Uncaringly, I was just another sexual abuse statistic!

 
By Stanley Collymore

I never wanted to be a parent having from the very earliest
time that I can remember being sexually abused by my
biological father who although he wasn’t married to
my mother, and never did marry her, nevertheless
still lived with us; and while I was much too
young in the earliest stages of his sexual
abuse of me to fully understand the
sickening nature of his depravity, the consequences of
what he was actually doing and how understandably
perverted and cruelly wrong it all was to me, and
especially so as I was undeniably his daughter.
I did, however, as I grew older and in sheer
desperation by then at long last confide
to my mum my personal misgivings
as I saw them then in relation to
my father’s entirely unnatural
and criminally disgusting
behaviour towards me.

However, instead of her intuitively empathizing with and
lovingly consoling me I instead quickly found myself
entirely dismayed and emotionally stunned by the
equanimity of my mother’s response as regards
what I was telling her as she quite puzzlingly
and chillingly reproached me for being an
insensitive and utterly selfish “big baby”
for callously casting unsubstantiated
aspersions on my dad’s unblemished character and who
in her unnerving words to me “was just expressing
in physical terms his deep-seated and abundant
love for me!” Making it explicitly clear that I
was plainly nowhere - given the invidious
circumstances I was now additionally
placed in - near to convincing my
own mother that what my dad
had time and again done to
me and was still an ongoing situation with
him wasn’t only physically hurting and
emotionally damaging to me but also
and even from my young and very
sexually untutored perspective
was particularly wicked and
totally wrong. Yet in spite
of that my mum on top
of my dad’s rampant
sexual abuse of me had knowingly,
deviously complicit, and all this
coupled with dad’s illicit and
debauched actions towards
me, aggravated this vile
obscenity precisely
through her rank
and abysmal
betrayal
of me!

© Stanley V. Collymore
4 March 2017.


Author’s Remarks:
I’m well aware that a purported official inquiry reluctantly set up by the British Tory regime and UK parliament both of them shamed into doing so by public pressure and opinion and relating to historic child sexual abuse allegations over a period of several decades across Britain is belatedly and shambolically underway. But in reporting this fact let me categorically and unambiguously make it absolutely clear that from a principled and personal perspective neither this inquiry nor its expected future findings, whatever they turn out to be, are of will be of the slightest interest to me; and with exceedingly good reasons.

The first of these being that the heinous allegations long and methodically ignored or else brazenly, callously and officially covered up in what’s undeniably class-structured, toadying and cap-doffing Britain by all the relevant authorities that were duty bound to probe them but adamantly, unethically, sycophantically to their perceived social betters and even criminally refused to do so because those making the allegations were disdainfully and dismissively regarded at best as Plebeians or worst more generally as the lower classes who didn’t matter in the least while those in the firing line of their concerted allegations were and still are among Britain’s most powerful and massively influential political, financial, governing, social, celebrity and privileged elites; the unchallengeable untouchables as it were!

The second reason: equally logical and laudable on my part, is my absolute distrust of those who’re involved with this purported inquiry, which essentially is nothing more than a rather premeditatedly devised and cynically conducted whitewash together with a calculated and deceitful sop to the orchestrated “sensitivities” of a seriously unthinking British public always eager to jump onto any populist-perceived bandwagon which might, however transiently so, ameliorate the deeply ingrained and totally insecure awareness of their manifest lack of self-worth.

A chaotic inquiry, to say the least, which was foot-draggingly at best and with implacable resistance and consummate hostility for the greater part and most of the time by those who were enforcedly through mounting public pressure obliged to set it up, actually deigned to arrogantly insult the acuity of the intelligent among the British public by nepotistically drafting in those from among its own privileged ranks and the said category of persons that were closely allied with those under suspicion for these ghastly crimes to literally “investigate” these people. Natural justice, neutrality and fair play aside a state of affairs that either didn’t dawn on or were knowingly and asininely ignored by those responsible for this totally obtuse state of affairs.

Yet all the same haughtily taking no cognizance of these facts until overwhelming public condemnation and mounting pressure grudgingly forced them to cosmetically tamper with their designated and instituted modus operandi which was and still is to permanently shield from public exposure, irrevocable ignominy and a humiliating prosecution the plethora of perverts, paedophiles and the other inured criminal, sexual deviants that form an integral of the establishers’ of this inquiry’s intimately close and treasured political, financial and social “privileged elite” circles.

