stories

SURVIVOR'S STORIES

From: "ivan" (c)>

I'm a 27 year old, happily married South African male. I'm a Motivational Speaker, featured in national magazines and on an international television program. I'm in the process of publishing my first book and motivational video. Sounds like life is treating me pretty good, doesn't it? Would you believe that not long ago I was contemplating suicide?

Life as I knew it ceased to exist on the 28th of September 2001 - it happened at a time when everything seemed perfect, the company I formed was beginning to show excellent growth. Shortly before I left my career as an Air Traffic Controller in 1999 to pursue my dream of becoming an entrepreneur. And I was living that dream to the limit.

I was in Pretoria for a business trip, and it was the night before I would return to George, my hometown. As I stopped at an intersection, a tall slender man approached my car and asked for directions. As I replied he produced a pistol. I was taken to a deserted road off the N1, North of Pretoria. There he ordered me to remove my clothing. It made sense to me. I won't go running off for help too quickly without any clothes on, would you? So I was sort of relieved at that stage, believing he will now take my car and leave. As I was undressing, a second vehicle stopped behind us. It was a white Isuzu 4x4. There were two men in the 4x4, one of them got out. I was pushed to the ground, my hands tied behind my back, and a noose placed around my neck. This was no hijacking.

In the back of the truck, which had a canopy, I was raped by two of the men. The third perpetrator remained in the passenger seat, holding the end of the noose. His job was to strangle me whenever I tried to resist. And resist I did. I even pushed my head toward the pistol one of the men was holding. They would burn me with cigarettes if I did not lie still enough. I prayed only once; "Please let them kill me." They left me alone for a while. I could see them standing outside, smoking and talking, but couldn't hear a thing.
The image of my wife kept turning up in my head. The image of her all alone. I hated what was happening to me, and did not see how this could end well, even if they did let me go. I had made so many promises to her, and we had so many dreams to realize. I no longer wanted to die; even it was just for her. When the men got back into the 4x4 one of them pushed the pistol against my head and asked me if I wanted to die? Funny how persuasive a piece of lead can be when you know that piece of lead can end your life. I said no, please don't kill me. They then forced me to have oral sex with both of them. That was the worst.

They poured fuel over me after dragging me from the vehicle. The fumes were overpowering. I consequently lost consciousness. By the time I regained consciousness, the men had left, and I was all-alone. I searched for my car key that was thrown into the bushes earlier. I finally found it with the help of a flashlight I always kept in my car. A miracle I do believe. With my hands still tied, I drove to the nearest hospital. The continual strangling caused minor damage to my vocal cords, and all I managed to get out was that I think I was raped. Ironic that I used the word "think." It was my way of denying what had happened. Statements were taken by a police officer and I was escorted to a provincial hospital where the District Surgeon went about the task of collecting evidence. I was raped all over again, or so it felt. Today I must say that I firmly believe that this part of the exercise is of vital importance. The evidence the Doctor collects will help to put the perpetrators in jail, although not pleasant, it is a necessity. I also received my dose of AZT. As with the district surgeon's examination, taking AZT is not pleasant at all, but it prevents HIV and is worthwhile. I have proven negative in both my HIV blood tests so I am very hopeful for a clean bill of health.

Back home I stayed indoors and out of sight for most of the time. I was scared. My wife was the one person that I could confide in. I told her exactly what had happened to me and although she could not always understand what I was going through, she never judged me. She listened to me when I wanted to talk about the rape, she dried my tears and took responsibility for our day-to-day survival. She endured all my outbursts of rage towards my attackers and yet never left my side. She wanted to know why these men did it and wanted them punished. I will always admire her for the courage she displayed during those times, not only because she coped with it, but also because she loves me in spite of it.
The word that I was hijacked spread like fire in my small hometown, no one knew that I was raped. My company was quickly going down the drain. The AZT kept me from working for the first month. I had no ambition left and decided to close the company. I had some money saved up and was sure that I would be able to survive on it. This was a big mistake and please learn from it. Do not make any life changing decisions when you are still coming to grips with trauma. Your decisions will be based on emotions, and emotions change daily. Much rather take leave if you can, or cut down on your expenses. If you are a family member who deals with a traumatised person, give them time; take as much responsibility as you can off their shoulders. Don't ask him what you can do to help, think of something appropriate and do it. One golden rule though, keep his rape to yourself until he gives you permission to share it with others. On a pamphlet someone at the hospital gave me was the telephone numbers of various support groups. All of them starting with words or phrases like stop woman abuse, or woman's help line, or organisations against rape of woman. Let me just say that what these people are doing is to be admired. They are saving 1000s of lives everyday. Then though, those words made me feel even more alone, that I was indeed the odd one out. I wanted an organization where I could feel accepted, where no one will judge me. After all, as young boys we are taught to look after ourselves, that we must be able to defend ourselves. Have you heard of male rape before? I certainly didn't have any knowledge of it at the time. I thought it was something that happens in prisons. You can understand then that for a man to say he was raped means to the general public that he is not a real man and that he is weak. To those people I have only one thing to say; pray it never happens to you. But then again men don't even stop to ask for directions, let alone admit we need help.

