When Kenyan Terry Gobanga -then Terry Apudo- failed to show up on her wedding day, no one could have imagined that she had been kidnapped, raped and left for dead on the side of a road. It was the first of two tragedies to hit her. But she survived. See her statement below:
"It was going to be a big wedding. She was a pastor, so all the members of our church were invited, as were our relatives. My fiancé, Harry, and I were very excited – after all, we were getting married at the All Saints Cathedral in Nairobi [capital of the Kenya] and I had rented a beautiful dress.
But the night before the wedding, I realized that some of Harry's clothes were with me, including his tie. He couldn't get married without her, so a friend who had spent the night at my house offered to take her to him first thing in the morning. We woke up in the early hours of the morning and I took her to the bus stop.
As I was walking home, I passed a man who was sitting on the hood of a car. Suddenly he grabbed me from behind and threw me into the backseat. There were two more men inside the vehicle, which left.
It all happened in a fraction of a second.
A cloth was stuffed into my mouth. I kicked, struggled and tried to scream. When I managed to free myself from the gag, I shouted: 'It's my wedding day!' That's when I got the first punch. One of the men told me to 'cooperate or I would die'.
The men took turns raping me. I knew I was going to die, but I was fighting for my life, so when one of the men took the cloth out of my mouth, I bit his penis. He screamed in pain and another stabbed me in the stomach. Then they opened the door and threw me out of the moving car.
I was miles from home, outside of Nairobi. More than six hours had passed since she had been kidnapped.
A child saw me being thrown out of the car and called his grandmother. People came running. When the police arrived to feel my pulse, no one could. They thought she was dead, wrapped me in a sheet and started taking me to the morgue. But on the way I choked and coughed. The police officer asked me: 'Are you alive?' So he turned around and took me to the biggest public hospital in Kenya.
I arrived in shock, I mumbled incoherent words. I was half-naked and covered in blood, and my face was swollen from the punch. But something made the head nurse suspect that I was a bride. 'Let's go to the churches and ask if there isn't a missing bride,' she told the nurses.
By coincidence, the first church they called was All Saints Cathedral. 'Are you missing a bride?' asked the nurse.
'Yes, there was a wedding at 10am and she didn't come.'
When I didn't show up at church on time, my parents panicked. People came out to look for me. Rumors spread. Some wondered: 'has she changed her mind'. Others said: 'It's not like her...what happened?'
After a few hours, they removed the decorations so the next ceremony could be held. Harry was placed in the sacristy to wait.
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| Kenyan Terry Gobanga, who was raped and stabbed on her wedding day |
When they heard where I was, my parents came to the hospital with practically all of their guests. Harry was carrying my veil. But the press quickly got wind of the story and journalists began to surround the hospital.
I was taken to another hospital where I had more privacy. That's when the doctors treated my injuries and shared one of the worst news of my life: 'the wound was very deep and reached your uterus, and you won't be able to have children'.
I received the morning-after pill, as well as retrovirals to prevent me from contracting HIV. I didn't react, I refused to accept what had happened.
Harry kept saying he wanted to marry me. "I want to take care of her and make sure she comes home healthy," he said.
Truth be told, I wasn't in a position to say yes or no because I still hadn't managed to forget what had happened to me.
Days later, when the sedation wore off, I was able to look him in the eye. He didn't stop apologizing. He felt that I had disappointed him. Some people said it was my fault for leaving the house in the morning. It was very painful, but my family and Harry supported me.
The police were never able to arrest the rapists. Several times, I was called to identify possible suspects, but none of them looked like my attackers. Every time I went to the police station, it was painful and ended up harming my recovery. In the end, I said to the police: 'You know something? I'm fed up with this.'
Three months after the attack, I received my negative HIV test result and I was very happy, but they told me I should wait another three months to be sure. Still, Harry and I started planning our 'second' wedding.
Although I was very angry about the pressure from the press, someone read my story and asked me to meet with me. Her name was Vip Ogolla, and she survived rape. We talked, and she told me that she and her friends wanted to throw me a wedding party for free.
'Do what you want,' she said.
I was static. I chose a different type of cake, much more expensive. Instead of a rented dress, now I could buy one.
In July 2005, seven months after what would have been our first wedding, Harry and I got married and went on our honeymoon.
