This week women from all walks of life stood up and spoke against ending rape culture. Ending subjugation and objectification by the men and those of their own. I thought hard about talking about my encounter then it hit me. This year its about telling your stories rather the most unlikely stories thus I invited my help for high tea .
She has a health African body, with a passion for beauty and a heart for living life to the fullest. She dressed up for tea. Her pink dress gently kissed the temple of her knees while her veins popped out the heels she bought over Easter. Her lips are crimson red which brightens up her dark completion. She clumsily attempted the queens cross while she sat down at the porch.
I paid no attention to her fumbling to the seat. She joined me at watching the sunset over the seemingly cloudy horizon. The Ngong hills peek over on the right while the soothing green landscape of the Athi plains gave the perfect canvas to this afternoon tea. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief to grab my attention. I turned to her sipped my green tea then asked ” how comes you never speak about your babies father, ” she leans back in disappointment and responds “there isn’t much to say about him,” “he was to marry me but thugs came home three day’s after we spoke and raped me before they left, he didn’t want to touch me since.”
She calmly sipped her tea then reached for the cookies we made an hour ago. I was too angry to notice the few that fell off the side of the plate or the dogs barking at passersby. I was unable to wrap my head around such pain. As a woman I was unable to walk a mile her shoes. That was enough to make me feel guilty. Guilty of love, naivety, of vulnerability and womanhood. Yes womanhood, it’s easier for a man to impregnated a woman than it is for her to bear the child. The man simply picks up from the bed and life goes but for a woman life changes, everything about it gets complicated. If she chooses to it is not that easy. It is even worse for one who has to “do it all” alone (I was raised by one trust me, I know)
Where were we, ah yes. Cecilia allowed my mind to wonder back into our tea time. I was too ashamed to apologize and gave the floor for the dogs to entertain us. I watched her gently stroke my gentle giant as he settled next to her. I broke the silence with the most selfish question. “How did your parents handle the news?” She broke into a smile, ” their love saved me, they adopted my son since the ordeal. ” she continued ” my father says he has five children yet in essence we are four, my child calls me sister he has grown up knowing that and I wouldn’t be grateful for anything else but their love. I was able to forgive those men and him” she looks me dead in the eye ” if I never received such love I don’t know what or where I would be I life. ” she laughs and looks in to the distances.