Alex - in Wonderland? (3), timeline 2 (9 - 10)
Timeline of abuse (Part 2, nine to ten years old)
1.
In '84 I was sent away to boarding school, my father's relatives school, we'd visited and stayed with them before. Other than suffering terrible separation anxiety for my dog companions I wasn't that stressed about it, was actually looking forward to being able to mix with peers without my parents and middle brother jealously and possessively interfering with me. It went wrong from the start. I ended up in a terrible state, was crying all the time and terrified, the teachers said it was homesickness, it wasn't I'd been away from home without my parents many times and never suffered like this. In the first few weeks I was beside myself, I felt like my whole world had gone wrong, I was hyper-sensitized and near hallucination with terror and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. I've always been emotional, and can get overwhelmed so I'd gotten good at emotional management and establishing what was triggering me. I couldn't work out what was causing it, I even started writing letters to my parents telling them I would kill myself if they didn't come and take me home, and I was being serious. I'd never even had suicidal thoughts before, tried to track where the idea came from and I couldn't find it.
Then I found out - when I forced myself to wake up from a terrible nightmare about drowning to find myself standing naked in front of my father's wealthy landowner (and nationally and internationally influential) relative 'Boss' Lilford. He had a straight razor to my genitals and was stinging me around my hips and pubic area with a leather strop. He didn't realise I was awake at first, we were in the passage to the headmasters bedroom, him and his wife (my father's first cousin who actually ran the school) were on their bed watching. I started asking them what they were doing and how I got to be in their house when I was supposed to be asleep in the dormitories. Lilford started threatening me and I found out what I can be like and stood up to him, everyone was terrified of him, he dominated his extended family and I later understood sexually predated on ALL his relatives children, he was a very very sick man. He bent me over a stool and started roughly and disgustingly penetrating me with a finger and I kept speaking telling him to stop, spoiled the experience for him by refusing to back down and holding his eyes. He clearly wasn't used to it and I got taken back to the dormitory. A week later, same thing, only now my brain had worked out how to overcome the drugs I woke up much faster, I was naked again in the passage, but I'd clearly only just been taken there and Lilford was busy preparing his straight razor and strop when I started talking again and spoiled it for him again.
During the next week. I went to my classroom teacher to try and get help and that got reported back to headmaster and his wife earning me afternoons of beatings, brainwashing and personality abrogation procedures, performed by the headmaster in his office. It was the first time anyone had attacked my mind and personality like that, it isn't difficult for me to understand how the other children succumb, become psychologically subjugated and stop challenging the violent, fear infectious, teachers. The headmaster was practiced and very very competent at breaking down minds and personalities. I experienced it as a kind of death, I was quite attached to my personality, I liked myself and was quite committed to not becoming violent or being influenced into violence as I'd experienced happening to other children. I fought back because I thought I was being murdered and turned into a puppet, which was true.
This is the purpose of the procedures the schools and cartels carry out, using drugs, incarceration, rape abuse, psychological reprogramming and violence to destroy the natural personality and morality of the children and make sexual soldiers that would willingly have sex with the teachers and even in adulthood defend the school and the teachers who subjugated them. The children end up in a state of helpless adoration for the headmaster, his wife and the teachers, their personal Will and right to say No stolen from them forever.
Part of the fallout I found difficult to cope with was how the school teachers and other adults controlled our social image and lied to the other children about me. I got similar to what I'd gotten at six, branded a liar, they said that I 'Lied to try and get out of trouble and when I was under pressure.
A minor incident that happened with another boy in my dormitory was him getting me to run away with him. I didn't want to because I knew there was no point, we'd just get brought back, but he kept telling me he was being hurt and had to run away and was going to go alone if I didn't come with him. Fearing he'd get hurt in the wildlife and farming areas surrounding the school I went with him. We got out through a hole in the security fence he'd found and went through the external playgrounds to the outer barbed wire fence. I climbed through and crossed the road into an agricultural field and he'd stopped. I went back to him and asked him what was going on, he said he'd changed his mind, which I wanted him to do anyway and we returned to the dorms without anyone seeing us. I got into trouble (that was made very public) for trying to run away. I later figured out that the boy had been instructed to get me to run away with him, the adults wanted an excuse for if I disappeared, setting me up as a run away was their way of doing that.
