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I was at 300 level at the University of Lagos and for all my outgoing persona and loud talk, I was still a Virgin. It was internship period and there was a break that year, so students were few in school.
This guy had been hitting on me for a while and one evening when everyone had gone out I decided to finally take his offer for lunch. Later, he asked to get something from his flat, and looking back I blame myself for being naive, trusting, and not discerning.
While in his house it began raining and I asked to go back to my hostel. We went out and he tried to start his car but told me that it couldn’t start and I believed him. He then called a mechanic, and when I told him that it was getting late and I would just get myself home, he said the car was gone with my stuff in it including his wallet and so there was no way to pay for anything. He convinced me to spend the night and promised I would be fine.
At first, he was a gentleman. He slept in the sitting room and then at 2 a.m. I heard a knock and he asked me to open the door. “It’s his house,” I thought, “let him get what he wants,” and I opened the door. But then the story changed, all efforts to plead with his human nature fell on deaf ears. I was ushered into sex through rape, my face pressed into the bed while I choked on my tears.
I self-harmed for a while to numb and cope with the pain and some other mishaps.
I can’t remember my rapist, but I read about rape and I understood that I am blocking him out in my mind. I don’t know if that’s bad but all I know is that I am at peace now and I can say I have finally healed.
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