My Healing

My healing is a short story of a woman who was sexually assaulted.

God! I love my life so much. Daily, I express appreciation to the sweet Lord for my perfect life. I’ve been blessed since childhood. I had the best parents; My extra, loud but hilarious father, Olusegun, and my calm, sweet and rational mother, Adelaide, provided me with everything I needed to grow into the superb woman I am now.

The crazy lovebirds met during a boat cruise in Hawaii. After two years of courtship, they wedded at a private ceremony in Benin state. I was an only child. Although I was in desperate need of a sibling, I loved being the center of attention in the family. My parents treated me so special. They were so perfect. As a child, I earnestly wished I would have a marriage like theirs. So sweet, comforting, supportive… So perfect.

And fortunately, I did. Previously, I didn’t have much luck in love, always gave my heart to idiots who treated me badly. Eventually, I gave up on finding true love, and then I met my sexy Yoruba prince, Jamal Adeolu. I knew it was meant to be from the onset. He was so alluring. Everything about him was intriguing. I would have been labeled a fool if I let him go. Everyone was taken by surprise by his quick discussion to propose after three months of courtship. I was glad he popped the question quickly. Despite his banshee of a mother trying to ruin everything with her harsh remarks and hard criticisms, we had a perfect wedding. A year into the marriage, I gave birth to a beautiful boy, Depo, whom I hoped would turn out like his wonderful father. I had a perfect life_ The perfect husband and child, perfect home, perfect job.

Everything was bliss. That was until May 3rd, 2014, 9:23 pm, to be precise. The day that made me question my existence on earth. That fateful night, I was working on a client’s manuscript at the office. I work in a publishing house as an editor. Steinfield publishing house has been my other home for over five years.

After long hours on the client’s historical romance novel, I was done and was thrilled to return home to my loving husband, who might hopefully give me one of his wonderful back massages right after we make passionate love. Suppose his crazy conventional mother isn’t around. I stepped out to the company’s parking lot and noticed the environment was unusually quiet. It had a strange aura that radiated around the area. I couldn’t place the reason why, but I had never felt so scared before in my five years of working in the company. Goosebumps erupted on my skin as I moved further into the area. I had to locate my car and drive off. I halted to get up my ringing phone from my bag. It was Jamal. After I picked, he asked,’’. Adeola, where are you? It’s past 9’’.

I sighed and explained,’’. I just had to do something quickly, but I’m almost home’’.

He contradicted’’. You’re still at the office. Don’t lie to me’’. He could see right through me. God, I love this man! I gave up and sighed’’. Yes, but I’ll be home in twenty minutes or less than that if I drive really fast, and you hate it when I speed’’. I said with a coy smile. He exhaled’’. Fine. Hurry. Debo is waiting for you’’.I chuckled’’. You’re his father; spend time with him. I’ll see you soon, babe’’. I said and added kissy sounds before cutting the line. I heard footsteps behind me. Immediately I spun around; a fist collided with my face. After receiving the hard blow, I staggered backward, and my phone fell to the floor, along with my bag.

I was further pushed to the ground by the attacker. By the deep grunt released, I guessed it was a man. He grabbed my petite legs and roughly hurled me in between two cars. I screamed at the top of my voice and fought hard. He was awfully strong. I marveled at how quickly he was able to get on top of me. I finally locked eyes with him. He possessed dark skin and strong muscular arms that showed through his ratty dark tank top. He had a weed stench surrounding him. Shabby brown-colored dreads were on his head. I was particular about his wide-bloodshot eyes. I was so keen on his appearance. I didn’t realize his motive yet until his hands squeezed my thighs. I opened my mouth to scream before he clasped his coarse hand over my mouth. With his other hand, he pulled out a switch knife from his pocket. My eyes widened at the weapon.

