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To the survivors chapter 1

To the survivors

Written by : Biola Olatunde
Inspired by the book of the same Title written by Robert Uttaro
Chapter 1 What is rape?

My name is Biola Olatunde. I have the pleasure to invite you to this series ‘To the Survivors’ we will discuss issues of rape, domestic violence, sexual violence, what the survivors and their families go through, government reaction, policies and society’s responsibilities in the epidemic
At the end of each chapter, we will appeal that you send in your reaction, thoughts, suggestion and even share experiences. If it is an experience, we will keep the details confidential and use the writer’s right to dramatize your experience.
All characters in the drama are fictitious and have no bearing on any person or location.
We have aired it on the radio as a series and we are hoping to make it available on YouTube or an internet radio soon.
I need you to help. I hope when you have read, you will wish to donate so we can continue to air this programme for long enough for it to make sense
Olayinka is a young girl in her twenties in her last year of university. Naturally, she is eager to find herself a job in the labour market. When she received an invitation from a stepbrother in law for a job interview in another city she jumps at it. However what happened was a nightmare she never planned. The prospective employer took her to his house, repeatedly raped her and left her half dead at a bus stop.
Mrs. Roberts closing from work finds her and takes her to the hospital
‘I am doomed’ was the repeated question of Olayinka as Mrs. Roberts tries to get some details from her. In tears herself at the brutality and callousness of the rapist, Mrs. Roberts takes the case up and offers to pay the medical bills.
‘But how do we identify this rapist or better still who will come for this young woman? Somebody somewhere is looking for her daughter’ Mrs. Roberts tells her husband, hours after she got home dispirited and sad.
Banji hugs his wife close and reassures her that they should see if there is a number on the dead phone. So they charge the phone and sure enough, the young woman had received 39 missed calls from a particular number. Mrs. Roberts called the number. A mature female voice asks anxiously after Olayinka
Olayinka! I have been calling you? Where have you been?, the voice demanded the minute the call went through
Are you a relative of the owner of this phone? Mrs. Roberts asked tentatively
I am her mother, please put Olayinka on the phone’ the voice demanded
Mrs. Roberts sighed ‘I am sorry Ma, but your daughter is in hospital, she will need you to be with her as soon as you can madam
There was dead silence, then in a small voice, ’What is wrong with her, is she at the clinic or at the general hospital?
She is at a private hospital Madam, she was abandoned at a bus stop here in Akure and I found her during a heavy storm last night Ma. Please come to Oak Hospital
The line goes dead and Mrs. Roberts has tears in her eyes, as she looks at her husband.
‘That is a most horrible news you can ever give a mother’
The next morning a slim middle-aged woman knocks at the office of Mrs. Roberts. One look at a tired drawn face indicated that she had had a very bad night. Mrs. Roberts was very sympathetic as she explained. As the shock of what had been done to her daughter left her face it was replaced by horror at reporting the rape to law enforcement agents.
Olayinka’s mother was increasingly reluctant to report the matter to the police.
She insisted that her husband will more likely disown the daughter if it became a police case.
She was adamant until Mrs. Roberts pointed out the greater need of Olayinka and Olayinka’s right as human being to justice.
The system of a community or family that will condone a crime rather than help a rape survivor is called to question.
Do we really care enough?
The police demand that a raped victim should come as they are. In the traumatic state of having been raped?
The hospital will refuse to treat a raped survivor unless there was a police clearance report
What do you think?

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Blood Contract

This book is now printed and available in Nigeria, a gesture of faith and trust.
Excerpt from the book
“My name is Tonbra; Papa thinks you may not have had
dinner, so he sent me to make one for you. The fish is okay,” she
said with a laugh.
“Hmm…Who is Papa?”
“Your father and mine, I am your half sister!”
Ken stared at her in shock, and then he looked at the food.
“No, it is not poisoned,” she said, amused.
Ken smiled, sat down and opened the bowls. “How old are
“As old as the time you left.”
“Had to leave!” he snapped, angry with her for bringing up a
past he would rather forget. Besides, he didn’t owe her any
explanation. Damn it, he thought, she is just a girl. You don’t explain
your actions to a girl.
“Yeah, I heard the entire story.”
“Are you still in school?” he curiously asked.
“Which school?”
He looked at her again. “You did not go to school?”
“I did, your school.”
“Sphinx! Tell me.” He liked her style of speech and the fact
that she was not awed by a big brother.
They tried to bridge a gap of fifteen years as they chatted
while he ate. It was later that he became conscious of the time and
insisted on escorting her to the house. He walked quietly back to
the longhouse and was asleep in minutes, something he had not
been able to do that easily in years.

The next morning he was standing by the beach watching the
sea waves. He walked to his boat and got it ready to put out to
sea. There had been a message from the elders that they wished
him to wait until the next day before the meeting could continue.
When the directive came, he had shrugged; it was all part of the
business. One step forward two steps back. He now had a day
stretched out with nothing particular he wanted to do.
He decided he might as well go around the other islands and
see a bit of the place. Maybe he might pick up some local news on
the grapevine about the kidnapping. His people were normally
close mouthed about things like that, but since he was a son of the
soil, he felt his people might relax enough to tell him a few things.
It also gave him the opportunity to see a bit of neglect. It was
usual to have a representative of the community in an institution
the Federal Government had set up which they called
‘Development Unions’. The elders had always tried to get
effective representation. However, it was always just a shallow,
toothless representation; the government had learned the art of
divide and rule so well, that you never really knew who was
taking the cream off the community. It was the reason the people
were so angry.
A boat moving very fast was coming ashore. Ken was angry
that the idiot was going to splash him with sea water, then saw it
was his half-­‐‑sister stepping out from the boat. He was impressed
by her dexterity. “I see you are a show off as well. You took your
time this morning.”
Tonbra laughed as she got out of the boat and walked up to
him. “I had things to do; you feel better?”
“Really? What could you be doing in this filth?”

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