Like a lightning bolt, the blow struck my belly.
“Oh” I whimpered in pain clutching it tightly.
Another to my unprotected head, sent me head
first into the marshy, slimy floor.
Blurry sight, bloody nose, chipped teeth.
I could feel the rough hands ripped my Gown
from my neck and squeezed tightly at my
breasts.
I wanted to fight but my muscles weren’t mine
anymore.
“Oh Lord! please help me” I muttered as the
harassing hands scrapped my belly.
“Lord help me from this!” I kept chanting, eyes
tightly shut expecting the worst.
Those coarse hands made their way down my
body as I lie paralyzed on that marshy
pathway.
This pathway was one of the roads that had
been abandoned by pedestrians since the
government reconstructed and reopened the
Expressway.
Only few people still ply this road.
Few people still take this route to their
respective farms.
I tried attracting the attention of these few
people but my throat’s weakened muscles could
only manage whispers.
Those bawdy hands lacerated my thong, I could
hear the ripping sound as the cold, rainy
breeze swept over my exposed private part.
“Please!” was the word on my lips, tears flowed
sadly from my fuzzy eyes as my entire body
quivered to the unwanted sensation that was
surging through my body from my opened
member.
The body that own those rough hands jumped
on me as if I was an inanimate mattress, not
minding if I could get crushed.
His awful stench permeated into my nostrils
and nearly knocked me unconscious… as if his
blows weren’t enough.
I sighed, as my pride was about to be ripped
like my gown and pant.
I felt his Engorged and aggressive member peer
itself into my body.
“Aw” I exclaimed as a shot of pain rippled
through my body.
Deep, deeper and agonizingly deeper, he
burrowed aggressively into me with subsequent
thrusts that were accompanied by low grunts.
Suddenly, the piercing pain was replaced with
a new gush of pleasant and elated feelings.
I was just starting to enjoy the intercourse
when he twitched, spasmed and groaned as I
felt something watery splash into my intruded
part.
He leapt off me almost immediately.
I heard faintly, his footsteps shuffling away
from me.
I can’t still recall how and where I’ve
summoned the energy to drag my disheveled
and disfigured body off that boggy pathway,
blood trailing every step I took.
Gboom!
Like a sack of beans, I collapsed on rolls of
mats that were laid at the Baale’s palace.
Startling every one including the Baale and his
chiefs.
“Who are you?” They queried.
“Rape…Ajani” I responded incoherently.
“Which Ajani?” The Baale asked
“Otun’s son” I spilled, pointing my bloody index
finger to the chief sitting next to the Baale.
“My own Ajani! My own Ajani will never do such” he
retorted, springing off the stool as if it was on
fire.
Then the Baale released an atomic bomb.
“I’m sure you dressed seductively, that’s why you got
raped, Eyin Omo oniranu buruku yi!” he bellowed.
Oh! My God
That statement aggravated the pang that was
flooding me.
I wanted to stand up, hit the Baale with
something on his head and knock senses back
into his head.
I wanted to tell them that my dressing doesn’t
matter.
I wanted to tell them that I can’t be blame for
somebody else’s inability to hold and control his
manhood.
I wanted to tell them all that they were wrong.
I wanted to…
But my borrowed energy was far spent,
I saw the world take a swirling spin and my
eyelids became heavy, my neck heavier.
I dropped my head on the floor with a loud
bang.
I fainted.
***********************
Rape is Rape, no matter how the victim dressed.
Rape is ruinous, the trauma is eternal.
Rape should be a crime punishable by castration or
death.


culled from
https://onaplatewiththeunchoppableeba./2017/03/04/maimed-raped-and-blamed/