I also got taken to Lilford's farm house near the school*, twice that I remember, where him and his daughter threatened me, including putting rose pruning shears to my fingers and toes and telling they'd cut them off, I remember the feel of the metal as they closed it on my skin just as well as I remember the burn of Lilford's straight razor blade at the base of my penis. He didn't manage to get me to capitulate, after spending two afternoons terrorizing me to try and get me to give them sex in subjugation they seemed to give up on that method. If I'm honest, I don't think anyone had stood up to Lilford for so long, he genuinely didn't know what to do about me, I suspect in his own way he respected me, he despised weak people, would barely acknowledge my father for his weaknesses. Lilford had ruined his own son and was looking for a successor, which made me a threat to the headmaster and his wife because they were hoping that their eldest son would inherit control of Lilford's estates.
*The sight of rose shears and straight razors still trigger me today, as do many many many other things. Many MS brothers have asked me what my major triggers are......the most truthful answer I can give is Everything!
*I remember pleading with the African school driver not to take me there, telling him Lilford was doing bad things to me, he knew, didn't bother him - he like all the other African people involved with the Rhodesian colonials and commonwealth ex-patriot community, was a willing slave enabler. I despise the African people in Zimbabwe for living as willing slaves and enablers helping and concealing the cartels, schools and parents rape and abuse of their children, I'm pretty sure the African people willingly sell their own children to these sick people. I'm genuinely surprised there hasn't been a massacre on the Zimbabwean African people by the people who were once the children Zimbabweans helped to rape and prostitute. I utterly on every single level LOATHE the African Zimbabwean people who did this....LOATHE them on a cellular level and wish that China and the West would do something together for a change and eradicate this horrifying population of apathetic enablers, they have no morality or civilization and will do anything for a grain of gold. I consider it likely that one of the reasons my culture ended up so sick was because they got tempted and infected by the amoral, enabler, slave rapist that is the common Zimbabwean - I cannot fucking stand them! i doubt any of the other white children who got raped behind a curtain of African labor in country with useless and corrupt African police that aren't worth trying to get help from. The cartels survive and make success out of the sheepish African people, the only person I ever saw effectively stand up to them and try to do something was Mugabe, and the other African people slapped him in the face and ran straight back under the petticoats of the white supremacist cartels of commercial child rapists just as soon as they could.
2.
Everything seemed to go quiet after that, I found out I liked tennis, a lot, and devoted myself to that as a distraction. Got a term of being left alone and allowed to interact with the other children. Went home for holidays and came back for the third and final term of the year, didn't speak to my parents about what had happened, by then I had realized that it was likely the strange dreams I'd been having and the sudden onset bed wetting was because my parents and the teachers in Plumtree school had been taking me out of my bed and doing things to me while I was in a sleepwalking state. I also knew my father was in Lilford's thrall so probably knew what was going on better than I did. No point talking to them and bringing myself more trouble as happened when I was 6 - 7.
When I returned to boarding school for the new school year in '85, my brother and four of the other teachers children, all the boys, from Plumtree school came with me. It turned into a nightmare of a kind I couldn't possibly have imagined. Almost immediately I was treated to more renditions of the procedures carried out on me when I'd tried to get help the year before, they included my brother now, getting him to dominate me in the brainwashing sessions and watch me getting beatings and torture. Only now there was an intent. My brother and I were getting given to a high level minister in the young Zimbabwean government, the plan was apparently that we were supposed to help the Rhodesians get their sick, child ranching, Rhodesia back. They told me the minister had a sickness, that he liked to make two brothers have sex with each other and then fight to the death. I have no idea what they told my brother, but I found out through my life afterward that they had programmed him to want to kill me, it wasn't difficult, he already had a dangerous personality and had been fixated on me since he was old enough to do so.
On one occasion the headmaster dropped me and my brother in a particular spot in Lilford's wildlife area between the school and Harare City and told us to stay there, some small trees in circle in the middle of a large open area, like a natural arena. My brother was behaving strangely and I wasn't going to stay there like a lamb to the slaughter so I told him to stay there and moved off to conceal myself on high ground where I could observe. No one came, but after a couple of minutes he picked up a branch and started hitting and attacking the trees. Though he had a lot of problems, I'd never seen him behave like that before and realized if I'd stayed down there he would have likely attacked me, the adults had trained him. When the headmaster came to collect us, what must have been an hour or so later, only my brother was there, I didn't immediately break cover and thought about staying there and then heading for the city to try and get help. But I knew that wouldn't work, children have no voice in Zimbabwe, it doesn't matter what they say or how terrified they are, the adults all lie together and running away to try and get help would have just made it worse* so I ran down and caught them on the road. In the vehicle on the way back to school the headmaster started asking me why I wanted to kill my brother, over and over, telling my I hated my brother and wanted to kill him, I began to realize that this is what they had been doing - teaching my brother to be frightened of me. He was the same size as me, people who didn't know us often thought I was two to three years younger than I was from my physical appearance and often thought he was the older brother. It was only when I spoke that people realized I was older than I was. Also I was an extremely gentle child, my brother took advantage of me in our family unit because of it, my parents encouraged and enabled him to try and dominate me, one punch was all it would have taken for me to put him in his place, he had a weak, mewling personality, but liked to try and hurt other people and get other children to hurt each other, he played social politics, like my father and couldn't understand why the other children didn't like him and feared him.
