THE RED CORNER: HOW I GOT RAPED BY MY BROTHER’S FRIENDS (THE FINALE)

The days that followed were a blur of police statements, medical check-ups, and family meetings. My parents and brothers were relentless in their pursuit of justice, and I was grateful for their unwavering support. As the case against Ben and Alex progressed, I began to feel a sense of closure. I realized that I wasn’t alone, and that there were people who cared about me and wanted to help.

My brothers were consumed by guilt and regret for introducing me to the people who had caused me so much harm. They couldn’t forgive themselves for their role in my trauma. I still remember the day they confronted Ben and Alex. My brother Emmanuel boiled in anger, and he struck Alex in the face, causing blood to gush out. The policemen had to intervene to prevent further harm.

The trial was a difficult and emotional experience. The parents of Ben and Alex came to our house multiple times, begging for forgiveness and offering compensation. One of the mothers even met with me personally to apologize. At one point, they offered my family 3 million naira as compensation, but my father refused, citing his strong stance against corruption. He told them to leave our house and never return, threatening to testify against them in court.

The process was long and arduous, but I was determined to see it through. The trauma of the experience still lingered, and sometimes I would break down in tears. I felt a deep sense of shame and fear of being gossiped about or judged by others while I walked during school hours. I had to change schools twice because the constant reminders and whispers were too much to bear.

However, with the support of my family, I found the strength to testify against Ben and Alex. My mother was particularly supportive, spending more time with me and offering words of encouragement. Her presence was a comfort, but sometimes her advice felt like a reminder of my stigma.

One day, I confided in my mother, telling her how much I wished she had spent more time with me before the incident. She listened intently, and I could see the regret in her eyes.

My parents decided to seek the help of a psychotherapist, because sometimes I would just wake up with so much fear, sweating profusely in my bed. The therapy session proved to be incredibly helpful in my healing process. With time, patience, and support, I slowly began to rebuild my life.

The day of the judgment finally arrived, and Ben and Alex were found guilty of their crimes. They were sentenced to 10 years in prison, and I finally felt a sense of justice. However, as I looked at them, I felt a pang of sadness and compassion. I realized that they were someone’s sons, someone’s brothers, and that their actions had consequences that would affect not just me, but also their loved ones.

In a surprising turn of events, I stood up in the courtroom and forgave Ben and Alex. I asked the judge to show them mercy, she refused at a point but to my surprise, she agreed to release them. However, they still had to face the consequences of their actions, and they were forced to pay a hefty fine to secure their release.

As they left the courtroom, I saw the shame and remorse in their eyes. They were tears of regret, and I knew that they had finally understood the gravity of their actions.

Years later, I learned that Ben and Alex had turned their lives around. One of them had become a priest, dedicating his life to serving others. The other had become an advocate for victims of sexual assault and rape, using his experience to help others.

I had finally found my peace, and I had discovered my voice. I had learned to speak out against injustice, and to stand up for myself. I had discovered a strength within myself that I never knew I had.

As I looked back on my journey, I knew that I would always be grateful for the love and support of my family. They had stood by me through the darkest of times, and they had helped me to heal and find my voice. I knew that I would never let anyone silence me again.