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VIOLATED (part 3)

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I landed on the sofa behind me. Some minutes later, I woke up into the hands of a hungry pain that was biting the sacred part below my navel. I had been raped by respected men in the body of Christ. “Jesus!” I sat up and there was blood stain on my dress. I was a virgin before now and I had been violated.

I had kept my virginity as the most precious thing to me, despite all the pressures on campus. I refused to have a boyfriend because I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t ask for sex and I wasn’t ready to give it.

I had made a promise to God and my future husband to keep myself till marriage. And now, God just watched what I had jealously guarded taken away from me, against my will, by His own servants. “God, is this how to keep the apple of your eyes? How could you even have allowed it? I thought you loved me? Is this how to show it?” I questioned God deeply in my heart.

I should have just gone to learn a trade like my course mates. I chose to work for God and this is what I got from it. I didn’t seduce them, my body wasn’t exposed, so how did I attract these dogs? How could they even be bold to stand on the holy pulpit of God? I wish we were still in the days of Moses; fire from heaven should burn them alive right on the altar in front of the congregation.

Pastor Joel handed me an envelope and told me it was to keep my mouth shut. Pastor John added that I would be killed if anyone should ever hear about what happened. I looked into the envelope and it was a cheque of five hundred thousand naira. “Wow!” This has really been well planned. I was not only raped, but now, I was being paid off. Who would I talk to? Who would help me? What if I told someone and they killed me like they said they would? I could not think or say anything. I sat there weeping.

I tried to stand but fell back on the sofa. ‘I have to leave this place’. I gathered strength and stood up. I left the office that day never to return there or the church. My parents were not home when I got there, so I didn’t have to explain to anyone why I looked messed up. I cleaned myself up and wept profusely. I was devastated. I felt used. God had to punish these men. Even if He doesn’t love me like I had always thought, He should at least protect His name.

It was around the time for the compulsory 1-year National Youth Service Corps (NYSC), so my parents weren’t suspicious of anything when I told them I had quit the job. I stayed home for the next 2 weeks before we went for orientation camp.

To be continued…



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About Author

Faleye Abimbola Tinuola (Makarios) is a graduate of Obafemi Awolowo University (BSc. Building). She writes about women generally, she has always enjoyed writing but recently she decided to take it more serious. She writes to help women in all categories; teenage girls, young ladies, married women. She is an active christian.

(4) Comments

  1. Esther Soleye says:

    I am eagerly waiting for the conclusion…..

    1. Thanks for reading, ma’am

    2. Faleye Abimbola says:

      Thanks for following ma
      Keep reading

    3. Faleye Abimbola says:

      Thank you for reading ma

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