Friday, April 4, 2014

I Was Raped!

#SayNoToRape Day4

This a true life story!!!


My name is Efe and I finished from UNIBEN. That's all I will be willing to share on this platform as I crave my anonymity.

Where do I begin from? I am a rape victim and now .....

It all started some few years ago while I was seeking admission into the tertiary. I was eager and full of life. I had a friend that our relationship is purely platonic because I surely have a feeling most guys are interested in the triangle between my legs.

Let's call his name Jeff. He was cute and easy going, and has a way with words. He carry himself in an aristocratic way and commands respect of student because of his air of superiority he evoke. Ummm, am I eulogizing him? Far be it from me. I am just saying the obvious. I lost contact with him when he eventually gained admission into the university.

I went for pre-degree but eventually wasn't good enough for the admission because I was carried away by the liberty just trusted unto me unbidden. I lost focus and fail woefully.

Thank God for another year JAMB opportunity. I sat for the exam and passed. I got admitted into UNIBEN and wow my dream of studying Industrial microbiology becomes a reality.

I was staying with my God-mother until when I will be able to put my foot on ground. The day for my matriculation soon came and I was buzzing with happiness. I was still intact and untouched below the belt, you get my gist! A vir....

My godmother soon got a call from home and she ran home immediately without sharing in my joyful celebration. "Tsack! Such is life" , I sigh in Ibadan accent.

I am not a particularly party person but I was overjoyed to see Jeff in same school with me and especially as a "staylite". We gisted and talked for most of the day after the matriculation and he insisted in following me to my off campus hostel.

He stayed put even when the hour was getting late. I urged him to leave but he shrug, what are you afraid of? He said for the umpteenth time and I relaxed.

He slept on the couch, my temporary sleeping space while I make do with my godmother's bed in her absence.

In the middle of the night, I was dreaming about the long soothing conversation with a friend from the past. I felt the presence even before the touch, I saw another Jeff with sweat glistering his forehead, eyes bulging with animalistic desire and his third leg threatening to burst the seams of his trouser. His hands were groping everything under my dress without invitation. I open my mouth to scream but in a flash he stuff some clothing into opened mouth.

I pleaded and whimper but Jeff tore off my undies and with carefulness of a pervert thrust his bulging manhood into me, tearing my fragile hymen and taking away my innocence with it.

Every thrust with damaged my self-worth, dignity and every iota of my personality. After the damage done, he looked at me like a trash and whipped his bloody flaccid member on my lacy white and shredded panties. Leaving me with the damaged ego and damaged panties.

I refused to tell anyone but the scar of the event and the damage done to my psyche is irreparable. I avoided men like plague but that also couldn't heal or help me.

Six months down the line, he came begging me that it was the devil's work and that he love me blah blah blah. His sweet nonsense was irritating me but I played along because I have my well planned and thought out revenge package for him. I agree to date him but guess what? Revenge is sweet when served cold.

As I keep saying, any man that rape a woman is less than an animal because in their wretchedness they don't RAPE. I stand up against all forms of domestic violence and rape.

Isaacola AA
@newnaija on twitter

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Rape & The blame game

A popular saying goes “a problem shared is half solved.” Yes!
But a heart bottled in the pain of humiliation can never know
peace. The issue of rape is that which is discussed and shared
amongst us, but yet without the simplest solution.
This is very perturbing, and thus has sounded the alarm within
us to keep on speaking till we can reduce or inhibit this violence
and ungodly act.
Let us not fold our arms and watch our ‘PRIDE’ being trampled
upon and tormented without giving it a fight.
Rape is fiercer than a civil war, yet if we must win this battle,
we must fight with our heart and not watch on.
#Bloggersville presents.
“The pain of a withered rose, a
trumpet for war.”
#SayNoToRape Day III

Are Rape Victims To Blame For Their Predicament?

YES Because:
By dressing provocatively, being promiscuous, encouraging male attention with overt flirting and teasing, drinking excessively and by knowingly placing themselves in situations where they can be attacked like walking a deserted path home, some women consciously place themselves in danger of being sexually assaulted and are partly to blame.

To use a common comparison, if a man walks down a dark alley in a rough neighborhood with his money clip out, or engaging in other ostentatious displays of wealth, would we say he was completely without responsibility if he were robbed? We would likely conclude that while it was not his fault, and while he did not deserve it, he does bear some responsibility for putting himself in such a situation. On the other hand, he might be robbed in his driveway.

