Protect your daughter, Educate your son

I wasn’t pinned down. I trusted him. I didn’t fight him. I trusted him. I was uncomfortable, he knew I was uncomfortable. But he went on. And when he was done, the blood didn’t phase him. He cleaned up and said we should leave. I followed him. I trusted him. He gave me a fifty shilling note and waited till I boarded a matatu. He didn’t call. Or text. I trusted him.

We were at a party. He knew I was drunk. He knew I would resist if I wasn’t. He knew I was powerless. Yet he went on. We were supposed to be friends. I was dating his best friend. I asked him to stop. He told me just one more minute. I felt pain. I was numb. And then he left the room. He smiled at me in the morning.

I was seated at the front. Just me and him. A stranger I met a few minutes ago. He was nice. Polite. And so I fell asleep. Until I didn’t. I felt his hands. I didn’t understand what was happening at first. Until he smirked. And then I saw them, his hands on my chest. I couldn’t scream, no one would hear me. At least that’s what he made me believe. So I moved away, created as much distance as possible. But the feel of his hands, that, that never left.

He invited me to his place. I should have known. He moved closer, I should have known. His hand on my thigh. His other holding me down. I tried to scream, his mouth came over mine. I wiggled, he was stronger than me. He murmured in my mouth. I didn’t quite catch his words. And then I shoved him. And as I ran out, I caught the maid’s pitiful eyes following me.