It was a frightening experience. I can never forget it.
Blame me. Yes.
I was too free, too trusting, too unsuspecting..
I had no idea when the door was shut. I didn't realize that the other residents of the house were 'out'. I didn't know that I was trapped.
The realization of these facts came all at once. I couldn't think straight. I looked into the face of my 'captor', it was set.
My tears made no difference, my power was 'nonexistent' against his, my screams reached nowhere.
I tried to use the voice of reason. For where? He didn't even listen. His grip was strong, firm. He wasn't letting go.
I looked down... More tears. This was trouble!
James was my captor. He was my neighbor in school. James was known as a Christian, a regular, committed church attendee. He was considered to be disciplined. He was the kind who wouldn't even 'play' with those of the opposite sex.
We had gotten into a discussion about a particular Bible character. The discussion extended to include other characters, doctrines and stuff. There were arguments sometimes. Jegede Olutayo was part of this discussion.
I can't remember how, but somehow, it remained the two of us - James and I. I suspected nothing until......
The door was shut. Here was I alone with my captor. He was determined. That kind of determination that can not be stopped. He was strong, way stronger than I was.
At first, he tried to plead. "Grace, please, help me. Please. I'm hard. Don't leave me like this. Please, I love you". I wondered how quickly the narrative moved from something serious to this.. I couldn't understand.
I responded like I knew how to. My voice made it clear that I was not going to succumb..
James resorted to force. I struggled. I cried.
I couldn't imagine what was about to happen. I pleaded. Oh, how I pleaded and wept that day!
My mind flashed to my husband (then fiance). Even though the love was strong between us, we had both done our best to keep things the way they should. Why would a beast have this advantage?
I was as scared as hell. He unzipped. I almost died. I shouted, I called for help, none responded. My wrists were already hurting from his firm grip on them. I was powerless against him. He was going to have his way..
Suddenly, a knock on the door. I tried to shout again but he placed his hands over my mouth. I continued trying. I didn't hear the knock, he did.
The knocking continued, audible to him alone. Then he started shouting, "Who is there? Who is there?"
Then, he quickly zipped up.
Suddenly, he knelt down and started begging me, telling me he was sorry, telling me it was the devil. I kept pointing to the door. Just open the damn door!
He insisted I promise that I would not report him. I promised. Yes, I actually promised. It was my chance to freedom. While all this was going on, he kept telling the person at the door, "I'm coming ma'am".
He opened the door to let her in...
Nobody.
He went out. Nobody. He asked around. Nobody came to the house. He was confused.
Me? I ran out. I didn't wait. I disappeared.
My mum called me a few minutes after..
"Are you fine? Are you sure? I had a burden to pray for you. I have prayed. The victory is won!"
Wow.
Wow.
The power of a sensitive and praying mother.
The power of a sensitive and praying parent.
Are you praying for your children?
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