Similarly, the fact that some women are raped in circumstances in which they bear no responsibility does not absolve others who put themselves at risk of bearing some small amount of responsibility.

NO Because:
If it were true that the fashion of the day was the reason for the rape of women – then how could it be that rape exists in countries where women are not dressing according to western
fashions? Does every attractive young woman become a victim of rape? No that it is not a logical reason to suggest that Rape Victims are partly to blame. What could we say of an elderly woman or man who is raped by those who commit these crimes?

The reality is that no woman or man is going to knowingly place themselves in a situation of seeking rape. But there are many who are raped because of other situations – such as not being able to afford safe public transport – having no option but to walk a lonely path home. Sure there are cases where the social situation seems to contribute but it is not the environment but the rapist who commits the crime.

The affirmative argument has but one purpose to allow rapists and those who sympathize with them the opportunity to feel as the victims of a crime. Feeling encouraged or in a good position to commit a crime isn’t an excuse to commit a crime.

A victim should fight their rapist or try to resist, as if they didn’t they could have been seen as consenting or consenting at the time and regretting it later on. If rape is about violence and control and not about sex then there should be evidence of injury on the victim. When the victim does not fight back then they should be considered partly to blame.

This is a very common myth both in popular thinking or rape and in the criminal justice system. If a victim does not fight back or if there is a lack of injuries on their body then this is not a sign they need to take some responsibility for what happened. Many victims submit to the violence and control for fear that they will be harmed further or killed if they resist or try to fight back.

For victims it can just be about surviving the attack. A lack of injuries does not mean the assumption must be they consented.

The notion that rape is a crime that is about power rather than sex is to look at the issue solely from the victim’s point of view. If we wish to understand the phenomenon in its entirety, we must also look at it from the perpetrators point of view.

There are clearly many ways in which a violent individual may express violent tenancies that do not involve rape. Football hooliganism would be one example. That a rapist chooses rape instead of these other means, suggests that for them, rape IS about sex as well as power.

If we are to offer effective advice to people on how to protect themselves and minimize the possibility of themselves becoming victims: we must recognise the sexual dimension of the crime and tailor our advice accordingly. This includes encouraging people not to engage in behaviour which is liable to make them more vulnerable or more attractive to a potential predator.

The idea that a rape victim can be partly to blame is based on the idea that once aroused the rapist can no longer control themselves. Study has shown this to be untrue and completely ignores the point that rape is about violence and control and not about the act of sex.

There you have it… What’s your thought on this issue? Join the debate, leave comments below.

Written by Glowville

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Chain Reaction

A popular saying goes “a problem shared is half solved.” Yes! But a heart bottled in the pain of humiliation can never know peace. The issue of rape is that which is discussed and shared amongst us, but yet without the simplest solution.

This is very perturbing, and thus has sounded the alarm within us to keep on speaking till we can reduce or inhibit this violence and ungodly act.
Let us not fold our arms and watch our ‘PRIDE’  being trampled upon and tormented without giving it a fight.

Rape is fiercer than a civil war, yet if we must win this battle, we must fight with our heart and not watch on.
#Bloggersville presents “The pain of a withered rose, a trumpet of war.”

This is the usual rhythm of my love making. I will go on until my libido has been satiated and my final grunt has been heard. I do not bother to look at the tears streaming down the face of my partner nor am I bothered about the cuts and bruises I have left on her vagina and body. Those cuts on her vagina did not happen because I have a huge member, it is actually quite small. They are as a result of the force and brutality which characterizes my love making. Please, do not insult me and call it sex; I only make love. You are probably thinking that I am crazy or a perv, right? You won't be the first. My name is Dr. Gentle Adigwe (yes, the name is a big irony) and I am going to tell you my story.

I would skip the beginning and tell you what you want to know. I was twelve years old and in JSS 3 when Nwanne, the help called me into her room and ordered me to take off my shorts. I laughed at her joke and told her that I will 'tell my mummy for her'. I took my words back when she put a knife against my throat and told me to 'try it'. She took my shorts down and started stroking me. I was too scared and couldn’t get it up and she ended up making me fondle her breasts and touch her privates. Nwanne didn't come to my room again until two weeks later. This time, she came with a rope and tied me to a chair. She performed my first oral on me and managed to get it up. She started humping on it and soon as she saw that I was enjoying it, she gave me a slap. I started crying and that was what made her cum. This continued for two years until she got married and left. I still have marks all over my body from canes, slaps, cuts and bites. All this while I had never ejaculated because Nwanne never allowed it.

