Chioma’s Story

stop child abuse

Remember, this page is dedicated to survivors. Their lives are here for you to read about, the horror, the pain, and their feelings.Out of respect for them and their families, I will not be mentioning their actual names. Please note that these stories may trigger memories from the past .They are very emotional and powerful stories. It takes a lot of courage to put your life into words for all to see. Many thanks to those who did.
May we all stand together and say to victims of sexual abuse: There is no shame for you in what happened. You are the brave ones and we honour you today.

Chioma’s Story
Hello Ezar, my story begins from when I was a little girl. An innocent child at the hands of a cruel grandfather. Every Christmas my family would travel out where my grandparents lived. That’s how my young life started, being violently raped and abused over and over again. And that’s how the sexual abuse continued throughout my entire childhood. Yes, my grandfather raped me.
When I reached senior school, I was sent away to an all-girls boarding school in the east. That was where I met the next person that sexually abused me. She was my teacher, and I confided in her, the secret that I had been holding in all those years. She responded with kindness and compassion. But soon after, she went on to take advantage of my vulnerability, and continued the horrid pattern that my life had claimed. She would invite me to her home at night, usually when students were having prep, and exploit and shatter whatever human part of me my grandfather had left behind. She stole any innocence that had been forgotten, she tore me apart once again- leaving me more broken than I had ever been.
The years in that school went by, filled with numbness and unbearable pain. Filled with emotions I had never known existed. Filled with an emptiness that was so hollow. I was a walking dead person. How could I tell anyone that I was being abused by a teacher who had so much clout in school? The endless amount of sleepless nights became a ritual in my twisted schedule. The daily confusion and absolute loss that consumed me is indescribable. This torturous hell was my life as I had come to know it.
The abuse stopped after I graduated from secondary school. I got admission into the university and started attending a school fellowship. Our pastor shared her testimony in one of our meetings. She was abused too and I felt comfortable sharing my sad story with her. She literally helped me break my silence, held my hands, offered me a space in her home and heart. I am glad I did. I told her my story and the good thing was that I was believed. I was told I was loved. I was told it was not my fault, that the blame laid elsewhere. I was told how strong I was, how funny I was, how courageous I was. I was told I was intelligent. I was told I had support. And most importantly, I found friends who understood me.
I discovered that I didn’t have to become anything at all – that underneath my pain I was already beautiful.

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About Ezar

I'm in love with my dreams, married to success and having an affair with life ;) I live for the moments you can't put into words and I dont look back...unless there's a good view.

Posted on July 29, 2015, in Scars for Stars (Beauty for Ashes). Bookmark the permalink. 11 Comments.

  1. Terrible grandfather. Heartless teacher.

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  2. A teacher too? Very bad. Everyone in the education service plays a part in keeping children and young people safe from harm and abuse. Creating a safe learning environment, identifying pupils who are suffering or at risk of harm and then taking appropriate action, are vital to ensuring children are safe at home and at school.

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  3. Ezar, I spent over twenty years in the classroom, and I was appalled to find that the adults who abused went unpunished. They were careful not to abuse anyone with political influence. They directed their cruelty at students who were less fortunate, or whose parents had slighted or angered the teacher, possibly back when THEY were in school together. Whenever this was reported, the administration grew paranoid and began watching those of us who voiced concern, as we were not to be trusted. My last few years of teaching were spent in a small school, where rivalries and a clique emerged, protecting its members from parents’, students’ and colleagues’ questions or concerns. Sad

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  4. Sad story.

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  5. Some people (particularly some men) think they are entitled to any sexual contact that they want, with whoever they want. They don’t think about how the victim feels, they just think about themselves and make excuses for their behaviour, and that is wrong. They try to manipulate or scare the victim into keeping quiet about what they are doing.
    Young people, on the other hand, are vulnerable to being controlled or abused by adults who they have to trust and depend on. Sexual abusers don’t look or act like ‘weirdos’ – they can be normal-looking family members or friends, like your grandfather and teacher. Sexual abuse happens more often than you probably think.

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  6. Chioma, I am so sorry for what you have gone through. As I was reading it I felt so sad for you and also scared. You must have been so scared of what was happening.

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  7. Terrible. I think you should paddle up the head of your grandpa with a stick! he deserves it..what a sex maniac old guy! Ur teacher is a freak. God punish them all

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  8. Permit me to say that your grandfather must have been an abusive father too. He must have done the same thing to his daughters. I am very certain of this. The man will rot in hell. As for your teacher, she is a she-devil, no mercy for her. Stupid thing.

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  9. I’m happy this platform is available for victims to share their stories. For other people who are going through or have gone through a similar experience, you have to know that you’re not the only one this has happened to, it’s happened to others.

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  10. Im glad u r finding yourself again. My prayers are with you. Stay strong.

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  11. First of all, I must commend you, Dumebi, for a wonderful book and this worthwhile project of helping victims. I hope to meet with you soon. Keep up the good work.
    My sympathies go to the victims who have shared their stories with us. You are never alone. Im sorry you had to go through these hurt and pain. May God comfort you and give you the grace to forgive. like Chioma’s last sentence…U are beautiful. Best wishes in life.
    Good work, Dumebi. Will keep in touch.

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