If you have the privilege as a woman to never have been sexually abused or assaulted, it might be difficult for you to understand the mixed emotions you might have towards your abuser. Let me explain better. When someone you love or admire assaults you, you might not hate them immediately, heck, you might never hate them at all. It's difficult to go from admiration and love to hate. It's also a very exhausting process. When my favourite person in the world, outside of my nuclear family assaulted me when I was barely 8 years old, I didn't know how to feel. I was pretty close to my mum so I just had to tell her. Before I did, I made her promise to not flair up. I didn't want my abuser to feel ‘bad'. Obviously, she flared up and banished him from visiting or sleeping over. This was very difficult for all of us because we really loved this person. His mum (of blessed memory) was my favourite aunt and my mum's closest sister. My brothers also didn't know what happened at the time so they didn't understand why he was banished. The next time I met him at a family function, I was worried sick that he would hate me. To give context, this man is about 20 years older than me. I remember how relieved I was when he smiled at me. It meant he didn't hate me. It's been about 15 years since this thing happened and although he took the time to apologize to me when I was much older, I almost can't stand him. It was like one day, a switch flipped in my head and I instantly became angry. But even then, sometimes I still admire him. It's really exhausting. While interning in a broadcast outfit when I was 18, I went to get this exclusive interview with a (now dead) well-known and loved musician. Apart from the fact that he was loved by the general public, I also really loved his music. The interview took place in an apartment. First, we watched him play his instrument and I videoed the whole thing with a smile plastered on my face. I couldn't wait to show my father. I was watching this man play live! This legend! Throughout my stay there, this entertainer kept looking at me funny and making inappropriate sexual comments. I was starting to get uncomfortable but we were so many in the apartment so I didn't really feel threatened. While trying to leave the apartment, this man rushed behind me, held me behind and groped me. I tried to get away from him but he held me firmly. I almost had to be forced away from his grip after I raised an alarm and I immediately ran outside. I really admired this man. I loved his music but I was highly irritated. When I got home, I still showed my family the video before I dropped the bomb. I went to bed that night watching the videos of the talented musician that I really admired with mixed feelings. The days that followed weren't any better. I had to conduct vox-pops on this man, asking people what they loved about him. I didn't even know how to feel. When he died and I kept seeing the news everywhere, all I could remember was the humiliating incident. My best friend asked me if I was okay, and my mother told me how uncomfortable she felt seeing everyone worship the man and was wondering how I felt about it. How did I feel? Was I glad that he had died? Did I hate him or dislike him? Honestly, no. Do I still think his music is great? Yes. Would I listen to his songs? Maybe. Sometimes I think about these unfortunate experiences and I'm angry with myself for not hating my abusers. I should hate them right? Imagine not knowing how to feel about a terrible thing someone has done to you because you remember all the good that they have done. If you're feeling this way, I just want to let you know that it's okay to feel what you feel. Sometimes you hate them and sometimes you don't. But don't ever beat yourself up about feeling any type of way. If you feel like you can forgive them, it's fine but if you can't forgive them, that's equally okay. I've heard people talk about how it is impossible to heal from abuse if you don't forgive your abuser but I've also read too many articles that say otherwise. People shouldn't tell you how to feel about these things, it's pretty complex so it's okay to heal at your own pace.

Jump, Now!!! Those words rang in my head, as I took a drastic decision that changed my life for the better. 28th February, 2014, remains imprinted on my mind to this very day. I was a grade ten student of Bright Stars Model Secondary School. I had a couple of good friends, read my books, and made sure to be the perfect kind of son my parents wanted, I wanted. It was about 4pm on the said date, we had just finished our last class for the day, as the exhausted students scurried out of the school premises—the euphoria evident in them as they longed for home. I packed up my bags, said goodbye to my friends and boarded a tricycle home. I sat in-between a plump woman and a mid-sized dude. We had just passed a green traffic light, when an SUV in front of us collided with a minibus, as the bus tumbled to the side, crashing down on the pavement. Our driver tried to manoeuvre his way, in an attempt to avoid bashing the SUV. Just as he narrowly missed the SUV and drove onto the sidewalk, I saw this big tree, looming in front of us. Surrounded by a carpet of merciless granite stones, the thick, dense tree, situated itself a few inches from our tricycle. My thought at that fleeting moment in time, was that our vehicle was going to impinge on the tree and we would all be dead. The dude beside me jumped out, and without thinking, I followed suit, jumping out of a moving vehicle. That was a life-threatening decision I made in seconds. I closed my eyes and leapt out, face first onto the granite ground. Miraculously, I landed on my knapsack, as it scraped through the granite with fierce force. I was left with only a shallow wound but nothing serious. The event of that day marked a turnaround in my life. Two weeks after the accident—on my way back from school—I decided to head down to the University of Uyo Teaching Hospital, Uyo, Akwa Ibom State, Nigeria. I went to the Accident/Emergency