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This article first appeared on Michelle Solomon's blog, and has been re-posted here with her permission.
PLEASE NOTE: The “Why I didn’t report” stories are submitted by rape survivors and victims from around South Africa (and a couple from abroad) as well as by their family members and friends. These stories are published anonymously at the request of the authors.
It was October 2010. A very good school friend of mine that I hadn’t seen for 10 years was visiting from Australia, so I met her and her boyfriend after work at the Cape Town hotel they were staying at.
[TRIGGER WARNING: descriptions of rape]
We had a drink or 2 at the hotel bar before heading to a restaurant for dinner. The 3 of us shared a bottle of wine during dinner, and once back at the hotel, we decided to head back to the hotel’s bar for a nightcap.
Her boyfriend decided to return to the room. The hotel bar staff asked us to move to one of the tables in the restaurant, and that is the last thing I remember.
I woke up to someone banging on my car window. I was dazed and confused and had absolutely no idea where I was. It was a patrolling security guard that was knocking on my window. At that point I began to panic as I realised that my handbag and car keys were gone.
I asked the guard to call the police and get help. I was still really disoriented, but I slowly started to realise that I was sitting in the driver’s seat of my car, all doors were locked. Car keys gone.
The passenger seat was covered in vomit and faeces and the most worrying of all – my jeans and panties were around my ankles.
The police arrived, and I remember saying to them over and over I don’t know where I am, please help me. I remember hearing them laughing and saying among themselves in Afrikaans something to the affect of “look at this woman who’s had too much to drink”.
Eventually a female police officer appeared at my window and told me to pull my pants up. Somehow I remembered my sister’s cell number to give to the police, and as she lives in Jo’burg, she called my aunt who lives in Stellenbosch to come and help me.
The police hadn’t told her what we were supposed to do, so she took me to Constantiaberg hospital who said if they examined me, the evidence couldn’t be used by the police.
We had to go to a government hospital. We went to Victoria hospital, they said you can’t just arrive for an examination, in cases like this you have to be escorted by the police.
We went to the Wynberg police station, they said that they couldn’t help as I had been found in Observatory – we had to go to the Woodstock police station.
By this stage I was feeling awful, and a number of times my aunt had to pull over so I could throw up.
Some details are a bit hazy as I was still not completely with it, but I remember we were taken to a wooden wendy house/shed that had a bed, a tv, a table and a few chairs. People came in to take my statement and I was told we had to wait until someone came to escort us to the district surgeon.
We waited and waited and waited. My aunt went to find a cafe to buy herself some coffee and got some water for me. More people came to get more details from me and when they saw the water told me I’m not supposed to eat or drink anything before I’ve seen the district surgeon as it could affect test results.
I had been found probably before 6am and we were only taken to the district surgeon after 1pm. In all this time I was not supposed to eat or drink anything. I was still in my soiled clothes.
The examination by the district surgeon was the most humiliating experience of my life. I still have absolutely no recollection of what happened that night. I don’t remember leaving the hotel. To this day I wouldn’t know how to get to the place where I was found.
I had no pain. But the physical evidence showed I had been raped. When I had to return the next day to collect more medication, he decided for some reason to go into great detail about my history.
Did I have a boyfriend? Why didn’t I have a boyfriend? (I had lost my husband to cancer after 6 weeks of marriage 2 years prior when I was 25)
What was my family life like? Were my parents married? (They are divorced)
Had I been drinking? More than one drink?
This lead him to the conclusion that I had unresolved issues that had made me a victim. And if I didn’t resolve these things, I was likely to have this happen again.
I was called to the detective unit. I travelled up in the lift with 2 gentlemen and the room I was directed to was next to another room with an open door where a man in handcuffs was sitting. The men in the lift went into that room.
The policeman I was due to see told me that the handcuffed man next door had been arrested in connection with my stolen cellphone.
For all I knew, I could have just walked past my rapist and shared a lift with his friends… I was told the date I needed to meet with the prosecutor. I had to be there at 8am.
Myself and a few other ladies were seated in a room and again, we waited and waited and waited. When the prosecutor arrived, I asked her what time we would be seen as we had all been waiting for a really long time.
She was really aggressive and told me that she was in and out of court and would basically see us when she saw us.
As I waited I saw one lady called in and leave her office in an absolute state. She said that the prosecutor had pulled holes in her story till the point where she was practically accusing her of lying. I was left until last (I feel because I had asked her how long it was going to take) and only saw her after 4:30 that afternoon.
All she could tell me was that the police hadn’t given her my file so she would have to call me back another day. That was it. I am still waiting for that call from her.
Months later I received a voicemail from a policeman, but I actually didn’t bother to call him back as I was so disillusioned.
I have never felt so alone in my whole life as through that whole process.
If only there had been someone who would have been kind, offered me a cup of tea while I waited. Just something that would have said I’m so sorry for what you’re going through – we know the system is tough, but we’re doing our best for you.
Instead, I felt mocked, judged, and like I was an inconvenience. It does not surprise me at all that so many women don’t report their rape. If it ever happened to me again I certainly wouldn’t bother.
