I stood up to a tout who threatened to rape me, motorist shares story

This week, I have opted to depart from the usual analysis of legal and political occurrences, to what may appear mundane and ordinary.

It is a story of the experiences that normal people go through each day, and the joy of small but significant victories, in which ordinary folk refuse to cower to bully-ship and thus help transform the world, one event at a time.

Let me allow Roseline Njogu to tell her story.

“This is a short story about motherhood as feminism. A while ago, I was driving my little car into Eastlands. My daughters, four and three year olds at the time, were in the back. We’d been stuck at the same spot for an hour. Enter a Forward Travellers matatu and its bullishness.

I’m told that Forward T matatus are a law unto themselves. I found out soon enough. The bus came at me, T-boned my little Vitz and drove off as if nothing had happened.

I couldn’t catch the bus even though traffic was moving slowly. I couldn’t leave my car to confront the driver. I had my kids in the car. I felt furious. And helpless.

Another car came by. Someone rolled down their window and said - ‘We pursued the bus. It’s registration Number is KBX xxxx. I’m very sorry’.

I was grateful. I called 999. Told them we were still in traffic. Enter the Forward T touts. They had heard that I was making a fuss. One came to my window and threatened me. I was unmoved. I took his picture.

Then he pulled the line every woman had been socialised to crumble under.

He threatened to rape me. (The word he used was far more crass, of course).

I froze. I immediately felt shame and fear. I understand the fear. The shame, I don’t. Why should I be ashamed that someone wants to hurt me? How is it my fault?

I reached over to roll up my window and cower. Then I caught a glimpse of my daughter in the rear-view mirror.

She was keenly following the exchange. What was she learning from me? I knew at that moment, even though I was terrified, I had to stand up to the bully.

So, I rolled down my window and asked him: ‘Sorry? Did you just say you will rape me? You there, in the green shirt. Wewe ndio umesema utanibaka? Please mark my number plate. I’ll be on this road again at 5pm. Ukuje’.

Then I saw him lose his power over me immediately. He was shocked. I saw the shame in his eyes. The rest of the touts snickered and laughed at him. He cowered. He dropped his gaze. He slipped into the back of the crowd and disappeared.

The cops eventually caught up with the matatu. I did a quick search on the NTSA website and found the owner’s details. I called Forward T, asked them to fix my car post haste, or my firm would be writing directly to the owner.

The following day they sent a manager to my office to bring me cash to fix my car.

At home I fielded a number of questions from my kids: What is rape? Why was that guy saying mean things to you? Were you scared? Why did you speak to him if you were scared of him?

I did my best, while shaking in my boots, to take back power in a very disempowering situation. I chose not to pass on feelings of shame, when threatened with sexual violence, to my daughters.

I chose to call out bad behaviour, even though I was afraid. I chose to take back power. I hope my girls will remember this someday.”

I share this story firstly, to remind us what womenfolk undergo each day, but secondly, to encourage us to never give up standing up for what is right, even when everything in us screams No.

It is these little acts of courage, these little victories, multiplied a thousand times, that truly change the world.

- The writer is an Advocate of the High Court of Kenya