Thought Picnic: In the omerta of abuse

No perfect narrative exists

There are taboo topics that society, community, or situation makes too difficult to talk about for many reasons from not having a frame of reference in which to conceptualise and understand to the need to avoid engagement so that the horror of that reality does not inflict on our comfort.

In the matters of child sexual abuse, domestic violence, sexual assault, or bullying, some of which I have addressed in my almost 20 years of blogging, finding the form of words to discuss with the hope that it does not upset is one for which there is neither art, skill, nor perfection to convey silent suffering and the associated issues.

Why they suffer in silence

I would guess that is the reason that obvious and apparent victims do not share their experiences and mostly never report anything because of shame or embarrassment, worse still the default audience sits in judgement with the view that there is much more that could have been done to prevent things happening to oneself.

Yet, reporting any abuse is not as easy as making a customer complaint or reporting a theft, the violation of the person is visceral, it starts with the body, as the mind considers what has happened, and the spirit is grieved in the realisation of that truth. Maybe, the bruised body can be healed, and the conflicted mind can with time find peace, to reach into the spirit to enliven it is a whole different matter. A person must find their way just as they have to work with the dreams and imaginations that play in their heads.

Wrestling back some agency

That these taboos need to see the light of day through expression, sharing, and talking about it so that perpetrators realise that they do not hold any power over the people they violate or are emboldened to act with impunity is necessary. However, navigating the present to gain the support, sympathy and empathy needed to grow would never be an easy task.

The child abused who on mentioning it is shut down because the adults who should protect them cannot deal with it, the person who has suffered domestic abuse takes the blame for instigation rather than the abuser getting excoriated, sexual assault is seen as opportunistic and victimless that partners of victims are more hurt than the one molested, being on the receiving end of bullying considered an act and state of weakness when one is expected to fight back and put a stop to it.

Help, don’t worsen it

The long hard mile that others would never walk in the shoes of the wearer is deemed the easiest feat of endeavour. People in pain from living through it are doubly hurt by others taking on the same pain for what they never lived. It is a strange world, you begin to believe that the cruellest thing to allow to happen to yourself is to suffer pain, to be a victim, to be caught in circumstances you should have controlled but you failed to.

Whilst silence cannot be the answer, we have to find it somewhere in our human nature to consider, to appreciate, to understand, to commiserate, to empathise, to feel, and to know, that others will have experiences beyond our comprehension, if we cannot help them, we should not make it worse. Sadly, this all is part of the story of our humanity, much as we would love better stories. I do not have the answers, we should be careful of taking offence in the hurt of another.

Once again, “Happy is he that condemneth not himself in that thing which he alloweth.” [Romans 14:22b] The journey of self-healing is lonely, scary, unsure, and not guaranteed. You take each day as vulnerable and human with the hope that there is better ahead.

To the liberation of the lamb

Another uncommon narrative

Her black eyes are concealed behind the makeup that provides the window dressing for the terror that is the shop she calls home, a place that was supposedly built on the union of love that went awry for all sorts of reasons. That story told daily is one to which we are almost inured, the regularity and commonality obfuscate other realities that never find a voice to express.

Like a man, all too vulnerable met in the circumstance where intentions differ between a welcoming host and a predatory guest. Who would have thought of the consequence of that encounter? What you open your door to in altruism is sometimes not what visits to aspire, but to conspire. It is churned in the mind as a silent review of shame and embarrassment, for which you find quiet consolation in the tears that refuse to come.

Indecent assault allowed

It is a battle of conflicts and knowledge ignored, even if needs are there, a sacred trust was betrayed in the exploitation of opportunity. Such is the incomprehensibility of the scenario to the onlooker until caught in the web of the spider, the many older vulnerable men who are victims of the machinations of youth are not what makes the discussion at most times, it is one of those taboo subjects found in the secrecy and confessional of a therapy you fear to sit in.

Young is attractive, but as long as temptation is kept from ingress, it has no power to overwhelm. In naivety, all resistance is worn down with unrelenting persistence, an advantage is acquired and there emerges a submission to a violation of the person in the helplessness of the situation. Like sheep to the slaughter, it is a willing suspension of inhibition for the moment to just pass unheralded.

Gaslighted into culpability

Liberties, the liberties seized in the freedom to act with imposition and intrusion whilst afterwards defanging possible accusations with feigning innocence by gaslighting and asking if they have done wrong or they were bad, knowing the response would never be negative as the personal hurt is absorbed in victimhood that dare not lay a charge. The sacrificial lamb was on the altar lain, though interminable was the watch to when it was to be slain.