*as I found out for sure a couple of months later when I managed get out of imprisonment to run away to my mothers relatives. They refused to listen to me, called the school to come and collect me. I spent the afternoon chained to a bath and got tortured and raped again as punishment for trying to run away.
3.
One of the most difficult parts of my situation in the first half of the term was the adolescent dormitory prefect. my father and the adults had incited him, He'd started attacking me from beginning, threatening to cut my throat while I slept with a combat style knife he had. Used to beat me any time he could make up an excuse, socially humiliated me to the rest of the dorm, telling them I was a liar and a pooftah and anything else he could manage to turn the rest of the dormitory on me, he used to walk around with a cricket bat threatening to attack me with it and beating me and other children, he was out of control and dangerous and there was literally ZERO adult supervision in the dormitories (same with the senior boarding school I went to, the teachers distance themselves them blame the children when someone gets damaged. He twice lost himself and physically attacked me, punching me, getting me down on the ground and kicking me, the other boys, my age, in the dormitory had to get him off me. They kept telling me to give him what he wanted. One of the worst things for me was the prefect forcing me to give him back massages* and bath him, it made me feel weak and dominated (and I like giving massages and bathing people, just like I like sex, forcing me to do it is destructive on me).
*It's something that 17/18 year olds did to me at senior school when I was 13 to 14 - I fucking hated it, felt like I was being made to be a geisha girl for these delinquent Rhodesian boys. I may have looked like what people called girlboys for being attractive (I'm not sure when it got into humanity that slender pretty boys are girlish, few girls look like that, girls tend to be heavier hipped and rounder than slender ten year old boys, it really bothers my that the humanity I live in thinks boys like me are the ideal of female beauty, it really bothers me that females in humanity try to look like attractive, skinny, ten year old boys) - I have always experienced myself as very male, as a boy it didn't occur to me to want romantic relationships with boys, I had no difficulty getting excited about girls I found attractive. I'm a male, self evolving, nurturing personality - other males find us attractive because they're supposed to, we are the natural nurturing, guidance and protection personality FOR males. Females aren't supposed to raise males, my personality type of Male is supposed to do it. Female exploiters and male child rapists do not respond well to me or my personality type, they seem to know I'm a protector of males, in cultures like the one I grew up in, my kind get tortured and murdered for being a threat to female and teacher dominion over males. I experience myself as very very male, not foolish humanities fake strutting machismo male that women have made their ideal of the male form, for behaving like domineering, bossy little girls and raping the defenseless, like the malignant females ruling my demographic into ruin are. It was an unpleasant day when I realized the females in my culture only accept men in this violent state and have rejected and attack the real male personality that wouldn't rape, enslave and prostitute the children with them.
After half term weekend holiday break, my brother and I got dropped off a day early and the prefect had stayed there the weekend for a cricket coaching clinic. So I ended up in the dormitory alone with him and one of the most memorable and life changing events of my life began. It's too much to describe fully here in the timeline, I'll compose fuller description in a separate Survivor story post, but it started with him physically dominating me and twisting my arm behind my back so hard I suffered damage to my shoulder. He forced me over my own bed pushed my face into the covers and violently sodomized me*, it was so painful I thought he'd penetrated me with his knife, I didn't understand that he was trying to have sex with me, I thought he was trying to murder me (which rapes of this type actually are, it's a sexualized simulation of murder and I'm pretty sure that people who do this have a very high disposition to actually murdering people and often do, getting away with it). I made the mistake of trying to get help again, and had to engineer my own escape from the headmaster while I was being taken, hands tied, down to the school pool to be drowned. So it turned into four weeks of isolated imprisonment, torture and multiple rapes by the adults in a room next to the headmasters office. I'll explain about it separately.
