He preached me water, whilst forcing a sip of wine into my mouth. He urged me to be a God fearing girl yet he indulged me in sin….

I was in my final high school year, almost sitting for my KCSE, when he seamlessly promoted himself as my mentor. I never saw it coming, but by the time I knew it, he had become a part of my life. I dared not chase him away, the caring shepherd. A mentor, A shoulder to lean on, A friend. Deeper than a student teacher relationship, though I was no longer his student. I convinced myself that he had my best interest at heart, just like all the beasts that have been in my life. I was rather too naive, too stupid, blinded by his well calculated moves toward his ultimatum.

He charmed me, like how he used to call me “osiepa, dearest, dear,” truth be told am awed by sweet words, they are like melodious symphonies, mesmerising the heart. I felt special, you know how a Luo man can make you so full of yourself by sweet empty words, and still you'd fall for them. He was also the funny type, so I'd give everything to be around his wits and crack my ribs from endless laughter.

He motivated me, always saying “through thick and thin we have to make it.” It always felt like my success was personal to him. Like he had become a part of me and my win was his win. He'd say “Mission is the King.” I was never to forget that mission was the king, and he made it his obligation to constantly remind me of that. He felt like my biggest supporter. It all echoed through his constant texts that hinted support and care.

He held my hands and supported my academic goals, somehow managing to wipe away any iota of fear that lingered over me “don't fear dear, all is well” he'd say calming my nerves from the insurmountable academic pressure and rigor. I regained my posture and hit the road with a rejuvenated energy and enthusiasm as he reminded me that “Operation tuende abroad for scholarship.” That was my number one goal, he understood that it mattered to me and cheered

me along. “The girl that I knew in Primary school is gaining herself and soon will smile,” he told me. I so badly wanted to smile. Yet when the smiling bit came, I wanted him by my side.

The bond sprouted and blossomed.“He said we were a thing.” I said we were good friends, at least I told myself. I missed the loud clear hints, or maybe I deliberately chose to ignore them. He said,“I can't wait to see and hug you” and my heart was flattered. I was having fun, not realising that he was also in for the fun, just that his kind of fun was far more different from my kind of fun. He was in for the ride, for his own unquenchable thirsts, that the well of marriage couldn't satisfy.

He invited me to his house one day to help with some chores and stupid me saw it wise to finally return the favour. I went to hell and expected not to burn. It was all warm and cozy until he started touching me and it became lava hot. He took me by surprise, I was frozen. He defiled me, his filthy hands on me, touching me like I were some tomatoes he was squeezing to feel their level of ripeness. I never had the courage to say no, stop him or scream, I let him torment me. I hoped he'd have mercy on me, that he'd stop, I hoped he could hear me screaming STOP. I was afraid and confused, how could he. The little courage in me pulled away before he could ultimately mess me up.

This was the price I had to pay for all that he'd done for me. I wished he'd have named another prize. The guilt within is like an invisible scar that refuses to heal, neither forget, it bears the injustice that can't be undone. The memories breathe of foul freshness, like it all transpired seconds ago.

I ran away in shame, hating my guts for not defending myself, for keeping silent, yet even in silence, I screamed No. He abused my silence, taking it for consent….Part of me still blames me, yet another part of me is slowly mastering the art of healing and forgiveness, and maybe soon I'll forgive myself.

He always told me to be a God fearing girl, yet how was I to be one if he was corrupting my innocence and staining my purity…tempting me with wine, knowing only water is good for me. I'm rather convinced that good is relative, depending on who is benefiting. Am stained with sin, like paint on canvas, yet am still learning to be God fearing God, just as he advised.

Photo by isongphotography

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Comments (4)

• PRL

  January 3, 2026

  An experience well captured just as it happens to many. Definitely, worth reading.

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• Celli ml

  December 29, 2025

  Honestly, these male people that pretend are mentors, God just forgive them

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• Lokumu

  December 29, 2025

  #Break the silence

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• Dennis Wanjiku

  December 21, 2025

  Sometimes the most dangerous wolves do not bare their teeth they carry Bibles, speak gently, and call themselves shepherds. They preach holiness while practicing harm, and when the damage is done, they leave the burden of shame on the innocent. But silence was never consent, trust was never permission, and survival is not weakness. Healing is an act of courage, and reclaiming one’s voice is the truest form of faith.

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