Tuesday, 7 March 2017

Uncaringly, I was just another sexual abuse statistic!

By Stanley Collymore

I never wanted to be a parent having from the very earliest
time that I can remember being sexually abused by my
biological father who although he wasn’t married to
my mother, and never did marry her, nevertheless
still lived with us; and while I was much too
young in the earliest stages of his sexual
abuse of me to fully understand the
sickening nature of his depravity, the consequences of
what he was actually doing and how understandably
perverted and cruelly wrong it all was to me, and
especially so as I was undeniably his daughter.
I did, however, as I grew older and in sheer
desperation by then at long last confide
to my mum my personal misgivings
as I saw them then in relation to
my father’s entirely unnatural
and criminally disgusting
behaviour towards me.

However, instead of her intuitively empathizing with and
lovingly consoling me I instead quickly found myself
entirely dismayed and emotionally stunned by the
equanimity of my mother’s response as regards
what I was telling her as she quite puzzlingly
and chillingly reproached me for being an
insensitive and utterly selfish “big baby”
for callously casting unsubstantiated
aspersions on my dad’s unblemished character and who
in her unnerving words to me “was just expressing
in physical terms his deep-seated and abundant
love for me!” Making it explicitly clear that I
was plainly nowhere - given the invidious
circumstances I was now additionally
placed in - near to convincing my
own mother that what my dad
had time and again done to
me and was still an ongoing situation with
him wasn’t only physically hurting and
emotionally damaging to me but also
and even from my young and very
sexually untutored perspective
was particularly wicked and
totally wrong. Yet in spite
of that my mum on top
of my dad’s rampant
sexual abuse of me had knowingly,
deviously complicit, and all this
coupled with dad’s illicit and
debauched actions towards
me, aggravated this vile
obscenity precisely
through her rank
and abysmal
of me!

© Stanley V. Collymore
4 March 2017.

Author’s Remarks:
I’m well aware that a purported official inquiry reluctantly set up by the British Tory regime and UK parliament both of them shamed into doing so by public pressure and societal opinion and relating to historic child sexual abuse allegations over a period of several decades across Britain is belatedly and shambolically underway. But in reporting this fact let me categorically and unambiguously make it absolutely clear that from a principled and personal perspective neither this inquiry nor its expected future findings, whatever they might turn out to be, are of will they be of the slightest interest to me; and with exceedingly good reasons.

The first of these being that these heinous allegations long and methodically ignored or else brazenly, callously and officially covered up in what’s undeniably class-structured, toadying and cap-doffing Britain by all the relevant authorities that were duty bound to probe them but adamantly, unethically, sycophantically to their perceived social betters and even criminally refused to do so because those making these serious allegations were disdainfully and dismissively regarded at best as Plebeians or worst more generally as the lower classes within the country and who therefore didn’t matter in the least, while those in the firing line of their concerted allegations were, still very much are and will continue to be among Britain’s most nepotistic powerful, massively influential political, financial, governing, social, celebrity and privileged elites and distinctly in every conceivable terms the unchallengeable untouchables as it were!

The second reason: equally logical and quite laudable on my part, is my absolute distrust of those who’re involved with this purported inquiry, which essentially is both from my perspective and scrutinizing observation nothing more than a premeditatedly devised and cynically conducted fraudulent whitewash together with a calculated and deceitful sop to the orchestrated “sensitivities” of a seriously unthinking and wholly incapable of doing so British public that is always eager to jump onto any populist-perceived bandwagon which might, however ephemerally it might seem at the time or in realistic terms end up being, ameliorate the deeply ingrained and totally insecure awareness of their manifest lack of self-worth.

A chaotic inquiry, to say the least, which was foot-draggingly at best and with implacable resistance and consummate hostility for the greater part and most of the time by all those who were enforcedly through mounting public pressure embarrassingly obliged to set it up, actually deigned to arrogantly insult the acuity of the crucially intelligent among the British public by nepotistically drafting in those from among its own privileged ranks and the said category of persons that were closely allied with those under suspicion for these ghastly crimes to literally “investigate” these people. Common-o-garden natural justice, neutrality and fair play aside a position that either didn’t dawn on or was knowingly and asininely ignored by those who were responsible for this totally obtuse state of affairs.

Yet despite their absolute incompetence were all the same haughtily taking no cognizance of these facts until the enormous tidal wave of the public’s overwhelming condemnation and mounting pressure unmistakably and grudgingly forced them to cosmetically tamper with their designated and instituted modus operandi which was and still is to permanently shield from universal public exposure, justifiable opprobrium, irrevocable ignominy and the genuine prospect of humiliating prosecution the plethora of perverts, paedophiles and the other inured criminal  and sexual deviants that form an integral of the establishers’ of this “supposed” inquiry’s intimately close and intricately interwoven network of personal friends, loyal associates as well as their coterie of treasured political, financial and social “privileged elite” circles that comprise the ruling classes of Britain.

