“Please call police and come rescue me. John (real name withheld) beat me up last night, my head, lips and my whole body is injured. He wanted to kill me. I am not allowed to make a call please. Please help please!”
“ Please I feel like I’m going to die.”
“Come with security insist he opens the door please.”
“Call police please.”
“He hid the key. Please help me.”
“In case you find me unconscious I overdosed my sleeping pills.”
Most Sundays, I think it’s a good excuse to talk about my favorite drunken pastime with boyz. No, it’s not darts, or pool (which i can’t even shoot) or even that old classic: Saying Things I’ll Soon Regret, maybe a couple of texts( Who doesn’t? hahaha). My favorite drinking tradition is the annual telling of the Drunk Stories. Nobody spins a vomit-soaked yarn as vigorously as an Irishman, but hell, this time was different.
I remember waking up to a beautiful sunny day, looking up at the unusually blue skies thinking, what a beautiful day it was. But these rather unusual messages, choose me for a good morning text instead. Numb and bewilderment had nothing on me! I couldn’t bring myself to imagine let alone understand how two people who were all in each other arms, confessing their love for each in our presence just a few hours ago could be in a such a situation.
I stormed out of the house headed to Carol’s house (not real name) who has been a friend for over 2 yrs now. She lives a block from my hacienda. On my way there, I tried to return her calls since she had tried calling me a thousand times but no answer. God know how much I prayed for her to be okay. At this time, my heart is a train pounding down the tracks.
She finally answered;
“Hey, what is going on?”
Shaky voice on the of the line “ Can you come over?”
“I am on my way.”
Shortly after, I was at her doorstep. At this time, John had already left the house. Truly, humans are a peeling back layers of an onion. With every layer we peel back, we can potentially face great pain and lots of tears. Had you asked me about John hours earlier I would have bet on my last dollar that he was the sweetest boyfriend for my friend ever. When I saw her bloody face, black eye (it was red though, you know fresh injuries), I broke down at the animosity of a person. She narrated the atrocities she went through in the hands of her lover. ” I had no clothes on since I was planning to take a shower. With a sudden pounce, he dunted me that I hit the floor with my forehead. I tried to scream for help but he kept on choking the life out of me and raping me at the same time. Kare I was begging for my life. And the more I pleaded with him the harder he tightened his grip around my neck! Oh Lord! I am traumatized! He had turned in to a MONSTER that night. My sin was dancing with his male friend, yet he was dancing with the said man’s girlfriend.” (talk of double standards) I couldn’t hold back tears.
There are a million of words in the English language, but there is no combination that accurately described THE FEELING OF HOW MUCH I wanted to beat his ass with a chair, or organize thugs to jump him like a piece of sh_t that he is but more report him to the authorities. I was VEXED!! I’m glad she was brave enough to report this matter.
It has taken me a while to publish this post, but at the same time it gladdens me to know that It opens a dialogue to talk about what is actually happening in the society. Domestic violence reflects worldwide statistics in that women are the overwhelming majority of victims. Of over 40% of married women in Kenya have reported being victims of either domestic violence or sexual abuse. Global estimation published by WHO indicated that about 1 in 3 (35%) of women worldwide have experienced either physical and/or sexual intimate partner violence or non-partner sexual violence in their lifetime. While as 38% murders of women, are committed by a male intimate partner. This violence affect women physically, mentally, and sexually negatively.
The Constitution of Kenya provides men and women protection from “inhuman treatment or torture,” but it doesn’t explicitly provide protection from violence against women and girls. The Kenyan Penal Code also has provisions that are used to protect against domestic violence under a section called “Sexual Offenses,” I am not very conversant with the law, but I feel the language used in this provision has lent itself to many loopholes.
Sometimes to stop loving someone you shouldn’t, is to start loving someone that you should….Which is YOU. Love YOU! Oh wait!! I am writing this in the comfort of my white frames to offset dark sofa. Out of mere serendipity, my all time eternal love song by Shania Twain playing in the background. To many, by the mention of the name, make you want to fall in love. Not that I can’t hear some loud thoughts of the “thugs/gangsters” pondering who or if that’s the new type of blunt in the market after the supposedly shortage of the commodity. But I have decided to disregard you and instead offer advice that; Google is your friend.
On my reading adventures, I came across a story of Goldilocks and the Three bears. What stood out for was when Goldilocks (whom I thinks she doesn’t get too much credit by the way,) was when she came across 2 bowls of porridge that was not meant for her. She could have easily assumed it was meant for her at that time because she was really hungry. The first bowl of porridge was really hot. She could have assumed that, that bowl would be the one to satisfy her and eat it all, but instead she took one sip and said it was too hot for her. She went on to the next bowl, which had cold porridge, again she took a sip and mahn it was too cold for her liking. Hot hurts, and the pain will send you away. Everyone can drink cold porridge, she did not.
Sometimes we do not get up quickly from things and situations that are not right for us. Ideally, cause we have had bad experiences here, it makes a not so bad experience more tolerable. The second bowl was the problem, because sometimes we come off from an abusive relationship and now that somebody is not putting their hands on us, we are willing to stick around even if they do not satisfy us. So we end up settling for the DAMN cold bowl of porridge and we don’t move on to the next. Had Goldilocks, satisfied her hunger on the second bowl she wouldn’t have moved on to the 3rd bowl which was right and meant for her.
Hot is the guy who hurt you, the cold won’t. How long are you willing to stay with the wrong person? Do you have the confidence to keep going on? All Goldilocks did was acknowledge that the 1st and 2nd bowl weren’t good for her. It is not about being too picky, but rather whether you patient to move away from people unsuitable for YOU.
This alarms me. No one should hurt like that. When and if you’re a victim of violence make sure you report. It can get worse, choose to walk away and drink from a cup life as much as often.
NEVER SETTLE. REMAIN PATIENT.