*Expertly as well, it's not that easy to penetrate a virtually virgin small 10 year old boy, even when boys are submitting or willing. This 12/ 13 year old knew exactly what he was doing and penetrated me quickly without any misses. He also tape recorded the event, had clearly pre-planned it and knew I would be alone with him. I don't need a tape recorder to remember the sounds I made. I'd buried what had happened with my best friend at 6 and had no real sexual experience except for what the abusers tried on me, I didn't even know about masturbation then, so I didn't understand why the adolescent did such a thing as force his penis into me. I felt completely dominated and I don't do well with feeling dominated, it's as offensive to my natural personality as me dominating someone else. My personality doesn't do subjugation/dominion relationships or interactions, ever!!! I can't accept sadomasochism, it's offensive to my nature.
4.
It was a couple of days before end of term that I managed to negotiate myself out of the stalemate between myself and the headmaster, teachers and my family. Part of what I agreed to in return for releasing me was that I would stand up in front of the school and tell them the story the adults wanted. All of the children were told not to speak to me, I'd spent 4 weeks mostly isolated and imprisoned, it's an eternity to a ten year old. I had one night of being in the dormitories with the other boys, none of whom were allowed to interact with me......then in the morning I stood in front of the whole school and told them 'I had been punished because I'd lied and said the prefect did bad things to me because I didn't like being at school'. It is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.
I remember how weird everything seemed as I did the 5 hour bus trip home for holidays, the boys travelling with me including my brother had been told to make sure I didn't try and interact with anyone else on the bus. Got collected by my parents who behaved as if everything was just normal. It was like the real world had become unrealistic. When I got home I was told I was being punished for lying and causing trouble and wasn't allowed to mix with the other children in the community. Got what Americans call grounded, basically I was locked in the house and not allowed to leave the boundary of our garden without my parents permission. Fortunately I had my animal companions for company.
During those holidays my family went to visit my father's commercial cattle rancher friends and that turned into them taking me to be punishment and snuff raped by an African man they'd gotten to do it for them. I'm going to share that as a separate post. Other things happened as well then.
When I got back to school I was shunned and socially ridiculed, under the instruction of the teachers, it carried on into third term. I later worked out that the first time I'd had a normal conversation or interaction with people since beginning of the school year in January was during the second term holidays, in August, when I now got allowed to mix with the other town children. Good thing I'd learnt to be so good at being lonely at 6 to 7 years old or I wouldn't have survived it. I was suicidal most of the time. That didn't ever really stop, I've pretty much been suicidal*, on a daily basis, since then. It's hard to plan ahead or have a life when one is in the condition I've lived in for forty years.
*When mental health industry pretenders got (forcibly and against my consent) involved with my life, at 45 years old in 2020, at my abuser family and cultures behest - they forced me onto medication known for contributing to causing suicides*. I can see why, I had learnt to to cope with my normal suicidal ideation, but what I got on the medication and as a result of being locked up in a facility, for six weeks, getting profoundly and horribly triggered by it being a reminder environment of the boarding schools I got tortured in. When I tried to speak to the psychologists and psychiatrist unlawfully incarcerating me; about my family and their treatment of me I got into trouble. I wasn't allowed to speak negatively about my family, I had to pretend all was ok with them and it was me being wrong and sick or they wouldn't have let me out of the facility. They could have held me as long as eight months and/or transferred me to a much much cheaper government facility that the money psychiatrist mistreating me was also involved in. That was what my family and the female cartels were trying to do to me - I'd been talking about their culture and behaviors and the things that happened to myself and other children in the schools - it happened as a result of my being triggered by my next door neighbors boy who was one of the sweetest and most delightful people I've met. I adored him and desire to protect him and his sister brought everything to the surface.
5.
Somehow I survived to my 11th birthday at the end of '85. I am well aware that there are very few people who could have managed that, in the way I did and still not capitulate to giving them sex. I couldn't stop them from raping me, but I refused and fought them every time. I've only really shared the highlights of the abuse, not about the general daily abuse. The character assassinations and social disreputing, I ended up in estranged relationships with my mothers relatives who preferred to believe the lies, but never spoke to me about what happened or what was going on. One of the reasons I didn't try to go to the authorities or get help was because the cartels threatened that if I tried to do anything they'd attack my mother's relatives, I thought they were decent people and not involved. It took me a long time to acknowledge that my mother's relatives were just as bad, if not worse, just from the poorer side of the Royalty Rhodesian community.
