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From the moment I landed at Jomo Kenyatta International airport (JKIA), I knew I was in my rapist’s home turf. Although Kenya was also my home turf, it did not hold the same level of protection for me as it did for my rapist. My rapist was safe here. He couldn’t be tried here; he had family and associates here, who probably knew about this. I am certain that the little prick, bragged about deflowering me. I’m sure in his sick, twisted head he values that act like he would an international award. I know what you’re thinking; you’re thinking I also had the above support system. Some of my family and friends also lived here, but they only served as a metaphoric support system. In order for them to offer their support, they would need to know what happened to me, which they didn’t. So like Edmund Burke said: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men should do nothing.” In this case, the only thing necessary for him to triumph was for me to say nothing!
That said, six years down the line the irony present itself. Now when I land at JKIA and walk around my country, I strut around with the pride of a mother. I gave birth to my renaissance and expelled my pain. Now with every step I take and every move I make, I exude greatness and embrace the endless possibilities ahead of me. The irony is, the louder I roar, the smaller your influence becomes!
I’m no longer afraid of being the wretch of the earth; rather I choose to be the flame that enlightens the masses!
There’s a powerful serenity that is engraved in most people’s familial home; the serenity is not intertwined in the structure of the house but in the enchantment of familial warmth, protection and support. A home is a home because of the memories made in it, and my familial home was founded in all the above; and above all this house was structurally sound to withhold any attack from my rapist and his supporters. Herein lies my safe place, my true safe haven.
As I walked around the day after my arrival, 10th June 2009, I felt debilitating grieve. It was the first time I really felt the loss of my father. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve felt that the loss from the moment he took his last breath on this earth, but I never, ever, let myself really grieve. I mean really grieve! But that moment as I stared at our old family portrait in the living room, I couldn’t help but wonder if my life would have been different if he was still alive. I couldn’t help but wonder if his presence would have prevented my rape. I mean maybe I’d have chosen a different path, a different and safer country to study in, or better yet, I’d have known better and therefore never trusted my rapist or let him into my dome room. For the very first time in my life, I really resented my father for leaving me and I really hated my Lord from taking him away from me. At that very moment I missed the warmth and protection of my father more than ever; that was the very moment that I understood what it meant to be surrounded by people and feel very alone. I cannot emphasize this enough, any traumatic event that is not dealt with gives the victim an unexplainable amount of pain that leads to irrational fears and isolation. The more you isolate yourself the further away you get from reality.
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My reality had become one of irrational phobias, hyper tension and hibernation. My room and familial home was the only place where I sort of felt safe. Unfortunately, I’m using the word safe very loosely. The first night I spent in my own bed, right opposite my mum’s room and right next to my sister’s room, was the best night of my life. I may not have slept for eight hours or even six hours straight, but for the first time in months, I had, had real deep sleep. No nightmare, well one, but it wasn’t that scary; very mildly horrific. According to sleep specialist, deep sleep stage is the stage where the body repairs and regrows tissues, builds bone and muscle, and strengthens the immune system. So clearly, deep sleep is a very important part of sleep. The next few mornings I felt so fresh and energetic. Unfortunately, this was very short lived, as the next week; I started having night visit from tokoloshe, at least I thought it was tokoloshe[2].
Every night I went to my room, I watched any and all series that could cuddle me to sleep, but this time instead of being able to clear my head from everything and forget about my issues, all I could see were these dark, evil beings in my presence and I could feel them as they attempted to come closer towards me. It’s like being encircled by iniquity. A malevolent energy that surrounds you during your darkest time and ignites all your senses on fire.
My Tokoloshe resembled my rapist to a tee. He had his dark chocolate complexion, with dark black spots and pimples all over his forehead, and this perverted smug look in his eyes. People say that eyes are the window of the soul. Well this soul, was pure evil. Peeking into his eyes was like looking into the soul of the devil itself. In addition, every time tokoloshe was around my sense of smell was heighten. The whole room was reeking of expensive cologne that was meant to epitomize wealth and intense masculinity, but instead it felt like tokoloshe was overcompensating for something. I no longer laid in the comfort of my laptop, I now cuddled with my own version of Tokoloshe.
I want you to close your eyes, and for a few seconds recollect the fear you used to feel when you were a child and you believed there monsters in your room. I want you to focus intently on the fear, don’t rationalize it, just let it engulf you completely. Now imagine your lying in bed, surrounded by all your favourite toys, your blankie and night light. Your bed is surrounded by these figures that only have an upper body and float around the room, like a white feather would float towards the sun. All these figures look like the person you fear most, and everywhere you turn you see them. The light night light that was left on for you to keep away evil becomes your worst enemy; because instead of scaring those evil figures away it illuminates their vice a million times over. It’s an evil that cannot be described accurately but you can definitely feel it, in core part of your being. Now, imagine feeling that way every day of your life. That’s how a rape victim feels. A rape victim has an innate fear that convinces them that they will never escape their rapist, or the shame they feel, or ever overcome their pain. A rape sees their rapists everywhere they go. He’s in their home, car, office, supermarket, and church; all because his image is tattooed into their mind’s eye. A place where you can neither physically get to, nor erase. It’s like your stalker is using your own body against you.
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Looking back now and looking how far I have come. I can only cite my recovery to my God, family, friends and an awesome medical team.
I will keep saying this to yah. If you know anyone that has been raped or if you yourself have been raped, please seek help and find the courage to speak out. Silence only protects him and creates a ridiculous amount of fear and shame in your soul; and you are not the one who should be ashamed it your rapist. THEY ARE THE ONES IN THE WRONG NOT YOU!!
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[1] https://giordanopoloni.wordpress.com/- image of tokoloshe
[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tikoloshe
©misbeloved/mwk
[Maryanne Kamunya] and [misbeloved], [2014]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Maryanne Kamunya] and [misbeloved] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
