Talk with Yommy- A TRUE-LIFE rape story of Rachael Bature.

I am eager to see people swiveling their pain into power. I wrote an article on rape not long ago and I decided to do a series, writing TRUE-LIFE rape stories of great women who have turned their pain into powers.  Your pain will become your power – Yommy Ayilara.

This is the story of RACHAEL BATURE – “ I did not settle for pain, I spoke up”

In Rachael's Words…

I was around 6/7 years old. We used to live in a compound house and there was this uncle that lived around. He was so friendly that we used to go to his house and he used to send us on errands.
One day, I came by from school and I was going to have my bath, I tied my towel around my chest and went to fetch water. As I was passing, he called me. I was innocent and I answered him immediately. I went into his room and he locked the door behind me. HE HAD SEX WITH ME. He told me not to speak up. He scared me that if I did he would kill me. I believed him because I was young and scared. At that age, I didn’t really understand what just happened or what he did to me. I was in primary one.

When I got to primary four , a visitor came to our house to spend the night and that was when the memories of what happened to me years ago came back.  That night when I was asleep, I felt someone’s hands and I opened my eyes. I didn’t fully understand what was happening. He was supposed to spend a night but he did not. The next day, the same thing repeated itself. On the third day, I felt a hand on my body as I was asleep, this time I could understand, and with so much fear I clicked and figured that this was the ‘rape’ I have been haring about. I couldn’t hold it anymore, I got up and I cried all night. It was that experience that reminded me of the first time, I was just a kid then, I could not really paint the full picture, but as I replayed the scenes of my first experience, I became so scared, I felt the trauma and I felt the pain. For days, I became withdrawn, I couldn’t express myself well, I was quiet and wasn’t at peace with myself.

My brother noticed my silence and withdrawal and I spoke to him. He told my mom about it and my mom eventually sent the man away.

Remember the first rapist?

Yes, he still stayed in my compound. He got scared at some point and he made me promise not to tell anyone. Then, I was told in church that “A promise is a debt” and as a kid that I was, I felt I was indebted to him. So I kept my promise.

Let’s leap a little…

I was in Jss1/Jss2. I was relaxing in my room, not fully asleep. An extended family member came in and took advantage of my sleep and innocence. I was disgusted and devastated. I felt very unsafe experiencing this from a family member.

This experience brought back memories and broke me. – “I became scared of men”

LET ME TELL YOU A STORY ABOUT MY EXPERIENCE IN A RELATIONSHIP.

“My ex broke up with me after I spoke my truth”
I was in a relationship with this guy. For a while, I didn’t tell him about my experience even though he asked me if I had anything to say. Finally, I decided to tell him. He was the first person I told and this truth changed everything. My “so-called” perfect relationship became a den. He claimed not to be angry about my experience but about the fact that I didn’t tell him about it.

Whatttt?! People need to understand that it is not easy to talk about rape. Not that I believe that was reason he broke up with me, but I’m just chipping that in.

Sometimes, when I hear about rape stories, the pain of my experience comes back. There are some things that still triggers me. There are some things I hear that pisses me off.

The trauma I faced, At a point, I didn’t want people touching me at all. I found satisfaction in watching pornography and I know it wasn’t my fault.

It took me time and the Grace of God but I TOOK POWER and CONTROL!

I cannot quantify how much speaking up helped me. The first time I decided to share my story was in May 2019 after the drama that happened with my ex. I shared my experience and that was when my change began.  I felt safe. I felt strong.

I know that because of the rejection I faced after speaking up for the first time to my ex was a terrible experience. A lot of people have felt that pain. One moment you think you have found someone to talk to, just for the person to switch up on you and reject you for something that is absolutely not your fault.

I am here to tell you – IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT, Never take the blame.

I felt strong after talking about my experience. A number of people turned my pain into power. I got to know a lot of people that have experienced rape. I got help from people and I became a source or help to other victim. That is how it works. It is a circle and we help one other. That is why you need to speak up.  I am 22 years old by the way!

