This article is written for the purpose of the recent rape allegation making rounds between Busola Dakolo and Pastor Fatoyinbo of COZA church. This piece is mostly committed to compare Busola’s rape allegations and that of Soraya’s rape tale against Gaddafi and to conclude that her story cannot be far from the truth. Busola’s story should be viewed from the angle of men in leadership positions who use their status to abuse women, and how contradicting the prey’s story always appears to the listener’s ears, and observers like you and I. Therefore, we must reason it from a different angle this time around, because of the pretentious history of most “Men of Veil” and how easily they deceive their victims. The possibility that he raped her cannot be ruled out for the purpose of clout or financial gains, but should be highly weighed for the reason that he, men who are drunk with power see themselves as mini gods; untouchable and undoubtable, and we see them as stainless and perfect, but are most times deceitful and monstrous — not who they portray to be. Below is a story of rape, which shares abuse and authoritative similarities with the alleged sexual predator in question.
A few years ago I visited the United Nations head quarters in Geneva, Switzerland, and before my research was over I paid the library a visit and stumbled upon a book called “Gaddafi’s Harem” written by Annick Cojan, about the story of a young woman and the abuses of power in Libya.
The book narrates the story of Soraya a 15 years old Libyan schoolgirl in the coastal town of Sirte, who was given the honour of presenting a bouquet of flowers to colonel Gaddafi, on a visit he was making the following week. This meeting — a presentation of flowers, a pat on the head from Gaddafi, changed Soraya’s life forever. Soon after, she was summoned and joined a number of young women who were violently abused, raped and degraded by Gaddafi.
“…I told you to get ready your master is waiting….”
“….She stayed there until I put the G-strings and blue negligee on, and then had me follow her upstairs. Then I was pushed into the room and door closed behind me…”
“…He was naked, lying on a large bed with beige sheets in a windowless room of the same colour…”
““Come here my little whore”, he said as he opened his arms. “Come on, don’t be afraid!…””
“…I was dreaming of a way to escape but I knew that Mabrouka was lying in ambush behind the door..…”
“….I remained motionless, so he leaped to his feet and with a force that took me by surprise he grabbed my arm, threw me on the bed, and flung himself on top of me….”
““…I tried to push him away, but he was heavy and I couldn’t manage it. He bit my neck, my cheeks, my chest. I fought back, screaming. He shouted, “Don’t move you dirty whore!” He beat me, crushed my breast, and then after pulling up my dress and pinning my arms down, he brutally penetrated me….””
“…He finally pushed his penis inside me…”
“….I will never forget that moment. He violated my body, but pierced my soul with a dagger. The blade never came out….”
“…I was devastated. I had no strength left and I stayed completely still, just weeping. When he was done, he rose to get a small red towel he kept within arm’s reach, ran it between my thighs, and disappeared into the bathroom….”
“…I bled for three days. They said I was injured inside….”
“….On the fourth day, I was taken into his room and he started all over again, with the same violence and using the same awful words. I bled profusely after and Galina warned Mabrouka: Don’t let them touch her again! Next time it will be really dangerous….”
““…On the fifth day, they brought me to his room. He put on a cassette of ancient Bedouin songs into an old tape recorder and shouted at me; “Go on, dance, you whore! Dance! I hesitated . “Go on, go on! He was clapping his hands. I started a small movement and then continued tentatively. Women were coming in to clear his dishes or whisper something to him, indifferent to my presence. “Keep going, you slut!” he said without taking his eyes off me. His penis grew hard; he got up to grab me, slapped me on the tights. “What a whore! And then he spewed all over me. That same evening he forced me to smoke a cigarette…
“…On the sixth day, he received me with a whiskey in his hand. “Its time you started drinking, my whore. I have aways heard the Koran forbade the drinking of alcohol and Ghadaffi was an extremely religious man….
“…I was his prisoner and at his mercy! The girl sitting beside me in the car noticed my tears. Oh little one! They told me they took you from school….”
““…He raped me again. and then afterwards he got up to eat a garlic clove, a habit which caused him to have perpetually fowl breath. “Now get out of here you slut”. As I left the room Galina and two other Ukrainian nurse went in. That was the morning I realised I was dealing with a madman…””
“….But who knew it? Papa, Mama, the Lybians….. No one knew what was going on at Bab al-Azizia. Everyone was scared stiff of Gaddafi, because resisting or criticising him meant being thrown into prison or put to death.””
“…I would never be able to tell my story, because it was Muammar Gaddafi. So, in addition to having been defiled, I was the one people would consider mad.…”
Soraya says in the book “Gaddafi’s Harem”
Reflecting Soraya’s story and comparing it to the recent story of Busola Dakolo, who narrated how pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo of COZA church raped her when she was a teenager, mainly represents how powerful leaders take advantage of their positions without a blink of an eye. The most disturbing issue about such scenario’s is that the abuser are mostly men who are looked upon as holy and clean. So, the idea that they can be that heartless and callous is what makes 100% of their victims look as though they are liars, who only want to paint such an admirable leader in a negative image and destroy his life’s worth. But we must understand that icons and heroes were ordinary men with pleasant and distasteful habits before they wore the garment of honour and therefore, could be found wanting in unrealistic situations and involved in despicable crimes. It is important to note that the people who can bring one the greatest harm are those who he/she trust without a doubt. Unfortunately for a believer, this figure see’s how much he possesses his follower and then uses this opportunity to damage the purity or appearance of his worshipper.
In public, Gaddafi claimed to have women’s rights at his heart, by evidently surrounding himself with female bodyguards. His actions were perceived as a means to completely rescue the women of Libya in order to liberate them from a society of prolonged cruel and unjust treatments —despotism and enslavement.
However, he was an ugly monster to the gender he professed to love and respect. Fuelled by cocaine, alcohol, cigarettes, viagra and pornography, Soraya was raped, beaten, abused, locked up without food or water for days and even urinated on by a man who claimed to be the saviour of women in the Arab world. She was just one of thousands of young Libyan girls and women who were kidnapped from their schools, homes or places of work and forced to be Gaddafi’s sex slaves. While some women were even abducted during their wedding ceremonies, others were wives and daughters of senior figures who were blackmailed, bribed, cajoled and forced into having sex with the then dictator of Libya. Enjoying the act of degrading these girls and women, he also relished the power sex presented him over other men, as he took great pleasure in sexually abusing young men.
Although Soraya’s abuser is dead, the pain he inflicted on his country’s women will never go away, as rape subjugates women. Because of the stigma of rape, very few of Gaddafi’s female victims are willing to talk about what happened to them. As one of his victim said: “I would kill myself instantly if I knew that my husband or children could find out about my past one day.”
Gaddafi used sex not only as a physical weapon, but as a political tool through which he could exercise his power. Such a tale might seem like something from the imagination of a particularly brilliant and vicious pornographer but, shockingly, it is true. So tell me, why can’t Busola Dakolo’s story be true? Nevertheless, her story should not be perceived only as “The truth” because she is a woman who seems to be doing well for herself or married to a popular man or with children, but should be considered true because men in authority have overtime subdued women with abuse, especially sexual misuse, as such behaviour mostly comes with the territory.
By all accounts, Gaddafi was “The Guide”— a great spiritual leader, he was called “Papa”, possessing similar authority on his followers just as Biodun Fatoyinbo is “A Pastor”. The shocking news of the colonel’s crimes against women was a bitter-truth to digest after his death. So therefore, it is not impossible for Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo, who some refer to as an extraordinary blacksmith, mentor and life coach, not to have committed the crime levied against him and also not too mighty not to pay for his crimes if found guilty.