unit, my heart sank. I saw a whole lot of helpless, hopeless people, most of them lacking limbs. The looks on their weary faces sent chills running down my spine. I had always considered myself a staunch believer in how blessed I was, but that day showed me I had a whole lot more to be grateful to God for. I met this particular girl named Grace. She has lovely brown eyes and a cute smile, about 5'2 in height. She recently turned nine. When I got to know her well, I discovered that she suffered from a fatal car accident, one which wiped out her immediate nuclear family, leaving her as the only survivor. Her kneecap got smashed in, rendering her unable to walk. Her maternal aunt takes care of her at the hospital. I made it a point of duty since then, to always visit the hospital twice a month and make anonymous donations from my little savings, mostly to Grace's aunt for her welfare. A friend once said to me, “you start living—not just being alive—when you impact positively, on the lives of others.” It's starting to make a whole lot more sense to me now. I feel in a way, the accident made me a better version of myself, one that now views the privilege of life, as an avenue to help those on the verge of losing theirs. Surviving a ghastly car accident has taught me a few things in life, one being that life is fleeting, and can be cruelly snatched away at any instant of time. I believe in helping the needy. Each time I walk past a ward and see a kid I anonymously donated funds to, playing and jumping around happily, it gives me some sense of self-accomplishment (knowing I've been able to impact one more life). In my subconscious, the sayings of John Bunyan come alive, “you have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.”

My name is Kayla Armstrong and I grew up in a home where it was just my mother and not my father. I grew up with a lot of hate and anger but kept it all inside. My mother had me at the age of 22 and it was only her and I up until now. My childhood was amazing, adventurous, and happy. By the time I was 12 my mother met someone, someone who made her laugh, smile, and was always loving to her. They married later on and I was happy for my mother because we had a family and I finally had a father figure. By 15 my mother had gotten pregnant and I was excited to be a big sister, but our home collapsed and my mother's happy marriage turned into something different and there was no love anymore between my stepfather and mother because of his affairs. Not long after I became a victim of rape. By age 15 1/2 my stepfather molested me and threatened me with different things to keep me from saying anything. I was a different person and not the "Kayla” I used to be. I was a freshman in high school and wasn't able to live my life because of something I thought was my fault. I lived in silence and I became silent. My reasons for not saying anything was because I was scared that my mom wouldn't believe me, my sister would grow up and think I caused it, I didn't want anyone to think there was something mentally wrong with me just because of it, and I didn't want to be killed for saying something. By age 16 my mom divorced my stepfather because of the affairs and lies my stepfather told her. I was still silent and I was living in guilt. I couldn't have boyfriends because of being scared that they would do something to me and I couldn't trust anyone at all. My appearance changed as well and I went from wearing shorts to wearing sweats and baggy clothes all the time. I never wanted to be with a guy alone in an elevator or anywhere because I was scared that they would do something to me. Throughout the two years of being violated, I was having nightmares. My nightmares caused me to stay up all night. By age 16 1/2 I told my mother what happened to me and all the things my stepfather did to me and I felt free because immediately she took my side. The next morning we went to the police station and I felt scared at the same time because I didn't want him to come after me. My mother also put me in therapy which helped me to become stronger because I learned it wasn't my fault and he was the one with problems, not me. Throughout the process of the investigation, I was diagnosed with sleep paralysis and PTSD along with also finding out that I may not be able to have children in the future because of the damage my stepfather did. Over the course of my healing, I started doing outreach to young girls who went through the same things as me. I now mentor young girls from ages 7-14 years old to help them heal from the terrible things that happened to them and help them become a better person. My stepfather did horrible and unspeakable things to me, but at the same time, it was a blessing afterward because I became wiser and stronger and never realized that girls in my own neighborhood and even girls who sit next to me are going through the same things I went through. I overcame two long miserable years and used that to help make myself stronger, wiser, beautiful spiritually, mentally and physically, and more intelligent. I was able to become my own person again and wear what I wanted to wear and be a new "Kayla" without caring what others thought of me. Not only that but my mother and I became stronger and our bond can never be broken because she has been by my side my whole life. My little sister and I also have a great relationship and she loves me and looks up to me and I know in my heart our relationship will be strong as well. I am now 17 years old and junior in high school. I am in a beautiful and strong relationship with a young man I can trust my life with and who accepts me for my flaws and scars and helps me become a better person every day and I am also a mentor and inspire young girls to speak up and teach them that they have power as well. Today in 2018 my stepfather has a trial coming up and no matter if I get justice or not I already got justice because I became more powerful and stronger than him with my words and I am free from any guilt and fear that I used to have.