Emotional Rape

Rape is such a bad thing. Whenever I hear or read about rape, anger boils within me. For a man to stoop so low as to defile the most beautiful of all creatures ever created is beyond my comprehension. But it happens. The perpetrators get locked up and we feel that justice has been served, at least on the surface, where smiles can easily mask the pain that shatters the poor victim’s heart into a million and one pieces.

I don’t know how a girl feels like when she is raped. But I surely know how a guy feels like. For I have been raped before. Now please don’t try explaining to me how it is physiologically impossible for a guy to be raped. I know the biology involved in copulation well enough. And I am not talking about physical rape.

I am talking about emotional rape.

When I was a teenager, I read a great book on dating titled, Dateable. It taught teenagers how to become dateable. I have forgotten most of what was in that book, but one thing I have never forgotten was the statement, “Girls give the physical to get the emotional. Guys give the emotional to get the physical.” If you don’t believe it, go have a serious chat with some teenagers. Ask them what they want in a mate.

The girl will say, “I want someone who cares about me, someone who will understand me and holds me.” She won’t talk about sex. Reason: girls don’t have sex. They make love. She wants a guy who will kiss her tenderly and give her warm, cuddly hugs. Very emotional.

But the guy will say, “I want someone who is great in bed.” Of course if he is shy he will first circle around this answer, giving you a long paragraph of nonsensical words before settling down to one thing: sex. For the guy, all other reasons come fourth, after sex, sex and more sex. Very physical.

Then they go to church and the pastor tells them that they cannot have sex until they are married. The pastor says that the Bible says so. No discussion expected.

The girl does a victory dance. At least she is sure the guy who will lay his hands on her will have to first commit to her by taking her to church for a church wedding, white satin gowns, flowers, jewelry and all.

The guy smiles. Isn’t it such a nice thing to first get married before having sex? Well, if God says so. But that is before he gets into a relationship with his dream girl.

A few months later, guy meets girl. The sparks fly, the butterflies fly and a full-blown romance starts. The guy is so caring. He understands her and even makes her laugh. He holds her and gives her warm, cuddly hugs. The girl couldn’t dream of a better relationship. She has got all she ever dreamed of.

Meanwhile, the guy has not yet realized what he has always dreamed of since the onset of puberty. They can’t have sex until they get married. The Bible says so.

That is when the emotional rape begins.

While the girl gets emotionally satisfied, the guy can’t get physically satisfied. He feels emotionally raped, the same way a girl would feel physically raped if the guy got physical satisfaction from her but never gave her emotional satisfaction.

Unfortunately, the guy doesn’t even realize that he’s being raped over and over again. There is no section in the penal code that describes emotional rape and provides legal action against it. Even if he realized that he was being raped, who would he report to? What evidence would he present? Unlike bruised vaginal walls, bruised hearts cannot be examined.

And when he asks for sex, he is labeled a jerk. He is called selfish. And the emotional rape continues while he suffers silently.


By the way, have you gotten yourself a copy of my new ebook? If not, get it here

The Hymn

About three years ago, I entered my dad’s car and rode with him to Jinja. To be a little more accurate, I was dragged to Jinja. And as I entered his car, I felt like my life as I knew it was about to end, like I had fallen off a cliff and was careening to a very certain death—the death of my dreams of writing.

My dreams of writing were being sacrificed at the altar of a more honourable vocation—Hotel Management—and I was being driven to the best hotel training institute (or so, I am told) in Uganda.

We had just driven a few metres away from home when the last verse of Amazing Grace hit me like a meteor falling from the sky.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years

Bright shining as the stars

We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise

Than when we first began.

Those four lines played over and over in my mind, each line warming my heart and filling me with an inexplicable joy as I sat next to my dad.

“Are you ok?”

My dad had seen the silly grin on my face.

I immediately wiped it off and nodded. Yes, I was ok. I was more than ok.

I was given a place at The Hotel and Tourism Training Institute. The course would take me three years. And though I didn’t know how I would study Hotel Management for three years, I knew that three years were just a molecule of time in comparison to eternity.

Dad called me every single day for the first month of school. He was worried that I might throw in the towel after a few weeks of school.

I didn’t throw in the towel. I completed my three years. My last paper was on Friday. And I entered my bed at 6am this morning after spending the night out with my friends.

***

This morning I went to church. For the first time, I was twenty minutes late. I was surprised that I didn’t doze through the sermon. But I guess it was because I was excited to be leaving Jinja after three years of school. I couldn’t wait for church to end so I could go and pack my bags. Dad is picking me up in the evening.

After the sermon ended, we stood up for the closing hymn: Amazing Grace.

