True Story – Rape Survivor

Vuyelwa Sithole, 35, shares how her childhood scars opened up again after 21 years of healing

Iwas two years old when I got badly burnt by hot water. Because I was a baby, this was terrible for both my parents. I didn’t realise the extent of my burns or damage until I was at least 10 years old. My schoolmates would tease and bully me because of my facial scars — something that was very painful for my young mind to fathom. They gave me labels, and tormented me. The children in my neighbourhood were also mean because I looked different; they made me feel like a curse. When I visited some of my friends, their parents would stare at me and make comments like: “hakere ngoana enoa o chele” (this child is burnt), and that made me feel very bad.

A year before he died, my father asked the doctors to remove some skin from his leg, and replace the burnt one on my face. I was 12 years old at the time, and I healed well. You can barely see the marks. I didn’t know that it would turn out to be his final gift to me.

When I was 14, I experienced another traumatic incident. While on my way home from my grandmother’s house at about 6pm, I walked past a group of three guys. The route had a small passage that I had to walk through, and it wasn’t dark yet. But, I didn’t realise that the boys were following me. This was until one of them grabbed my braids from the back, and started dragging me. I screamed for help, and no one answered. I noticed a group of churchgoers walking past, and tried to run towards them. They pushed me away, and said, “No! We don’t know you”. The boys dragged me to a nearby lake that was surrounded by a long bush. I heard one of them urging the other two to let me go. But, one said, “It’s fresh meat for me”. He proceeded to tell both of them to hold me down while he raped me. They then left me there for dead. Because I was too weak, I only managed to walk to the edge of the bush.

When I didn’t make it home, my family called the police to look for me. I collapsed when they found me. This was yet another scar adding on to the ones I was already bearing, both emotionally and physically. When I eventually regained consciousness at the hospital, I was surrounded by my family, doctors and the police. They asked me to describe the perpetrator. He was known for being a serial rapist in Kimberley, and was about three months fresh out of prison when he raped me. I told them everything that had happened, and they found him. He denied it, but DNA tests proved that he had indeed raped me. He was found guilty, and sentenced to 23 years in prison. At the time, I was in grade 10. I wasn’t well emotionally, and that, coupled with the court case, meant I couldn’t go back to school.

My mother had to become both a mother and a father to me, supporting me through a lot of things. Time passed, and I tried not to allow my pain to control me until I was in my late teens. I made friends, and we would talk about things that normal teenage girls discussed, including boys. I was taken aback when they spoke about how they lost their virginity, and couldn’t tell them that mine was taken from me by force. I resorted to alcohol because I thought it would take the pain away. By the age of 15, I was drinking heavily, and no one at home knew about it. I didn’t know that it would destroy me. I tried to take my own life when I was 20, but I survived. My family didn’t know that the pain was killing me slowly inside – they only realised when I tried to commit suicide.

I hated men with all my heart. I didn’t even think that I would have children, but I now have two beautiful boys. I met a friend who then introduced me to church, and my life changed for the better. I saw myself in a different light, and gained my strength from God. I decided not to dwell in the past because I knew the dangers of that path. I learnt to accept my reality; I removed myself from all the bad things that had happened in my life, and moved on. What I didn’t realise was that the year 2017 would take me back to that dark place all over again.

One day, while at the mall with my kids, I saw my perpetrator walking about freely with two women who appeared to be his colleagues. It had been 21 years since that terrible incident, and he was out on parole. This was a terrible shock for me because I had thought that he was still in jail. I confronted him, and he tried to act innocent and confused because he had lied to his colleagues about his true identity. I called him by his first name, and the confrontation got so heated that they had to call the police. Every bad experience that I had gone through came rushing back. I was angry and hurt, and even prepared to leave Kimberley and my children behind.

I found my strength in prayer, and decided to not allow him to destroy me again. I thought about my children and how much I loved them, and that alone encouraged me to remain strong for them. Because they were already old enough to understand the situation, it affected them very badly. My eldest son started struggling at school, and needed counselling. I decided to counsel him myself, and that made me realise that many other people were probably going through the same ordeal.

That prompted me to start a support group. I plan to find other people who are facing similar issues to help them. I managed to overcome my pain, but not everyone is able to do the same. Both men and women get raped and violated, and I want to help them heal. It is important for you to accept your reality so you can move on. I am a praying woman who believes that God can fight any battle for me. Even though a painful experience happened to me in this imperfect life, I still found the courage and strength to move on. I never allowed my physical and emotional scars to define me. Don’t give up.

I never allowed my emotional and physical scars to define me.