Every time I see a white Nissan Altima, my palms go sweaty, and my knees get weak. It’s an involuntary reaction born of so many nights being driven around Asokoro pinned to the floor of Tunji’s white Nissan Altima, barely able to breathe, the stench of weed stinging my eyes while I choked on the penis of whomever it pleased Mustapha to force me to pleasure that day.

I can’t have music playing while driving around in a car either. Or just sitting around at home. I can’t have music playing period. Especially not Maroon5. If I get into your car, please drive in fucking silence or you will make it hard for me to breathe.

Right now there are thousands of people running wild with their “opinions”, talking authoritatively about what Mustapha, Abdul, Tunji, and their band of friends and brothers did to me, as if they were there. As if they hovered around us unseen like evil spirits, listening to everything that was said, seeing everything that happened, as if they know.

Read on @: http://sugabellyrocks.com/2015/11/surviving-mustapha-audu-and-his-rape-brigade.html

@sandraokosun1 you were quoted by sugabelly