A woman recalls the sex crime committed against her as an eight-year-old. Mariella Frostrup praises her courage, and salutes her achievement as a survivor
I’ve never told anyone about this. When I was eight, I lived in a refugee camp and I was raped by a boy in his late teens. I still blame myself for what happened and I guess the reason that I never told anyone is I am afraid that they are going to blame me for it. He told me not to tell anyone and gave me a dollar. I was in shock because I remember how when a girl is paid for sex she is considered “a slut and a whore”. And I didn’t want to put anything bad into my family name. Sometimes I wish I could go back and stop myself. And also I’m afraid of telling my fiance.
Thank you for writing. It clearly took courage and I hope I can do justice to your bravery by offering you helpful advice. We should all be grateful to you for writing. Letters like yours have much to offer those of us who have been luckier and escaped the worst the world has to offer, reminding us that beyond our safe and comfortable lives there lies a parallel universe of chaos and violence where justice is a dream and human nature can be observed at its worst and at its best.
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