Not Her Real Name

The ugliest and most evil thing that could happen to a female or a male is rape. Sex after all is not just a physical activity—it involves our thoughts and emotions in the process. These are our most private and basic possessions. Once they are accessed against our will (rape is a special case since it is more often than not, violent), the effect will most probably be lasting lacerations on our life and consciousness. Thus, rape violates not just a person’s body, but the core of his or her very being: the identity.

If you’ve been following the news, you’ve probably heard of the PUP gang rape case. A 16-year old Marketing freshman claims that she has been drugged and then raped in turns for three days by 20 students in the PUP campus. There is an ongoing media frenzy regarding this case, and as usual, there is the blow-by-blow account of tests on her vagina and her bloodstream (for drugs), shots of the victim’s silent and immobile body covered with whatever jacket, towel or handkerchief is available, blurred head shots of the alleged rapists, and so on.

For once, I find it hard to be cerebral about this. I don’t know what to think. Of course there is the outrage at the evilness of it all; how could it have happened inside the school premises? What vile, under-age pieces of shit would want to take turns raping a minor–-and hope to get away with it? I mean seriously, do you think twenty people could just sashay in a classroom and say, “oooh, let’s rape her and by the way, Ma’am Ortaleza said we have to read pages 23-50 of Guide to Advertising for Beginners for a test tomorrow, alright? Alright! Let’s get it on! Don’t forget, class at nine AM”? No, I don’t think so. Either the rape victim is lying, or the rapists are just incredibly evil. And stupid.

After the outrage, I feel appalled.  Media coverage can be good. It might manage to enlist hundreds of total strangers to a personal cause where immolation on a major street might not (in which case you’ll still get media attention). If you’re a rape victim (or even if you’re not), you’re in luck, because once you appear on television claiming to be raped, everyone is on your side. Everyone will be quick to condemn the rapist/s—a thirty-second spot on primetime news and you’ve already won the public trial! Everyone would be sorry for you. Everyone will care about you, so much that we want to know how it feels to have twenty different dicks sliding inside your vagina one by one for three grueling days, so much that we want to see your face, eyebags, red eyes, all of that—and oh—we especially want to see your tears and the snot running down your nose. We want to hear the pain in your cracking voice. We want to witness the majesty of your trauma. We want to feel the drama. Why? Because we care about you.

Now, this is the part where I get lost. One, I think that being raped is something that one should never be ashamed of; angry, yes, depressed, shocked, traumatized—but not ashamed. It is not something that a person willfully brings upon him or herself. Two, facing police investigation, the media, and the courts to be ripped into juicy pieces for thorough study requires a whole lot of courage and strength. After all, the search for truth and justice is something that we should all have the guts to do. However. Even considering these two, I feel that rape is too sensitive and painful to be discussed in public. I’m not saying it should be kept secret, but for the peace of the victim and her family, they should not talk too openly about it and we, as mere spectators, should do the same. I don’t know—this is such an archaic view of things. I don’t know what to think or feel regarding this. How about you?

Whichever the case is, I wish Imelda (not her real name) courage, strength and peace of mind. With all my heart.