Social Crusader, Funke Oguntuga, Narrates How She Was Raped By A Person She Calls ‘Buodaa’ (Part 1)

On this day, 26yrs ago, I was sexual abused by my neighbour.

This is going to be long, be warned. I will tell you how it happened. Not because this will make a good story but because telling this story will help you break your silence too, it will query your parenting skills and open your mind to ‘self’ Yes, you will find yourself.

My abuser was a neighbour/ family friend, no surprises there. Our family has known his for a couple of years and we see each other every day.

He was much older than me but not old enough to be called ‘uncle’. I call him ‘booda …..’,

So, our ‘Christian’ family’s relationship with him was nothing more than that of a neighbour.

On that day, I’d just got back from school, still in my school uniform, he came knocking on our door and asked me to do him a favour.

“A friend of mine is owing me some money and has refused to see me or send my money. I have a plan. We will go there together now and you will knock on his door, I am certain he will open the door on hearing a woman’s voice if he is at home”.

I hesitated at first because I was still in my school uniform and a hip of house shores was waiting for me, as always.

I obliged him.

His friend’s house was just a street away. We walked down together and no one noticed anything or called to snap me back into reality. We got there and as planned, I knocked on a door and a voice from inside answered,..

Who is that?!


The floored flunged open, he asked what I wanted, it was at this point I noticed booda….. was no longer directly behind me but a few steps away as I turned expecting him to respond.

In a split of a seconds, before I could open my mouth, he doubled his steps towards us and pushed me in.

His accomplice (I later found out) walked away.

He locked the door, broke a bottle lying by the bed side and ordered me to pull my cloth.

I whimpered no. But my fear and heartbeat was louder than my voice.

He didn’t appear to hear and proceeded to rape me brutally.

I wish I had cried. Or screamed. Or loudly protested and thrashed and bit him until he left me alone. Instead, I lay there, numb, wishing fervently for it to be over.

I knew nothing about child sexual abuse. I did not know what the red flag behaviors displayed by many potential abusers were.

Like many in our society, I did not realize that most abusers are not "monsters". I’ve learned, however, that they are everyday people from all walks of life.

They are people that you most likely know and meet everyday and would never think that they would choose to abuse a child.

He ordered me to dress up and go home!

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