Every life matters

"After all,that baby will bea constant reminder of the RAPE!"

"If the baby looks like him, you'll hate it –you can't keep it!"

"Don't have it, poor child!"

That baby, Sonia,was me!I am theresult of RAPE!

When I finally met my birth mother, she saw his face, and she remembered the pain.

I was 17, but she still couldn't forget what had happened. She called me Sonia. I was still her baby.

It wasn't just the rape, or being locked in her room that had caused her trauma, but it was the neglect of her own parents who beat her to the point that she becameemotionallyunwell and was the mental age of a 12 year old.

I felt in that moment as thoughI was the parent. She was the little girl. She was still in a state of trauma.

She had suffered yet given me life. I was grateful,but I knew we would never meet again.

When I left, I questioned"who am I?"

My whole identity was vulnerable. A rape- me -my father a rapist!

I looked like him shehad said!I felt dirty, ashamed. My life was compromised.