Almost a month later, we were home on a very cold night. Harry lit a coal heater and placed it in the room. After dinner, he took him out because the room was already warm enough. I threw myself under the covers and he locked the house. So he came here and said he was a little dizzy, but we didn't think much of it.
It was so cold that I couldn't sleep, so I suggested we get another blanket. But Harry said he couldn't do it, as he didn't have the strength. Strangely, I couldn't get up. We realized something was wrong. He fainted. I fainted. I still remember what happened. I remember talking to him. At times he responded to me, at other times he didn't. I got out of bed and vomited, which gave me back my strength.
I crawled to the phone. I called my neighbor and said: 'something is wrong. Harry isn't responding.'
She came to my house immediately, but it took me a long time to crawl and open the front door, as she kept fainting. I saw a crowd of people coming in, shouting. And then I passed out again.
I woke up in the hospital and asked where my husband was. They told me they were taking care of him in the other room. I said: 'I'm a pastor, I've been through many situations in my life, I need you to be straight with me.'
The doctor looked at me and said: 'I'm sorry, your husband died'.
I couldn't believe it.
Returning to the church for the funeral was horrible. A month before, I was there wearing my white dress. Harry was waiting for me at the altar, in his suit. Now, she was dressed in black and he was inside a coffin.
People thought I was cursed and stopped their children from getting close to me. 'There is a bad omen about her,' they said. At a certain point, I came to believe that.
Others accused me of killing my husband. It really made me feel really bad – I was in mourning.
The autopsy showed what really happened: after carbon monoxide took over his body, he began to suffocate.
I collapsed. I felt betrayed by God, betrayed by everyone. I couldn't understand how people were laughing, having fun, and getting on with their lives. I died to myself.
One day I was sitting on the porch looking at the birds and I said to myself, 'God, how can you take care of the birds and not me?'
At that moment, I remembered that there are 24 hours in a day – staying locked in the house with the curtains closed is a waste of time. Before you know it, weeks, months and years have passed. The reality is harsh.
I told everyone I would never marry again. God took my husband, and the thought of experiencing another loss was too much for me. It's something I wouldn't wish on anyone. The pain is so intense, you feel it in every part of your body.
But there was one man –Tonny Gobanga– who continued to visit me. He encouraged me to talk about my husband and the good times we had together. One time he didn't call me for three days and I was very upset. That's when I realized I was in love with him.
Tonny asked me to marry him, but I told him to buy a magazine, read my story, and tell me if he still loved me. He came back and stated that he still wanted to marry me.
But I said, 'Listen, there's another thing – I can't have children, so I can't marry you.'
'Children are a gift from God,' he replied. 'And if we have them, amen. Otherwise, I will have more time to love you.'
After that, I said 'yes'.
Tonny went to tell his parents about the wedding, who were very excited, until he heard my story. 'You can't marry her – she's cursed,' they said.
My father-in-law refused to come to the wedding, but we decided to go ahead with the plans. We had 800 guests – many came out of curiosity.
Three years after my first marriage, I was very scared. When we were exchanging vows, I thought, 'I'm here again, Father, please don't let him die.'
When the congregation prayed for us, I cried uncontrollably.
A year after we got married, I felt bad and went to the doctor – to my surprise, I found out I was pregnant.
Months passed and they put me in bed because of the knife wound in my uterus. But everything went well, and we had a girl, who we called Tehille. Four years later, we had another, Towdah.
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| Terry and her two daughters, Tehille and Todah |
Today, my father-in-law and I have a great relationship.
I wrote a book, Crawling out of Darkness, about my life. My goal was to give people hope. I also set up an NGO, called Kara Olmurani.
We work with rape survivors, as I like to call them, not rape victims. We offer therapy and support. We want to build a shelter for them, where they can stay until they can face reality again.
I forgave my attackers. It wasn't easy, but I realized it wasn't worth it. My faith encourages me to forgive and not return evil with evil, but with good.
The most important thing for me was mourning. Go through each step of it. Stay sad until you can deal with the situation. You have to keep moving forward, even if you have to crawl. But follow the direction of your destiny because it is waiting for you."
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| Terry Gobanga with her husband, Tonny, and their two daughters |