An important thing that did happen was Lilford was murdered. The night after the end of third term, my mother, myself and my two brothers were supposed to stay the night with him (there was no good reason for this and part of my agreement when I got out of imprisonment was that Lilford stayed away from me, I was able to do that because the headmaster and co. and imprisoned, tortured and raped me without Lilford's permission. He didn't know and they were terrified of him finding out. He was not a man who accepted anyone touching or messing with anything he believed was his belonging, my father had given me to him. Fortunately my mother listened to me for one the few times she did (her own life was in danger, instead of just her children's and I played on it) and contacted her relatives from nearby Chinhoyi Town and we went and stayed with them instead. Traveled back to Bulawayo by bus and found out from my father that the police had been looking for us because Lilford had been tortured and murdered, shot with his own gun, that night. It seemed likely to me that he had organised for an African gang to invade his farmhouse and attack myself and my family while he was at the horse races. My mother didn't tell anyone we hadn't gone to Lilford's, so the gang probably waited and waited and then when Lilford got home got into a confrontation with him. Or it was coincidence, I'll never really know.
1.
In '84 I was sent away to boarding school, my father's relatives school, we'd visited and stayed with them before. Other than suffering terrible separation anxiety for my dog companions I wasn't that stressed about it, was actually looking forward to being able to mix with peers without my parents and middle brother jealously and possessively interfering with me. It went wrong from the start. I ended up in a terrible state, was crying all the time and terrified, the teachers said it was homesickness, it wasn't I'd been away from home without my parents many times and never suffered like this. In the first few weeks I was beside myself, I felt like my whole world had gone wrong, I was hyper-sensitized and near hallucination with terror and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. I've always been emotional, and can get overwhelmed so I'd gotten good at emotional management and establishing what was triggering me. I couldn't work out what was causing it, I even started writing letters to my parents telling them I would kill myself if they didn't come and take me home, and I was being serious. I'd never even had suicidal thoughts before, tried to track where the idea came from and I couldn't find it.
Then I found out - when I forced myself to wake up from a terrible nightmare about drowning to find myself standing naked in front of my father's wealthy landowner (and nationally and internationally influential) relative 'Boss' Lilford. He had a straight razor to my genitals and was stinging me around my hips and pubic area with a leather strop. He didn't realise I was awake at first, we were in the passage to the headmasters bedroom, him and his wife (my father's first cousin who actually ran the school) were on their bed watching. I started asking them what they were doing and how I got to be in their house when I was supposed to be asleep in the dormitories. Lilford started threatening me and I found out what I can be like and stood up to him, everyone was terrified of him, he dominated his extended family and I later understood sexually predated on ALL his relatives children, he was a very very sick man. He bent me over a stool and started roughly and disgustingly penetrating me with a finger and I kept speaking telling him to stop, spoiled the experience for him by refusing to back down and holding his eyes. He clearly wasn't used to it and I got taken back to the dormitory. A week later, same thing, only now my brain had worked out how to overcome the drugs I woke up much faster, I was naked again in the passage, but I'd clearly only just been taken there and Lilford was busy preparing his straight razor and strop when I started talking again and spoiled it for him again.
During the next week. I went to my classroom teacher to try and get help and that got reported back to headmaster and his wife earning me afternoons of beatings, brainwashing and personality abrogation procedures, performed by the headmaster in his office. It was the first time anyone had attacked my mind and personality like that, it isn't difficult for me to understand how the other children succumb, become psychologically subjugated and stop challenging the violent, fear infectious, teachers. The headmaster was practiced and very very competent at breaking down minds and personalities. I experienced it as a kind of death, I was quite attached to my personality, I liked myself and was quite committed to not becoming violent or being influenced into violence as I'd experienced happening to other children. I fought back because I thought I was being murdered and turned into a puppet, which was true.
This is the purpose of the procedures the schools and cartels carry out, using drugs, incarceration, rape abuse, psychological reprogramming and violence to destroy the natural personality and morality of the children and make sexual soldiers that would willingly have sex with the teachers and even in adulthood defend the school and the teachers who subjugated them. The children end up in a state of helpless adoration for the headmaster, his wife and the teachers, their personal Will and right to say No stolen from them forever.
Part of the fallout I found difficult to cope with was how the school teachers and other adults controlled our social image and lied to the other children about me. I got similar to what I'd gotten at six, branded a liar, they said that I 'Lied to try and get out of trouble and when I was under pressure.