“I AM STILL GOING THROUGH THERAPY “ – you cannot do it alone, there are people to help you.
Yes, I still need help. I still react to people touching me. I still take offence unnecessarily. Compliments trigger me. But I am a fighter! I know it! I can feel it!

Let me tell you something-

YOU CANNOT CHANGE WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU, BUT, YOU CAN CHANGE WHAT BECOMES OF YOU AFTER YOUR EXPERIENCE.

If someone blamed you, ignore it (I know it’s not easy). Please, get help. Talk to people.

If you cannot afford therapy or even if you can and you just want to talk,  send me a mail – baturerachael77@gmail.com

Love, RACHAEL.

#END

Your pain will become your power, I love you , Text me -  Yommy Ayilara.

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HURT ME, RAPE ME, BLAME ME!



Circumstances around me and a slight strain of stagnation.  A level of belief brought side by side with fault directed to one for a crime of another. If tears drop down my eyes, am I the reason I cry? It is highly dependent on me, a form of disrespect to who I am.

I walked down a little farther on the streets of my house. I walked smart, heads up because I was told I could only be respected that way. I made a straight face, ready to speak for myself. I had a stone in my hands, ready to attack. I lived my life in fear. Every step I took on that street was taken in fear. Fear of being attacked by imaginary men, ready to prey.  I kept on walking, little by little. I started to feel peace in my heart. Maybe, they were exaggerating after all. There is nobody looking at me. I am all alone here, they said those things to scare me… I was thinking and smiling a little. But – then, it happened…

I was attacked, ripped, and hurt. I was hurt, raped, and told to get up and walk. Of course, I walked, with no complaints. I walked with so much pain. I was in discomfort but I walked fast and furiously. I was ready to fight! I got home and told my people. It took me time to compose myself and explain my plight. I was ready to fight with them by my side! To fight against what I felt. But -then, it happened…
Like a flash, everything changed. I found myself answering questions about why I was raped. I was broken.  How do I explain the reason I was ripped and broken, never to be one again. How do I explain that I did nothing wrong? My only offense was being a woman. With tears in my eyes, I saw friends and people turn their back against me. Talking about the shirt I wore and the hair I made. Talking about the make up I had on and the fragrance they came from my body. “you should not have looked that good!”, they said. IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT.

The blame- A consistent crime and nobody was ready to hear my cry. Oh, they heard me cry, after all, they were just not ready to help me out. How can a person be abused and molested and blamed for it? What is there to be happy about when the right of another is trampled upon. Why does it hurt a group of people that human beings want to speak up for themselves? Is it a crime to be an existing female figure.

Why is my body sexualized? They have the right to expose their skin but I do not. Because I am seen as a sex object, degraded and made to accept that my only value is sex. How do I not express myself? I kit up and slay up and fight to earn respect. I do not get it naturally, I earn it. If I cannot earn it then I am not worth it. What an eyesore this is.

How well do you understand? How can you spit out words, telling me to call down? Do you know how it feels? How it feels to be told to live your life for someone else right from the day you could hear words. Do you feel what I feel? The feeling of betrayal by the people instructed to love you.

I have questions, still unanswered. Nobody could give me valid reasons. All I could hold on to was – “because you are a woman”. This broke me. It hurt me, but they blamed me.

Then, I looked around and saw thousands of people like me. Women who were abused and blamed for it. People who have decided to take their existence as a crime. Who have hated themselves day by day wishing they had come in the opposite sex.

Wishes that can never come through.
I would, however, leave words today.
“Your dreams are meant to scare you. You are a woman with dreams and they are scared of you. They know that you are fuel and with little fire, you will explode. I know you can explode. You were born to explode. – and all these abuse and disrespect you faced or might be facing is for a reason. And the only reason is to replace your fuel with water- but you won’t let them, because you are a fighter. You won’t sit there and let them take advantage of you. Not anymore. You will rise and show the world that they tried but you are stronger. You would be a figure that shows the transformation of pain to power. You will rise and be a voice to the voiceless. You are strong! And I admire you!

“Your pain will become your power, trust me”.

-Yommy Ayilara