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My teacher raped me, I am only seven -A poem by Betty Makoni


I wrote this poem after I read an article from Nigeria of a teacher who raped a seven year old girl and was caught right handed. May this signal to everyone out there that sexual abuse of girls by some teachers is rampant and it must be stopped. Conducting spot checks at schools is important. Most girls raped by some teachers were forced to marry them to cover up for rape crime.

My Teacher raped me, I am only seven

When teacher said come to the loo daily
I had no slightest idea it was a lure
I am just seven and severely damaged
I just saw his whole body on me
I called teacher, it hurts
He hurt me even more with a clap
It was not rape you tell me happened to my wiwi
He told me he wanted to take off a snake in my wiwi
Claps and more claps and more claps
With his eyes wide opened
He told me to suck, once, twice and he jumped on me
My teacher raped me, I did not know

When teacher turns against you
With an open and red eye like so
When teacher stops books and he teaches my wiwi a stick
When teacher induces pain like so
When teacher tears every flesh on me
I close my eyes and wait for it to be over
Not so sure what it is but my wiwi hurts
My teacher raped me, I did not know

My teacher raped Shylene twice
Shylene had her dress red in blood
My teacher forced Letwin to suck
Then his stick into her wiwi
She spit it off on way home
She had no underwear when she showed me a red wiwi
Irene crawled when teacher did from the back
She died and buried crying and in pain
Just like a dog to a dog
Us ten girls know teacher stick in the zip

But you know what, am not victim
Am here with pain but still I stand
Never will pain punch me down just so
Still in school and still in there
I wake up morning after morning
Limping in morning dew
With no shoes and no food
With no knowledge and no skills
I limp with two legs torn apart
My teacher, you raped me

Teacher what betrayal, what cruelty
I carried your books and picked your choke
I knelt to give food and even carried your jacket
I cleaned your desk and brought water to clean your hands
I said good morning and even clapped my hands
I looked after you teacher
This is how to say thank you
To tear my wiwi into pieces
To crush my tiny body and hymen
To tear my uterus and my womanhood
My teacher, you raped me

This story was written for World Pulse’s Girls Transform the World Digital Action Campaign.

World Pulse believes that women's stories, recommendations, and collective rising leadership can—and will—bring girls greater access to education which will transform their lives, their families, and communities. The Girls Transform Campaign elicits insightful content from young women on the ground, strengthens their confidence as women, and ensures that influencers and powerful institutions hear their stories.
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Lylinaguas's picture


Hi Betty, I just read your poem and it was heart-rending to read about what these little girls went through, especially when the perpetrator is someone they are supposed to trust..Hopefully, they get to overcome the physical and emotional trauma one day. It is essential that people are made aware that something has to be done to prevent such abuses. Keep writing and let the voices of these little girls be heard through you.

Best regards


estelle's picture

Many girls around the world

Many girls around the world are victims of such societal evil like rape. we all needto put our hands together on deck to help such victims. thanks for sharing

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