A minor incident that happened with another boy in my dormitory was him getting me to run away with him. I didn't want to because I knew there was no point, we'd just get brought back, but he kept telling me he was being hurt and had to run away and was going to go alone if I didn't come with him. Fearing he'd get hurt in the wildlife and farming areas surrounding the school I went with him. We got out through a hole in the security fence he'd found and went through the external playgrounds to the outer barbed wire fence. I climbed through and crossed the road into an agricultural field and he'd stopped. I went back to him and asked him what was going on, he said he'd changed his mind, which I wanted him to do anyway and we returned to the dorms without anyone seeing us. I got into trouble (that was made very public) for trying to run away. I later figured out that the boy had been instructed to get me to run away with him, the adults wanted an excuse for if I disappeared, setting me up as a run away was their way of doing that.
I also got taken to Lilford's farm house near the school*, twice that I remember, where him and his daughter threatened me, including putting rose pruning shears to my fingers and toes and telling they'd cut them off, I remember the feel of the metal as they closed it on my skin just as well as I remember the burn of Lilford's straight razor blade at the base of my penis. He didn't manage to get me to capitulate, after spending two afternoons terrorizing me to try and get me to give them sex in subjugation they seemed to give up on that method. If I'm honest, I don't think anyone had stood up to Lilford for so long, he genuinely didn't know what to do about me, I suspect in his own way he respected me, he despised weak people, would barely acknowledge my father for his weaknesses. Lilford had ruined his own son and was looking for a successor, which made me a threat to the headmaster and his wife because they were hoping that their eldest son would inherit control of Lilford's estates.
*The sight of rose shears and straight razors still trigger me today, as do many many many other things. Many MS brothers have asked me what my major triggers are......the most truthful answer I can give is Everything!
*I remember pleading with the African school driver not to take me there, telling him Lilford was doing bad things to me, he knew, didn't bother him - he like all the other African people involved with the Rhodesian colonials and commonwealth ex-patriot community, was a willing slave enabler. I despise the African people in Zimbabwe for living as willing slaves and enablers helping and concealing the cartels, schools and parents rape and abuse of their children, I'm pretty sure the African people willingly sell their own children to these sick people. I'm genuinely surprised there hasn't been a massacre on the Zimbabwean African people by the people who were once the children Zimbabweans helped to rape and prostitute. I utterly on every single level LOATHE the African Zimbabwean people who did this....LOATHE them on a cellular level and wish that China and the West would do something together for a change and eradicate this horrifying population of apathetic enablers, they have no morality or civilization and will do anything for a grain of gold. I consider it likely that one of the reasons my culture ended up so sick was because they got tempted and infected by the amoral, enabler, slave rapist that is the common Zimbabwean - I cannot fucking stand them! i doubt any of the other white children who got raped behind a curtain of African labor in country with useless and corrupt African police that aren't worth trying to get help from. The cartels survive and make success out of the sheepish African people, the only person I ever saw effectively stand up to them and try to do something was Mugabe, and the other African people slapped him in the face and ran straight back under the petticoats of the white supremacist cartels of commercial child rapists just as soon as they could.
2.
Everything seemed to go quiet after that, I found out I liked tennis, a lot, and devoted myself to that as a distraction. Got a term of being left alone and allowed to interact with the other children. Went home for holidays and came back for the third and final term of the year, didn't speak to my parents about what had happened, by then I had realized that it was likely the strange dreams I'd been having and the sudden onset bed wetting was because my parents and the teachers in Plumtree school had been taking me out of my bed and doing things to me while I was in a sleepwalking state. I also knew my father was in Lilford's thrall so probably knew what was going on better than I did. No point talking to them and bringing myself more trouble as happened when I was 6 - 7.
When I returned to boarding school for the new school year in '85, my brother and four of the other teachers children, all the boys, from Plumtree school came with me. It turned into a nightmare of a kind I couldn't possibly have imagined. Almost immediately I was treated to more renditions of the procedures carried out on me when I'd tried to get help the year before, they included my brother now, getting him to dominate me in the brainwashing sessions and watch me getting beatings and torture. Only now there was an intent. My brother and I were getting given to a high level minister in the young Zimbabwean government, the plan was apparently that we were supposed to help the Rhodesians get their sick, child ranching, Rhodesia back. They told me the minister had a sickness, that he liked to make two brothers have sex with each other and then fight to the death. I have no idea what they told my brother, but I found out through my life afterward that they had programmed him to want to kill me, it wasn't difficult, he already had a dangerous personality and had been fixated on me since he was old enough to do so.