I met Njideka when I was fifteen. She was posted to my school for her Nysc and I was the head boy. One thing led to another and I waylaid her one evening. I told her that I loved her and she laughed at me. I simply brought out the knife in my pocket and asked her to strip and lie down on the floor. She started begging me and I realised that I was aroused. I didn't even have to tell her to blow me like Nwanne used to do. Jide was my first sexual conquest and with her I experienced my first orgasm. I went home that day and I knew that I was powerful. It felt better because I knew that she would never tell a soul.

After Jide, I made love to a couple of girls; yes, it was love making not rape. Most of them seduced me and wanted to put up a fight when I was ready for them. Stupid girls! The struggle only made it sweeter for me.
I graduated as the best student in my department. I had raped, errrrm, made love to uncountable scores of girls at that time. I tried to do it right and be gentle, honestly, I did. I actually 'toasted' a girl. I endured all the rubbish she put me through and waited patiently for the cookie. When it was time to eat it, I just couldn't get it up because I couldn't hurt her. She thought it was her fault and she convinced me to “do what I want to”. She never spoke to me again after that day.

I specialised in Obstetrics and Gynaecology because I had learnt a wonderful way to continue with my deeds during my internship. Word on the streets is that I am the best 'abortion doctor' around. It is also well known that if you do not have money, I am very willing to help out. What did they not know is that I drug them and have sex with them (against their will of course) before the abortion. All through the years my philosophy has always been the same....F**k! and do not get *f**ked!!!". Did I tell you that I had my way with Nwanne in her husband's house when she was heavily pregnant? My best act yet. I went to visit her when I was eighteen and I tied her to a chair and had my way with her. Her screams and tears made it worthwhile.

Thing is, I have a lovely wife. We have been married for five years and we have two kids. I have never had sex with her on her terms. It just doesn’t work for me. I thought she would get used to my method but she still hasn’t. How can she when that would defeat the whole purpose? I am surprised that she hasn’t left me, actually. To reduce the pain I inflict on her, I satiate my cravings with other girls. I rape them (yes, I agree) because that is the only way I can feel pleasure. Their screams and pleas make me happy. I am not a sadomasochist; I know this because my wife has made me try BDSM. It was disgusting!!! That is not what gives me pleasure. It is forcing the lady against her wish that gives me joy. The fact that I am the only one deriving pleasure from the act is more satisfying than I can explain.

I am writing this because I have finally accepted that I am a rapist. When I looked at the tears streaming down the face of the ten year old, virgin, aramajiri girl that I raped last night, I knew that I had a problem. I have never told anyone my story. My wife doesn’t even know why I behave the way I do. I used to believe that my life was ruined and so other people’s lives should be ruined too. That was in the past, I have a change of heart now. The truth is I love my wife and I would really love to make her happy. I would love to be able to kiss and caress her and make her feel pleasure but I cannot. Well, I am hoping that soon I will be able to. Please, I need help.

My name is Dr. Gentle Adigwe and I am a rapist.

I know that a lot of people have stories like this to tell. Tales of how they were molested in their childhood and so became scarred after that. Tales of how they were bullied, and they developed inferiority complexes. Truth is there is no excuse that is enough. There is absolutely no reason to rape another person. If your partner is interested in BDSM and you decide to participate, then good for you but if he/she says NO, the No should stand. I pray that the God Lord helps the victims that need closure and may he give rapists the grace to live normal, loving lives in Jesus’ name. Amen.

written by:

A Victim of The gods (Chain Reaction)

"Na the old gods dey wait make rapist turn 90years old before dem catch am, the God of today delivers judgment sharperly #SayNoToRape" 18+

His torso ripped with veins showing through his formerly white but now brown singlet as he pushed the buggy of water into the hostel, this was his final round of water supply for the morning and he was ready to go take a shower, devour some " Tuwo shinikafa" and rest before the already tingling sun starts to burn. The shinikafa was more on his mind as he jerked two 25litres kegs of water from the buggy with accustomed ease and danced along the tiny path to the rear of the hostel, pulling the heavy weight of the water, and jiggling like a palsy patient with every step he took. He emptied the water into the drum in quick succession and made his way back to the buggy to grab another set of kegs, oblivious of the hundreds of wolfish eyes staring at him in wild ecstasy or what lies ahead as he performed his routine without any care in the world. 

