Photo of a rape victim for illustration

By Preye Campbell

For starters, I am happy everyone is finally talking about you.

It doesn’t completely heal my heart, but it gives me that much-needed reprieve to see you become the centre of everyone’s attention.

Wait, you don’t remember me, do you? Of course not. I don’t find that hard to believe.


To you, I was just one more pawn in your big Chess game. I was just one in a long, excruciating line of people that you have shamed and defiled.

You can’t remember my face, definitely. It happened so fast for you after all. For you, it was just five minutes of pleasure. For me, it’s a lifetime. The hidden scars, the tragic memory, the nightmares… you can’t wash that away in years.

And I couldn’t hide the fear you crept in me. Of course, I couldn’t tell the world what monster you were. In this crestfallen, corrupt-laden society, who would have believed me anyway? Men would turn deaf ears, Women would fault me, Children would laugh at me. You had your game plan perfectly set after all.

Because of you, parts of me died. Because of you, suicide became my close friend. Because of you, dreams were aborted. Swallowed hook, line and sinker. And it wasn’t just me, you had your ‘preys’ in check too.

So, you should know that this one moment, where everyone is talking about you, where atrocities you have made are being reported everyday, where the nation yearns for justice, is one I will forever cherish.

Sometimes, I don’t know who the rapist is – you or them. ‘Them’ who are supposed captains, sailing the ship of the land into obliteration. ‘Them’ who dash and blow our dreams sky high, into smithereens. Very soon, no one will talk about you again, so I just have to enjoy this moment while it lasts.

Dear Rapist, for what it’s worth, I hope the fragrance of justice will outshine the repugnant smell you have caused on the streets.

I hope, assuredly, you find a befitting place in hell.

– Sade Adaobi Hauwa