Its an awfully beautiful Sunday afternoon, regular visitors to my house would he surprised to see me here and this is not only because I rarely spend my Sundays home but also because I am here in the front house trying to do up the landscape. It’s such a peaceful sight yet the same cannot be said about what is going on in my mind. Dear friends the thing is, when you watch the news and see kids that have been molested, like in my case, it doesn’t really make any sense until it happens to one of your own.
Allow me to take you back to that fateful and most recent Friday night, naturally after a long week I would link up with a couple of friends around our lovely Lusaka to hide somewhere in Rhodespark to hear the latest and to simply unwind the week. And so it was on the Friday that I linked up with ‘the usual suspects’ on what started off be to a promising evening. Little did I know that the next few minutes would paint a very grim picture.
I got a call from my little cousin and my first thought was an eminent invitation to one of those salsa dances around town, oh boy how was I wrong. Her message was simple yet thought provoking, ‘you better get home, my dear’. It wasn’t a prank; my kid sister was reported to have been raped. I obviously never really grasped the reality of that message until I got home only to see my aging mother turned into a sorry sight.
This prompted my quick arrival at woodlands Police station where the police officers on duty charged in response to my dismal temperament. Before I realized it, I had four officers at hand to withhold my anger. I looked at my twelve year old sister and couldn’t entertain the fact that some insane men had taken her advantage of her. As I peered deeper in her young eyes, a lot of thoughts came in my mind. I thought about the emotional trauma that this kid was obviously going through, I thought about the possibility of her contracting HIV, I thought about how this experience would affect her sexuality in future. Trust me; you wouldn’t want to be in my shoes.
The night earned itself some credit as the worst night ever such that as I made my way to the children’s section of the University Teaching Hospital, I didn’t know whether it was more important for me to be angry with the culprits or to sympathize with my kid sister. I could deploy all my available resources to making sure that the culprits have been brought to book but what would that change about my sister’s fate? I have too many questions with but a handful of answers. I guess you just never know, until it happens to one of your own!