His thighs and biceps throbbed as he emptied the 8th keg of water and the morning sun danced caressingly on his dark golden skin, two more kegs and he's done for the morning, the thought of food gave him the strength to maintain his balance but the aroma of different concoction oozing out from the kitchen of the hostel weakens his resolve. He sat on the edge of the two kegs he'd just emptied to make sure they didn't compress them with his weight while he savoured the sweet mix coming from the kitchen, he closed his eyes and laid back a little, hoping to find the edge of the drum with the back of his head, but before his head could find it, he felt something soft touch his shoulder and he jerked back to life startled, almost kicking off the tray of food Adaeze was holding as he made to stand up in a rush. 
"Calm down Abu, it's me, I only brought you some food to help you regain your strength, you'll be needing it since you still have two more kegs to carry"
His lips curled with a smile in appreciation, he collected the tray and balanced it on his laps as he repositioned himself on the two empty kegs to devour the meal, "the Tuwo will have to move to lunch zone" he thought to himself as smiled at the pile of yam and scrambled egg sauce on his lap, he muffled "thank you Ada"  with some accent as Adaeze headed for the door with the towel on her body barely clinging to her heavy set chest. He descended on the food but couldn't help noticing as her buttocks wriggled and whined with every step she took as she walked back into the hostel, he smiled, shook his head and went ballistic on the yam, swallowing every bite speedily as if she might return to collect the food from him. The plate was empty in minutes and he wiped his mouth with the edge of his brownish singlet, he carefully placed the now empty plate and tray beside the drum and ran to the buggy to grab the last two kegs with his new found strength making it a easy swig.

He made the turn with two kegs dangling from his strong arm and met Adaeze standing beside the drum, waiting with a glass of cold juice in her hands, now she had a white tee-shirt on with the towel still on her waist, her nipples stood through the shirts as if they were competing for attention with the glass of juice. Abu dropped the kegs without attempting to empty them into the waiting drum that was almost filled, he collected the cold glass, and his brushed hers, sending a colder chill down his spine. He downed the whole glass of juice in a single gulp and returned the glass to her without saying a word. 
"Well-done Abu, just empty this last two in the drum and call my name when you are through so I can give you your balance, I no forget your birthday ooo!, infact I have something for you today because I fit no dey around next tomorrow" she said. 
Abu nodded in response, grabs a keg and continued with his work. He started feeling strange as he emptied the second keg, he struggled with the heat in his loin, his body was throbbing now as if he's under a spell, he yawned heavily, dropped the empty keg and headed towards the door like a lion that just sprung up from a large meal screaming "Ada! Ada!!". He met her at the door but this time with just the tee-shirt on her, without a towel or anything at all covering her naked round body, and before he could say a word, Ada grabbed his already turgid manhood and dragged him into the hostel's kitchen. He could see four other girls in the kitchen but his vision was getting blurred already, he could only hear them giggle, he tried resisting but his hands were heavy and weakened by some strange forces, his eyes fluttered but he could only feel as more hands grabbed his manhood and body and laid him on something hard but cold. "I am going to be 17 years old in two days" was the last thought that flashed through his head, a 17 years old virgin.

He felt warm and cold, his legs were weak, his whole body was dripping wet and his mouth was sore. He couldn’t stand up from the cold hard floor of the kitchen and somehow, he could see Ada and the other girls exploding in screams in turn all over him… He couldn't define what has happened but he was sure whatever it was had drained life out of him, probably it was something in the juice or probably something that happened here on the floor of the kitchen. He crawled out to the back of the building, dragged himself down to the drum and poured some water on himself. He gained some strength and staggered along, leaning n the kegs a little and remembering to pick them up as he slowly made his way back to his buggy. The sun was burning already but he couldn't even feel a thing or remember how long he's been in the hostel. The security woman at the entrance was surprised to see him come out of the hostel as he struggled to pull the buggy out of the compound, "Abu where you dey since, wetin do you" but he couldn't find enough strength to open his mouth. He pulled the buggy to the road, staggered and struggled with the buggy along, trying to remember what happened to him in there, still drowsy and weak. He straightened up a little to shield his face from the burning sun when he suddenly saw Adaeze crossing from the other end of the road to his side, he froze and didn't see or hear the incoming truck, he swirled into the middle of the road unknowingly and was knocked clean from behind into the gutter. The force of the impact sent the buggy in Ada's direction, crashing her legs, ribs and skull into the wall of the open drainage.

