Abstract
In this section
South African lives ZANELE MUHOLI 156
Satire from Turkmenistan FARID TUKHTABULLIN 168
Modern woman ABDUL WAKIL SULAMAL SHINWARI 186
Through her powerful photography and curation of inkayiso.org, I am not a victim but a victor Lungile Dladla
They call February the month of love, I call it the month of change …
In February 2010, I was walking with Mathapelo along Swazi Street. It was around 7pm, a few hours after my aunt’s funeral. My friend was accompanying me to my house and the street was not busy that day. A guy came walking in the opposite direction. We paid no attention to him because we did not think of anything bad. In a blink of an eye he was right behind us with a gun. He said: ‘futsek nina siya le manje’ (‘We are going in that direction now’). Shaking and scared, we listened to him.
He led us to a field. The strange thing about him was that he knew the place so well that he told us exactly where to walk because that place has dangerous holes we could fall in. When we got to his place of horror he instructed us to lie on the ground face down, hands behind our backs. We did as we were told because we feared for our lives; he had a gun in his hand and was threatening to use it if we did not do as he said. He undressed us and said: ‘today ngizoni khipha ubutabane.’
I said a little prayer because I knew what was coming after. He then tied both our hands and feet. My friend kept on negotiating with him not to rape us and I was absentminded the whole time. It felt like my body was there but my mind was so far away. I just remember my friend saying, ‘please, if you rape us use a condom.’
He asked why I was wearing guys’ clothes. My tongue was tied, I couldn’t say anything, so I kept quiet. He covered our faces with our clothes, then he started raping my friend. When he was done he then untied my feet, spread my legs apart and forcefully penetrated me. I was crying and praying. When he was done he got dressed and said, ‘Am going now, I will tell you when you should go.’ Then he started walking, I could hear his movements as he was moving through the grass. From a distance he told us to get dressed and go. We tried to untie each other’s hands then got dressed. In the dark we managed to get out of those fields.
Then I told my friend that I was going straight to the police station. It was around 11pm. She said it was too risky but I told her that I did not care. We got to the police station; the police officers took us to a room.
We told them what happened and as we talking they stopped and asked me, ‘You were raped? How? That is impossible, you’re a guy!’ What they said hurt me even more. I then asked them how I could be male namabele (with breasts)!
If it was not for the girl I used to go to school with, those stupid people would have not taken my statement.
As they were taking our statements one of the officers said that it’s not the first time they heard of a rape case in that area. In my mind I thought: ‘Why, then, didn’t you go patrol the veld?’ We left the police station around 12 or 1am. I could not sleep that night as I could smell the guy on my body. In the morning, we went back to the police for the tests. They took them, gave us some pills, then told us to go, that they will call us.
Time went by and they never called until Kaya FM covered my story and demanded to know what happened. Police told them that the case was closed because the suspect was unknown. A year later, the case was reopened; they found the guy and arrested him. In court he was charged with 17 cases of rape. He got a life sentence for his crimes. I cannot say I was happy with that but it was better than nothing.
When I thought that the worst had past, hell broke loose. My life turned upside down. I was not treated well at home and I got very sick in December 2011 due to stress.
In January 2012, I was admitted to hospital – I was very sick and I thought I was dying. The doctors did a string of tests to figure out what was wrong with me. The tests came back and I was diagnosed as HIV-positive. On top of that I had a lung infection and PCP [a pneumonia very common among HIV patients]. At that point I could not breathe nor walk. I thought it was the end of me.
I stayed in hospital for two months, and when I was discharged my CD4 count [cell count that helps the body’s immunity] was single digit; no one thought I was going to make it. However, I started taking ARVs [anti-retrovirals] and I must say I am healthier than ever before; my CD4 count is over 300 and my viral load is low.
One thing I still need to overcome, though, is the fact that whenever I take my medication I am reminded of what that bastard did to me!
However, my inner self is strong; I am going beat this. HIV is not my life and I am not going to let it get to me.
I am not a victim but a victor …
LiTer 01; Crime Scene #1
Crime Scene #5, Thobe & Phila I
Aftermath; Sistahs
All photos by Zanele Muholi. Courtesy of Stevenson, Cape Town and Johannesburg
