I was posted to serve in Lagos and after my National Youth Service, I was retained at my workplace. Hence, I moved out of the corps lodge and rented an apartment in a location close to my office. It was a newly developed apartment, and my parents assisted me in completing the rent.
I was still getting used to my new apartment, and I only knew a few people living in the residence. There was a power outage in our area, and it lingered on, so my phone battery and other gadgets went flat. I called the security guard to help switch on my generator, and he did.
I began typing some documents I brought home from the office when I heard a knock on my door. I first peeped through the peephole to see who it was and saw this young man. I opened the door and inquired what he wanted. He told me he was my neighbor living in the upstairs apartment.
I remembered seeing him a few days ago on my way to work early in the morning when he offered me a ride. I refused because he was a stranger. He had explained that he was my neighbor living upstairs, but I still declined his ride and boarded a taxi to work while he drove off.
I asked him what he wanted, and he explained that he needed to charge his phone because of the power outage. He had noticed my generator was on, so he came over. I collected his phone to help him charge it, but he asked to come inside, saying he needed to make a quick business call or he would lose a deal. I agreed and let him in.
He introduced himself as “Fredrick” and said he had just moved in about six months ago. He continued to tell me more about himself while I just listened without contributing much. After some time, he asked for my phone number. I gave it to him and excused myself to my room to continue my office work.
Not long after I entered my room, I heard footsteps. I continued typing on my computer, and as I looked up, I saw Freddrick entering my bedroom. I asked what he wanted, and barely had the words left my mouth when he laughed deeply and threw me on the bed.
I tried to shout, but he used one hand to cover my mouth and the other to undress me. He inserted his penis into my vagina and raped me. He was moaning in pleasure while raping me, and I was in pain.
When he finished, he looked at me and threatened to kill me if I ever told anyone. I tried to pick up my phone to call my friend, but he quickly snatched it from me. It slipped and the screen broke. I continued crying. Freddrick was unbothered and dragged me to the bathroom to wash off. Unknown to me, he had set his phone to record the abuse.
After I returned from the bathroom, he raped me two more times and further threatened to kill me. He claimed to belong to a dangerous cult group and warned that if I reported the incident, he or his cult members would kill me.
I was shaken and trembling in pain when he finally left. He forgot his phone and returned a few minutes later to pick it up. His presence alone was terrifying. He dragged me by the neck, almost choking me to death before letting me go and repeating his threats.
He dragged me to lock the door and then left, as it wasn’t locked when he returned earlier.
I was exhausted, tired, and hungry, so I pulled myself to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, which I drank before going back to my bedroom and crying until I fell asleep.
I woke up in the morning grateful that it was Sunday, knowing I couldn’t go to church. I was afraid to step out and was experiencing migraines and flashbacks. My whole body ached, and my vagina was sore from the constant force he used to penetrate me.
I got up, brushed my teeth, made breakfast, and took painkillers. My phone screen was broken, so I couldn’t make any calls or go out for fear. I was stranded in my own house and went back to bed.
On Monday morning, I used my computer to send an official mail that I was sick and would not be coming to the office. Then I went back to bed again.
Because my parents could not reach me by phone which was unusual, they sent my younger brother to check on me. He came to my house on Tuesday and met me in bad shape. He decided to take me to the hospital, but I refused. He then insisted on fixing my phone screen.
Upon returning after fixing my phone screen, messages began dropping on my WhatsApp. I suddenly screamed out in pain. My brother, who was curious, quickly grabbed the phone and saw a sex video sent by the perpetrator. He was demanding a sum of two million naira or he would publish it to all my contacts and on social media.
My brother was furious. He demanded I tell him everything and immediately called a friend of his who was a senior police officer. He asked us to report the incident at the nearest police station.
While at the station, we wrote our statements, and we were referred for medical assessment, treatment, and psycho-social counseling at WARIF Centre.
The amazing thing is that all the services at the Centre were carried out free of charge. The counselor at the Centre assured me that it was not my fault. She helped restore my lost hope and self-esteem and taught me coping techniques that were helpful in dealing with the trauma associated with rape.
I also had the privilege of attending the monthly group therapy session, which helped me overcome self-blame, anxiety, guilt, flashbacks, and insomnia.
Meanwhile, the perpetrator was arrested the next day, and his other syndicate members were tracked down. Many other survivors came out to speak after his arrest, and he was charged to court and sentenced to jail.
It’s been one year since the event, and I can tell you that I have gotten my confidence back. I just got admission for my Master’s degree at a prestigious university abroad (although I will be studying online), and I was awarded “Employee of the Year” at the quarterly meeting held last month in my organization.
All of this would not have been possible if I had not come in contact with WARIF and the amazing staff at the Centre.
Many thanks to the WARIF team for keeping up the good work!