My mother told me my father died when I was about 3 year old. When I was 11, my mother remarried and we moved in with her husband. The first year of the marriage was almost like paradise for me. However, my nightmare started when my mother was heavily pregnant. My step-father visiting my room in the night. The first few days he forced me to suck his "thing", then one night when my mother was deep asleep he got into my room and forced himself inside me. I screamed and tried to kick him off me, but he placed his hand over my mouth and pressed my fragile 12-year-old body on the old mattress. When he was done abusing me, he told me that if I told my mother he will throw us out of the house. The next morning I was so sore between my legs that I was walking funny and my mother noticed. I told her I fell and hit my leg on my way back from school and she believed me.
My step-father visited my room almost every night, for two months still my mother had the baby. She was always awake with the baby at night so he had no chance of coming to my room and repeating the devilish act. Two years later my mother got pregnant and during the last few months of her pregnancy the abuse started again. When my mother gave birth it stopped but unfortunately I was already pregnant at 15. My mother told me I had added a lot of weight and should slow down on food. My tiny breast were growing larger and sadly I did not have a clue why my body was going through all the changes. One day on my way back from school I felt a shape pain in my stomach and blood started running down my legs. The next thing I knew I was the hospital and my mother calling my name and crying. I had an Ectopic pregnancy which got raptured and my womb had to me taken out. I only came to understand this with age, when the doctors told my mother I can never birth a child again it didn't really mean anything to me till I was much older.
When I felt a little better my mother asked me who was responsible for the pregnancy and when I told her she fainted. She asked me for all the details of what happened and I told her. My mother kept saying through her tears "why didn't you tell me, why" in my local language. When I left the hospital we went straight to my grandmother's house. My mother went to the police and was told it is a family matter and should be handled as such. My step-father's people vehemently refused to discuss the issue.
There are days I blame my mother for not being vigilant enough, and some days I blame myself for not telling her. Other days I question God. I don't see men the way other women do and do not think I will ever do. I was told by my pastor to let go and move on. How can I let go? Each time I see or hear a child crying it reminds me of my past. I write to you in tears and hope Cameroon and Africa at large can pay more attention the RAPE. It is happening everywhere around us but we have refused to see it. I do not want any child to end up in my situation or even worst.
God bless you all.