come any closer. I had become a banshee and in retrospect, I wouldn’t have recognized me. I started calling my friends and he asked if I was calling anybody. I kept saying he should come in the crazy manner with which I started. The calls weren’t connecting so I knew I was on my own. I prepared to defend myself. Seeing that he wasn’t approaching, I hissed and started packing my things. That was when I saw the second attacker. This time, I knew I had to run! I could not possibly fight two people! I turned and started running but my turn was a bad one so I slipped and fell. Then, for the first time that night, I felt fear; real fear! I imagined what would happen if I remained there and with the active imagination I have, it was enough to spur me up. Strength that could only have come from GOD came upon me and I got up and ran! I left all my things there; my safety my first point of concern. As I ran, I kept shouting at the top of my lungs ‘Neighbors! Neighbors!’. It wasn’t until I got to my house that I realized no one came out. As soon as I got to my compound, I started banging doors, telling them to come out. Only one man did as I ran back to the streets. He didn’t even bother to follow me. I went back to the spot where I fell and started gathering my stuff. I was pumped on adrenaline and I really just kept going. That was when the third attacker – who was much bigger than the first two – came out. I waited until I was done then started running again. The attacker followed me all the way to the front of the house and turned back when he saw people at the gate. I bust past my neighbors and ran into my house. I went straight to the kitchen and took my knife. The rage had returned and all I could see was red. When I charged out again, the first neighbor to respond had locked the gate. I was livid! I went into a rant, wanting to get out there, the rage fueling my movement. I had such murderous rage! I wanted to face my attackers and just bury the knife in them! My female neighbors came out and asked me to stay inside. After a few seconds, I went back into my house. That was when I started really thinking. The attack started at about 9:05pm and by the time I got back to my phone, it was about 9:15pm. In less than 10 minutes, I had been attacked by three men; an attack which could have been much worse if GOD had not given me strength to fight back and run. I learned some things from the attack. A) In the face of trouble, GOD gave me bravery I would never have had on my own.B) Your life can change in the shortest possible time, shattering your cocoon of safety and grand delusions of protection.C) I was three houses away from
