She had been so engrossed in her thoughts she hadn’t seen him walk from behind her until he was right next to her. She was about to scream in panic before his hand covered her mouth with so much force she was sure her lips would bruise. In one swift move, he had tripped and dropped her to the dusty ground, all the while keeping his hand on her mouth.
He was breathing heavily, and with the little space afforded her nostrils, Mbali caught a whiff of cheap alcohol and maybe cigarettes on his breath. She was beside herself with fear and as he pinned her down. She was forced to look at his face. He looked to be in his 30s, had a prominent scar, presumably from a botched cleft-lip operation, and was very strong. At least it felt that way as he sat on her midriff, driving out the air from her.
She tried to break free but he was just too strong for her. At 18, she was a bit on the slender side and her love for athletics had kept her trim. She felt him shift and and pull out something from his pocket. He waved a small knife in her face as he motioned her to keep quiet or else. He let go of her mouth.
“I will be done in a flash and if you don’t make it difficult, you will soon be home,” he had said, in a breathless whisper. Mbali was horrified, she felt warm tears on her cheeks as the man tore her dress and forcefully pulled down her undergarments.
The following minutes were a blur. All she remembered later was getting up after he had left, experiencing the most excruciating pain she had ever felt. She picked up her backpack and slowly walked home. The pain in her privates was unbearable yet she willed herself to keep walking in case he returned.
She was sobbing as her mind raced, and she decided she wouldn’t tell her mom of the rape. Her mother had suffered from depression since Mbali’s dad had died two years back and Mbali didn’t want to push her over the edge with what had happened. After what seemed like eternity she got home and went straight to the bathroom. She kept crying as she took a long shower. She felt so dirty and, no matter how long she scrubbed herself, she knew her ordeal would not go away any time soon, not in her mind at least…
That had been six years ago. I still don’t know how I have suppressed that ordeal and carried on, Mbali thought, as she pressed the remote to open the gate to her apartment building. In the intervening years since her rape she had made quite a success of her life. She had passed her matric despite the constant flashbacks to that violent attack, had completed her nursing qualification, and was now employed.
She opened her door and went inside. After a quick bath she changed into her favourite track pants and T-shirt.
Her mind went back to that ordeal. She had not reported her rape and, much as she hated herself for it, she consoled herself that she had done it for her mom. With time, her mother had become happy again and seemed to have turned a corner in her battle with depression. She wasn’t prone to the mood swings that had been the norm in the past and their bond had never been stronger.
The one aspect of Mbali’s life that had suffered had been on the romantic front. She had always struggled with her feelings when men approached her. It always brought her back to the rape, and the counselling sessions a year previously seemed not to have worked.
***
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