Even For A Fleeting Second

I’d give anything

to see your face

Light up in a smile

Even for a fleeting second

Even for a fleeting second

I’d give anything

To be with you

Longer than life

Even for a fleeting second

Even for a fleeting second

I’d give anything

To love you

Unconditionally

Even for a fleeting second

Even for a fleeting second

I’d give anything

To open up my heart

And share love

Even for a fleeting second

Even for a fleeting second

Please Don't Read This!

I have just completed writing my exams for this semester. Some of them were not written, though. They were a little more practical, with one of them involving chopping onions, whisking eggs and grilling steak. But “writing” is the only English word I could think of right now, since I am on a vacation from thinking anything academic.

I really have nothing to write, other than to say that I am excited. There are times in life when I am so deep into stuff that I fail to realize that everything comes to an end. Two days ago I couldn’t dream that these exams would be over. Now here I am, on my bed, bored and writing a very pointless blog post. Only reason I am writing it is because the movies I got from a friend of mine failed to play on my pc.

Maybe I’m also writing because it is ages since I last posted here. And I kinda feel guilty about it. I know I am supposed to be a writer, but life can bog me down sometimes that I even forget who I am.

I guess I should also blame Facebook and Twitter. These sites make micro-blogging so easy. I don’t have to think something through, dig up some research before writing out a readable blog. All I need to do is write two long sentence with two typos and the burden to write is suddenly lifted off of me.

I never make New Year’s resolutions, but maybe for next year, I should resolve to write more on this blog and gain a larger audience. It would stroke my ego, you know. But for right now, I guess I should stop babbling and go back to Facebook and see what happened there while I was away.

If you read this, then something is wrong with you, because I am sure you didn’t gain a thing, apart from spending your time reading a meaningless blog post. I promise I’ll never write like this again.

Forgive me?

I Walked in the Rain

I walked in the rain

A gentle drizzle on my head

Cooling my brain

And washing away the headache

I walked in the rain

Gently pattering rain

Blurring my vision

And washing away the reality

I walked in the rain

Large, ominous drops

Seeping through skin

And washing away the loneliness

I walked in the rain

Cats and dogs and more

Raping my senses

And washing away the innocence

Getting Comfortable With Writer's Block

I haven’t written in quite a while now. There is this huge case of writer’s block that I am nursing. It was nagging at first. Then I got comfortable with it. Now I even play with it. I’m starting to think it is normal. Right now, I’m only writing to tell you that the reason I haven’t been writing is because of the writer’s block. So don’t expect this to be a good piece.

So what have I been up to? I’ve been very, very busy. I’m not sure of what kept me so busy. But my mind has been in overdrive these past few weeks. I haven’t been able to read a book to completion. I haven’t even posted as often on Facebook as I am expected to post. Lately, I share other people’s posts. I share so much that it’s freaking me out!

My heart has been in an emotional blender. I’m still recovering from the experience. So I guess that has also contributed to my writer’s block. I was scared of writing, lest I opened up my heart and the whole world got to know what’s inside. I actually tried it, but I pulled down the blog post before it had been read by 10 people. It was too personal for my own liking.

Lately, I’ve gotten to enjoy the friendship of people around me. I sing at church. I try to make new friends. I’ve even been able to say hi to a few strangers while hiding behind a disposable cup of soda after Sunday service. There is a girl who is smiling so much at me every Sunday. I think she likes me.

That doesn’t mean I’ve become religious all of a sudden. Actually, I’m shedding more and more religion every day. I no longer go to church as a duty. I go because of the people there. And because I’ve realized I can still sing. I’m tired of being lonely. That reminds me. It’s a long time since I last had a drink. Someone needs to take me out soon.

I wrote a book. The title is “What If God Doesn’t ReallyLove You?” I was so excited about it. But my friends have been asking what happened to it since I’ve been quiet about it of late. Well, it is still in the works.  I’m sorry I haven’t talked about it in a long time. There has been a lot going on, I’ve even forgotten some of the stuff I wrote in that book. But I should get it out sometime soon. Maybe I’ll offer a free e-book download for you all here. Keep looking out for it.

I’m thinking so hard about starting to write a novel in December. By then the writer’s block better be lifted, otherwise I’ll strangle it with my bare hands!

So friends, if you’ve been missing my blog posts and my chronic online presence, know that I still exist. I love you. And I’ll be back as soon as I get tired of being comfortable with my writer’s block.

You Are More Than Your Tears

When the sun is in the sky

I see the new day

As for blue skies

I see grey shadows

When nobody around

Sees through my pain

And the last person I need

Tends to walk away

When I see no hope for tomorrow

And every step is a drag

When my tears fall like rain

And all I try to eat

Tastes like pepper

I want to run

From myself

Where do I run to?

To whom do I run?

When I try to pray

And no words can form

When every effort to praise

Leaves me more depressed

When I think of me

I am so broken

I’m like shattered glass

Sometimes I know not what

At times I know

And in the stillness of night

And the turmoil of day

He comforts me

Gently whispers

I am more than your tears

For you are more than your tears