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"Who
are you to tell me who I am?"
Kebarileng
Sebetoane
Extracted
from Sister Namibia, Vol 19 #2.
May 31, 2007
On 7 March 2004, when
I was 17 years old, I started hating all men. It took one man to
make me hate all men. I hated him so much. The only thing I could
think of was killing him. On that night I made a promise to myself
that I'd never associate myself with any other man. I blamed
myself. The thought of him on top of me, unable to defend myself
made facing tomorrow impossible. I saw no hope and lost faith. My
dreams were shattered, and the freedom to say I am me was lost.
Kingsley* and I were
friends, more like a brother and sister. I was on my way from the
Forum for the Empowerment of Women (FEW) offices in Johannesburg
where I attended life skills and computer training when I first
met him. He introduced himself as a gay man, but not many people
knew about his sexuality, so he said. He warned me not to tell anybody
especially his friends because he was not 'out' to everyone.
We'd spent most of our days together if I was not with my
girlfriend or my other friends, and it would feel odd if days passed
without seeing each other.
One evening we went out
to a club near his home. I started dancing with other people, some
friends from high school, and was really enjoying myself when his
mood changed. He complained I was spending too much time with others.
I didn't want to upset him, so I sat with him. It got late,
and he had the only key for the house. I insisted on going home.
It was chilly, and he wanted to get something warm to wear. We went
to his place. I went to the outside toilet and thought he was getting
a jacket. I was shocked to see him standing right in front of the
toilet. He didn't look happy so I asked him what was wrong.
He didn't reply; he went to his room. I followed him with
a hope of finding out. That was the worst mistake I ever made.
I got a bit tense when
he started giving me the 'you make me sick look'. He
locked the door. He began swearing at me and saying how much he
hates people who pretend. I asked him what he was talking about.
He was furious with the lesbian life I was living. He said I should
stop taking other people's girlfriends and that I was beautiful
and capable of getting myself a boyfriend. I got angry and argued
back. He slapped me on the face and warned me, "Tonight I'm
going to change you, and from now on you are my new girlfriend."
I told him that I know
my rights and got up to leave. He grabbed a screwdriver and threatened
to stab me. I became quiet, trying to find a way to calm him down
and to leave without getting hurt. He ordered me to take off my
clothes while he hit me with anything he came across. I cried and
screamed, but he told me he wasn't scared of anything or anyone.
He punched me, and I thought he was going to kill me if I fought
back.
He raped me repeatedly
for over an hour. I was quiet with tears streaming down my face.
He continued to beat me and kept asking me if I loved him. When
I said no, the beating got worse. A little after midnight he fell
asleep.
I dressed silently and
left. I went straight home and cried the whole night. His smell
was all over my clothes and body, and it felt like he was still
with me. I took a bath three times. I called Zanele Muholi of FEW,
the only person I could relate to. We went to People Opposing Women
Abuse (POWA) for counseling and then to Johannesburg for a medical
exam and treatment. We didn't get help because there were
neither doctors nor nurses on duty, and they had no crime kits.
They also said that it was not possible for a doctor based in Johannesburg
to testify in a case originating in Krugersdorp.
Zanele organised a car,
and we drove to Kagiso. Again there was no doctor on duty and no
crime kits at the crisis centre. While we were waiting for the doctor,
the police arrived with a crime kit. After three hours, the doctor
came. I was examined, and then he took the statement for the medical
report. I told him that the guy raped me because I was a lesbian.
As soon as he heard this he stopped writing. "Why are you
a lesbian at this age? Do you know that it is against the constitution
to make such a decision without the consent of a parent? You are
wearing a cross of Christ; did you know that it is an abomination
in the eyes of God to be a lesbian?" he questioned.
"The guy raped
me because he wanted to change me; are you saying that was the right
thing to do?" I asked him. He didn't answer. Instead
he scratched off the report and said, "There is no sign of
forceful penetration because the girl had already broken her virginity.
The blood stain in the eyes is due to constant rubbing and might
develop further if not treated." Without a medical report
I had a weakened case.
The police finally arrived,
and I opened a case. I went home, but couldn't stay long,
my safety was not guaranteed. Later, I got a call from the police
informing me the guy had been arrested and that I'd be notified
in advance about the case and court details. I left Johannesburg
to ease my mind and spent a month in Kwa Zulu Natal. When I came
back, I heard Kingsley had been released from jail. I called the
sergeant who was handling the case. He told me the same thing. "They'll
notify you in advance."
On 28 August 2004, I
saw my rapist; he approached me and threatened to kill me. I felt
cold, betrayed, angry and very scared. I called the sergeant, but
couldn't get hold of him. I went to the station. They couldn't
find the docket and said it didn't exist. I was failed medically,
and the justice system proved its inexistence. South Africa is celebrating
twelve years of democracy, but with written policies that are not
implemented. We are told to co-operate and not take the law into
our own hands. Others harm us and get away with it; we have no way
getting justice. Will South Africa ever change and accommodate everyone?
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