(Break The Curse)

The guy who went to save her from being raped got murdered.

He had heard of her screams behind the closed doors, so he called for back up to break open the door. When they did, the guys he came with, found out that it was their friend that was stuck inside the room with the girl. They couldn’t snitch on him. They decided to gang up on the guy who had called them; beat him, and silenced him. Amidst the girl’s cries which by now were growing incessant as she watched the young man took his last breath. They turned on her, and took turns. They were five guys. No! The first one went in as the other guys stood by, heckling and laughing, then he got out. The second guy did the same. The third….the fourth……the fifth guy did the same, and by the time he finished, when she couldn’t scream anymore, when she couldn’t fight anymore, they tied her hands and dragged her out, making her crawl on her knees on the coarse ground. Constantly poking her with their legs. And when she couldn’t have it anymore, she passed out. They kicked her womb, and left her to die. Breathing but barely moving.

Years later, justice was never served. Years later, the blood of the two victims of rape that had oozed into the ground that fateful night, kept humming with the wind like bees, carrying aloof their sad chants. Karma was held in contempt for always bitching about the bitch that she actually is but when needed the most never showed up. Years later, the five assailants sat in a bar, drinking whiskey and smoking cigar, moving about life like nothing ever happened. As though the two lives they helped end meant nothing more but a small price to pay for their sheer fun. Until one day, one of the guys went home back to his family, only for his 18 year old daughter barged in, Crying, sobbing, while saying.

“Daddy I want to kill him. Daddy it hurts damn much. Daddy how could he do this to me. I thought he loved me. Daddy I can’t live with myself, I feel dirty”

“Baby, heartbreaks are normal, you’ll toughen up.” Daddy said.

“No daddy, he raped me. He forced himself on me.”

Daddy sat on his couch, legs folded on the table reading a newspaper. Now, as she begun narrating to her father what happened, daddy stood back as she stared at her cry while her back broke. In her daughter he saw the girl they had molested few years back. He saw her daughter in her and her in her daughter.

“Daddy I want him to pay. Please daddy, make him pay.”

But daddy stood still, barely moving. Because now all he could see was his daughter struggling for help, while his friends stood by watching, laughing and applauding. He got angry, and thought about putting a bullet in each of his friends head.

“Daddy I want you to kill him.”

He wanted to go after him. But how Could daddy kill what he helped create?

(On the night of august 11th 2017, a woman on her way back home was attacked by two men who threatened her with knives and took her to an isolated area where they beat her badly and raped her vaginally and anally.

On the eve of the 2017 elections, a woman was raped by a man she said wore combat trousers, in the presence of her 12 year old son.)

There has been several unreported cases of rape. The survivors of rape are sometimes looked down upon, well, it’s not their fault.

So dear Mr. Rapist.
It’s your time to come clean.
It’s your turn to break the curse.
End sexual violence.

As written by Phill Ibsen
(Master of Descriptions)