adapted from Libyan Woman Struggles to Tell Media of Her Rape
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/27/world/middleeast/27tripoli.html?hpw
Eman El Obeidy
Your protectors are lost children
Wielding cameras
Escaping personal apocalypse
You raced to the hotel
Harboring foreign journalists
Face, a blossoming bruise
Thigh raked with scrapes
Hands and feet ringed with welts
Fifteen of Qaddafi’s men.
Plundered.
Burst open.
Desecrated.
Desecrated.
Despoiled.
Dishonored.
Violated.
Invaded.
Ransacked.
Defecated.
Urinated.
Tainted.
Assaulted.
Pillaged.
Ruined.
Outraged.
Outraged.
Screaming your nightmare
As camera shutters snapped and keyboards clicked
You begged reporters for deliverance
Hotel waiters
Actually plainclothes police
Brandished steak knives
Rushed you into unmarked van
Mouth roughly covered
Yet still you screamed
Eman El Obeidy
Your protectors are lost children
Wielding only words
Here is the post script
ReplyDeletehttp://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/28/world/africa/28tripoli.html?_r=1&hpw
Musa Ibrahim
government spokesman
struggles mightily to dismiss you
Called your hell a wine soaked fantasy
Then called you a whore
“The girl is not what she pretended to be,” he said. “This is her line of work. She has known these boys for years.”