By curator, Lindsey Kukunda. Originally published on monpimon.wordpress.com
I was on my way home from a night out with friends. It was around 10.00 pm.
As I walked uphill, two men were walking down towards me. Suddenly, they stopped me and grabbed each of my arms. I had gone from being a free woman to being their prisoner in less than a second.
I begged them to let me go, and they leered and laughed at me. I yelled at a teenager passing by.
“Help me!”, I cried. “I don’t know these men. Please help me!”
The men told him to ‘mind his own business or face fire’. The teenager run away. The men begun tugging me in a direction I was unaware of as I struggled to free myself. A boda boda man passing by stopped and rode in our direction. They let me go and I run.
One of them chased after me. I turned around and saw him gaining on me. I run faster but could not out run him. I turned around again, gasping, to see my progress. I saw him lift his foot and kick me hard in my lower back. I flew like a stone, landing hard on the ground, cutting myself on stone.
The boda-boda man stopped chasing the other man and came for the one who was now hovering over me. He run away. I did not stop to thank the man. I got up and did not stop running until I had reached my house where I cried myself to sleep. I did not leave my home for two days.
At the time, I knew I’d brought this on myself because it was late and I was out alone.
I don’t think like this anymore. I now know there are predators who will find their prey anyway they can and any woman become their victim, in any place, at any time and on any day.