Let's Talk About Rape — Empowering survivors, changing the narrative

Just after our election results were announced, the country erupted into violence, which affected where many Kenyans lived, especially in multi-tribal areas.

jacquekine

Conflict-related rape survivor from Kenya

Just after our election results were announced, the country erupted into violence, which affected where many Kenyans lived, especially in multi-tribal areas.

In the place where I lived, there were about three houses within a plot. One night, a friend of a neighbour came banging on my door, past curfew, saying that the police were after him and asking me to let him in. He wanted to wait until the patrol passed before he could go home. I did let him in, but as soon as he entered, I realised he had ill intentions, and he proceeded to violate me. We fought, and things escalated. Eventually, about a month later, I discovered that I was pregnant—this was around 16th January, and I realised I was pregnant on 16th February.

I tried to have an abortion three times, but each attempt failed. Finally, I had the baby, but immediately after, I had to return to the hospital because I developed sepsis. From November until January of the following year (2009), I spent my time in the hospital reflecting and recovering. During this period, I underwent about three operations, one of which was to remove the infection from my Caesarean section.

I tried to have an abortion three times, but each attempt failed. Finally, I had the baby, but immediately after, I had to return to the hospital because I developed sepsis.

jacquekine

Let’s Talk About Rape® is a collaborative, therapeutic project empowering survivors to reclaim their narratives. Through self-portraiture using a shutter release cable, participants set their own agenda as a tool for healing.

Jacqueline, Kisumu, Kenya, 2024

After one particularly difficult surgery, I made a covenant with God, asking Him to save me and my children, as I had three others at home. I couldn’t imagine something happening to me and someone else mistreating them. I promised to use my voice to speak for others if I survived. I went into the theatre, came out, and began my recovery.

After my recovery and counselling, I met many survivors and began hearing horrific stories of other women and girls. I wondered who was speaking for us. I worked with the Truth, Justice, and Reconciliation Commission during that time and met numerous survivors who had been violated. Many had come from different parts of Kenya and had been resettled in various areas or camps, where sexual violence was rampant.

Jacqueline, Kisumu, Kenya, 2024

One day, I was supposed to attend a meeting but was unable to go. I decided to connect with a young girl I had met during my counselling sessions and asked her to attend the meeting on my behalf. Although we had never met in person before, she agreed. After the meeting, we finally met, and I visited her home. I saw the little girl she had given birth to, knowing that both of them were survivors. The child was malnourished and neglected, with skin rashes and poor health. My heart went out to them because the young girl had no family to support her.

Bit by bit, I began to gather mothers and their children at my home for discussions about what we could do together. We wanted to ask the government for help, as we saw that internally displaced persons were receiving support while we, survivors of sexual violence, were ignored. I initially invited four women, each with their children, to talk about how we could help ourselves and the children. However, during our discussions, the neglected children fought and caused chaos, using hurtful names they had learned. I realised that supporting the children without addressing their mothers’ issues would not lead to lasting change.

This is when I decided to focus on the women and mothers instead. We began to form our association, Grace Agenda, because we were often invited to meetings to discuss the extent of violence but left with nothing tangible to help ourselves. We realised we needed to advocate for our own needs and find solutions. Over the years, we have grown; we now have an office and have built our capacity through training with the International Center for Transitional Justice.

I had planned to give her up for adoption. However, after the operation, when I heard a baby crying, I initially thought the nurses should take care of it. Only when I turned and saw the little green bundle next to me did I realise the baby was mine.

jacquekine

Today, we represent about 298 survivors nationwide. Unfortunately, some have passed away, including one woman who did not see the benefits of being part of Grace Agenda, but I hope her children will one day benefit from our fight for justice.

I also need to mention my child, Princess, whom I initially did not want but who is now a 16-year-old force of nature. I named her Princess because she arrived as a beautiful little girl. When I went into the theatre for the Caesarean section, I had planned to give her up for adoption. However, after the operation, when I heard a baby crying, I initially thought the nurses should take care of it. Only when I turned and saw the little green bundle next to me did I realise the baby was mine. In that moment, my heart changed, and I decided to name her Princess, after my mother, Bernadette. We often call her Jasmine B, but more commonly, we call her Princess or Becky.

This is the story of Grace Agenda