Rising from Adversity - Part I
Rising from Adversity - Part I
(a 5 minute read - more if you want to absorb this riveting story in small slow bites)
We don’t talk a lot about the messiness of recovery, because people like to believe that it is a contained and discrete experience. It happens, it’s over, you heal, you move on. Some are not so lucky. This is about a fortunate boy who fought back, healed early on, relied on spirit guides and lived a full-on life.
This is about how a teenager fought back, recovered and moved on, daring the devils of evil. This story is painful to grasp. It is hard to read in the beginning. But is a good riveting story in the end. It is a triumph over evil.
Read this if you got the balls to read a life defying story. It is a hard one to absorb. It is a story about human resilience. It is was written with no holds barred. It is graphic, but it has to be told. It is a story only for enlightened people. If you don’t like it, do not read anymore. I don’t mind it at all.
This story has six parts. That’s why this episode is numbered part I. You have to read the whole lot to absorb the entire journey of recovery and eventual success.
I don’t want you to be sad reading this story. Yes, I was hurt. But I conquered it all. Be proud of me. I had the courage to defy the odds at a very young age. Many young boys, unlike me, have not survived this type of trauma. But speak out and protect the young, innocent and vulnerable, that’s all I ask.
I have changed some names of this story, But the story is true and authentic, and it is one that needs to be told in its entirety with the details, warts and all.
I was fourteen. It was the school holidays. I was spending the holidays at home after completing the school term living in the Christian brothers formative boarding school. Next to the boarding was the beach. During the last term in boarding, I learnt to swim and loved the feel of water. Two weeks into the holiday, I missed the water and wanted to experience it again. I bought a blue swim brief and was impatient to wear it. I packed my spanking new, swim brief and towel and headed by bus to the only beach I knew, the beach next to the boarding. After about an hour, I reached the beach. The boarding was empty. All students were away at their homes enjoying the holidays with their families.
It was a beautiful sunny day in tropical Sri Lanka. There was nobody else on the beach. I changed into my new swim brief. I practised my swimming and floating in the pristine blue sea. All by myself. It was lovely and quiet. I kept admiring my new swimming brief. I felt proud and happy in my swim gear. I felt great.
After about an hour, I came out of the sea, changed into my towel. I washed off the sand from my precious swim brief in the seawater. I headed to the boarding building with the intention of taking a quick shower and returning home. I was wearing my white towel but nothing underneath. Note: that there are no fresh waters showers on Sri Lankan beaches.
I entered the empty building from the main door which was open. I was heading to the common bathroom when the Christian brother in charge of the boarding, Evander appeared from nowhere. He came forward towards me with a big smile and greeted me. Evander was the absolute authority of the forty-five-odd boarders in the facility.
Elander was the director in charge. He had a way of charm with the boys. He had taught them to call him Abba. Abba in biblical stories meant father. He implied that he was the caring father to the young boys. The routines in the boarding included daily mass and constant prayer. Complete this with the innuendo of a holy father, he was the god-given ruler to all boys. Evander routinely re-iterated that we were in his care and not in our parents’ care while in the boarding. The boys had begun to trust him as the carer without question.
During the previous school term, Evander encouraged us to report any injuries from soccer incurred during playtime. He kept a tube of Wintogeno, the pain reliever cream. Evander was eager to treat minor sprains of the young boys with his hands, rubbing the cream on our legs after we had our showers. The treatments were done in his room, one boy at a time.
After obtaining the trust of the young boys, Evander occasionally asked few boys to sleep in his room. He slept on the bed, while we boys slept on the ground on our mats. He touched our bodies on shoulders and neck while we slept extending his hand from his bed. We did not know any better and tolerated this strange habit. After all, he was our divine 'abba' as implied by him with a religious flavor.
Back to that day, after the swim, when Evander pulled a chair and asked me to sit on his lap, I felt hesitant. I sat despite feeling unease, thinking of the inferred trust of the carer role he was in.
Evander kept hugging me and within a short time, pulled my towel away. I became helpless and confused. I was alone with him with nobody around. There was nobody else in sight. Evander had complete control over me. He lifted me and took me to his room. Lifting his white Christian robe, he rubbed himself on my legs.
Within a very short time, I felt a bucket of thick water felling on my legs with an unknown smell. It was Evander’s gross semen fluid, something I learnt later. I have had no sexual experiences and I was only fourteen. I was dumbstruck. Evander suddenly felt embarrassed. He took me to the shower and cleaned me. I ran to my locker in the dormitory, changed and left the building immediately. I was in utter confusion and could not completely grasp what Evander did. I knew it was wrong but did not know any better.
On arriving home, I was quite upset. I did not know how to process what had happened. I pretended to my father and mother, that I was okay. Parents and young boys did not discuss sexual matters openly in that era. I did not know whether it was a sexual matter at all. I was a late boomer with little idea of sexuality. Confused and with difficulty, I went on about my normal life at home. In the nights, I kept on thinking about what Evander did and tried to figure it out. All I did was creating more confusion and uncertainty. It was tough for a fourteen-year-old.
The story continues in Rising from Adversity Part II
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