This past week some tragic news hit home – the story Girl, 19, kills self over Facebook tormentor. This was the loss of the life of a young lady with her whole future ahead of her. Her story is heartbreaking and some people are too caught up in their own problems to see it that way.
Mercy Bundi was my age, going to university like me, and probably going through all the feelings and insecurities any normal, female goes through at this stage of life. That is why this story hit so close to home. What happened to her could have happened to one of my friends, it could have happened to me.
I hurt for her stolen breathe and fading memory as Kenya forgets her story and continues to turn their heads to minuet issues. People have called her out on playing the victim, yet the simple fact is it is not and cannot be playing the victim when somebody ends up dead.
This girl’s biggest crime was giving her heart away and trusting the world’s biggest, I don’t even know what to call him. I don’t blame her for that, how many times do we as girls fall for the sweet nothings that men will whisper in our ears? Because we were created with this innate desire to feel beautiful, to feel wanted, and loved. Some men just know how to manipulate that and use it to their advantage.
Caught up in the excitement and head rush of it all, Mercy wasn’t thinking clearly when she agreed to meet this foreign man who had gained access to her vulnerability, all on face-book. She was probably just thinking about how he told her she was beautiful, and how he appreciated her in a way no man ever had. Her family wouldn’t understand.
Two days later, her face hollow, filled with an ache, robbed in only seventy two hours, of a radiant smile that showed a lifetime of memories, she limped into her house. She cried herself to sleep, the pain was too great to bear alone, but the shame too much share with anyone. She knew she had messed up, knew people would blame her and say she got what was coming to her; she couldn’t see any form of escape.
Her sister had warned her, memories of the two horrid nights must have been replaying as flashbacks in her mind over and over again, the blood, the piercing pain, the way his lips curled up as he threatened to destroy not only her body but her life. Everyone would know, she would forever be known as the prostitute who slept with wazungu.
Mercy may have struggled in constant agony, barely revealing her turmoil to any living soul. She pictured her future and to her there was only one way out where she didn’t have to face the heartache before her. I can’t even begin to imagine what she was going through, let alone the fact that she was going through it alone.
What is sickening is that the man walked away from the situation without a scratch, not an inch of justice. He might as well have won the lottery, but I do keep Mercy in my prayers and her family. It’s easy to get detached but remember her, she is not just the 19 year old girl who committed suicide. Her name was Mercy and she had living, breathing emotions, a soul, and a spirit that was sucked out of her too early.
Her life can be used as a lesson, especially to the daughters of this generation. A lesson to guard your hearts from the deceiving words of men, have girlfriends and family whose advice you are respectful of and willing to listen to. We should also be careful who we interact with on social media and meet offline. There are predators out there who will tell you sweet things on Facebook messages, slide into your twitter DMs, and find their way to your Whatsapp. Last but not least, have somewhere to vent, to pour out, to cry and scream if you need to. Human beings were not meant to live in solitude. Relationship is not only important but key to our survival, don’t hold on to any form of pointless heartache, don’t hold your tongue, speak, there are those who are willing to listen…