It was 3 months after the attack on a Wednesday morning. I was sitting staring out over the ocean (our house was on the beachfront) when the thought of swimming into the sea as far as I could came to me. I thought of killing myself, I thought, why on earth would I survive the rape and now want to take my own life? What was it that made me feel this useless? I was no longer with those men; I was now making my own decisions, responsible for my own actions. I could blame the rape for all my heartache and suffering to the end of days that will not change a thing. It was on that day that I took control of my life again. I started by searching the Internet for factual information on male rape. In S.A. we are unfortunately years behind on research into male rape. It took women close to 20 years to be noticed. I did however find an abundance of organisations internationally that specialised on the subject. They have support groups, dedicated research and a host of other useful information. This discovery empowered me to realise that male rape does happen. That it is a crime like any other and should receive the same if not more attention from the public.

I reclaimed my space on this earth by taking responsibility for my reactions to the rape. I started a new career and with it told people the truth when they asked me about the hijacking. Yes, not everyone is sympathetic to your situation and I did get some remarks that made me feel sad. But those were in the minority and I have come to understand those people are just scared of something they don't know. I knew how much it took from me to talk about the rape and I was proud of myself for doing it. Even more though was the fact that the men who raped me no longer had control over me. My decisions were based on what I wanted and not because of what they did to me. Speaking in public came after a journalist got to hear of my story and published a piece in a national magazine (women's magazine, ironic hey). The response from men who were raped was awe-inspiring. I cannot believe just how many there are. A marketing company who now represents me as a Motivational Speaker approached me. It seems people are more interested in how I coped with the rape rather than the rape itself.

Accepting that healing is not a destination but rather a journey was for the most part the key to my recovery. You have your good days and your bad days. You have your ups and your downs. For me it is enjoying the good days and making the most of it, and taking from the bad days what I can, reminding myself that it doesn't last forever. Whenever I am faced with a crisis or find myself pondering about what could have been, I revert back to a little book I have. In this book I wrote down all my dreams and next to each one an example of people who are living with diversity. People like Mr. Nelson Mandela who were jailed on an island and then became President. Or Albert Einstein who at age 4 only, started to talk.
Do you think these people knew that they would one day amount to the men they became. No. But they achieved great heights because they persisted. No one can predict the future, no one. No matter where you find yourself or how low you feel, every 24 hours you will get a return trip around the sun. You do not know what may await you in the future, and by giving up on yourself you are not giving it a chance.

One more tool that helped me in a great way was to do selfless acts of kindness. Whether it was making my wife breakfast or helping a lady carry her parcels. The idea of giving made me happy. The art though is to give your most precious possession, your time, and to give it without expecting any gratitude in return. The joy on their faces will be reward enough. Why giving helped me so much I cannot tell you, I am sure some psychologist wrote a book on the topic but here you will just have to take my word for it. Whenever you feel yourself losing control, go out and do something good, give your time to someone.

I hope you will understand from what I have written that rape is not the end of the world. It is the beginning of a new one; you must just stick around long enough to find it. Remember that you will loose . the joy of today if all you do is fear tomorrow.

Ivan

Feel free to e-mail me at talk2ivan@yahoo.com. All correspondences are treated with the utmost of privacy. Or post your letters to Ivan, PO Box 10333, George, 6530.