It's My Story

Birthing Purpose From A Past Pain

…a story of healing from child abuse

Would you respond differently if you were told that the pain or hurt you suffered would be the birth of your glory and purpose in life? No one wants to suffer pain especially the kind that affects your entire existence; pain such as sexual abuse, especially as a child.

Since we are not in control of certain experiences of our lives, we must understand that there has to be a purpose for them.  It was painful but now rewarding to accept that the pain I suffered for the greater part of my life is now something helpful to me and others.  My prayer is that you come to realize this truth, stop hating yourself and others for whatever wrongs were done to you, and allow God to show you how that ugly experience was for a purpose.  For everything you have suffered, if you are still alive today, God has a need for it!

I was in primary 5 when it happened.  He was our neighbour.  That day he asked me to help him buy cigarettes.  I did innocently, and with the joy of having carried out the demand of a senior as children are taught to obey elders.  Unknown to me, he had gone inside his house so that when I returned and called out to inform him that I had bought it, he asked me to come in.  It was a flat apartment, he stayed with two of his sisters.  Both sisters were away at the time.  I entered still ignorant of what was to disrupt a key part of my growing.  After he collected the cigarette he engaged me with some questions about school.  I answered with excitement.  Then he moved to ask me about my leg.  I suffered polio as a child and it affected my right leg.  It makes me walk as though limping.  As a child, growing up with such a physical challenge had negative effects on me and created some sense of inferiority within me.

When he touched that sensitive part of me I became sober and he moved towards me knowing that I was vulnerable and made to massage that leg. I let him because I thought he was just being nice.  If I had the slightest knowledge of what that touch meant I would have left but I was already weakened by the talk about my leg.  As he massaged my leg he was calming me down and saying very kind words like you will be alright, you are still a fine girl…he got up at some point as he was talking and pulled his trousers down.  I looked at him in dismay and he said I must not shout. I looked around the house hoping someone else was around.  He knew what was on my mind and quickly added that if I shouted he would hurt me.  And if anything happened to me what was I to tell my family?  Fear gripped me further and I pleaded with him to simply let me go.  He wouldn’t listen, instead, he carried me into his room despite the tears in my eyes.  He softly told me it wasn’t going to be painful.  My eyes were filled with tears but I could see him applying Vaseline on his penis.  It was a gory sight to behold because even now I refuse to recall or imagine how an adult-sized member could penetrate a child, but he did.  When he had had his fill, he got up and told me that if anyone notices the bloodstain or my difficulty walking, I should tell them I fell and a sharp object pierced me.  He made sure I stopped crying before he let me go that day.  Certain events in my life then made me know that I had myself to console because no one cared as such. I tried my best to act normal and continue with my life.  I became judgmental about myself and in school couldn’t play when other kids did because I started feeling different in a bad way.  I wondered in my mind if the other children have had my experience and if they did why were they so happy and free?

Fear and resentment consumed me and I began slipping into myself.  Whenever I saw my abuser, I avoided him and wouldn’t even greet him.  One day he called me and asked why I was avoiding him.  When I wouldn’t speak he threatened to tell my uncle about the event of that day, that he knows I didn’t tell anyone.  I ignored him. 

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