I released muffled screams, staring at him with wide eyes. ‘’Shhh’’. His raspy voice was heard’’. Be quiet’’. He made it clear. Shut up or be killed. My heart began to thump hard. I had never been in this kind of dangerous situation before. What could I do? Was it money he wanted? My phone? My car? He made his intentions known by burying his head in the crook of my neck. I winced as he nibbled on the skin. His stench made me queasy. I felt my dress being lifted up. His hand left my mouth, and I yelled immediately’’. Somebody help me!’’.He sent another punch to my face, silencing me. After the jab he had given, his strong arms ripped my dress from the top. He then ran his lips along my exposed cleavage.

I was filled with disgust at his rough lips on my sensitive skin. He was going to rape me. Tears blurred my vision as I pleaded with him. He wasn’t listening to my pleas, instead started to pull down his jeans. ‘’Oh my God’’. I muttered as soon as I felt the evidence of his arousal against me’’. No, please’’. I had a family to think about. ‘’Please, Please, don’t do this; I’ll give you money, anything you want’’. I muttered through my tears. ‘’Please’’. I increased my voice, feeling my underwear being lowered to my knees’’. I beg you’’.Seconds after, I winced after I felt his penis stroke my thighs. He spread my legs apart and cackled hard. I sobbed’’. Please, don’t do this’’.He pinned my hands to the concrete floor. He had a sick smirk on his face and muttered,’’. Calm down’’.Believe me when I said I fought. But he overpowered me. Forcefully, he managed to get into me.

I kept muttering the word “no’’. He wasn’t interested in my consent. It didn’t matter to him. He bounced back between whispering sweet nothings and threats of violence if I thought of shouting. It hurt. It really did. At a point, I stopped screaming. I felt myself getting weak, my soul departing from my body at every thrust. I gave up. I did not oppose it anymore. I had no other choice. No helper was present. I let him have his way, and the monstrosity of evil left me afterward. I was in desperate need of help. I didn’t remember much, but I remember sobbing and letting the darkness overwhelm me. Now, I would have to live with the harsh reality that I had been brutally raped. 

& “Post-assault life”

It had been a month since the assault. How did I feel? Spaced-out, zoned-out.All the time. My mother-in-law, Mabel, had told me that I would get over it and that the experience would be behind me in days. She lied. I still feel the effect of the assault to date. That nerve-wracking night, I was saved by the company cleaner, who took me to the police station to report the crime. I was refused a rape kit, and they insisted that I go home. I was so upset when the head officer said,’’. There’s nothing we can do’’.I accepted my defeat. There would be no justice. Upset, Jamal took me to the hospital. I had chunks of my hair ripped out and scratched on my body. The doctor had performed a series of tests. I was lucky to have escaped an STI.

That night, I remember the intense numbness. I stayed on the sofa, choked up in my thoughts, staring at blank space. Poor Jamal was so bothered and worried, confused about what to say to me. That night, I had constantly screamed at him’’. Do not touch me!’’.There was a strong urge to clean me. I felt extremely filthy and would spend hours trying to scrub off the dirt caused by that monster. I was visited by friends and family; some called to ask about my well-being. The following week, I returned to work, where I had a mental episode and threatened to kill myself in front of everyone. My boss then suggested that I take some time off work.

I did. It was best for my mental health. During the time spent at home, I realized that I had PTSD. Sometimes, I would wake up panicked and disturbed. I became paranoid, felt someone was out to get me, and worried over safety. The nightmares were worse and were more frequent. I had numerous panic attacks. I never sought out help for my situation. When someone had suggested it to me, my mother-in-law and others claimed that I was fine, that I would get over it’’. You should just pray more’’. They said. They thought I was strong. I wasn’t. And it hurt, trying to show strength when I was on the verge of breaking down. Three days ago, I returned back to work. I couldn’t manage to stay under the same roof as my mother-in-law, who had nothing to do but criticize and castigate me.

The office was different; it didn’t feel like home anymore. I was highly disconnected from work and could barely concentrate on a staff conversation or meeting. Each time I passed the parking lot, I felt like knives were being pierced into my back continuously. I knew I couldn’t handle it, but I looked like I was ready to take on the world on my face because everyone expected me to be strong. So I had to be.“Look, Look, Look’’.I heard after stepping into the company reception. I knew that voice from anywhere. The receptionist began to whisper things to a fellow co-worker. Gladys was her name, the busybody of the company. The scrawny little woman had everyone’s business in her mouth and sprung out lies to the rest of her meddling crew.

