My Flat, Cresta

Sunday, April 04, 2004

Service: N/A
Food: N/A
Ambience: *
Babe Count: N/A

I managed to speak to my mom around 3:30am, but was too tired to update the site. So now it's around lunchtime on Sunday, and I've just been on the phone to Jacqui. She's being incredibly supportive.

My mom told me everything that happened. I'll report it pretty much as I heard it.

My mom says:

Because of my premonition dream and this guy trying to break in on Sunday, I've been keeping my eyes open. At about 10 or 11 o'clock I had all my lamps and candles on, and I was in the kitchen, and I heard the dogs bark. I knew immediately that it was him.

I blew out all the lights, and grabbed a cast iron skillet, and he came in. But he barged right past the dogs. It looked like he was carrying a gun.

I tried to hit him on the head with the skillet, but he raised his arm. Next thing I knew, he'd shot me. There was this loud bang, like a bullet, and I was down on the ground. Turns out he'd hit me with a knob-kierie, on my left temple. Lots of blood. It's still bleeding now, even though I've got a dressing on it.

So anyway, he only spoke Xhosa. Refused to speak English. Told me to get to the bedroom. So I managed to get off the floor and go towards the bedroom. Hell. The back door is all blocked, so I couldn't get out that way. Only the front door.

But because of the premonition, I've had a can of Doom spray handy, and I knew exactly where it was. It was next to the couch. So instead of going to the bed, I went to the couch.

While he was unzipping, I put my hand down, and felt for the can. Now all I'd have to do is wait for the right moment.

But he lay down on top of me and really hurt my rib. I think it might be broken. And he pressed all of his weight on me. So I had to bring my hand up and try and lever it under him just so I could breathe.

It was horrible, but I was calm. I knew exactly what to do. I was just waiting for the right moment. But he worked at me for about an hour and a half. Just this horrible grinding. I think what saved me is that he didn't have a full erection. It must have been the drink. He was very drunk. I could smell the local beer on him. And I know where they sell that beer. We'll find him.

I kept telling him, in Xhosa, "I'm an old woman, I've got cancer. Why are you doing this?"

And he kept telling me, in Xhosa, "Shut your mouth! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

I was so worried about my bladder. Because of the hysterectomy, my bladder has fallen, and I was so scared that he'd rupture it. But it seems okay. They examined me in the clinic, and it seem all right. Luckily he didn't have a proper erection.

While he was grinding away, I kept my head. Luckily it's full moon, so I could see some details. But I also felt his head while he was trying to kiss me. Sis. That alcohol. But the rest of him was clean. He must have showered before he came here.

He's got a very strange dreadlock style. Not common around here. Normally they have a full head of dreadlocks here in the Transkei. But this one had only a single row of locks, starting around ear level, and they were about eight inches long. Very distinctive. And what I did was to smear as much of my blood over his face and hair and clothes. I wanted him to be easy to pick out in his village.

The blood was from my temple. Luckily nothing was going wrong down there. Just the temple. I was very scared of all the blood. But I thought I'd use it. That's why I smeared it all over him.

But it was getting very difficult to breathe, and my rib was really hurting. Oh yeah... somewhere in the middle of all of this, I put my foot down on the floor and tried to feel for the gun. I still didn't know it was a knob-kierie. So I wanted to know what he had. So I felt it with my foot, and I realised it was just a stick, so I swept it under the couch with my foot.

Shit... it hit something, and some stuff fell off a shelf, and he jumped a bit and threatened me again. I told him it was the dogs, and he calmed down, and carried on grinding away.

Anyway, eventually he got up, and I knew this was my chance. You must remember, I was still on my back, and he was standing in exactly the right position. He was zipping up, and he demanded money. I'd emptied my purse out and hidden my money away about an hour before this happened. I wish I'd been carrying the Doom before. When he came in, I should have had the Doom with me.

So I knew I had my gap. He was asking for money, so I put my hand on the can, and he leaned forward, and I let him have it, in the eyes. And because of my position, I kicked him in the balls. I got him about seven good ones! I can tell you, I felt soft tissue between his legs. I got him. And the Doom too!

I started screaming, cos Wilhellie lives about twenty, thirty metres away on Willie's property. Willie's got connections here, I can tell you. We'll find this guy. We'll find him. Oh yeah... I felt his chin... he's young. I could tell he's never shaved. Smooth. Young.

So he ran away, and it was only a minute or so before Wilhellie arrived. And he took me to Willie's place. We've just come back from the police station and the clinic now. I'm staying at Willie's place. They told me not to shower or anything, but I had to. Sis. I couldn't stand not to. But he didn't ejaculate, I don't think. And anyway, tomorrow morning I have to go to the district surgeon, and they take a swab from deep inside.

I wasn't scared, and I'm very proud of the way I handled it. I really gave it to him with that Doom and kicking him in the balls.

So that's what happened to my mom. Jeez.

Jacqui mentioned anti-retrovirals, to combat the possibility of my mom getting HIV/AIDS from this guy. So I sent my mom an sms early this morning to tell her to insist. And I have the cellphone number of the executive producer of Special Assignment on my phone. One call, and there'll be a nice television crew down there on the next plane to do a story on how inept the government is in dealing with rape cases. Well. That's the threat, anyway. I suppose it's such a common story that maybe they won't. But I do know Chris. And who knows?