Should Fighting Back to Avoid Rape Equal Death Sentence?

(Photo Credit: www.hurriyetdailynews.com)

20-year-old, Aslan was found burnt in a riverbed in the city of Mersin in Turkey. The psychology student was kidnapped on her way home on Wednesday and the driver attempted to rape her. She reportedly fought him off with pepper spray, but was then stabbed to death and also hit on the head with an iron pipe and that was how Aslan died -- not for probably committing an offence against anyone, but for simply saying no.

We are in a society where people, predominantly women have become prey and can be consumed by these predators anytime, anyday, anywhere. People need to understand that there is need for consent always.

"Yes, let's do this".

"No, let's not do this".

It's very necessary. One can only hope that people would grow to understand the necessity of consent. I'm tempted to ask "Do you enjoy sex when all you hear is screaming and wailing from the other party?" I don't want to think of this. Let's be more human.

Let's respect other people.

Consent is key always. This cannot be overemphasized.

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We join the women of Istanbul who have held protests so far to express their anger to take a stand to end rape.

Enough is enough. This violence should stop. Let's be more aware and sensitive towards the yearnings of other people.

Join the movement today. Take a stand to end rape.

Raped TWICE! First by a Perpetrator, Second by a Doctor. Zainab Brown (@AdunniBrown) Speaks

(Photo credit: The ViewsPaper)

The second rape I’m referring to in my title is not literal assault by a ‘doctor’ but more so an emotional and mental assault of a sexual assault survivor seeking help from doctors, lawyers and other systems providers. And most times, their friends, families and community members.

Sexual assault is perhaps the only crime in which its victims are victimized first by their attackers and second by legal, medical, and mental health systems (i.e. lawyers, psychologists and nurses) and even members of their communities. This secondary victimization or even “second rape” prohibits survivors of rape1 from thoroughly recovering and in addition perpetuate the idea that a rape survivor, male or female (although statistics show that women are succumbed to rape more than men), is to blame rather than the attacker. Campbell and Raja (1999)2 define secondary victimization as behaviors and attitudes of social service providers that are "victim-blaming" and insensitive, and which traumatize victims of violence who are being served by legal, medical, and mental health systems. This “second rape” by those meant to support survivors, in turn trivializes the crime and results in apathetic and discriminating attitudes towards sexual assault survivors.

Shame: Poem by Tosin Adeshokan (@theOluwatosin)

SHAME


The child heavy with child.
Spited by her mates,
Shallow bastards that wouldn’t know any better.
Disgraced by the community,
Shamed by her family.
She won’t find the cure to cancer.
That future is now erased.
All she would ever be would be street fights and failed marriages.
Drugs and suicide attempts.
One day she gets lucky and kills herself,
Trying to drown the Indian movie of sadness her life has become.


But do not shame Shade
No No No! Don’t even dare!


Shame her father for being a pig!
It’s not his fault he can’t respect women!
Just like his father before him, he is a violent abusive drunk!


Shame her mother for not standing against hell she called marriage.
A fractured nose here, a non-operational black eye there.
Settling for someone beneath her because society says ‘A woman is a failure if she isn’t married’.

Donation to #Give2STER by Ebiokpo Botei: Embracing and Appreciating Womanhood

                            

If bravery had a face it will be her. She is not the tallest of women folk, small in stature but presence so strong it is difficult to ignore. She is of African descent and prides herself in the pursuit of liberation and justice for women emancipation. She is D’bi young Anitafrika.

A Jamaican born and Toronto based storyteller and playwright, she effortlessly identifies with language and racial difference while addressing the focus of her work; female liberation.

There are a number of individuals advocating change on behalf of women, but this lady goes about hers in the most novel and unique of ways: storytelling. Passionate in her performance, emotional in her thoughts, artistic in her formulation and carriage, she weaves in detail and reality in the fine twines of art to project from an entertaining perspective, what we ought to be educated about. Anyone could have done same. Really? Anyone can capture an audience that cuts across different races with spoken words that go to the deep of the soul while, occupying the stage with the most unconventional stage performance costume? Not that many. I heard her mutter words in a Nigerian language, I thought was Yoruba. Indeed, it was Yoruba. Truth is, in difference and uniqueness she has not only addressed but enlightened as many that cared to listen, and as far as her conspicuous outfits go, those who couldn’t care less where drawn to listen. Child abuse, rape, chastisement for being HIV positive- All these are love songs she likes to sing and her choruses echoed on every stage she stood. Did I mention she has been on quite few? Yes she has.