My third and principal reason of the several others which readily come to mind and justly necessitate my taking the principled stance I have, is that all of these “victims” even at a cursory glance are irrefutably white. What’s wrong with that I hear you ask; can’t whites be victims too? Of course they can, is my blunt and honest answer but NOT exclusively so! For I know and every other principled person does that Blacks and other non-whites not only in Britain but for several centuries across its global empire have routinely been victims of English and British barbarities and among these infernally massive catalogues of their atrocious crimes have been recurrent and barbaric sexual abuse. And to cite just two examples of these there’s my own case and that of my fellow Afro-Caribbean kith and kin – a cute expression which you whites lovingly like to use as regards yourselves. Don’t get me wrong! I have never been personally raped or sexually abused by anyone whether white or Black and had anyone tried to, far less so succeeded in achieving their sick objective and at any stage of my life, I’m absolutely certain that they wouldn’t now be around to boast about it; for knowing what had been done to me even so as a child I would have sought them out in my adulthood and killed them. No! I’m simply referring, in my reference to the above, to the systematic and callous implantation of the white male Y chromosome that was enforcedly injected into my personal DNA system and that of all other Afro-Caribbean people - whether they’re living at home in the West Indies or in our wider global Diaspora – directly occasioned by the most unrelenting and methodical rape of our Black female ancestors within those Caribbean islands; so much so that most of us Caribbean Blacks have more white genes in us than several of you who hubristically and vaingloriously claim to be white.

My second example also includes Black people, and in this particular case rural Kenyan women living in and from long-established tribal social communities, who were in more recent times routinely gang-raped and heartlessly impregnated in the process by British soldiers garrisoned there and thereafter compelled to bear their children because morally and culturally abortion was out of the question for them. But rather than own up to these despicable rapes and rampant sexual abuse the MoD despite the vast amount of evidence to back these ladies claims sought to and successfully managed to portray in the British media with the help of their embedded stenographers passing themselves of as bona fide journalists when these contemptibly sexually abused Black women complained of what happened to them, that they were local Kenyan “prostitutes” who were primarily out for pecuniary advantage to themselves by sullying the good name of these British soldiers.

Now that deliberate false rationale on the part of the MoD might satisfy the brain-dead in Britain who as the inveterate Empire loyalists that they are have an exaggerated and even a markedly delusional; notion of who and what the British Armed Forces are, but I served in the RAF and know from firsthand just how barbaric some elements of our boys can be. But there are other Blacks too who were victims of the British and their kith and kin; and in this particular case the ones I’m referring to are the indigenous Aborigines of Australia whose conspicuously young children, and principally girls, were compulsorily taken from their parents and sent to concentration camps – for in actual fact that’s exactly what they were – to effectively have their blackness forcibly through rape and conception bred out of them; babies and toddlers among these hapless British proscribed “Untermenschen” or Black undesirables. But will there ever be an inquiry about or into their odious treatment? Don’t hold your breath on that one I implore you. So my quite deliberate stance on saying “Fuck You” in relation to this British “inquiry” isn’t because of any insensitivity on my part towards the “genuine” victims involved but merely because I’m absolutely sick and fucking tired of the conceited assumption on the part of whites generally and British ones in particular that only white Caucasians have sensitivities and are entitled to them, unlike every other race that is, and when these are purposely trodden upon, invariably by other whites themselves, and regardless of when this is supposed to have happened these said sensitivities must humanely and naturally understandably be dealt with in a manner that only whites are exclusively entitled to; never mind in this one-sided equation the rather loathsome conduct which for several centuries was carried on globally by Britain either independently or together with other European countries, and that is still very much an ongoing situation in the 21st Century as regards millions of other unfortunate victims – yes victims – in the Global South.

But the poem that I’ve written: “Uncaringly, I was just another sexual abuse statistic!” is based on a real life story that I know of from personal experience and involved a young female who from her earliest childhood was sexually abused by her biological father and with the involved complicit assistance of her own mother. Incidentally all the participants were white.

Rachel and I first met in rather compromising circumstances for her. She was accidentally seen by me shoplifting in an Indian grocery store where I was and was a frequent shopper myself but before I could approach her and politely request that she refrained from what she was doing but with her apparently also having been seen by one of the store’s staff members Rachel was confronted, detained and the police about to be summoned. Knowing the store’s manager as I personally did this girl who was a complete stranger to me and only about 14 years old at the time and I could clearly see was thoroughly frightened by the consequences of her actions, I intervened on her behalf with the store’s manager and persuaded him not to involve the police.

I then paid for the items that Rachel, whose name I’d acquired from her, had stolen as she had no money with her. Then with a firm but measured reprimand of her by the shop’s manager and with my business card to a local, voluntary outreach and extra-curricular educational project that I’d set up a while back and was in charge of running handed to her and additionally my invitation to her to attend some of its sessions if she cared to, Rachel left the Indian grocery store.

As I’d expectantly hoped for Rachel not only attended but also became actively involved in the project itself during which time and with my having gained her confidence, and respect I guess, she voluntarily and openly confided in me about her past; essentially her life history. Superbly in due course and as a direct consequence of her involvement with the project Rachel became an absolutely transformed individual, a process that saw her embrace life fully, what it had to offer her, and appreciably how she could positively make the most of it; a situation that resulted in her becoming an impressively university-qualified person in the specific field of work that she’d freely and decidedly opted for. But significantly too developing remarkably into the loving wife and adorable mother whom in the very darkest hours and most traumatic growing up years of her life which she’d enforcedly and without familial help painfully endured had solemnly vowed that were she to ever survive that period of her life into adulthood she’d never become. Now all of that was emphatically and thankfully behind her.

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