My third and principal reason of the many others that readily come to mind and justly necessitate my taking the principled stance I have, is that all of these “victims” even at a cursory glance are irrefutably white. What’s wrong with that I hear you ask; can’t whites be victims as well? Of course they can is my blunt and honest answer but NOT exclusively so! For I know and every other principled person does that Blacks and other non-whites not only in Britain but for several centuries across its global empire have routinely been victims of English and British barbarities and among these massive catalogues of their crimes have been recurrent and barbaric sexual abuse. And to cite just two examples of these my own case and that of my fellow Afro-Caribbean kith and kin – a cute expression that you whites lovingly like to use as regards yourselves. Don’t get me wrong! I’ve never been personally raped or sexually abused by anyone whether white or Black, and had anyone tried to far less so succeeded in doing so at any stage of my life I don’t think they’d be alive to boast about it subsequently for knowing what had been done to me even supposedly so as a child I would have sought them out in my adulthood and killed them. I’m simply referring, in reference to the above, to the systematic implantation of the white male Y chromosome that was enforcedly injected into my DNA system and that of all other African Caribbean people, whether living at home in the West Indies or our wider global Diaspora, because of the unrelenting methodical rape of our Black female ancestors within those Caribbean islands; so much such that many of us have more white genes in us than several of you who hubristically and vaingloriously claim to be white.

My second example also includes Black people, and in this case rural Kenyan women in long-established tribal social communities, who were in more recent times routinely gang-raped and callously impregnated by British soldiers garrisoned there and compelled to bear their children because ethically abortion was out of the question for them. But rather than own up to these despicable rapes and rampant sexual abuse the MoD despite the vast amount of evidence to support these ladies claims sought to and successfully portrayed in the media, when these Black women complained of what had happened to them, that they were “prostitutes” who were out for pecuniary advantage by sullying the good name of these British soldiers.

Now that might satisfy the brain-dead in Britain who have an exaggerated and even a delusional; notion of who and what the British Armed Forces are, but I served in the RAF and know from firsthand just how barbaric some elements of our boys can be. But there are other Blacks too; and in this case the Aborigines of Australia whose children were forcibly taken from their parents and sent to concentration camps – for essentially that’s precisely what they were – to effectively have their blackness bred out of them; babies and toddlers among them. But will there be an inquiry about their treatment? Don’t hold your breath on that one. So my deliberate stance on saying “Fuck You” in relation to this British “inquiry” isn’t because of any insensitivity on my part towards the “genuine” victims involved but simply because I’m sick and fucking tired of the conceited assumption on the part of whites and especially British ones that only white Caucasians have sensitivities, unlike every other race, and when these are trodden upon regardless of when this is supposed to have happened these must humanely and understandably be dealt with in a manner that only whites are exclusively entitled to; never mind white Britain and Europe’s loathsome conduct globally for centuries, and which is still ongoing, as regards millions of other unfortunate victims – yes victims – in the Global South.

But the poem that I’m written: “Uncaringly, I was just another sexual abuse statistic!” is based on a real life story that I know of from personal experience and involved a young female who from her earliest childhood was sexually abused by her biological father and with the complicit assistance of her own mother. Incidentally all the participants were white.

Rachel and I first met in rather compromising circumstances for her. She was accidentally seen by me shoplifting in an Indian grocery store where I was and was a frequent shopper myself but before I could approach her and politely request that she refrained from what she was doing but with her apparently also having been seen by one of the store’s staff members Rachel was confronted, detained and the police about to be summoned. Knowing the store’s manager as I personally did this girl who was a complete stranger to me and only about 14 years old at the time and I could clearly see was thoroughly frightened by the consequences of her actions, I intervened on her behalf with the store’s manager and persuaded him not to call the police.

I then paid for the items that Rachel, whose name I’d acquired from her, had stolen as she had no money with her. Then with a firm but measured reprimand of her by the shop’s manager and with my business card to a local, voluntary outreach and extra-curricular educational project that I’d set up a while back and was in charge of running handed to her and additionally my invitation to her to attend some of its sessions if she cared to, Rachel left the Indian grocery store.

As I’d expectantly hoped for Rachel not only attended but also became actively involved in the project itself during which time and with my having gained her confidence, and respect I guess, she voluntarily and openly confided in me about her past; essentially her life history. Superbly in due course and as a direct consequence of her involvement with the project Rachel became an absolutely transformed individual, a process that saw her embrace life fully, what it had to offer her and appreciably how she could positively make the most of it, a situation that resulted in her becoming an impressively university-qualified person in the field of work that she freely and decidedly opted for. But significantly too the loving wife and adorable mother whom in the darkest hours and most traumatic growing up years she’d enforcedly and without familial help endured solemnly vowed that were she to survive to adulthood she’d never become. Now all of that was emphatically behind her.