A lullaby in a mother’s cry; A drunkard’s tears; A soldier’s plea not to let him die; A victim’s prayer why me why me. Honest cries of a breaking heart are better than a hallelujah sometimes. Beautiful the mess we are to the ear who listens and is ever ready to help.
Amy Grant sang it best in her song “better than a hallelujah” and I second it.
Hidden in a hallelujah chant is a flying arrow, a two edged sword, casted from seemingly clean hands and pure hearts. Wool as white as snow cloths wolves, like sheep. They sit with you, the eat with you, they cry with you, they smile with you. They learn of you, they feed on you, yes, they prey on you, they eat your flesh. Like a leach, like a tick, they target you directly. Your friend knows your secrets, he alone knows your weakness. He can destroy you quicker than anyone else.
Stranger danger? How about friendly anger and aggravated jealousy? What about an obsession called lust and an emotion mistakenly referred to as love? How many, just how many crime victims were once friends somewhat with the criminals? And how many friends would backstab a friend in a set up? But I wish to focus on one in particular – sex crimes.
In light of the increase in rape cases on island, just how vulnerable are our children? Did you know 90% of rape cases the victim knows the criminal? And did you know more than half the time there is a relation between the two? An uncle, a brother, a half-brother, a father, a step-father, a cousin, a friend, an ex. How vulnerable are our little girls, and boys? Monsters sometimes lives under our own roofs.
They eat with you, they drink with you, they party with you, they play with you, they yell you stories, you sit on their laps. They watch you grow, then they prey on you. Two-faced Devils, living in the Paradise of our homes. Pretenders.
To curb the issue facing our youth we are to fight from all angles. What better place to start than at home? Good touch, bad touch – know the difference. Teach the difference. Mothers, daddies, learn and observe. Listen, listen, listen. There is a voice spoken by children not with words. It’s a faint cry, a plea only few hear. We should not cast a blind eye to our house and place a dark cloud over everyone else’s. We need not pretend. We need not vow protection and seek justice while we nurture and breed tiny monsters. We all have our part to play. Let us do it diligently. Having raised such awareness, I propose
– train yourself.
– learn yourself. Know your weakness and turn it into strengths. Seek help if needed.
– talk with family members. Work with each other and their short comings.
– keep a small circle and protect its borders.
Prioritize your friends. Each one know your place and boundaries. Know what to share and with whom. (only a friend knows your secrets so only him can reveal it.)
– keep a level eye, a sound ear and open understanding.
– trust your instincts. Ask questions and listen, listen listen. Be observant.
– do not judge or jump to conclusions too quickly.
Remember, you should not fear the sword of an enemy, but the hugs of a friend be very afraid.
A victim’s cry is more melodious on a listener’s ear than the hosannas of a wicked man.
What type of listener are you?