People wanted to know more about my situation, not because they cared, but just wanted to have opinions about my case. Some blamed me for the rape, because of the hour I was working and because of how I dressed on a regular basis. They make me feel like I brought it upon myself. That “I caused it.”For God’s sake, I didn’t have a sign on my head that said, “Rape me’’.I locked eyes with Gladys, and she smiled, saying,’’. Good morning, Mrs.Deola’’. Her fellow meddler smiled at me also’’. How was your night?’’.I gave a sharp answer with an emotionless expression on my face; I gave a sharp answer’’. Good’’. Following my answer, I heard their silly remarks behind my back. I stepped into my office and shut the door immediately. I took a deep breath and settled down on my swivel chair.‘’God, please, let today be good’’. I prayed silently, hoping for a smooth day.

I was startled as soon as I heard a knock. Mr. Harvey stepped into the office. He trailed in with another man’’. Adeola’’. He smiled warmly. I plastered a smile on my face and stood up’’. Mr. Harvey, good morning. He nodded’’. Just wanted to introduce our new worker’’. He turned to the man and said,’’. This is Ahmed. He is going to take over from Beatrice’’. Mr. Harvey informed me. Beatrice was the ex-head accountant who was fired based on numerous theft charges. He then said to the new worker’’. Ahmeed, this is Adeola Adeolu, our very own office oyinbo’’. He teased. I struggled to smile at his joke. Ahmeed stretched out his hand to shake mine’’. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Adeolu’’.I zoned out. Ahmeed had an awful striking resemblance to my assaulter. His eyes were as wild as his, and he had the same skin tone. I looked down at his hand. What if it was as coarse as the monsters? I couldn’t bear to feel his coarse hands again.

Anxious questions began to circle around my mind. What if he’s the one? What if he cleaned himself up and wanted to take advantage of me again? Why is he here?

He’s here to hurt me. He’s going to kill me. No! Not today! I noticed my anxious thoughts turn into angry, raging ones. My lips formed a frown as I thought about all the despicable things I would do to him if he tried his little stunt again.‘’I will rip you apart, but not before enjoying every second of you screaming in excruciating pain. I will kill you’’.  I saw the confused look form on Ahmeed’s face as he slowly retracted his hand. Mr. Harvey’s voice brought me out of my reverie’’. Adeola?’’.

I quickly glanced away from him to Mr. Harvey. ‘’Is everything okay?’’. He asked me, and I nodded vigorously. I turned back to Ahmeed’’. Glad to have you here, Ahmeed’’.‘’ Thank you’’. He said with a smile that was possibly forced. He must have thought I was crazy. Mr. Harvey instructed Ahmeed to wait outside as he spoke to me. ‘’Adeola, is everything okay?’’. He asked me’’. Are you alright?’’. ‘’Yes’’. I said and pulled up a smile to assure him’’. Very okay’’. ‘’Because if you aren’t, you can take a few days off’’. He suggested. And breathe the same air with my mother-in-law? No, thank you. I chuckled and waved it off’’. No, I’m good. Thank you’’. Mr. Harvey offered’’. And If you need to talk, I’m here’’.And have people think that I’m your mistress. No, thank you.

I smiled and nodded’’; yes, Mr. Harvey. Thank you for your concern’’.I wished the office would seem like a form of escapism from my problems. I felt urged to quit my job, leave my country, and start over. How could I do that to Jamal? He had been so helpful in the house, especially with my son. One thing I noticed between us was the lack of intimacy. Jamal and I had always been so comfortable around each other. Ever since the assault, I did not feel comfortable touching him or dressing in front of him. Each time he touched me, I was hit with flashbacks. I was extremely uncomfortable.

The last time we had sex, I forced myself to keep up with his energy. After that, I had a panic attack in the shower stall. I was scared my new situation would interfere with our marriage. I was afraid that we had lost our spark. By noon, Mr. Harvey had called for a general meeting in the conference room to discuss the progress of the literary works for the month. I had never had a problem with the usual Wednesday general meeting, but today, the number of people stocked up in the room freaked me out. Or maybe Ahmeed, my assaulter’s twin, was the problem.