On one occasion the headmaster dropped me and my brother in a particular spot in Lilford's wildlife area between the school and Harare City and told us to stay there, some small trees in circle in the middle of a large open area, like a natural arena. My brother was behaving strangely and I wasn't going to stay there like a lamb to the slaughter so I told him to stay there and moved off to conceal myself on high ground where I could observe. No one came, but after a couple of minutes he picked up a branch and started hitting and attacking the trees. Though he had a lot of problems, I'd never seen him behave like that before and realized if I'd stayed down there he would have likely attacked me, the adults had trained him. When the headmaster came to collect us, what must have been an hour or so later, only my brother was there, I didn't immediately break cover and thought about staying there and then heading for the city to try and get help. But I knew that wouldn't work, children have no voice in Zimbabwe, it doesn't matter what they say or how terrified they are, the adults all lie together and running away to try and get help would have just made it worse* so I ran down and caught them on the road. In the vehicle on the way back to school the headmaster started asking me why I wanted to kill my brother, over and over, telling my I hated my brother and wanted to kill him, I began to realize that this is what they had been doing - teaching my brother to be frightened of me. He was the same size as me, people who didn't know us often thought I was two to three years younger than I was from my physical appearance and often thought he was the older brother. It was only when I spoke that people realized I was older than I was. Also I was an extremely gentle child, my brother took advantage of me in our family unit because of it, my parents encouraged and enabled him to try and dominate me, one punch was all it would have taken for me to put him in his place, he had a weak, mewling personality, but liked to try and hurt other people and get other children to hurt each other, he played social politics, like my father and couldn't understand why the other children didn't like him and feared him.
*as I found out for sure a couple of months later when I managed get out of imprisonment to run away to my mothers relatives. They refused to listen to me, called the school to come and collect me. I spent the afternoon chained to a bath and got tortured and raped again as punishment for trying to run away.
3.
One of the most difficult parts of my situation in the first half of the term was the adolescent dormitory prefect. my father and the adults had incited him, He'd started attacking me from beginning, threatening to cut my throat while I slept with a combat style knife he had. Used to beat me any time he could make up an excuse, socially humiliated me to the rest of the dorm, telling them I was a liar and a pooftah and anything else he could manage to turn the rest of the dormitory on me, he used to walk around with a cricket bat threatening to attack me with it and beating me and other children, he was out of control and dangerous and there was literally ZERO adult supervision in the dormitories (same with the senior boarding school I went to, the teachers distance themselves them blame the children when someone gets damaged. He twice lost himself and physically attacked me, punching me, getting me down on the ground and kicking me, the other boys, my age, in the dormitory had to get him off me. They kept telling me to give him what he wanted. One of the worst things for me was the prefect forcing me to give him back massages* and bath him, it made me feel weak and dominated (and I like giving massages and bathing people, just like I like sex, forcing me to do it is destructive on me).
*It's something that 17/18 year olds did to me at senior school when I was 13 to 14 - I fucking hated it, felt like I was being made to be a geisha girl for these delinquent Rhodesian boys. I may have looked like what people called girlboys for being attractive (I'm not sure when it got into humanity that slender pretty boys are girlish, few girls look like that, girls tend to be heavier hipped and rounder than slender ten year old boys, it really bothers my that the humanity I live in thinks boys like me are the ideal of female beauty, it really bothers me that females in humanity try to look like attractive, skinny, ten year old boys) - I have always experienced myself as very male, as a boy it didn't occur to me to want romantic relationships with boys, I had no difficulty getting excited about girls I found attractive. I'm a male, self evolving, nurturing personality - other males find us attractive because they're supposed to, we are the natural nurturing, guidance and protection personality FOR males. Females aren't supposed to raise males, my personality type of Male is supposed to do it. Female exploiters and male child rapists do not respond well to me or my personality type, they seem to know I'm a protector of males, in cultures like the one I grew up in, my kind get tortured and murdered for being a threat to female and teacher dominion over males. I experience myself as very very male, not foolish humanities fake strutting machismo male that women have made their ideal of the male form, for behaving like domineering, bossy little girls and raping the defenseless, like the malignant females ruling my demographic into ruin are. It was an unpleasant day when I realized the females in my culture only accept men in this violent state and have rejected and attack the real male personality that wouldn't rape, enslave and prostitute the children with them.
After half term weekend holiday break, my brother and I got dropped off a day early and the prefect had stayed there the weekend for a cricket coaching clinic. So I ended up in the dormitory alone with him and one of the most memorable and life changing events of my life began. It's too much to describe fully here in the timeline, I'll compose fuller description in a separate Survivor story post, but it started with him physically dominating me and twisting my arm behind my back so hard I suffered damage to my shoulder. He forced me over my own bed pushed my face into the covers and violently sodomized me*, it was so painful I thought he'd penetrated me with his knife, I didn't understand that he was trying to have sex with me, I thought he was trying to murder me (which rapes of this type actually are, it's a sexualized simulation of murder and I'm pretty sure that people who do this have a very high disposition to actually murdering people and often do, getting away with it). I made the mistake of trying to get help again, and had to engineer my own escape from the headmaster while I was being taken, hands tied, down to the school pool to be drowned. So it turned into four weeks of isolated imprisonment, torture and multiple rapes by the adults in a room next to the headmasters office. I'll explain about it separately.
