My story on sexual abuse, infertility and tremendous loss

Written by: Admin_SheEvo

It all started when I was sexually abused when I was 11 years old I am 28 years old and the firstborn in a family of 5. My life has always been a mystery. It started when I was 11 years old when my late uncle sexually abused me. My Mum brought her young brother with us. At the time, we lived in a two room house. I was sleeping with my uncle in the living room. We never had a bed, but we used sofa cushions as a bed, so my little brother, uncle, and I slept together using the same blankets. Poor culture and ignorance, correct?

My uncle could take advantage of me in the night by playing with my private parts and rubbing his penis on me. I couldn’t say anything. I kept quiet because he threatened that he would beat me when Mum left the house. I was so angry and lost concentration on myself and at school. One day, I refused to sleep in the sitting room and insisted that I sleep with Mum. My Mum asked me why, but I couldn’t say. She refused as she thought I was childishly seeking attention. The next day after school, I went to my grandma’s place and didn’t return home.

While I was staying at my grandma’s place, my cousin and I were sent to get something from granny’s brother, who is far from her place. As we walked, we came across this man who said he knew me through a relative, although I didn’t know him. He greeted me and asked me about a relative, which made me trust that he knew me. He offered to escort my cousin and me, and we accepted. He suggested that my cousin go alone, and I would join her later as he needed help with something. Because I was young and naive, I agreed. I kept asking him where we were going. He kept saying Tifika manje manje (we will get there soon). Soon, we arrived at this unfinished house. He told me he wanted to pee and that I should wait for him by the door, which I did. He showed me a pack of biscuits and told me to take some. As I reached out to take one, he grabbed my hand and showed me a screwdriver, threatening to kill me if I screamed. The man had everything planned. I was raped mercilessly. I couldn’t scream. He took me back to where I had left my cousin with a biscuit in my hand. I was only 11. I was terrified because I had never gone through anything like that, and it shut me down. I never said a word to anyone until now.

Fast forward to when I was 15years old, my neighbour raped me. He was older than me; I think he was 25 by then, and he called me to go and play chess with him. We sat outside, and then he suggested we go inside as it was sunny. He was alone in the house. We went inside, and he locked the door, pulled me to the bedroom and took advantage of me. Afterwards, he released me as if nothing had happened and threatened to beat me if I opened my mouth.In 2014, I got into a relationship with a guy. Because of the bad experiences I had had with sex, I could not have sex with him. He cheated on me with another girl and got her pregnant. It was okay for me as I despised sex. He told me that he didn’t want to continue with an ugly girl like me and that I embarrassed him in front of his friends. I let him go. This became a trend for some time, that guys, to a total number of 6, left me because of not having sex with them. I told myself not to date again and to concentrate on school.

In 2016, I finished school and decided to take up a job opening at one of the companies in the industrial area (Halla Industries). I met an older woman who became my friend. We went to work together and left the premises together. Her boyfriend was a soldier. One day, he came to pick her up from work to visit his farm in Kafue. My friend asked me to join them. It was a Saturday, and we arrived in Kafue around 3 pm. We started our journey home at about 6 pm and reached Lusaka at around 8 pm.

The man suggested that he drop his girlfriend first and me later. The girl insisted that he drop me first, but he refused. I was terrified because I knew something terrible was going to happen. He stopped to buy beer and cigarettes. When he returned, he asked me to sit in front of the car. I did. While driving, he started touching me. He drove to an abandoned place, stopped his car, dropped his car seats, removed my pants, and for two hours raped me recklessly. I couldn’t scream. He had a gun and told me that he was going to shoot me if I screamed. I just wanted to die as he did whatever he would have wanted to do with a woman.

Finally, he decided to take me home, and when we reached my place, he raped me again before releasing me. He gave me k20 for a morning-after pill and warned me not to tell his girlfriend. Pointing a gun at me, he said if I did, he would shoot me and my entire family. After this, I completely lost all sense of myself and any feelings of self-love. I hated myself and slept with any guy I called my boyfriend. In 2018, I was 22 and I met a guy who wanted to marry me. We had unprotected sex on several occasions, but to our surprise, I couldn’t fall pregnant. He said he was only going to marry me if I had a child with him. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fall pregnant. I figured my womb was disfigured because of an early exposure to sex. I went to the hospital, explained everything, did tests, and discovered that my intuition was correct. My womb was damaged. They suggested its removal, but I refused. Upon knowing that, the man fled.

In 2022, I met this angel of a man on an online dating site. He was gentle, God-fearing, loyal, caring, honest and all those things that describe a good man. I told him everything that had happened to me in the past and my condition of childbearing. Guess what? He didn’t care about that. He took me as I was, advised, prayed for me, and told me he would do anything to make me happy. He took me to a private hospital for check-ups, and he was only a student at CBU. It was like sunrise for me. I was so thankful to God that finally, he had wiped my tears away, not knowing what was ahead of me.

In November last year, he became ill and was taken to hospital; I went there to nurse him. They operated successfully, and he stayed in the ICU for three days and then succumbed to appendicitis. It has been 5months since he died. I feel useless. I don’t know what to think or do. I cry every night and day, asking God why it should always be me. Still, people from church and my late man’s relatives came on board, providing counselling, Prayers and words of encouragement. It has helped, but I have not recovered. Losing a loved one is so painful. This is my story.