Bloody Tears

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Her beauty was overwhelming. She was elegant, quite promising and nascent.  Her smile often illumines her face and makes her more endearing. Being the only child of her parents, she was treated likejewelry of an inestimable worth. She had a joyful upbringing with an immeasurable love and attention from her parents.  Coupled with her beauty, she also possessed priceless potentials. Nature was indeed fair to her. Her future was quite blossoming just as her potentials kept ripening.

In school, she was outstanding.  Her teachers were proud of her because she was anything one could expect from a student. Her brilliance was quite impressing.Little wonder, so many students flock around her, extending hands of friendship. She blended all these qualities with a sublime humility that leaves no one that comes in contact with her, any option than to love her.

From her earliest stage in life, she had begun to lay bricks for her future. She admired sciences and nursed the ambition to study Medicine. Human life mattered so much to her and she wanted to contribute in making people live a healthier life through medical profession.

Her dream began to materialize when shortly after her secondary education she was admitted to study Medicine in one of the prestigious tertiary institutions in her country. Her joy knew no bounds. Her parents provided her with all she needed as a fresher. Within a couple of weeks, she was already in the university.

In spite, of the many challenges she faced in school, she kept her record of excellence and maintained her character. Things continued to move well until the ugly incident occurred. It was unexpected. In her deepest thought, she could not have conceived herself being a victim. It happened so fast like a dream and before she could realize it was actually real. She cried beyond control, the way she had not done before. Her heart bled. She asked God why a number of times but no answer came. 

The sad news got to her parents through her friend, and within a short period of time, with heavy hearts filled with anguish they arrived, picked her and rushed her to the hospital. The doctor examined her, gave her some pills which enabled her to sleep. She later passed through series of tests and it was confirmed she had not contracted any disease and she was not pregnant.

Life took a different shape. Her beams of smiles were replaced with stream of tears. She would often stay alone in her room weeping and wailing. The passion with which she had done things in the pastwas gone. Her grades began to drop. She could hardly attend lectures and when she managed to do, her attention would not be there. Her lecturers tried talking to her a number of times but she insisted she was fine. Letting them know her plight she considered would be a double tragedy. It was clear she was depressed and needed serious help. Her best friend called the attention of her parents who later came and took her home.

Seeing that all possible ways to advise her to forge on with life had been exhausted, her parents resolved to talk to a Psychotherapist about her condition. The Psychotherapist explained to her parents that one of the devastating effects of rape is depression and that’s what had befell their daughter and so she needed a great help. She was enrolled and they fixed sessions with himon her stead.

At first, she refuted the idea but later yielded. The first session she had with the doctor was anything but successful. She barely listened to his admonitions and could not stop crying. With time, she began to talk to him. She emptied her feelings to him. He tried giving her hope. He assured her about God being in control but she doubted. But I cried to God that night she said, I screamed and called unto him, as they went through successive thrusts. He pitied her and could feel her anguish. His greatest consolation to her was that time heals. Time heals our deepest injuries and with time, she would get over it. He read uplifting quotes to her and gave her some motivational books.

In one of her sessions with the therapist, she asked him a touching question: “Maybe because I am a woman,it could not have happened to a man right? He could not have been devoured by his fellow men.” Placing his hands around her shoulder the doctor spoke to her softly:“Precious, your name reenacts the beauty of your life. Life still has something precious for you.

We are shaped by the challenges we face each day and our task should be to overcome these challenges. Robin Sharma captures this fact succinctly in his book: The Monk who sold his Ferrari, when he  says: “I have had dreams and I have had nightmares. I overcame my nightmares because of my dreams.” You can still overcome this depression, only then will you come to cherish your life once more and its beauty restored.”

Her sessions with the therapist helped improved her condition but certain things remained unchanged.She loathed men. She adopted the view that all men are the same: wicked, hostile and outrageous. The causal cruelty of this melancholy grew a hard clot of fear inside her. She lived her life in sullen silence. Back in school, she met a number of girls who have had similar awful experience. They all shared their experiences and they were eager to hear hers. She clenched her fists in order to pave way for strength.  On her face was a great and stark fear; it made her look stripped down to nothing like a skull with gaping holes as eyes.

She recounted her awful story, how she was at the peak of life until the night she was apprehended by some bandits on her way home from night class, and in spite of her pleas, they forced themselves on her.“I cried and cried but they didn’t stop. It was my darkest night and the genesis of my life as a rape victim she said.” Life became meaningless for me and I knew from thence that my life would always be like a candlelit room; I would see things only in half glimpses. She had begun to shed bloody tears;her friend took her in her arms and they went away.

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