                                          Why does she speak?

The little girl in the farms of the suburbs whose mum had no idea ‘Uncle’ Mark was taking advantage of, Laura in secondary school who as safe as she tried to live, fell victim to HIV and has been despised even by those she called family and friends and Lebo who was scarred as a result of rape just because someone thought it an effective war tool, who speaks for them? (Watch a video HERE).

Broken Wings by Ejura Salihu (@FleshyYetty)

Broken wings

I was free like a bird

I spread my wings and flew

Young and fresh like the morning dew

Innocent and in love

I had no fear

You were the one I held dear

You used to be my knight

Holding me tight through stormy nights

The world was mine to take

The dawn for me was breaking

I felt like your priceless princess 

Nothing could go wrong 

So I thought

The betrayal was swift and painful 

That cold night, you held me 

Kissed me

Promised me forever

Then held me closer

Soon your hand moved up my skirt

I asked you to stop

Told you I did not want to go that far

You said I did not mean it and mocked me

You forcefully had your way

Leaving me with broken wings

#Give2STER Press Release.

For Immediate Release

September 16, 2014
The #Give2STER Campaign promotes an end to sexual violence and abuse.

Stand to End Rape (S.T.E.R) Initiative works to end all forms of rape through education, supporting victims of rape and changing community perceptions towards sexual violence and abuse. S.T.E.R provides awareness seminars, sexual violence and abuse education, peer mentoring, therapy and promotes sexual and reproductive rights.

The “#Give2STER” campaign is an opportunity for everyone to say no to sexual violence and abuse in our communities, and take a pledge to support the campaign. The campaign is aimed at starting a free self-defense class for children and young adults, visit schools to distribute preventive materials on sexual violence and also to have a rape intervention centre in Lagos (and across Nigeria).

Throughout the coming weeks, S.T.E.R will be sharing information on how you can do your part to promote the campaign.

Follow STER’s Twitter handle: @standtoendrape for campaign updates, ways to donate and opportunities to join the campaign.

The #Give2STER campaign, which is STER's first official fundraiser starts today and culminates on October 4th by 8 p.m.

You can donate to STER’s bank account:

Account Name: Stand To End Rape Initiative

Account Number: 0157148304 (Cooperate Account).

Bank: GTBank

You can also visit http://standtoendrape.org/ or call +2348095967000 for more information, updates on the campaign and ways you can participate on October 4th!

-End of release-

Oral Rape and Its Survival

Many have no clue that oral rape exists. In the experiences shared below, we hope to enlighten you on oral rape and forms in which it occurs.

Oral Rape: Giving

Jackie's Story: One of the most challenging aspects of my rape was being forced to perform oral sex on my rapist. Unlike vaginal rape, it can be difficult coming to terms with feeling like an active participant in the abuse. While we know we didn’t want it, we still see ourselves doing it, even though it wasn’t a consensual act. This participation brings on a level of shame that can often feel unbearable.

The challenge in healing stems from a variety of issues. First, there is general embarrassment that comes from discussing oral sex. It is often the topic of many jokes, but it is not typically a conversation for “polite” company. This made discussing it very difficult and compounded the shame I felt.

Another issue is the misconception of how one can be forced to perform oral sex. While I was fortunate to have an incredible support system, they sometimes seemed to require an explanation as to how this could occur, which just exacerbated my shame. Although others may not be able to understand, it is of course possible to be forced to perform oral sex.

I needed to maintain the control that was taken during the oral rape and I found myself feeling very guarded about what I put in my mouth. In addition to the more obvious healing issues, there are also triggers that arise from eating certain foods that are phallic such as a bananas, ice cream or lollipops. At times, daily routines such as brushing my teeth can bring back memories or cause feelings of discomfort. Trips to the dentist also became a struggle.

Being able to connect with other survivors has been a great benefit. I no longer feel alone in my pain which is something that has helped the shame subside greatly. I now realize that there is no such thing as participation in rape. By definition, our choice was removed.

The Civil Society and the War against Domestic Violence by Bunmi Olaniyan

Within the last couple of weeks a lot of occurrences from the mundane to patently mind blowing has been scrolling across our collective, from continued Bringbackourgirls hash tag campaign for the Chibok girls to be rescued by Government to the comedy of the absurd playing out amongst our morally fractured political class.