The lamb momentarily unbound rises to flee as the worshipper intones with incandescent incantation, “I’m not done yet.” The lamb bounds with hinds like a mountain goat, a hardy escape from the blade of slaughter, it is well asunder. The end of that is the end indeed.

Happy is he that condemneth not himself in that thing which he alloweth. [Romans 14:22b] Maybe happy is not the feeling one has, but the rest is where some consolation from the ordeal does come.

Nigeria: On the #BBNaija disqualification, let's not be conflicted

Alright, it’s Big Brother

Last night, the irksome menace of the Big Brother franchise flooded my social media space with the news of a disqualification from the Nigerian version of the competition being filmed in South Africa.

Now, I am no fan of Big Brother which I think is a zoo under the intensity of Klieg lights with every move and activity beamed into the living rooms of voyeurs in denial of their appetite for watching people express themselves with the basest instincts.

Then again, it does provide a welcome distraction for many minds that cannot find any other productive activity for their time when ogling the ‘animals’ of the Big Brother zoo is fulfilling entertainment of a sort.

However, the disqualification came about because one of the contestants, Ekemini "Kemen" Ekerette, 27 (some say that is a football age), had sexually molested another housemate, "TBoss" Tokunbo Idowu, 32. I did see a snippet of the molestation, but the opinions about it appeared to be both divided and conflicted, in some cases the victim was termed Machiavellian and scheming as the perpetrator appeared to gain sympathy and pity.

Licence is no permission

The issue must be addressed head-on and there should be no room for equivocation on the matter. The facts are self-evident and the rest is sophistry seeking a conjecture towards exculpation which should attract excoriation with respite.

There is no doubt that the Big Brother environment provides a licence for lasciviousness, that licence must however never be construed to be the excuse to abuse anyone, emotionally, physically, sexually or verbally. Whatever excess becomes the expression of base and primal instinct, agency, self-control and consideration are not suddenly passé.

The Big Brother viewing audience is huge, within the spectacle of histrionics and restraint, there is a competition to win the hearts of the audience and thereby the competition. There is no clear path to success, but eventually, the true personality of the participant would be revealed to a global audience. There is no hiding place.

Without consent

So, in that setting, Kemen crept into TBoss’s bed without invitation, as if he had entitlement to her body, he began to caress the lady without having obtained consent and was well into the criminality of sexual abuse when the lady appeared to turn away from these apparently imposed upon and unwelcome advances.

Whether Kemen could take the hint and desist is for anyone to decide and whether TBoss should have violently fought off the encroachment into her private, personal space is open to debate, but that is not the matter at hand.

Kemen, without invitation or consent, violated a woman asleep in her own bed, that is the end of the story and the beginning of judgement. Whatever happened after he got under the sheets was an imposition borne of the aggressive persistence of a man who thought he could have his way and never face consequence or sanction.

No excuses

Maybe, there is some cultural schooling that not only excuses the violation of the woman or the child by those who take sexual favours off the vulnerable for their pleasure, we appear to acquiesce to and tolerate it too.

Much as TBoss was the victim of a wanton sexual violation, there were some ready to paint her as a Jezebel, suggesting she should have fought off the attack on her person and having not done that, she had tacitly given consent. There was no consent, none whatsoever. What happened without putting a finer point to it was at the very least an attempted rape and in the severest case, a rape.

Any sympathy that might have been felt for Kemen must dissipate without remnant, the man is a predator lacking any sense of self-control. That he allowed his urges to get the better of his senses is by no means worthy of pleas of mitigation. The disqualification was probably the minimum sanction acceptable in the scheme of things.

Don’t be conflicted

Those who think Kemen’s professional prospects have been destroyed, Kemen alone is responsible for his actions, he chose to violate a woman and he must face the consequences of his actions and whatever entails from his despicable act.

To all us who have a view on this matter, we cannot afford to be conflicted on this issue, when Kemen conceived the idea of entering TBoss’s room, he could have resisted the urge. When he entered her room and saw she was asleep, he could have turned back and waited until the morning to apologise for entering the room without invitation.

However, the moment he climbed into that bed, he had crossed the line, he had reached the point of harassment, violation, molestation and every reprehensible term of sexual misconduct anyone can muster and for that alone, his disqualification was merciful and more than deserved, his disgrace was assured and as we wait for his apology, I do hope that any other women within reach of this beast are not subjected to this entitlement complex of sexual violation, especially where there might be no evidence to prove this atrocity.

