All the speeches about rape have done little to stop the brutality
It is absurd to task women with the burden of doing something to prevent a man from violating them
There is a woman who sleeps curled up, drenched in a pool of tears. She rests her head on her fist, ready to strike yet another imposing manly figure who dares unlock her legs.
Her knees are tightly knitted in a hug and she sleeps in her pants, just in case. Restless. Perhaps the best defence she has against another attack – she is alert.
Only when the sun rises and all her senses awaken from the numbness of the night will she be back, living among her abusers.
She will move among strong, tall men, gazing at her longingly, her curves rubbing against their trousers as they “accidentally” shuffle against her to feel some of that comfort.
One will forcefully grab her hand and ask her politely to give him her name. Another will call her a b **** just to remind her of her subhuman status in society. She might even freeze at the stop street, fearing she had just seen him drive by in that red car. Then, when her shoulders are about to crumble from all the baggage of her feminine existence, a friendly man will hug her and exalt her beauty, leaving the stench of his cologne on her bosom, a constant reminder that a man was all over her.
A trigger. Another damn trigger! Another trigger of the memory of rape.
Unlike lightning, nobody ever said rape will not strike the same girl twice. So, we live in constant fear of yet another man unleashing his rage in between our thighs. We fear for our daughters and fear their fathers. We fear for our sons and wonder about our brothers.
I have ceased to be infuriated at the question: “What can women do to help stop rapes and violence against them?” It used to mince my areola. The guts to task women with the burden of doing something to prevent a man from violating them! The suggestions that wearing “clothes that do not expose too much” and walking in mini clans will somewhat stop rapes is insanity at best. It is the men that should be called to action. It is the perpetrators who should stop raping us.
Women should be able to trust that even if a man found her passed out, drunk and naked, he would help cover her up and keep her safe until she is back to her senses.
The tragedy about most rapes is that they do not kill you. You live and relive it.
Sometimes you speak about it. Some may not believe it. Sometimes it rears its ugly head right in the middle of a passionate encounter with a lover, and draws you into a darkness even romance cannot illuminate.
We have at least moved from hushing victims of rape and telling them it is a shame for them to speak of their ordeals. We lend them an ear, then ascend to podiums to speak of them eloquently, to the cheers and applause of the masses we touch.
It is all good and well that we have spoken about rape but great speeches do not erase the pain. Maybe they will ring in the background the next time another woman is raped – a soundtrack to endurance. A little reminder that someone once spoke about that very moment of torture, dulling every thrust into a symphony of words.
“Not In My Name.”
“Me Too.”
“I believe Her.” “Time’s Up.”
“Men Are Trash.”
But nothing ever spoken has yet to effect any change without any action taken.
So yes, we have heard you. But what are you doing about all this rape?
‘‘ Unlike lightning, nobody ever said rape will not strike the same girl twice