I felt the air escape my lungs. I cleared my throat, and some of the staff looked at me worriedly. I sent an apologetic smile their way and focused on what Mr. Harvey was saying. My chest got clogged up for no particular reason. It became difficult to breathe. I did not want any attention directed to myself. I did not want to be seen as the one who needed help. It began to be completely impossible to breathe. I felt choked. I had to leave to calm my nerves down. Abruptly, I stood up, and all eyes were on me. I struggled to say’’. Please, excuse me’’.I hurriedly walked out of the conference room and stormed into my office. I leaned on the door. My hand stayed on my chest as I tried to breathe.

A panic attack. I was hyperventilating. I suddenly felt hot. I took off my jacket and tossed it towards the table. Anxiety filled each part of me. I began to pace around, whispering repeatedly’’. You’re okay; You’re okay’’.Hearing the door open, I lifted my eyes from my shivering hands. Mr. Harvey stepped in and had concern splashed all over his face’’. Adeola?’’. I averted my tear-filled eyes away from him. I sat on the chair and drew out a deep breath. He asked’’. Do you need me to call someone? A doctor? Your husband?’’. 

‘’No’’. I answered. He took a deep breath and said,’’. Take the rest of the day off’’.He further said,’’. Come back when you feel better’’. "That would never be’’. I wanted to say but nodded instead. He attempted to touch me, but I turned away quickly. No one should touch me. He exhaled and said,’’. Take care’’.Getting home, I met my mother-in-law, who was with a friend. ‘’Adeola’’. She said with a surprised face’’. Why are you home this time?’’. She glanced at the clock.‘’ Half-day’’. I lied; I didn’t feel the need to tell her about my rough day. She would just tell me to suck it up. Like always.‘’And how is everything going?’’. She asked me. I put up a smile on my face’’. Good, thank you’’. ‘’Hmmm’’. She said with narrowed eyes. I sensed judgment oozing out of her. I hated her condescending tone. I said with a nod’’. If you will excuse me’’.I heard her say,’’. My friend, don’t mind her. She’s acting like she’s the first to get raped’’.

& “The harsh reality”

First to get raped.”I pondered on what she said for a while. I expected it from her, but it still stung hard. She didn’t understand how hard it was to live with the reality of being a sexual assault victim. I couldn’t bear to be in the same environment as her. I decided to go for a stroll with my son and the puppy. Hopefully, she would leave with her negativity before nightfall. I realized Jamal was home. I walked into our bedroom to greet him. He stood up at my arrival’’. Babe’’. He kissed the top of my head and asked,’’. How was today?’’.I answered with a small smile’’. Good, a bit stressful’’. If I told my husband that I had left the office, he would be worried. I was in no mood to talk.‘’ Same’’. He said before wrapping his arms around me from behind. He placed a kiss on my cheek’’. Where’s Depo?’’. ‘’In his room’’. I answered. ‘’Are you good?’’. He asked me. Was I? I nodded and said,’’. Yes, I am’’.He smiled’’. Have I told you that I love you?’’.Why should you love me? I’m a mess. Jamal’s perfect lips began to move softly along the nape of my neck, up to my ears.

At that moment, my nerves began to run wild. I noticed my heart thumping harder and harder. ‘’God, I missed you’’. He cooed by my ear. My body was giving me signs to stop this little act before it got out of control, before I reacted rashly. I found it hard trying to follow his hungry treacherous kisses. With shaky fingers, I held him close. Why did I do that? A teeny part of me wanted to be intimate with my husband, but my mind was rejecting that desire. He stripped away the last piece of clothing and pulled me to the velvet-draped bed. He lowered his body to mine. I tried to focus on the passionate love we were about to make, but I couldn’t.

