A conversation on rape

BY OSHORIAME EGBAKHUMEH

I would like to have a conversation with the person that spread the idea that a victim is responsible for rape. I would like to know why he believes a woman walking alone at night deserves to be violated by another. I would like to know why he believes a woman who isn’t wearing what he deems as “decent” deserves to be assaulted by another. I would like to know if he thinks a three-month-old baby girl, whom a man raped, was responsible for the violation. Maybe the buttons of her cute onesie were not fastened and he found it seductive. I would like to know if he thinks an eighty-year-old woman, who was violated in her sleep, was “asking for it”.

I would like to know why he believes a woman who visited her male friend was consenting to sex as she pressed the doorbell. This is my letter to you. I am nineteen years old and I have lived a very restricted life. Human beings are not born with fear. It is a feeling that comes with our life experiences. You are the reason for my greatest fear in this life. You are the reason death is not my greatest fear. You are the reason sexual assault and rape are my greatest fears.

Your ideas have been passed on through generations. Your ideas found me and made me scared to live my life to the fullest. You have told me that I must be careful of the places I go to because if I do, someone else would have the right to violate me. You have told me that when I am walking on the streets of Lagos, I must look unattractive to avoid being violated by someone else. You have told me that when I am in the market and John gropes me, it is normal and I must ignore because it is what men do.

However, I want to let you know that other experiences have changed my perspective. The victim is not to blame. The violator is at fault. He has planned to violate me. He has been taught by society to see me as his. He has been encouraged to do with me whatever he pleases if I give him reasons to. He has been told that I am to be dressed well enough to prevent his lust from taking over. He has been hyped to believe that no one would believe me when I speak up. He knows I will be shamed. He knows I will be bullied. He knows he will get away with it. Therefore, he violates me.
You do not realise the mental and psychological impact you have had on my life as a girl. In this Nigerian heat, God forbid I think of going out in a strapless tank top to cool off. I must cover my body and let my sweat drip to avoid tempting you. I must be conscious of who I allow see me smile because my dimples might be too seductive for my potential violator.

I have noticed your reactions to various stories.
When you heard she went to his house, you asked, “What was she doing at a man’s house?”
When you heard a stranger on the street groped her, you said, “Well, maybe she was dressed like a prostitute.”
When you heard she was reading in church before she was raped and killed, you asked, “Is church the appropriate place to read?”

When you heard they were both drunk, you said, “Well, you should not have been drunk with a man that was not in the right state.” When you heard she accused him of rape, you said, “She is just trying to soil his reputation. She is trying to extort him. She is doing it for clout.”

When you heard she accused him of sexual assault, you said, “She is lying. She is just angry that he refused her.”
Do you want to know the questions you did not ask? You did not ask why the man thought it was okay to touch me without my consent. You did not ask why I did not violate the man in our drunken state. You did not ask why someone was capable of raping and killing a young girl in a sacred place. You did not ask yourself why you have placed his dignity higher than mine. You have told me that it is more acceptable to rape and kill in church than read alone.

Do you know that rape and sexual assault are the most underreported crimes? You have played your part in ensuring people remain silent. You have played your part in encouraging a system that fails to protect its women.
You have also silenced male victims because you have made them feel embarrassed about what happened to them. They do not want to let anyone know they were not in control because you told them they control everything and everyone. When they speak up, it is the women that fight for them while you laugh at their “weakness”.
Moreover, if it is not clear to you by now, I am telling you that you are destructive. You have failed to protect the rights of others. Your ideas have silenced people who need help. Your ideas have encouraged people who know they will not be punished when they violate another person.

I am fed up with you. You have taken so much from so many people. You have stopped me from being myself. You have made me feel unprotected. You have made me unsure of myself. You make me feel hopeless. You have taught me over and over again that no matter what happens to me, he is not to blame. My looks and actions are to blame.
Victim blaming damages our society. A society that fails to protect everyone has failed. Always trying to make victims feel like they are responsible for the violations has caused many people to suffer in silence. I do not want you to continue doing this. I want you to do better for the girls and boys after me.

Teach everyone the meaning of consent. Stop saying “boys will be boys” when they hurt girls. Stop telling girls they are not equal to men (Galatians 3:28 – “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”). Yes, even the religion you have gotten most of your ideas from does not agree with you.

Lastly, I am going to tell you one of my scariest moments. Do you know Uyinene Mrwetyana’s story? She was a 19-year-old South African student who was raped and killed by Luyanda Botho. Botho worked at the post office Uyinene visited. Two days before I went to the post office during Summer ’19, Uyinene’s story became public. Here was a beautiful girl, my age, who went to the post office like I was about to. I cried that day because I thought of the amount of fear she felt when he began torturing her. This is what happens to us when we go about our daily lives.
When I heard this story, I already gave in to the idea that there would be no form of justice. I almost stopped following the story until I started seeing there was a suspect. This is how defeated I feel when I hear these stories. I heard Uwa’s story and I did not believe justice would prevail.
I feel hopeless.

I am grateful for so many strong women. I am grateful for the women who have had the courage to share their stories and encounters. I am grateful for the women who have continued striving even after being assaulted. I am grateful for the women who will always support other women. I am grateful for the women who repeatedly tell us that victims are not responsible for the actions of their violators. I am grateful for the women who have taught me that sexual assault is not a normal experience I must encounter before I die. They need to keep doing this. They need to keep encouraging us to make changes in our thoughts, opinions and perceptions.

You cannot keep looking for the loopholes in stories being presented with the aim of shutting down victims. If you are listening to the accused’s defence wholeheartedly, you should do the same for the accuser’s story. It takes a lot of strength to call assaulters out and women who do so must be encouraged. It is not enough to shut all stories down because there have been false accusations in the past. Do not condemn one for the crimes of another.

Like Peter Marshall said: A different world cannot be built by indifferent people.