As an African girl, growing up in a very beautiful rural area, I had hopes, dreams and aspirations. I was young , happy and care free, a ‘mills and Boon’ addict, my head was away with the fairies.
All I wanted was to meet a knight in shining amour, the stuff Mills and Boon’ put in your head. If you were one of the Boon era girls, then you will know what I mean, and know how you feel when you wake up to the real world, see and experience reality.
That I would one day becomes a domestic violence survivor was never
in that dream. That I would be battered over and over to the point I attempted to commit suicide was never ever in my dream.
The only constant thing in life is change. Life paths are so interlocking that if you don’t mark the ropes in different colours, you are very likely to inter weave them wrongly thereby heading on a wrong path.
Some path you go on because of your age, experience and total ignorance. some nature just throws at you, you only find yourself drifting along these paths, how you got there you will never know or understand.
I was the former. My path took me to this place where I had no understanding, no knowledge, no warnings, no nothing, just me alone in this place and situation that I knew with every young fibre in my body was wrong, very wrong.
How I started on this path I know not, were it took me to was where I I never thought or imagined. I spent years trying to make sense of this path. This path was a narrow and harrowing one that had just me and the other person, the abuser. Maybe there were other people, I don’t know as no one spoke or acknowledged my presence.
They heard my regular screams, my cry for help, the countless time I begged for my life, they were there, only they were like shadows on the path. It was a nightmare I almost did not wake up from.
Maybe if I had knowledge or information about this narrow harrowing path, just maybe I would have changed to another path, but alas I did not, I did not even know the name of this path. How do you ask for help when you don’t know who or how to ask, above all you don’t have a name for what you are asking help for.
I looked close and far, hoping to find or see something which will help make meaning but found nothing. Many a time I went about with various degree of bloodied and battered body parts, some looked at me with pity in their eyes, some just kept their distance but most just did not care. I was alone in this lonely yet busy path.
The one sure thing about this path I knew from the deepest of my mind was, everything about this path was wrong, very and totally wrong.
It was not a ‘Mills &Boon’ path, It was a hell path, a hell path that so damaged me, it’s taken me years to find me. Thankful this path did not swallow me, I found my way out, but what about those who could not, so many have being lost on this path, so many are presently trapped.
Confused, ignorant,helpless, handicapped and void of choice, this are few of the reason why so many are trapped on this path.
I often wandered maybe this person had the right, not just hitting me but beating me until am bloodied all over, curled up in a foetal position, begging for him to stop. How I survived it all remains a mystery to me.
Now all I want to do is to dedicate my life to fighting this pandemic called ‘DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE.’
Yes I eventually found the name. Domestic violence it is and so many are walking this path right now.
I left the path eventually but with a story yet untold. Yes I found my way out but for a very long time I was still lost and confused. I got very angry through the time I was healing, finding me, I asked a million questions, still do some times, but no, no more anger, just pity for this individual, because a person really have to be sick to subject another person to what I went through and what others are going through right now and to those that survived and to those that died on this path, we will echo your voices from the grave, we will scream out…NO MORE!!…STOP!!!