VICTORIA

He grabbed her forcefully

Like her waist held water for his thirst

Her scream rang like a siren,

Piercing the air with fearful pleas

But the mad dog had gone deaf

And the empty street was blind



He placed a hanky over her face

And she slumped into his arms like a stunned pig.

Big boy picked her up like a trophy

Ran into the bush like a child with stolen biscuits



He pulled her covers,

Layer by layer, till she lay bare

He ran his lips…

Like he mapped his territory

Every organ at alert

Dinner was ready

Poor girl was the meat



He began the exercise—

His frame to hers

He broke the seal of her purity

Emptied the blood of her pride

Painted shame upon her gown

Stabbed in pain into her waist

He made her woman



So no—

Not for once did his brain calculate the pain she’d feel:

Spirit, soul, and body

No

Not for once



The mad dog wasn’t just mad

He had an empty rib cage

His soul wasn’t just soiled by the hood—

It was lost



He rose from her,

A satisfied lion

The prey successfully devoured

And like lions don’t clear the carcass,

He left her lying there—

Shame exposed

And walked away

With the strut of a big boy




Moments later—


Her ears picked the clicks

Her eyes caught the flashes

The camera took the shots

The bloggers smelt it—

A pregnant newsflash,

A story for the clicks and comments

And her face and frame

Flooded every page



Like royalty came to town,

Everyone rushed to watch her—

A queen displayed in glorious shame

While they hustled to repost

This queen took a quick trip to the bridge

Eyes closed

Arms raised like the thief on the cross

She pulled the stunt,

But unlike Jackie Chan

She was buried beneath the sea

No body to see


 

Mama never saw her girl again

Just a bloated floating corpse

Washed off the bank


Her Corper girl was gone

Like Simon of Cyrene

She bore the cross given by another

The one who stole dignity from her

Like Christ

She was crucified for the sins of a beast

The one who stained her with blood—

Her blood.


Her innocence.


All because his blood was too hot

Self control got burnt—

For short pleasure



Family and friends gather

Case reach police

Justice for Victoria,

Justice for Victoria

Was the chant

Even the media echoed the chant

After all na anywhere belly face

Media face


“We’re on it”

“We’re on it”

“Write a statement”

“Come tomorrow”

And like marrow,

The case was buried

Within bones of hard-cover books



All it took was the oiling of hands

And Victoria was lost

In the seas of human thoughts


But to those who called her sister,

She remains a memory—

Carefully hidden

Never buried




Who will give victory to Victoria?


They are many 

And many more to be



So, who will fight for victim Victorias?


Who will stop this menace

For life?


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