He began placing feathery kisses on my body. I felt desire surge through him. It was a shame I couldn’t respond with the same energy. I tried to focus on his perfect lips and closed my eyes tightly to avoid thinking about that man and his raspy moans of that night. I tried to get lost in Jamal’s kisses; perhaps they might take me to another world, where everything is fine. I wanted to back out, but Jamal seemed like he really needed me. I flinched at his entry and released a whimper. Silent alarms went off in my head, warning me to pull away. My palms were unusually sweaty; I couldn’t breathe. Jamal muttered lowly’’. You’re so beautiful’’.

That was a trigger. I recalled my assaulter had said that on that awful night. The whole assault scene played out in my head. I wasn’t in danger, but I felt like I was. This act wasn’t working, no matter how sweet his kisses were or soft his strokes were.‘’Get off me’’. I said. He probably mistook my refusal as a moan. Feeling overwhelmed, I let out a sob and tapped him on his back repeatedly’’. Get off me, Jamal!’’.I further yelled,’’. Don’t touch me!’’.Startled, he hastily moved away from my body. I couldn’t bear to look at him. In tears, I moved away from the bed and grabbed my silk robe to cover up my naked body. This assault had taken away my old self, my love for my job, and my vibrant sex life.

I was broken for life. Jamal had not said a thing, probably ruminating on his next move. I wanted to know what he was thinking’’. Jamal’’.He took a deep breath and looked at me. I saw the mix of guilt, hurt, and empathy in his eyes."Are you okay?’’. He asked me, and I murmured,’’. Yes’’."NO!" His yell took me by surprise. I flinched and moved backward, scared that he might lay his hands on me. His eyes flashed with anger. He said with a pause between each word’’. You. Are. Not. Okay’’.He knew. So, why should I keep lying? I nodded and sniffed’’. How can I be? When your mother_’’. He interrupted harshly’’. Don’t bring my mother into this!’’. I narrowed my eyes at his tone, unaware of the reason behind his anger. He said," You and my mother have had issues in the past. Don’t put this on her. This is all you, Adeola." Silence filled the room. Was he trying to blame me for something I had no control of?

He crossed his arms’’. Okay, tell me what to do." When he said that, I looked at him; Tears blurred my vision. I sniffed and said." I don’t know’’. He gave a frustrated sigh’’. Oh, God." How is it that he feels frustrated? If I remember clearly, I was the one who was raped. Unknown unquenchable anger filled me. It began to build up as I spoke vehemently. "What’s wrong, David? Because it sounds like you’re frustrated. If you haven’t forgotten, David. My tone got higher’’. I was raped by a stranger, and it’s a miracle that I don’t have AIDS or any other disease! I was almost killed, for God’s sake!"

I walked closer to him’’. Do you know how it feels? To wake up every morning and be scared? Do you know how I feel? Did you ever ask me once if I was okay?’’. ’What do you mean?’’. It seemed like he was angry too by the glare thrown my way’’. What do you mean by that?! Don’t be silly because I asked you!’’.I retorted’’. Yes, once or twice and then after a week, nothing!’’. ‘’Because you seemed fine!’’. He yelled. I yelled back’’. I was faking it! I have for weeks!’’.I shivered’’. I am depressed. I feel like attaching myself to a railway track. I feel like overdosing on paracetamol or any crap I can see. I want to die! I am not okay!"

Tears ran down my cheeks". And everyone expects me to move on. How can I explain to you that I’m scared? I remember that man each time you touch me, and you sound frustrated. You put yourself in my shoes. I had no justice; I work in the place where the rape happened. Do you think I like feeling this way? No, I do not! I miss being happy; I miss laughing’’. ‘’Everyone just says I should suck it up and move on. How can I?’’. My body shook after a sob escaped my lips’’. It hurts that you don’t care’’. His eyes flashed with sympathy. I turned away from him’’. I’m just scared’’. I felt his hands encircle around my body’’ Adeola’’. He cooed. In his arms, I heard him murmur that everything would be okay.

& “Get help”

Doctor Adesewa Daniels.

