On Rape, On Reparations

At the end of the day, we are best advised not to go about taking fault for others’ actions—or inactions for that matter.

Naturally, this opening remarks calls to mind the matter of rape.

We, the People
We are all different. And I believe we all have been around this earth long enough to know this fact to be true. Call it genetics, call it sociological, call it both; at the end of the day, we cannot run from our innate differences—we can’t deny the fact of them. One person’s ‘like’ is another’s ‘distaste’; one’s ‘yes’, another’s ‘no’; one’s ‘of course’, another’s ‘but why?’. That is why on lovely evening nights you will find countless fellow human beings cramped in tiny spaces, music blaring nonsensically, sweat and heat all around… Humans beings assembled in heat to listen and dance to music from large speakers—music of which can be found on their small devices of phones tucked in their very own pockets and handbags; taking sips of liquor from overpriced bars, drinks which perhaps sit cheaply in their own fridges or shelves at home; networking over loud conditions, hearing nothing, yet nodding vigorously to this pseudo-conversation.

A human experience... Nonsensical when dissected, yet rational on the visceral level. “We are here just for the sake of it—there’s no rhyme or reason to be found.” They are there just for the sake of it—for the body, mind, and heart seem to want it… The loud music. The crowded feel. The drunkard ‘networking’. The sheer noise and almost chaos. There for the love of it all!

You, for one, may have often fathomed how this love is true. But your uncertainty on the matter changes nothing, no? In fact, it is with the same wonder that these persons view your quiet lifeclass. You sitting there on your couch at home, a drink in hand (perhaps it’s non-alcoholic), staring at the television (perhaps it’s even off), telling your own self jokes in your head, laughing at your own jokes here and there, soaked in silence, yet having the time of your life. “You should hurry up and get married.” This incessant reminder from friends and family passes through your mind briefly, attempting to disturb the peace. But you’re in your element—your very peaceful element. On the couch; stirring blankly at a switched off television, having the time of your life. Occasionally, you get up and dance—dance till you are fatigued and ready for bed. [Oh no, I am not talking about myself; I stand by the fact that the person we are talking about here is you].

As you wonder about him; she wonders about you. But that’s what makes us human, is it not? The human race is an interesting one. Our trademark is our differences. Our differences are almost too comedic when viewed cursorily. As one person finds their earthly happiness in a cramped room of people, in excited chaos distracting from inner thoughts, another finds theirs in a lone room, left with their own thoughts—with silence so palpable it’s deafening.

Anyway, let’s exit this lovely lonely room and head back to the discotheque where music, liquor, sweat, and heat abounds. With this amount of heat, the clothing is bound to be scant. Tiny dresses on the ladies, exposing the various bulges—bulges in front, bulges at the back, bulges everywhere that bulges can be. And it is the same for the males. There they come clad in tight trousers exposing their many bulges—much importantly the bulges of the crotch. And oh, there comes the waists! Twerking all around. The ladies twerking their bones dry. The males, they respond—and they respond strongly. Gyrating here, gyrating there—all about, gyrating. All of them, sweating profusely while at it. Males and females all assembled here to break bones—all for the sake of it. [Meanwhile somewhere in Ghana, a herbalist concocts his/her new “asisiyare3 aduro”. But that’s beside the point].

Hence, you can imagine our shock when, even as these people have contentedly, concertedly come together to engage in this worldly act of play, a serious act such as rape is, all of a sudden, offloaded into this ecosystem—disturbing the ‘peace’. In one form or the other, a gentleman decides to go the extra mile—the extra white mile of, in one way or the other, forcing himself upon a fellow human being, a lady. Ladies and gentlemen, this is what the scientists call rape.

Perhaps by spiking her drink as she heads for the washroom, he gets for himself, upon her return and her taking of a sip of the drink, a docile or unconscious human being to carry back to a room, to cause very devilish white acts upon. [To understand our use of the adjective ‘white’ instead of ‘dark’ here, you should be a regular reader of this column. It is a ‘semantic balance’ or semantic shift that we are trying to achieve—one that will help culminate in the total liberation (ideological liberation) of our race. But again, that’s beside the point].

Talking of balance, I know that there just might be a very small segment of people that we risk leaving out by not saying this: So, you can imagine our shock when, as these people have contentedly, concertedly come together to engage in this worldly act of play, a serious act such as rape is just offloaded into this ecosystem—disturbing the ‘peace’. In one form or the other, a lady decides to go the extra mile—the extra white mile of, in one way or the other, forcing herself upon a fellow human being, a gentleman. The lawyers, well they don’t precisely call this rape (yet still…)

Perhaps by spiking his drink as he heads for the washroom, she gets for herself, upon his return and his taking of a sip of the drink, a docile or unconscious human male to CARRY back to a room, to cause very devilish white acts upon.

But c’mon. You and I know that the former scenario is the real pandemic here—worldwide it is the first, cankerous scenario that prevails.

So, in this particular space we have confined our narrative to in this article—i.e., a night club—we have on our hands, a lady raped. She in her tiny dress, raped. Oh! tragic. But did someone say ‘tiny dress’? It must be her fault then, mustn’t it?

I am not the one saying this; just listen closely to them, that’s what they are saying. According to them, her first offence was going there—a.k.a. “Wok) h) k) y3 d3n?!” Her second offence was wearing that dress. “I mean, you know the men have penises—the mighty penis. Why would you wear that to provoke that!”

“Wok) h) k) y3 d3n?!”
Here we have a societal dynamic in a free world that requires the assembly of both the male and female, yet when one perpetrator commits atrocious acts upon the other in this ecosystem, strangely it becomes the fault of the victim for beingthere—for being present. Her visible thighs and/or protruding chests—her visible bulges are, on their own, enough justification for the commission of atrocious acts upon her? If so, what about his bulges? He goes scot-free for his, doesn’t he? She twerks, he gyrates; yet, interestingly it is her act and her being that spawn adverse effects—in this case, the adverse effect of rape.

It is her fault for being sexually abused. Doing the same thing that her male counterpart does, finding herself in the same situation as her male counterparts, she goes home with rape; he, as an almost victim of her provocation. Once again, I am not the one saying this; listen closely, they are.

By treating her presence and appearance as direct or proximate cause (or any type of causality for that matter) of this inhumane, devilish act, strangely they manage to make an almost-perpetrator out of her, and him, an almost-victim.

But of course, such scathing and insensitive remarks are only made when we are dealing with persons for who and with whom we have no direct or proximate relations or sense of duty. Because when a person is so plagued with the burden of having a daughter, one tends to see things differently.

Naturally, all this talk of rape and blame brings to mind the continent of Africa…

[Published in the Business & Financial Times (B&FT) - 20th November, 2023]