He pulled himself out from the gutter groaning as the crowd rushed towards him and her, everything seems clearer now, he remembered everything now, he tried standing up but his limbs were so weak, luckily for him, no bone was broken but his whole body felt heavier. His mouth was swollen and has he touched it, a pang of excruciating pain shot through his being. He felt hands holding him as the truck driver sped away, the people around rushed and pulled her jerking, marred body from the gutter and placed it on his buggy and everything seems to be happening from afar. They sped down the road, hoping to find a hospital in time to save her life. Tears welled up in his eyes and has he struggled to hold it back, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, there was blood all over and the people around him held him, he tried to speak but couldn't find his voice, suddenly everything went blank.

On the morning of his 17th birthday, he was discharged from the hospital with a bandage around his waist and an elbow plasters to show for the accident. He walked into the sunlight with a limp and everybody seems to look at him with pity as he made his way out into the open compound of the hospital. The story had already made the rounds, he was the victim that was avenged by the gods but nobody was certain of what was avenged. He saw his buggy parked behind the open gate of the hospital, he remembered her and turned back into the reception to find out what became of her.

"I am Adaeze and I am writing this from a wheelchair. I was crippled, left with a boulder shaped head and I am gradually losing my ability to speak as the years goes by all as a result of an accident that was orchestrated by me. Abu was in SS3 at that time and he was always helping us with water whenever water supply was off which was almost everytime. I drugged him and with four of my girls, we raped him and left him on the floor of the kitchen to make it look like he slept off after eating the food I gave him. I was a pharmaceutical student and I was sure the drugs wouldn't kill him although the rape could have. If he'd died, there wasn't going to be a post so I felt confident we will go scot-free but we didn't. After my confession; post the incident, the girls were expelled and before they could be arrested, the fled the hostel and I never saw them again. I've seen Abu just once since then and that was on his 17th birthday, two days after the whole event. He was allowed into ICU to see me on his request and the only thing he said was "I was a virgin" with tears in his eyes... and those words had left a hole in me, giving me much more pain than any injury or death could afford.

I've been a counsellor on wheels for rapist and rape victims for years since the incident and I will continue until I can't produce any sound again. It's been 15 years now and my appearance and experience alone as helped a lot of rapist reform, I hope my words will help rekindle the lamp of humanity in others so that together we can all #SayNoToRape"

**This campaign is a Bloggersville initiative towards curbing rape, abuse, molestation and other sexually driven related assaults**

I am Abidemi Babaolowo Oderinlo
I read what I need, I write what I like and act what I write.
I tweet from @enyola

Sunday, March 30, 2014


If GEJ is a building contractor elected by Nigerians and he employs labourers with an average age of 70 to do the job while 80% of the youth in the population are not breaking a sweat, then something needs to be changed. If the ongoing National Conference (NC) was initiated towards redefining Nigeria and building her walls to make her a better country for her people, and the average age of the delegation is 61, while Nigeria as a nation is over 75% youths with and “one third of her population is young people between the ages of 10 to 24 years” according to UNFPA in 2011, then the national conference is not for the future but for the past because the future is not represented. All the members need to be sacked because they are not fit enough or in any physical or mental position to redefine or rebuild or define the path to repositioning Nigeria. They are too old, too weak and too tired to produce any true resolution or referendum that will change the lots of Nigeria or liberate her from "The Wolves of Niger Area" aka Corruption.