The Big Brother farce continues and I hope the setting offers a mirror on society and lessons to be learnt.

Thought Picnic: Fucked-up, but coping well

“You want to know how to rip the child out of a child? Fuck him.” [Judgement on Bailli]

Just as crude as it is

Following on from the conversation I started yesterday about the freedom to speak the truth regardless of whether it shocks or it is brutal, the excerpt at the beginning of this blog speaks volumes. It does not have to be gender specific, it applies to all children.

Blog - Reflecting on the brutal rape of my childhood innocence

On the matter of child sexual abuse, I cannot say when I read the many harrowing ordeals others experienced that I suffered anywhere along the lines of what they endured, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Yet, the crudeness of the opening statement does not begin to describe the loss of innocence of a child when exposed to such atrocious abuse and being made the object of abuse without any sense of humanity for the inordinate pleasure of the perpetrator.

We cope, either way

Though some of us who once were victims of abuse have found coping mechanisms to live somewhat well-adjusted lives, none of what happened then is without lasting consequence.

One such consequence for some of us was in getting this early practical and harrowing introduction to sex, we became like suckling toddlers who before being weaned had our diets changed from milk to meat. I covered that issue the blog below.

Blog - Thought Picnic: We Never Knew What a Healthy Sexual Relationship Was Because ...

Carrying on the theme from the introduction, one can in the colloquial say, these acts of child sexual abuse in ripping out the child out of the child fucks up their heads and fucks up their lives and that is the beginning of many other fuck ups that people may not understand.

The signs missed

A usually normal gregarious child that suddenly becomes withdrawn and introverted, performance at school going downhill, unexplained and out-of-character behaviour giving guardians concern, a tendency to unhealthy habits leading to inexplicable addictions – these are usually symptoms of something gone wrong and usually never properly understood without professional help.

Then you begin to wonder why certain children later in life do not measure up to all sorts of expectations of them. Enough mental anguish and energy is expended in attaining a sense of normalcy without being harangued by parent, relation, friend, acquaintance or anyone to fit to some model of responsibility and status.

No more abuse

Yet, many suffer all the more for trying to please from when they were under threat after abuse through to the present time. Not that we give much thought to being let down or finding no protection where ideally there should have been support, succour, comfort and protection, in most cases we harbour no grudges.

However, there comes a time that if the pushing and urging does not stop the ensuing torrent of bottled up emotion and hurt will sweep people completely out of the way like a flood with shock.

It behoves many that these stories be told at a convenient time and that what many may not understand about that others read to be habit and attitude might well be the ultimate act of self-preservation. We might be just a bit fucked-up, but we cope well, however, if you encroach too much on our space, do not be surprised when we firmly say, fuck-off!

Reflecting on the brutal rape of my childhood innocence

Instrumental inspiration

I just finished listening to the pianist James Rhodes being interviewed on BBC Radio 4’s FrontRow programme and as I have learnt from the many stories shared by many people on these kinds of programmes you find something that resonates.

James Rhodes had many things to say about creativity and mental illness, but more poignantly I was arrested by the saga behind the publication of his life story which depicted in quite graphic detail the sexual rape he endured from the age of six along with the atrocious abuse that it included.

Instrumental: A Memoir of Madness, Medication and Music (Guardian Review) [Amazon] became a subject of litigation when his ex-wife took out an injunction to prevent the publication of the book because she believed that the graphic detail in the book might be injurious to their 12-year old son.

The right to tell the truth

Whilst there probably is a case for this from a mother’s perspective as concerns the welfare of a child, the case that came before the Supreme Court in the UK concluded in the following quote by overturning the injunction that:

“A person who has suffered in the way that the appellant has suffered, and has struggled to cope with the consequences of his suffering in the way that he has struggled, has the right to tell the world about it. And there is a corresponding public interest in others being able to listen to his life story in all its searing detail.” [The Law Society Gazatte]

In the Supreme Court judgement, some of the words are as graphic as to be shocking in their content, yet therein lies a story that must be told as it is.

“You want to know how to rip the child out of a child? Fuck him.” [Judgement on Bailli]

My lost innocence

Now, I have written several blogs on the matter of child sexual abuse, the first of which I wrote on the 17^th of January, 2007, titled, My Sex Post and in it the only piece of information I gave away was that I had my first sexual experience at 7.

I have not mentioned who it was with, where it happened or what exactly happened, but that afternoon is as vivid in my memory as it could literally be played back in a film.

