My blog of the day : The story of a married bride #teardrops

Hello my inspiration at #steemit @surpassinggoogle, this is my entry in the #ulog program, a story about the sad story of a woman who was raped.

When a bride does not appear on her wedding, no one suspects that she has been kidnapped, raped and left in a near-deathed state by the side of the road.

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Here Terry tells his story.

It was my wedding day. I am a pastor, so all our church congregation is coming, so are all our brothers. My fiance, Harry, and I are very happy. We got married at All Saints Cathedral in Nairobi and I've rented a beautiful dress.

But on the night before the wedding, I realized that Harry's clothes, including his tie, were left at my house. He can not get married without wearing a tie. Therefore, a friend who stayed that night offered to deliver clothes to Harry's house in the morning. We woke up early and I drove him to the bus station.

When I returned home, I walked past a man sitting on a hood. Suddenly he pulled me from behind and rested me in the back seat. Apparently there are two men waiting in the car, and they drive the car directly. Everything happens in a fraction of a second.

My mouth is clogged with pieces of cloth I wear. I kicked, beat and tried to scream. When I managed to open my silenced mouth, I shouted: "It's my wedding day!" That's when I got the first hit. One of the men told me to "work together or I will die".

The man took turns to rape me. I'm sure I'll die, but I'm still fighting to stay alive. When one of the men removed the cloth that stuffed my mouth, I immediately bit into his vital tool. He screamed in pain, then one of them pierced my stomach. Then they opened the door and kicked me out of the speeding car.
I was in a place hundreds of kilometers away from home, just outside Nairobi. More than six hours have passed since I was kidnapped.

A child saw me dumped on the street and called his grandmother. People came running. When the police came, they tried to check my pulse, but no one could hear my heartbeat. They thought I was dead, then wrapped my body in a blanket and started taking me to the morgue.

But on the way there, I choked in a blanket and coughed. The cop said, "He's alive?" He then reversed his vehicle and drove me to the largest government hospital in Kenya.

I arrived at the hospital in shock, muttering uncertainly. I am half naked and covered in blood, and my face is swollen from being punched. But there was something reminiscent of a nurse's head, because she suspected I was a bride.

"Let's ask the churches to find out if they lost the bride," he told the nurses.
Coincidentally, the first church they contacted was All Saints Cathedral. "Did you miss a bride?" the nurse asked.
Then the caretaker said: "Yes, there is a wedding at 10 and the bride does not come."

When I did not come to church, my parents panicked. People were scattered to look for me. Rumors are circulating. Some people wonder: "Has he changed his mind?" Others say: "No, this is not his nature, what happened?"

After a few hours, they finally had to dismantle the decoration because there was another ceremony to take place. Harry, the groom is waiting in another room in the church.

When they heard about my whereabouts, my parents came to the hospital with the whole group. Harry brought my wedding dress. But this event has been heard by the media, so there are many journalists there.

I was transferred to another hospital so I had more privacy. That's where the doctors stitch the injuries I confiscated and tell me bad news: "The puncture wound penetrates deep into your uterus, so you can not have children."

I was given contraceptives, as well as antiretroviral drugs to protect me from HIV and AIDS. My mind is closed, refusing to accept what has happened.

Harry keeps saying that he still wants to marry me. "I want to take care of him and make sure he is healthy again in my arms, in our house," he said. To be honest, I am not in a position to say 'Yes' or 'No', because my mind is crammed with the faces of the three men, and with everything that has happened.

A few days later, when the tranquilizers began to wane, I was able to look into his eyes. I keep apologizing. I feel I have let him down. Some people say it is my own fault that has left home in the morning. It hurts, but my family and Harry support me.

The police never arrested the rapists. I waited and waited, but I did not recognize any of the rapists, and it hurt me. I am restoring my condition - 10 steps forward, 20 backwards. In the end I went back to the police station and said: "I'm done, I just want to get it done."

Three months after the attack, I was told that I was HIV negative and I was very excited, but they said I still had to wait another three months to make sure. Even so, Harry and I started planning our second marriage.

Though I was very angry with the press trouble, someone read my story and asked to see me. His name is Vip Ogolla, and he is also a rape victim. We talked, and he told me that he and his friends wanted to hold my wedding, but I did not have to shell out a dime. "Do whatever you want, whatever you want," he said.
I am very happy. I can choose a variety of party cakes, which are more expensive. Besides being able to rent a dress, I can also have other wedding clothes.

TEARDROPS IS SADNESS

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Regard
@najua