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PLEASE NOTE: The “Why I didn’t report” stories are submitted by rape survivors and victims from around South Africa (and a couple from abroad) as well as by their family members and friends. These stories are published anonymously at the request of the authors.
It was October 2010. A very good school friend of mine that I hadn’t seen for 10 years was visiting from Australia, so I met her and her boyfriend after work at the Cape Town hotel they were staying at.
[TRIGGER WARNING: descriptions of rape]
We had a drink or 2 at the hotel bar before heading to a restaurant for dinner. The 3 of us shared a bottle of wine during dinner, and once back at the hotel, we decided to head back to the hotel’s bar for a nightcap.
Her boyfriend decided to return to the room. The hotel bar staff asked us to move to one of the tables in the restaurant, and that is the last thing I remember.
I woke up to someone banging on my car window. I was dazed and confused and had absolutely no idea where I was. It was a patrolling security guard that was knocking on my window. At that point I began to panic as I realised that my handbag and car keys were gone.
I asked the guard to call the police and get help. I was still really disoriented, but I slowly started to realise that I was sitting in the driver’s seat of my car, all doors were locked. Car keys gone.
The passenger seat was covered in vomit and faeces and the most worrying of all – my jeans and panties were around my ankles.
The police arrived, and I remember saying to them over and over I don’t know where I am, please help me. I remember hearing them laughing and saying among themselves in Afrikaans something to the affect of “look at this woman who’s had too much to drink”.
Eventually a female police officer appeared at my window and told me to pull my pants up. Somehow I remembered my sister’s cell number to give to the police, and as she lives in Jo’burg, she called my aunt who lives in Stellenbosch to come and help me.
The police hadn’t told her what we were supposed to do, so she took me to Constantiaberg hospital who said if they examined me, the evidence couldn’t be used by the police.
We had to go to a government hospital. We went to Victoria hospital, they said you can’t just arrive for an examination, in cases like this you have to be escorted by the police.
We went to the Wynberg police station, they said that they couldn’t help as I had been found in Observatory – we had to go to the Woodstock police station.
By this stage I was feeling awful, and a number of times my aunt had to pull over so I could throw up.
Some details are a bit hazy as I was still not completely with it, but I remember we were taken to a wooden wendy house/shed that had a bed, a tv, a table and a few chairs. People came in to take my statement and I was told we had to wait until someone came to escort us to the district surgeon.
We waited and waited and waited. My aunt went to find a cafe to buy herself some coffee and got some water for me. More people came to get more details from me and when they saw the water told me I’m not supposed to eat or drink anything before I’ve seen the district surgeon as it could affect test results.
I had been found probably before 6am and we were only taken to the district surgeon after 1pm. In all this time I was not supposed to eat or drink anything. I was still in my soiled clothes.
The examination by the district surgeon was the most humiliating experience of my life. I still have absolutely no recollection of what happened that night. I don’t remember leaving the hotel. To this day I wouldn’t know how to get to the place where I was found.
I had no pain. But the physical evidence showed I had been raped. When I had to return the next day to collect more medication, he decided for some reason to go into great detail about my history.
Did I have a boyfriend? Why didn’t I have a boyfriend? (I had lost my husband to cancer after 6 weeks of marriage 2 years prior when I was 25)
What was my family life like? Were my parents married? (They are divorced)
Had I been drinking? More than one drink?
This lead him to the conclusion that I had unresolved issues that had made me a victim. And if I didn’t resolve these things, I was likely to have this happen again.
I was called to the detective unit. I travelled up in the lift with 2 gentlemen and the room I was directed to was next to another room with an open door where a man in handcuffs was sitting. The men in the lift went into that room.
The policeman I was due to see told me that the handcuffed man next door had been arrested in connection with my stolen cellphone.
For all I knew, I could have just walked past my rapist and shared a lift with his friends… I was told the date I needed to meet with the prosecutor. I had to be there at 8am.
Myself and a few other ladies were seated in a room and again, we waited and waited and waited. When the prosecutor arrived, I asked her what time we would be seen as we had all been waiting for a really long time.
She was really aggressive and told me that she was in and out of court and would basically see us when she saw us.
As I waited I saw one lady called in and leave her office in an absolute state. She said that the prosecutor had pulled holes in her story till the point where she was practically accusing her of lying. I was left until last (I feel because I had asked her how long it was going to take) and only saw her after 4:30 that afternoon.
All she could tell me was that the police hadn’t given her my file so she would have to call me back another day. That was it. I am still waiting for that call from her.
Months later I received a voicemail from a policeman, but I actually didn’t bother to call him back as I was so disillusioned.
I have never felt so alone in my whole life as through that whole process.
If only there had been someone who would have been kind, offered me a cup of tea while I waited. Just something that would have said I’m so sorry for what you’re going through – we know the system is tough, but we’re doing our best for you.
Instead, I felt mocked, judged, and like I was an inconvenience. It does not surprise me at all that so many women don’t report their rape. If it ever happened to me again I certainly wouldn’t bother.
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