Before Dawn

Thud! Thud! I heard the sound of a scuffle and moving furniture. It came from the apartment above ours. I had heard that sound before, it was like being thrown into a time past. It was the sound that still haunts my dreams and will haunt me forever. I was engulfed by a myriad of emotions – fear, anger, and pain, piercing through the heart I thought was dead.

Then, I heard her scream and plead, just like I did only a few months ago. I stood there frozen, tears streaming down my face. I could have done something, maybe call for help but I didn't do anything.

****************

"Is it not that Amanda girl? Hehe, because she's tall and pretty, and boys flock around her, she is pumped," she scoffed. 'Let me see who will chase her now that she's damaged goods,' the girl said, laughing.

'Who knows? She probably threw herself at the man, yet now claims that he raped her.'

Those were the words spoken by Jennifer, the girl I called my best friend for 12 years. I had been standing outside the door to their apartment about to knock when the words came. Now, I've been indoors for the past two weeks, too ashamed to go out. The few times, some of the kids were sneering and making crude jokes at me. I had gone to Jennifer's house to seek solace, knowing her parents would have gone out.

After the incident that happened two weeks before then, I thought nothing would hurt me again. Yet, hearing those words inflicted a wound so deep. It hurt more than everything else that might have happened. We've been friends since kindergarten, and we lived in the same compound – a block of flats her father owned. We went to the same school, had the same friends, and did almost everything together. People called us sisters, thick as thieves we were.

It all started when I joined the youth choir in church. We had a new Assistant Pastor who also coordinated the youth choir. He was kind and friendly, and I noticed he picked interest in me. I didn't mind the attention at all. I was 21 and never had a boyfriend before. He was more responsible and well-spoken than all the boys who had approached me in the past.

I encouraged the pursuit, getting involved in every activity in the church so he would notice me. Jennifer didn't approve of my antics. She told me she didn't like Pastor Toby because she felt he was not genuine. I chalked it up to her usual jealousy, and I didn't pay any attention to her. I started going out with Toby, and the church seemed to approve of it.

My parents were already telling me that at 21 and in the final year at University, I should be thinking about settling down. Rumors circulated that Pastor Toby was looking for a wife, and he will be made the Executive Pastor once he's married. He was brilliant and spiritually sound too. That was why he was made an Assistant Pastor at the age of 27.

Toby was also handsome. That explained why the membership of the youth choir increased after becoming the coordinator. Imaginations of being a young Pastor's wife enveloped me. I was already playing roles in my head and thinking about how cute we'd look together. I pictured myself playing hostess and other essential parts during church activities. Toby was well versed in the Bible. I was always amazed at his grasp of the scriptures, and I looked forward to our private Bible lessons.

The day I visited his house for the first time was the last time I would also go there. We talked about everything from the Bible to school and my plans after graduation. Tobi was a good listener, and he seemed to know something about every topic. He was very encouraging. At some point, our conversation became a little stilted. The air was tense, and I didn't know what to make of it.

Suddenly Toby tried to kiss me. I was apprehensive at first, but I told myself that it was just a kiss. In my head, he was a responsible man that would not let things get out of hand. And so, I kissed him back passionately, trying to convey my feelings in the kiss.

Then, I felt his hands on my breasts. It was then that I withdrew and told him I didn't want to go further than a kiss, as I wasn't ready.

"Do you love me?" he asked. I nodded in the affirmative.

Then he said, "let me show you what marriage will be like for us."

"Just a little romance. We won't have sex, I promise."

Though scared, I decided to trust him. I let him explore my body with his hands until he touched in between my thighs. 'Please stop Toby, I don't want to go far. I'm not ready to have sex yet'.

"Don't be such a tease. Are you trying to say you haven't done this before?" He asked. 'No, I haven't and I want to go now, please.'

I still can't explain what happened to me that day. I saw a different version of Toby. He was no longer the gentleman I knew. After so many pleas and struggle, he managed to overpower me and forced himself into me. I was too numb to react. I blamed myself for what happened because I thought that somehow, I must have encouraged him. He gave me some money for transport and asked me to leave that he had an evening meeting with the Deacon.

I left in a daze, and it wasn't until I got home that I broke down in tears in our sitting room. My mum, who had opened the door for me, came and asked to know what had happened. It was amid narration that my father entered the living room and started asking me questions. My father is not a patient man. I had not finished recounting my ordeal when he bellowed and stormed out of the house.

Later in the evening, I learned that my father had gone to the church office to confront Toby. My life was never the same after that day. Toby told the church council how I had thrown myself at him and he had done everything in his power to resist me. Somehow, one of the brothers in church recounted how I've been known to be a flirt as I used to flirt with other boys.

Everything changed. I was tagged as the girl who seduced a man of God and accused him of rape. Pastor Toby's impeccable character spoke for him. Everyone knew me as the girl who was friendly with all the boys and loved spending more time with them than the girls. I was banned from the youth choir. My parents were too ashamed to go to church. Twice, I left the house after the incident, and the treatment I received from the neighborhood was hostile.

As if that wasn't enough, the landlord, Jennifer's father, issued a Notice to Quit to my parents. He didn't give any concise reason, but the underlying message he left was that he didn't want anyone corrupting his daughters. My mum seemed to have been affected most. She was the woman who could not raise her daughter correctly. She tried to stay strong for me, but I could see how badly she was affected.

I expected my best friend, Jennifer, to visit us after the incident, but I saw no glimpse of her. So I explained her absence. I told myself that her father had restricted her from coming to the house. Having been holed-up for so long, I decided I would go see her instead. I sought solace and comfort in my friend. I knew she would understand – or so I thought.

Hearing those mean words from her, it was the last straw for me. I cried so much until there were no tears left for me to shed. We stopped talking, and in the weeks that followed, we would pass each other on the way without acknowledging each other.

***********

The day Jennifer's uncle, Mr. Uzo, came, I saw him, and I felt uneasy. The trauma had made my sixth sense sharper. I was sitting by the window, which had become my permanent spot at home since I couldn't go out anymore. My father had found a new apartment and was putting things in place for us to move.

When I saw Mr. Uzo, I remembered that Jennifer was no fan of his. I also didn't like the man because he gave me the creeps. That day he looked like a man on a mission. I knew the landlord and his wife had gone out for their daily business, so Jennifer would be home alone. I had an inexplicable urge to greet the man from the window so he would register my presence, but I didn't say anything.

So when I heard the sound of what seemed like the sound of struggles from upstairs, I knew there was trouble. I felt like a déjà vu. "Uncle Uzo what is your problem? Daddy is not around leave me o."

I heard Jennifer shout. Knowing my friend, she was a smart girl, and I knew she was calling for help. I also knew that everyone in the compound had departed for work or school. We had just finished our first semester exams, so we didn't have anywhere to go.

I cannot explain what came over me, but it was as if my subconscious wanted her to feel exactly how I felt. All I was thinking about was to have her understand my plight, and maybe we could come to bond again over our shared experiences. I should have done something to help, but I didn't. If I had gone upstairs at the first sign of trouble, maybe it would never have happened. Madam Bose had a shop outside the compound, I could have alerted her, but I didn't. Nobody deserves to experience that kind of dehumanization, nobody.

Later that night, all I could feel was guilt and shame. I could hear her parents quarreling upstairs, shouting and threatening. So I resolved to see her later, to offer her the solace she failed to provide me with. I was going to do better, we were now 'sisters-in-trauma.'

Except that she didn't wake up the next day, Jennifer took her life before dawn.

It's been five years, and I still hear her screams and pleas in my sleep.