Liberation Is Here by Nikole Lim

Author:Nikole Lim [Lim, Nikole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Social Science, Philanthropy & Charity, Violence in Society, Religion, Christian Living, Women's Interests, Sexual Abuse & Harassment
ISBN: 9780830831852
Google: vxzUDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: InterVarsity Press
Published: 2020-09-22T05:25:43+00:00

The hospital supplied me with tiny yellow antibiotics and said I had an “unknown virus.” A friend suggested I move out of the bustling township and into her quiet home. I stayed there to recover from many things unknown to me.

I had overworked myself in an attempt to be strong and to dispel the lie of weakness. I thought that if I only worked harder, if I could only see an end to this injustice, put these rapists in prison, and put all these survivors in school, then I would be strong. I had imprisoned myself in a web of impossible expectations based on my need to control. But physical illness was something that I could not control.

The dreadful antibiotics weakened me. After taking the yellow pill, I would shut my eyes to trick myself into falling asleep. But my mind was wide awake. I shamed myself for being in this sickly state. How could you run an organization that exists to end sexual violence when sexual violence is perpetuated against your own? If you can’t achieve this mission, what are you even doing? If the very thing that we exist to do—to protect our scholars from violence—continues to happen under our care, your presence has no purpose. You have failed the girls that you have grown to love.

I replayed their stories of trauma in my mind. Mara’s story consumed me with grief. Nekesa’s story consumed me with fear. Mubanga’s story consumed me with anger. Ruby’s story consumed me with uncertainty. These stories haunted me night and day, inhibiting my ability to pray. Even if I tried to pray, I didn’t feel worthy of being heard. It was difficult for me to believe in the presence of God if God did not intervene for these girls in their innocence. “God, where are you?” became my only plea.

I lay in bed unable to move, sweating, nauseous, and barely conscious. I was unable to rest from the anxiety attacks and tormenting flashbacks. In the night, I often awoke in panic with eyes wide open and darkness staring back at me. In the morning, I would often stare out the window into bright sunlight until my eyes began to water. This forced me to cry, because my sorrow refused to express itself in tears.

Feeling vastly distant from God, my memory returned to the conversation with Mara over chai. I remembered the countless times God had freed her: from self-hatred to an all-embracing love, from drug addiction to sobriety, from the dangers of prostitution to the safety of community, from silencing her dreams to pursuing a university degree, from hopeless despair to a powerful example of liberation.

God, where are you?

God was present throughout the trajectory of her story.

The memory of Mara’s liberation gave me the strength to breathe into another day.

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