Rape kit

Parents usually do not talk about rape to their boys when they are young. It's a no go topic. It might confuse and corrupt the young mind. We trust in their innocent age that they cant do such a barbaric deed, and pray no psycho gets advantage of them. Yet boys start their interest on girls long before they hit puberty. For some of us, this was the reason we didn't miss school. We liked it to find ourselves in the company of the pretty girls of the class. But at this young age, liking and naughtiness mixed to instigate sexist pranks on our female colleagues. For example, some minutes before the last bell, we would hide a girl's shoe so that she remains the last in the classroom looking for her shoe before she goes home. And what did we do then? Treat her as a hostage. Fondle her emerging breasts or touch her places while she cried. Sometimes we decided not to go home for lunch. This gave us time to socialize with the girls whose homes were far or just wanted to spend lunch time at school. We got busy, it was the same games. Twelve and thirteen year olds, we were not equipped with flowery words to mesmerize our female classmates. All we had was hold the girls waist or wherever and we found contentment in their resistance and complaining. Some reported us to the class teacher, but no serious punishment was given to us. Just five canes on the hand or buttocks.

Maybe this is where it started. We found nothing wrong in touching a girl against her will, even if she complained and cried over and over. We thought they liked it. And others truly did. During puberty, this interest in girls grew tenfold. It is expected that our brains and reasoning should grow, and our manners too. But unfortunately some of our friends didn't. I did not find it strange when Rose was found in the back of our neighbor's house where there is a bush of banana plants, with three other guys. An adult was passing by and he heard the tussle. Rose had accepted to give her flower to Simon. But little did he know that Simon had planned with Katana and Peter that they would show up in the dark bush after some time and devour the secret buffet too. The matter blew up in our entire estate. Parents sat down to talk it over. In the end, rose was taken to her rural home to finish her studies. And the three boys, well what could they do to sixteen year old boys? They are still juveniles in the eyes of the state.

As young adults, we believed and still believe some girls like to be taken rough. Surprised. Some force spices up their world. But we never asked them first, it had to be try and error. The struggle warms up the guys adrenaline and the girls like the wild nature of it. This becomes a problem when the girl really doesn't want it. A TV feature changed my whole perception towards this aggressive seduction style. It was a girl who despite the thought of tarnishing her image in the society decided to come forward and relate her ordeal. You could see how the rape she talked about had crushed her heart despite the strength she had gathered to tell her story. My heart melted. I felt how unfair and injustice can destroy a person's spirit and her social life and life in general. It didn't feel enjoyable and manly after seeing that feature to violate a girl or any woman. I later read magazine articles about girls who came forward to relate their rape cases. The act was redefined in my conscience, it was evil. No means No finally had a meaning here after seeing the results of forced entry which in turn picture the doer a beast. Cruel, merciless, insensitive human being that can rob the honor of a woman without thinking twice. To date, any sign of unwillingness puts me off even when it comes when all pants are down.

In this context, rape can be defined as having a sexual intercourse with an unwilling partner. Funny, this happens to men too. Some women are in a position of power enough to force a man to sleep with them. Men do not suffer the same magnitude of confusion and pain as girls, but it is serious if they are not old enough.

Why do we do this to a fellow human? Cant we think about how badly this will affect the victim before doing it? We should have hearts. This is one of the most despicable and inhuman things one can do to another. And I'm here today to speak against it. Some would blame a girl for wearing clothes that are too much revealing. Or say, we lost control when our minds were fixed on gratifying ourselves. Or as the childish reason goes, “I thought she liked to be handled with force. Women hardly say it when they want to be taken rough.” I am not encouraging, but it seems a lesser evil to pay a hooker or to use a soap. Rape is uncouth.

Some years ago, we heard stories that a woman parliamentarian had introduced a rape bill that made it an offense for a husband to rape his wife. I thought she had taken it too far. There is nothing disgusting in a husband taking his wife by force. The action would never give trauma to the wife. These are people who know each other more than the common limits. From whichever angle I looked at the matter, I could not see bad rape between a husband and a wife except the legislator's intention to westernize our African beds.

On the first December Saturday in 1999, I took Brenda(True name concealed) to Mombasa Beach. We were college mates at the Mombasa polytechnic. I had requested her for a date numerous times and at last, I got this one before she traveled to her rural home in Kisii. The semester was over, and a celebration wasn't a bad idea. To the left side of the sea shore when entering the beach, there are coral rocks and caves about half a kilometer from where most people swim. Many people prefer the cave area because of privacy. In fact, on any Sunday afternoon you could count couples sitting in romantic positions here as you go further looking for a perfect empty spot. This was a Saturday morning, not so many guys were on the beach. So we strolled and jumped water traps while holding her hand. I felt lucky that this beautiful curvy girl was finally attracted to me. I showed her sea urchins and weeds that grew on the beach, and we enjoyed the company.

Deep in the rocky area, we saw three men coming to our direction. This made me uneasy, but also thought it could be nothing. We were about a kilometer away from the beach hotels. I told Brenda we had better start returning back. When the guys were near us, one grabbed Brenda's hand and I jumped to push him. I showed them my stern eyes on a somber face but they just smiled. “kaa kando dogo” One of them told me while Brenda was on my back. Hands trembling while holding my shoulders. One of them revealed an ugly piece of wood but I didn't show them I was scared . I dodged the first strike he threw but the second landed on my shoulder. My right arm was in pain now. And the other two guys had grabbed Brenda and pulled her on the nearby cave. I tried to stand up while shouting at them but another heavy blow landed on my thigh. Then another on my back. It was a strong piece of wood that caused me unimaginable pain. The other guys had already removed Brenda's blouse and jeans, but they tore her white lace because it seemed they couldn't tame their excitement any longer. One held her arms down as the other entered and defiled her. She was crying. I pitied her and wished I had extraordinary powers to save her from this animals. She was being violated while I watched. When the two guys had had their turns, one came to guard me as the third one went to satisfy himself too. I felt weak and worthless as the guys left laughing on their way up the rocks. Brenda picked up her clothes and I went and told her sorry. But she didn't reply. We walked silently to the direction of beach hotels. I suggested we stop by Nyali police station but after some minutes of pondering, she nodded to deny that suggestion. I didn't know what she was thinking. We boarded a matatu and I took her to Tudor where she had rented a room, with a roommate.

I did not go to see her off to Kisii the next day. Probably, because when I look at myself through her eyes, I see a coward. There was nothing I could do. But I hated this feeling of helplessness. I didn't know what I would say if I called her, so I remained silent and she was quiet too for long. She texted me after three weeks saying she didn't know how to tell her family about the incident. And that she would like it if we could be talking. I didn't believe communication would bring her relief. Probably it would keep memory of the rape alive and fresh.

On one evening on January, I was given a message when I returned at home that a girl by the name Brenda had come to ask for me. But I still felt heavy. I knew I should have been the support she needed through this difficult time, but do I have a face to face her? So I decided to cut off ties with her completely. And I applied to another college to continue my course.