Presently the 30percentornothing hash tag campaign is trending with a wide and varied series of emotional response. Some irritated others angry, while some offered whole hearted support and enthusiasm and those in between..

However apart from the frustration and anger at the perceived complacency of Government as regards a whole raft of issues, none of the news has caused as much angst and exasperation as the tweets bordering on an incident of domestic violence I read about barely few minutes ago. Since information about this particular issue is just unfolding hence we are not privy to the facts surrounding it this piece will suffice with one of equal impact hence assessment.

A couple of months ago, the flamboyant ex lawmaker Dino Melaye's partner packed out of his house due to her inability to withstand Dino's regular violence upon her person.

Was it My Fault? Self-Blame and Survivors

Was it my fault?

This is one common question. It should really come as no surprise that survivors blame themselves; it seems that society only takes rape seriously when the victim was violently overtaken by a stranger jumping out of the bushes. For most of us, our rapists were wolves in sheep’s clothing. They were our dates, our friends, our teachers, our cousins or fathers or mothers or husbands.

In Nigeria as we all know, most survivors tend to shy away from the incident and choose to keep mute. Based on findings, only 2 in 15 rape cases are reported and as little as 0.3% of the accused rapists are convicted. When the courts aren’t placing responsibility where it belongs, it becomes even harder for society to see us as victims whose actions played no role in what happened. And, therefore, it becomes even harder for us as survivors to realize that we are not to blame.

Did my choice lead to my rape?

We make hundreds of choices each day. Some are clearly good (wearing our seatbelt) and some are more neutral (eating potato chips for lunch instead of an apple). But some choices we make end up being bad only because of an intervening factor. For instance, one day last summer I parked outside instead of in a covered garage, on a day that happened to bring a huge hailstorm, and my car sustained expensive damages. "How stupid," I thought. "If only I had parked in the garage." What a bad choice I made!

Losing Your Virginity to Rape

Being raped, regardless of the circumstances, is always traumatic. Losing your virginity to rape can add an extra layer of pain to an already horrific experience. A person’s virginity can be precious to them in many ways and the impact of its loss through rape can be particularly devastating.

Loss

The losing of your virginity has always been significant within most cultures and in today’s society it has become an important rite of passage. Choosing to lose your virginity is seen as an important life event and in western society it plays a large role in many films, T.V. shows and books. If you have lost your virginity to rape then you have been cheated out of making this important choice for yourself and that is a huge loss.

Anyone who has been raped will experience a sense of loss over what happened to them. Being raped can make a person feel that they have lost a part of themselves as well as feeling a loss of control over what happened to their body. Adding the loss of your virginity to this can feel really overwhelming. The loss can be so much bigger than just physically losing your virginity. Many people hold onto their virginity with the hope that they will one day be able to give it to someone special. Some may have been keeping it for their husband or wife, while others may have been waiting for the right person to come into their lives. Whatever you were waiting for, having your virginity taken from you through rape also means that you loose this dream.

The Female Side to Rape by Ejura Salihu

Last week's letter 'Dear Aunty Timi' was a heart's cry. If you haven't read it, please read HERE. That letter pictures the pain some have been forced to endure for many years. The scar is carried all through childhood to adulthood with little chance of total healing because the world is not listening to the cries. The muffled screams from a little girl next door while her body and innocence is taken from her forcefully by someone who should protect her, goes unnoticed because everyone is too busy to care. 

Scenarios may differ but the crime remains the same with the child growing up to be an adult with sad broken memories and a stolen childhood. As Miss J narrated her ordeal, the first thing I realised was how she seemed just as frightened as a little girl again, the broken trust still rang through her words. Her only question still remains 'Why Aunty Timi?' There are so many articles, stories out there about abusive uncles, but aunties rape too. It is harder to imagine and easier than you think for it to happen to any toddler. As a parent, when you need a maid, you feel safer getting a female maid since stories of male helps abusing girls is so rampant. A relative calls informing you of a planned visit and you heave a sigh of relief that its your younger sister. Your precious little daughter should be safe right? Hmmm...sadly that is not always the case. Aunties rape too! Female helps molest young girls too and even boys (we will talk about that some other day).

Real Rape: What Nobody is Telling You

He ignored me. He betrayed me. He broke me into a million pieces. It was as if someone had cut me open, slashed deeply into each of my organs and stitched me back up again to live a nightmare-bleeding from the inside out. I didn’t know I had become a statistic for a crime that you never hear about.

