"I was raped by my father"

| Friday September 3, 2010 00:00

He came to me in the middle of the night while I was sleeping in the company of my brothers and sisters. He called me aside and said 'There is something that you and I must do to protect our family against witches, just you and I, because you are my first born child'.

I listened and he continued to explain the procedures. 'It has to happen at midnight, I will wake you up at 12 on the dot and you have to follow me quietly into the sitting room.'

He was indeed true to his words. He came to wake me up, and I did as he said, little realising what this thing was all about. When I got to the sitting room, he told me to undress, pinned me to the floor and tightly covered my mouth. He had sex with me. I wanted to scream but his big hand sat tight on my mouth. I was puzzled and confused. After the act he said, 'If ever you tell anybody about this I will kill you'. This was my father, my real father, my own flesh and blood.

I later told my mother about this incident but, when she asked him, he denied ever having done this to me. When she continued to question him he beat her in my presence. 'Your daughter is only making excuses,' he would say. 'It is all about wanting to sleep with boys. She is dreaming', he defended himself, with force and hostility.

Time came for me to go for Tirelo Sechaba (national service) and I was posted to Dikwididi not far from where my family lived. This man would take private transport almost every night to come to Dikwididi and have sex with me almost every night. I had to tell someone, and so I told one of my girlfriends.

She was a lucky girl, very outgoing, a party girl and I envied her because such dreadful things were not happening to her. She quickly thought of a plan. 'Sesame let's go partying tonight so that when he comes tonight he finds the blankets only. Let's plan to return in the early hours of the morning.' We did exactly that. I arrived on my doorstep around three o'clock in the morning and opened the door. Guess what I found!. My father was sleeping on my bed waiting for me. He beat me so hard that by the time he stopped I was bleeding and one eye was red and badly swollen. I suppose he beat me because he had missed one of his sex sessions and it made him very angry.

This situation was getting very serious. I had to do something. I went out, pretended to go to the toilet and went straight to my Tirelo Sechaba field officer. I related the story to her from beginning to end. She had to make a decision. Whether it was the right one or not I didn't care. All I wanted was for her to at least do something. 'Sesame I think you should go home and discuss this issue with your parents and relatives. It is a very serious issue,' she advised. I agreed and went home with her.

When we got home my paternal aunt was called and I related my story in the presence of my father. He admitted punishing me for 'sleeping out' that night but denied the numerous sex acts. In the meantime while these fruitless discussions were going on, my field officer reported the case to the police.

My father was called in for questioning. This time he admitted that he did have sex with me and that he was very sorry. 'Being sorry is not enough!' the police said. 'This is a serious case which will go on record and eventually land in court.' He was, however, not remanded in custody. He was back in my life again. One day he picked me up from Dikwididi under the pretext that we were going to discuss the problem further with my mother.

At last he is showing some remorse, I thought later. But I found that this was wishful thinking. While we were standing by the roadside waiting for lifts, he said I should come with him to his friend's place to collect something. I followed him and we walked through a bushy area. He suddenly stopped and got hold of me.

He got out a rope and started strangling me. I struggled very hard but he overpowered me. I lay there bruised and unconscious. I woke up only to see him still hovering over me. I cannot remember the whole ordeal. 'Whether he had sex with me that day, or not, I cannot remember. Whether or not he thought he had killed me, I do not know.  Why he was still hovering over me when I gained consciousness I cannot tell. Why he did not decide to finish me off is still a mystery to me.

He could have done it. He had a big chance. However, we went home as it was planned initially. To this day I have never understood why I followed him like that.

Nothing was ever discussed. Instead, I was kept under 'house arrest'and given medication to cure my wounds. Nobody was to know about this e ne ele phitlhela (most guarded secret). My Tirelo Sechaba officer kept calling, and my parents kept giving excuses about my delayed return to work. The field officer was getting suspicious, so she went back to the police to report my absence from work and to reopen the case. After a long struggle trying to find my father, the police finally arrested him. He was put in jail to await trial. I was sent to the Women's Shelter for protection. The trial never took place because after a few days in the cell, he committed suicide.I attended the funeral.

I had to because he was my father. I had been through counseling sessions and forgiven my father for what he had done. God forgives us for our sins and I thought I had to forgive him too. However, I will not forget. The scars on my neck and in my mind are still there. The atmosphere at the funeral was very tense.

My mother's relatives were soft and warm towards me but my father's relatives were very angry. They did not speak to me and they still don't speak to me.My mother is an angry woman, who blames me for the death of her husband. She is always in a bad mood. She is forever insulting me. At times she calms down. I do not understand her behavior. I live with her and I cannot leave her. I feel that she herself is helpless but I do not know what to do or how to help her.

This is because I am helpless myself. I am still emotionally upset. Sometimes I do not want to talk. I just want to cry. I feel so unclean. I have gone through the tests to check whether I have the decease (HIV/AIDS or not. Although the tests have turned out negative, it is so hard to believe that they are indeed negative. People do not understand the severity of incest until it happens to them or one of their family members. It is so hurtful to see violence happening every day - including incest. It hurts even more to see our parents sitting and not acting, but guarding this secret with their lives. I would like to conclude with two messages. One to young girls and another one to parents. This is in the hope that somebody is really listening out there.

Dear GirlsOur parents are sitting on a time bomb. When it explodes our future will be destroyed. As long as they sit on these problems, we are going to lose our lives. Please take advantage of the help at your disposal and act quickly.

Dear ParentsRemember we are the future generation. We are the future leaders of this country. If you don't wake up to, and eradicate this violence, the future of this country is sure to go into the hands of foreigners.My father raped me and the physical scars and emotional scars still remain. Incest is a disease and will not stop until the government takes serious steps to stop it. It is on the increase. It has nothing to do with culture as people say. It is disgusting behavior and needs to be stamped out.

Adapted from Stories of Courage told by women through Women Shelter Project 2000