I've always been a quiet girl, keeping to myself, never causing any trouble. My mother, bless her soul, was my rock, my confidant, my everything. She was the one who held our family together after my father passed away. She remarried when I was 12, and I welcomed my stepfather into our lives, hoping he would be a good influence on me.
But things didn't turn out as I had hoped. My stepfather, a man I once trusted, began to prey on me. It started with subtle touches, then progressed to inappropriate comments, and finally, he forced himself on me. I was too scared to tell anyone, fearing that no one would believe me or that my mother would be heartbroken.
Now, two months pregnant, I'm at a crossroads. I don't know what to do or who to turn to. I'm writing this story to share my pain and confusion, hoping that someone out there can offer me guidance.
Lusaka, the bustling capital of Zambia, is where I live. The city is a mix of modernity and tradition, with towering skyscrapers standing alongside ancient temples. The air is filled with the scent of spices and the sound of laughter. But for me, it's a place of fear and uncertainty.
My days are spent in a blur of schoolwork and household chores, while my nights are filled with nightmares and tears. I've tried to hide my pregnancy, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. My clothes are starting to feel tight, and I'm constantly nauseous.
I've considered telling my mother, but I'm terrified of the consequences. I don't want to cause her any more pain, and I'm afraid she'll blame herself for marrying my stepfather. I've also thought about going to the police, but I'm not sure if they'll believe me or if they'll even care about a girl like me.
One day, while walking home from school, I pass by a small, nondescript building. A sign on the door reads 'Women's Support Center.' Curiosity gets the better of me, and I decide to go inside.
The center is warm and inviting, with soft lighting and comfortable chairs. A kind-looking woman greets me at the door and offers me a cup of tea. I hesitantly accept, and we sit down to talk.
I pour my heart out to her, telling her everything that's happened. She listens patiently, never once interrupting or judging me. When I'm finished, she tells me that I'm not alone and that there are people who can help me.
She explains that the center offers counseling, legal assistance, and medical care for women who have experienced sexual violence. She also tells me about the importance of reporting my stepfather to the police, not just for my sake but for the sake of other potential victims.
I leave the center feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, I'm grateful for the support and guidance I've received. On the other hand, I'm terrified of the road ahead. But I know that I can't keep living in fear and silence.
The next day, I gather my courage and tell my mother everything. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but she listens with an open heart and a fierce determination to help me. Together, we go to the police and report my stepfather.
The weeks that follow are a whirlwind of emotions. My stepfather is arrested and charged with rape, and I begin counseling to help me cope with the trauma. My mother is a pillar of strength, supporting me every step of the way.
As for the pregnancy, I decide to terminate it. It's a difficult decision, but I know that it's the right one for me. With the help of the Women's Support Center, I undergo a safe and legal procedure.
In the end, I emerge from this ordeal a stronger, more resilient person. I've learned that it's okay to ask for help and that there are people out there who care. I've also learned that speaking out against injustice is the first step towards healing and change.
My story may be long and painful, but it's also a testament to the power of hope and resilience. I share it in the hopes that it will inspire others to seek help and to stand up against the darkness that threatens to consume them.
And to the person who asked for my identity to be hidden, I want you to know that you are not alone. There are people out there who care and who will fight for you. Don't be afraid to reach out and ask for help. Your story deserves to be heard, and your voice deserves to be amplified