A few days ago, I read that the ongoing National "Sleepers" Conference and jamboree under the Order 13(3) of its draft Rules of Procedure, indicates that the final report of the Retirees Conference is expected to be submitted to President Goodluck Jonathan. Delegates present argued that they have wide-reaching powers and could even amend the Constitution or draft a new one entirely. Some delegates even kicked against any move to subject the report of the Conference to the scrutiny of the National Assembly, arguing that the legislature has always killed previous reports, making sane references and facts.  A delegate Olaniwun Ajayi said

“If by any mistake, the decision of the Conference is sent to the National Assembly, it will end just like others. The problems we have been facing for 54 years will not be solved. We will be on the wrong side of history by submitting our report to the National Assembly (NASS). We should send to the people of Nigeria through a referendum and say, we the people.”

And with this he called for the amendment of Order 13(3) to empower the Conference to send its report to Nigerians to take a decision on it through a referendum.

A few of our former "Yes Men" (Click the "Yes Men" to find out who they are) like Ken Nnamani argued for the status quo. He referred to our failed constitution and his lame ex-colleagues in the NASS as the superintendent law custodian even though he admitted that the elections that placed them in the offices to torment the citizens were flawed and delivered in irregularities.

Hassan Rilwan drew attention to Order 13 (2) that said the final report must be passed by delegates before it is signed by the Conference leadership and he further argued that youths have been marginalised, he called that they should be given opportunity to address issues on the floor. He buttressed his point by saying

“Most of those who are here caused some of the problems we are facing today…”

And  soon as he sat down, the conference continued with the unrepentant, dirty, sleeping, old cankerworms overseeing the conference (in dream land off course) agreeing that the report goes to the president.

How on earth does GEJ expect people that got it wrong out of greed in their youth to stand up to correct their wrong when they are already tired, old and sleepy, and still demanding respect for failing, living without anything worth living for, hoping that what they have stolen from Nigeria will keep their children rich forever be expected to deliver a worthy document? But never say never! Old men pray better and with the death of Hamma Missau, our referendum is already being given a celestial ratification in the heavens.

I shrink every time I hear the argument that the constitution must be followed, that the law of the land must be respected, yes it is true but that should be said only when the law is in the interest of the people and not some people. A law that convicts a man for murder on investigative assumption but allows a governor, whose convoy kills an activist to ride free on the ground of immunity, jails a man for allegedly stealing 10k but discharges a criminal like "Ibori" and grants a pension thief in billions a bail of 100k. Allow a minister that can't account for $43Bn fly a private jet on the country's purse, and maintains a Presidential Special Adviser “Reno Mockery” guilty of a felony in an exalted office with benefits. That constitution should be thrown in the trash. The law of the land as failed "We the people" a million times, why should failure still be held as the guiding principle on a journey towards rescuing Nigeria from the claws of this decay we daily decry? I think our resolve should not be sitting to watch things go wrong, but we must be patient, lest we break the pot that should hold our flower.

The rule of law should be honoured and respected but should never be a "blank cache" situation. In Nigeria, it has so far only brought pain on the citizens and I think for once the people should be allowed to choose where they want to go. The 1999 constitution was not constituted by the people let alone young people, it was crafted by the military for the people and it has only left a big hole in our pockets and life as a nation. This constitution being stoutly guided by this NASS as failed to protect the people, curb corruption or punish corrupt leaders, build Nigeria or maintain her sanity, the only thing it as succeeded in doing is ensuring that looters and killers are recycled every year, leaving the real generation of Nigerians that should be in the driving sit not even on the back sit, but at the bus-stop, waiting for a bus that might never arrive. I think this is an opportunity for the people to get on the bus at least, maybe this time, we will get the chance to guide the drivers to destination Nigeria.

Since we can’t stop the National Conference, in my OPINION, the confab should present a report that calls for a referendum, allowing the people to have an input in the direction or course their lives should take. A constitution that does not represent my interest should not be forced down my throat when it can be reviewed or even sacked for a new one. In every sane society, the constitution was instituted by the people's true representative, ours was instituted by the military and has been managed for years by retired military men and party representatives that are only representing the interest of a group of people with their name starting, braced or ending with a "P" and thus they've only been able to feed our lives with Problems and not Peace as we desire, if there is a chance to change this, then we must take the chance.


Maysoon Zayid: I got 99 problems... palsy is just one!

I met Maysoon on the internet via TED and she just gave me a new meaning to living. I learnt strength in Zara Gretti #RIP, I have found the new meaning of determination in yet another woman all through the internet. Watch and be faced with the reality that YOU CAN.