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“My father raped me on his matrimonial bed.” — Toyin Falaiye.

“My father raped me on his matrimonial bed.” — Toyin Falaiye.

Nov 1, 2023

Such a gory experience for a young child. Toyin Falaiye found courage and decided to tell her story in the most encouraging way. She took her time to dissect what actually transpired between her father and her while growing up.

Toyin shares how it all started at a tender age when she refused to go back to the village with her father. Just thought to herself, education in Lagos will give her the chance to be whoever she desires to be. To her huge shock, the man she had always known as a father started molesting her and threatened to kill her if she told anyone about it.

Toyin Falaiye delved deeper into how the experiences pushed her into attempting suicide and entering depression.

In her emotional words:

“Sexual abuse was the price I had to pay to get an education. I attempted my first suicide at 15. I remember that day vividly well. It was the day of the Ikeja Cantonment bomblast. And mummy – I hate to call her my aunt or adopted mother ’cause she raised me – had gone out and then there was news of the bomblast and she wasn’t coming back so it was just myself and Daddy that was home.

“So the neighbors came and said ‘Don’t worry, she’d be back, we’re hopeful’. And you know, the GSM wasn’t popular yet so there was no way to even reach her. So that night when everybody left, I knew this night was doom’s day as usual because this time around, it’s just going to be Daddy and I alone so he’d have a filled day and he did have a filled day, especially this time around on his matrimonial bed.

“And so fast forward to the next morning when Mummy came back miraculously, this man was the first person who ran to the door, gave her a kiss and a hug, and I died inside. I felt, ‘How does this person double role?’. So I went into the kitchen and picked up a knife and I didn’t know what I was going to do with the knife. One mind said ‘Stab yourself’, the other mind said ‘Go and stab him behind’. So I was still making that decision and I started slitting my wrist when my mum walked into the kitchen and asked what I was doing and I said I was trying to arrange the plates that I had washed, you know I just made up an excuse. And I think that’s the day I can define depression because I didn’t know I had been dying slowly.

“So it continued until when I was 17 going to 18.
Was I smart? Yes!
Was I a good girl? Yes!
But I was dying slowly.”

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