She was supposed to be my savior, the one that would help me navigate my life as a sexual-assault victim. She was suggested by a friend in church who urged me to set up an appointment. With Jamal’s support, I was finally willing to seek help. Her office was situated in Diana survivor’s foundation center for abused women. The center offered various services like medical examination and treatment by trained examiners, counseling, and assistance in legal cases. Daniels was a counselor that specialized in assault cases. My friend had mentioned that she was the best. Hopefully, Daniels will be able to provide me with the appropriate psychosocial support to move on in life. I locked eyes with the middle-aged woman. She cleared her throat before saying,’’. I hear you’ve been avoiding therapy’’. I nodded in response to her question’’. Yes, I have, only because I felt I didn’t need it. Everyone told me I would be fine without it’’.I added a lie’’. Plus, I haven’t really had time’’.

She nodded and asked the main question’’. How have you been coping since the assault?’’ After noticing my taciturnity, she exhaled’’. I need you to be open and honest with me, Adeola. This is a place for help. There would be no judgment’’. She softly persuaded me’’. I am here to help you’’.I exhaled and said,’’. I doubt you will understand me’’.She chuckled’’. Try me. I was unknowingly fed sleeping pills for a year by my husband. And what was he doing to me while I was asleep each night? Raping me’’. She said,’’. He had sex with me without my consent. I noticed that I would be extremely tired in the morning. I found out and tried reporting him to the police. They told me that he’s my husband. He had every right to sex. He said I gave up my consent the minute he paid my bride price. It doesn’t matter if I’m tired, in pain, or on my period. If he wanted it now, he would get it’’.

‘’Oh my God’’. That was all I could say. She nodded’’. Yes. Welcome to the society that encourages men to get sex anytime and anywhere they want. The word “No’’ is not respected anymore. I couldn’t possibly dream about having that kind of a spouse’’. I’m so sorry’’. I said to her. She nodded with a small toothless smile’’. I understand perfectly what you are going through. Crying spells, anxiety, hyperventilation, nightmares, I can relate to all of that’’.‘’ Most rape victims know their attacker’’. She let me know’’. Do you know that some rape survivors are considered adulterers and punished in different ways? Some even marry their rapist or are put to death’’.‘’ So, Adeola’’. She said,’’. How are you feeling?’’.‘’ Like a walking corpse’’. I answered’’. Each day, I’m either anxious, scared, or angry. Somedays, I’m emotionless. I feel numb’’. I took a deep breath’’. I want to kill myself’’. I revealed and looked at her’’. Everyone says I should move on and be strong for my family. I’m trying, but I can’t. I can’t work, I can’t concentrate, I can’t be intimate with my husband. I go everywhere, and the rape replays in my mind like a movie. They don’t understand’’.

She nodded and said,’’. They can’t understand because they are not you. My husband did something that was completely inhumane’’. ‘’He tied me to the bed and raped me’’. She continued to speak of her rocky life. How is this woman still living? I was raped by a stranger. She was raped by someone she once wanted to spend her entire life with. How did she deal with the betrayal?‘’My father told me to forget about it, go on with my life, and show strength’’. She said,’’. And that was two days after the assault. I didn’t listen. I embraced my vulnerability. I broke down in my home.‘’And the next day, I sought out help’’. She said,’’. Not for anyone but myself’’.‘’ Adeola, you have a family to cater to’’. She said,’’. It’s normal for you to want to be strong, but....’’. She reached out and held my hands’’. You are clearly going through something. You can break down. Cry because you are hurting; talk about your feelings openly." She encouraged.

My lips quivered. I was on the verge of letting the sadness overwhelm me’’’. What if everyone thinks I’m weak?" ‘’You know your challenges’’. She said, holding on to my hand’’. No one knows it but you, Adeola. It is a lot. The first step is to cry and accept that you’re hurting and figure out ways that can help you live with this." "There’s strength in showing vulnerability’’. She reminded me.‘’So, break down, Adeola’’. She urged me with a small smile. "It’s your process of healing, whether quick or long, it’s yours’’. That’s when I realized that this was my healing. Whether long or short, it’s my journey of figuring out everything and moving on after. It’s my healing, and however long it takes, it’s still going to be mine. It’s mine.

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