“You will hear from my lawyers.”

When I told my cousin about it, I could feel the fumes coming out of her nostrils. She was angry at you. And that was the comfort I needed.

Why?

She didn’t blame me.

She described it as a theft of consent. And you knew what you were doing when I was unaware that you were going to stick your thing inside of me.

She advised me to confront you about it. And though I’ve been fighting that thought for weeks, I knew confronting you was the first step to my healing.

Then I approached you. I told you that it was unfair of you to “force” yourself on me like that. I didn’t want to use the word “rape” because it felt too heavy. I shouldn’t have played nice.

And instead of you to understand my side of the story, you pulled the “you will hear from my lawyers” card. I knew that card too well, the abuser’s favourite line. You thought you could scare me. You thought you could shut me up.

But to hell with it.

After I finished narrating the incident to our lawyers, your lawyer spoke first.

“That doesn’t sound like rape to me.” Was his first response.

My heart dropped. Like a ball dropping from a skyscraper.

“You raised a green flag by letting him touch and kiss you.” He added, “Madam, let’s be real, are you threatening my client with rape accusations because of your bitterness?”

Before I could respond, he chuckled while leaning closer to whisper, “Or is it because he served you breakfast?”

I slapped him and used a screwdriver to screw his dirty mouth together. In my imagination.

In reality, I couldn’t. Because if I did, this meeting would be pointless.

“No offence but I agree with him on this one.” My lawyer agreed with your lawyer, “If you really didn’t want it, you could have just pushed him off or yelled. It’s not that hard.”

My eyes were glued to the table, not believing my ears. My own lawyer was defending a rapist. My rapist.

There was a long, intense silence in the atmosphere. Or maybe it was just me that was in this silence.

Our lawyers’ mouths were still moving but I could not hear a single word. Your eyes glistened at the thought of these men defending you.

One after the other, I looked at the three men sitting around me. My lawyer. Your lawyer. And you. All stuck in your own universe. Not giving way to step foot into mine.

In your universe, you were made to believe everything you said and did was right. All because of some stellar reputation you have acquired, you believed the world was at your feet. And when you stand to be corrected, you described the world as grey. You would say there was no such thing as black and white, evil and good. You believed the two could be mixed to justify your actions. Only your action.

But when it came to my body’s desire, you would say otherwise. You would say my body’s desire was not a switch. It could not be turned on and off as I please. Once on, it must remain there until you were done with it.

But I am here to tell you,

“Shut the fuck up.” I blurted out.

All three of you stopped to look at me in shock. Whether it was because I used a swear word, or because you could never imagine a woman having the audacity to put you in your place. But I didn’t care.

My eyes were fixated on you, Mr Predator.

You could smell it, my rage.

“I didn’t bring you here to seek justice. That will just be a waste of time in this bloody country.” I said through gritted teeth.

I stretched out my hands to the table, “I came here because my voice is the last piece of dignity I have left for you. I know you will never respect me. I know you will never see me as a person. All you see is a sex object and nothing more. Fuck it. That’s just your illusion of me. That’s not who I am.”

The two lawyers shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They felt suffocated and I could tell they couldn’t wait to leave this room.

“You raped me. And you will never convince me otherwise.” I said lastly before turning to our lawyers, “I rest my case.”

I banged my hands on the table and stood up. Then I did the last thing I imagined I would ever do.

I stretched out my hand to you.

You looked at my opened hand in confusion, even though the message was clear.

“Just shake it.” Your lawyer whispered to you encouragingly. “Can’t you see God is on your side? She’s letting you walk free.”

You chuckled in disbelief as your eyes were glued to mine. You stood up with that arrogant smirk on your face and shook my hand in return.

“Whatever you say, ashawo.” You whispered the last word loud enough, it didn’t sound like a whisper.

“I hope we never meet again, bastard.”

I yanked my hands away from you and left the office without looking back.

There were no tears left to cry. No pain left to feel.

I shut the door of my car and started the engine. I glanced up at the office building one last time to see you standing by the window, smiling wryly as you watched me leave the office.

I drove off without giving you any acknowledgment.

It had been over an hour since I left that dreadful meeting. I had already reached the outskirt of Lagos, passing through tall bushes and thick trees, when suddenly, I saw your call.

I fixed my eyes on the road, ignoring your call.

You called again. And again. And again.

Your lawyer bombarded my phone with text messages.

My lawyer’s number did not stop buzzing after yours.

My lips curved into a wry smile.

The deed was done.

What have you done to my leg?!

Bitch where are you?!

Answer the fucking phone!

I’m going to kill you!

Your messages were endless, so would be your search for me.

I gave you one last chance to redeem yourself, but you refused. You had no idea you were shaking the hands of your worst nightmare.

From now on, you would wake up every morning with a horse leg.

Yes, two stiff legs and a tail.

And you would never ever be able to fuck, no, rape another woman again.

I laughed in glory as my phone kept buzzing non-stop. Who knew the babalawo (witch doctor) in my village had this much power to turn a simple handshake into jazz. He had sent one of his apprentices to deliver this magnificent sorcery in a hand cream.

And now, I ride back to my village with the babalawo’s apprentice and all my personal belongings in the back seat. I am going to a place you will never find me. And even if you did look for me, what you did would be exposed to the world. It was a lose-lose situation for you.

I slowed down my car and removed the SIM Card from my phone and broke it into pieces before throwing it out the window. I turned off my phone and began my journey once again.

The journey to my freedom... and the beginning of your captivity.

I hope you live the rest of your life in misery, you fucking rapist.