We, as a society, hear the word rape and picture a woman being attacked in a dark alley by some drifter. We, as media-educated drones, envision a college co-ed going to a party and being assaulted by a gang of frat boys. We, as women, imagine some sicko holding a knife to our throats to get what he wants. Is that rape? You bet. But, all those scenarios account only a few percentage of the cases reported.

That leaves 72%* of rapes that don’t fit the stereotype. Huh? How can we not know what most rapes are like? That doesn’t make any sense. What we know as rape isn’t the majority. Why? How can it be that so many rapes committed aren’t what we know rape to be? No one wants to talk about real rape. No one wants to put it out there for discussion. No one wants to admit that our society has a large majority of rapes that are unspeakable, let alone unthinkable. Or even worse, society just doesn’t think the majority is as bad as the stereotype. If that’s the case, we’re dead wrong-every last one of us.

Dear Aunty Timi by Ejura Salihu

 It has been twenty years since the last time I saw you and it was a surprise to see you again today. However the surprise is not a pleasant one, it is one filled with anger and pain at a memory half forgotten. I remember feeling like you owed me something I could not ask for the day you left.

You came to me and asked for a hug and a kiss and I relented. Mummy rebuked me and I reluctantly obliged. I remember being angry with mum for days for that. How could she not see her precious little sister was defiling me? How could she not tell I was hurting? I did not understand why I felt like I was betraying the family by being molested by you. I felt naked, ashamed and angry.

Mummy always warned me against allowing boys to touch my wooha but she never said anything about girls or you so I was confused the first time you touched me and forced me to lick your wooha. I cried and begged and hurt when you put your finger in me but I couldn't tell mummy because I didn't know if you had a right to, you told me you had a right to, you said I was just a little girl and little girls obey orders. You lied, you betrayed me. You stayed for only a month but that short holiday changed the course of my life forever.

THE MONSTER CALLED RAPE

I guess that my difficulty in being able to write about women related themes in my writings stemmed from the fact that when I had grown to the level of self-realisation, my mother who could properly guide me through the mountainous range of knowing and appreciating the opposite sex was no more of this earth, or perhaps because I never grew with a female sibling, or even maybe, because I grew up in a conventional Nigerian family , ferociously grounded in morals, where it would amount to a taboo for a man to ever think of stooping so low to the level of a woman (Infact, God help you if Papa should as much as catch you innocently daydreaming about the opposite sex).

I had methodically embarked on a joyous voyage of Thank-God-I-Am-A-Man themed writings. A moment of introspection had awakened in me and opened my eyes to the wonders and amazing world of being a woman. A task which I will not set out here, but suffice it to say that being a woman is a very beautiful experience. That sadly seems to be on a sharp decline as evinced from the various acts of violence against women. Questions after question continually barraged my mind. What if my future wife was someone who had undergone the damaging and traumatising effects of being raped? What if I am nowhere to be found tomorrow, what will be the fate of my future daughters in a world of prejudiced values against women? What if my only sister, had she been alive, grows to become a victim of rape? Worst of all, what if I had been born a girl, who could tell, if I wouldn't have experienced such traumatic moments of being dehumanised and downgraded? As these unanswered questions kept nagging at me, I found myself invariably departing from mainstream Collins; trademark Arikor, who naturally is stone-hearted when it comes to matters concerning the opposite sex. Because whichever way you decide to look at it, the issue of rape touches us all in one way or the other. And then an inner voice told me it was time to wear the shoes of rape victims so as to feel how it pinches; it was time to lend my voice to the dastardly act of rape. This monster called rape.

Rape Goes Both Ways by Buki Otuyemi

As far-fetched as it may sound to many, men and boys do get raped too. Rape is all shades of evil and it is especially hard and traumatic on the victims. One would find it difficult to visualize how men get raped given their physical stature and strength compared to women but the fact remains that men have been disarmed in the past by women (and other men) and raped.

I recall hearing a story when I just got into the university, about how a bunch of ladies raped a randy lecturer that had been sexually harassing a younger student. Also, I have been reading about men being raped in places like South Africa, Europe, etc for many years now. Male-rape have been going on for a long time and while they are not as rampant as female-rape, the devastating trauma the victims go through are not to be trivialized.

Recently in Russia, a 27-year-old female hair-stylist knocked out a 32-year-old would-be male burglar who tried to rob her shop and then tied him up. She was skilled in martial arts and was able to knock him out and subdue him with her skills. She plied him with viagra and raped him several times for three days before releasing him.