Anonymous Story: It Wasn’t My Fault

I was raped in my first year in school by a group of cultists. I was waiting for a male friend to go home with me when someone approached me and said that “his executioner” was calling me. I didn’t bother listening to him. He simply lifted his shirt and showed me a gun. I had to follow. If I’d raised alarm no one would have responded, River State University was really hot back then. He had his way with me, still holding his gun. When he finished, he passed me to his friend. There were four of them. Yes, they all had their way.

I went home in pain. My uncle with whom I was staying only screamed that I didn’t come home early enough and didn’t ask why I was lying in front of the house. The event took place on a Tuesday. By Saturday I finally summoned the courage to call my mum and inform her. She simply said I should get Postinor2 that it was my carelessness that caused it, that I probably was dressed indecently. I was wearing a 3 pieces suit skirt that was way below the knee and it was around 5 PM. It wasn’t my fault.

I withdrew, learned to deal with it on my own, became a sex addict, and nearly killed my then-boyfriend with my sex drive. If I was single, I’d masturbate every day sometimes multiple times. I started drinking, which took a huge toll on my health. In 2015, I met a great guy and opened up. He said if I stopped drinking, he’d be there whenever I needed to release the pain, instead of getting into toxic relationships to deal with the pain; so I quit drinking. He became my go-to therapy when I was fighting my demons.

Then he got married and I became like a burden, my sex drive got worse. I went back to drinking and partying and started doing girls. I tried reaching to my mum… She said she didn’t believe me because it wasn’t an isolated event. I was molested from 6 to 10 in the compound we were living by 3 men and I’d told her. So, she said I’d always liked men— that I was the one throwing myself at them, that how can all those things happen to only me.

I moved away from home, got into another toxic relationship, started living a reckless life, began having unprotected sex, drank even more, got pregnant twice (miscarried both), and sunk into a hole. That married guy showed up again and offered to care for me and get me treated if I quit drinking and partying. I did, and now he checks up on me constantly, keeps track of my activities, and pays the medical bills. Oh, and got me a dildo for my urges. That’s it. I haven’t drank in about 6 months. I haven’t popped pills to end my life in a while… I attempted suicide twice and used to overdose on my painkillers.

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