Child sexual abuse which happens quite frequently in Nigeria that we have found a fanciful word to spare our blushes in court to call the sexual abuse, rape and violation of a child defilement is a taboo subject in most cases.

The helplessness in abuse

I know of too many cases where an abused child has been silenced by people supposedly responsible for the child because of the embarrassment that the truth of what happened might bring upon that family, it becomes a hush-hush issue of shame that only a few get into the criminal justice system to feed the lascivious hunger of an outrageously voyeuristic media that has little concern for child involved as they print the salacious without conscience or compassion.

It might well be that this along with the tendency to either disbelieve or blame the victim that results in the child bottling up the abuse or where the abuse is revealed the belief is that besides medical intervention time will eventually make that ordeal fade from memory.

As a man, I know this is not the truth, I was violated by people my parents felt they had the obligation to care for and by those they brought into our home on trust that they will care for use as the adults in their absence.

The faults are many

Yet, whilst I cannot entirely fault my parents, the absence of curiosity on their part was damaging enough because I was not the only one abused and when they learnt of the abuse of another within our family setting they could have made enquiries and realised that at the age of 10 I was already sexually active for 3 years already.

In that is a number of stories I have mostly written in third person being slightly culturally restrained by the magnitude of what the truth of such narratives might have on people living who might be shocked to realise that not only is the memory as keen as it ever was, but also the fear for their realisation of that more could have been done that wasn’t.

Launching a catalogue of abuses

My first experience of sex which I had no idea of before came through this person and then three years later, my first experience of terrifying fear when I believed I saw an apparition of the devil came from things I heard this person say. The reality of my terror was dismissed by my father whilst I found myself pressganged into numerous unprintable religious and animist rituals to ward off evil spirits.

On reflection, what I needed was professional psychological or psychiatric help, but I was reading Psalms in a language I could not speak, visiting prophets, witch doctors and shamans who all had bizarre idea upon bizarre idea of potions, cuttings, baths, concoctions and much else that cost money but also was a secondary form of abuse in the guise of being helped and being cured.

Secrecy really has no place in this

Each of these events is a story I compelled to tell and yet afraid to write, but I can find one great consolation in the judgement that lifted the injunction on James Rhodes’s book.

Whilst the freedom of expression neither guarantees the freedom from responsibility for what is said or written nor the freedom from consequence for what is heard or read, in the words of Tamsin Allen, James Rhodes’ lawyer, “In overturning the injunction, the Supreme Court has reaffirmed the fundamental importance of the freedom to speak the truth, even if the truth is brutal or shocking.”

The fundamental freedom to speak the truth affirmed, even if the truth is brutal or shocking, and more so, ‘Secrecy has no place in this story’ and many other stories that need to be told of abuse, of rape, of violation, of neglect, of indifference and of the consequence of all this in the life of the child and as they child harbours all this cachet of a life of experience into adulthood.

Justice must not be denied through refusal

Piqued, but who cares?

Charles Taylor the former despotic and tyrannical president of Liberia who is being tried for crimes against humanity in The Hague, The Netherlands has refused to make an appearance at his trial.

I would spare a thought for those who could not refuse to be raped, those who could not refuse to lose their limbs and those who could not refuse to have their youth stolen from them in a war so savage and primitive, the world had to move.

The litany of crimes reads like the Spanish Inquisition was a joyride.

Acts of terrorism (WC)

Murder (CAH)

Violence to life, in particular murder (WC)

Rape (CAH)

Sexual slavery and violence (CAH)

Outrages upon personal dignity (WC)

Violence to life, in particular cruel treatment (WC)

Other inhumane acts (CAH)

Use of child soldiers (VIHL)

Enslavement (CAH)

Pillage (WC)

CAH: Crime against humanity

WC: War crime

VIHL: Violation of international humanitarian law

He must see justice

It would appear Charles Taylor wants to play the system such that his prosecution fails on technicalities - the presiding judge should brook none of this nonsense.

If he would not take representation, the more fool of a man who is being condemned and stays tongue-tied when his mission is in no way messianic.

What bothers me more is than The Daily Telegraph reports that court might not be adequately financed to see this case through - well, I think they are not being inspired and resourceful on this matter; where best would conflict diamonds be to any good if the moneys from selling those bloody jewels can be used to judge and punish a man with so much blood on his hands, the man who brought conscience to the diamond trade.

Charles Taylor must see justice and the decent world must ensure that his example is properly relayed to the Grand Despot of Africa - Robert Mugabe.