Posted: December 13, 2014 in short stories
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“I am Fatima, I am fifteen, and I am innocent.” –Fatima Abdul



It is Friday night, and for a long time I have been sitting with the others under the shade of the trees that spread throughout the entire forest. My head is banging, bursting and swelling with a million pictures of the things they would do to us tonight.

I see him approach, a Boko Haram leader, their third in command, the one that took me last Friday, he winks at me, and walks past. I hate him, he is worse than the other men, the others get tired after a short while, but this one; this one raped me all through the night. He didn’t care I was bleeding, he didn’t care I was crying, he didn’t care he was tearing me apart with his giant sized manhood.

I heard her sniff, the girl that almost won the vest last Friday, she was crying, she knew she would win it today. It was a game to them, our lives. The one who gives them the least pleasure wins the suicide vest and is sent to die.

They think I am sweet, I hear them say it often. Since the first light of today, a hundred of them has been eyeing me, I could sense the gawk they placed on my budding breast; it was firm.

Today, they clothed us with gowns that covered us from head to toe, leaving out our underpants, it made me feel bare, it made me feel naked.

“Get up, get up and gather together, now!” A man holding a very large gun commands.

We all gather together, it is time for the reading, the reading of the Holy Quran. They think it is a religious thing, to have us, to pleasure themselves with our bodies. I hear them Chorus, “Allah be praised.” And I know it is time.

It is time for the harvesting; they choose us like corn, selecting the best and rejecting the rest. He picks me, the third in command. Ismail, his name is Ismail. He drags me to his tent, I would have followed willingly, but I think he prefers to drag me; he wants to see me bleed as he drags my body across the grassy path to his tent.

“Remove your gown; take it off you filthy scum!” He commanded.

I hesitated, I see a spark in his eye, he likes my hesitation, he wants me to refuse, he wants to justify his urge to beat me into pulp, he doesn’t just want to have sex with me, he wants to rape me, like a drug, he needs it.

I take off my clothes; he walks to me and flings me to his mat, and then he slaps me. I feel dizzy; he slaps me again, and again. He wants me to cry, I will not cry. He strikes my lips with the handle of his short dagger. I am bleeding now. He touches the blood and massages his hand with it, then he holds my breast, he squeeze my breast so hard I think it will burst, I let out a light cry, he loves the sound of the cry.

Then he starts to do it, I feel like my stomach would burst, it is so dip, I feel it in my womb. I sense a tear in my inner lap, I am bleeding again; I start to cry, trying to fight him back, he holds my neck, pressing me down, I start to choke, I think he is going to kill me. He is pressing my neck harder with both hands as he thrust deeper into me. I try to fight him back again, and then I feel something, his dagger, lying just beside me. I go for it; he is too pleasured to notice. I drive it in through his ribs, I send it in again a few more times, I don’t know how this is happening, but my hand is moving very fast, I am stabbing him non-stop.

He falls on me, putting his full weight on me. He is not moving, I use all the energy I have and push him away, and then, I realize he is lifeless. Ismail is dead, I have won it; I have won the suicide vest.


“My name is Fatima, I a murderer, and whilst I die tomorrow, I would take a thousand Nigerians with me.” –Fatima Abdul. (1999—2014)


Reblog this to help remember the Nigerian Girls still in Captivity of the Boko Haram terror group!

  1. sheldonk2014 says:

    These times are troubling. Great work. You’ve open my eyes a little wider. Thank you. Many blessings

    Liked by 1 person

  2. avenuewrite says:

    Reblogged this on kanmaolise and commented:
    I’ll all the girls that come across this not to read it. It may bring you nightmares. Enjoy! (If you can. If you do you must be sick though)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I heaved a sigh after I approached the last full-stop. One word for this- detailed. Sorry- Explicit. Damn, last chance- great!! Good one mate.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Awele says:

    Okkk…..why’s my heart beating after reading this? This is a very nice piece…makes me see some things frm a different point of view….ur imagination marvels me

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Julibravo says:

    I held my breath till the last word… beautiful. #bringbackourgirls

    Liked by 1 person

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