*Expertly as well, it's not that easy to penetrate a virtually virgin small 10 year old boy, even when boys are submitting or willing. This 12/ 13 year old knew exactly what he was doing and penetrated me quickly without any misses. He also tape recorded the event, had clearly pre-planned it and knew I would be alone with him. I don't need a tape recorder to remember the sounds I made. I'd buried what had happened with my best friend at 6 and had no real sexual experience except for what the abusers tried on me, I didn't even know about masturbation then, so I didn't understand why the adolescent did such a thing as force his penis into me. I felt completely dominated and I don't do well with feeling dominated, it's as offensive to my natural personality as me dominating someone else. My personality doesn't do subjugation/dominion relationships or interactions, ever!!! I can't accept sadomasochism, it's offensive to my nature.
4.
It was a couple of days before end of term that I managed to negotiate myself out of the stalemate between myself and the headmaster, teachers and my family. Part of what I agreed to in return for releasing me was that I would stand up in front of the school and tell them the story the adults wanted. All of the children were told not to speak to me, I'd spent 4 weeks mostly isolated and imprisoned, it's an eternity to a ten year old. I had one night of being in the dormitories with the other boys, none of whom were allowed to interact with me......then in the morning I stood in front of the whole school and told them 'I had been punished because I'd lied and said the prefect did bad things to me because I didn't like being at school'. It is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.
I remember how weird everything seemed as I did the 5 hour bus trip home for holidays, the boys travelling with me including my brother had been told to make sure I didn't try and interact with anyone else on the bus. Got collected by my parents who behaved as if everything was just normal. It was like the real world had become unrealistic. When I got home I was told I was being punished for lying and causing trouble and wasn't allowed to mix with the other children in the community. Got what Americans call grounded, basically I was locked in the house and not allowed to leave the boundary of our garden without my parents permission. Fortunately I had my animal companions for company.
During those holidays my family went to visit my father's commercial cattle rancher friends and that turned into them taking me to be punishment and snuff raped by an African man they'd gotten to do it for them. I'm going to share that as a separate post. Other things happened as well then.
When I got back to school I was shunned and socially ridiculed, under the instruction of the teachers, it carried on into third term. I later worked out that the first time I'd had a normal conversation or interaction with people since beginning of the school year in January was during the second term holidays, in August, when I now got allowed to mix with the other town children. Good thing I'd learnt to be so good at being lonely at 6 to 7 years old or I wouldn't have survived it. I was suicidal most of the time. That didn't ever really stop, I've pretty much been suicidal*, on a daily basis, since then. It's hard to plan ahead or have a life when one is in the condition I've lived in for forty years.
*When mental health industry pretenders got (forcibly and against my consent) involved with my life, at 45 years old in 2020, at my abuser family and cultures behest - they forced me onto medication known for contributing to causing suicides*. I can see why, I had learnt to to cope with my normal suicidal ideation, but what I got on the medication and as a result of being locked up in a facility, for six weeks, getting profoundly and horribly triggered by it being a reminder environment of the boarding schools I got tortured in. When I tried to speak to the psychologists and psychiatrist unlawfully incarcerating me; about my family and their treatment of me I got into trouble. I wasn't allowed to speak negatively about my family, I had to pretend all was ok with them and it was me being wrong and sick or they wouldn't have let me out of the facility. They could have held me as long as eight months and/or transferred me to a much much cheaper government facility that the money psychiatrist mistreating me was also involved in. That was what my family and the female cartels were trying to do to me - I'd been talking about their culture and behaviors and the things that happened to myself and other children in the schools - it happened as a result of my being triggered by my next door neighbors boy who was one of the sweetest and most delightful people I've met. I adored him and desire to protect him and his sister brought everything to the surface.
5.
Somehow I survived to my 11th birthday at the end of '85. I am well aware that there are very few people who could have managed that, in the way I did and still not capitulate to giving them sex. I couldn't stop them from raping me, but I refused and fought them every time. I've only really shared the highlights of the abuse, not about the general daily abuse. The character assassinations and social disreputing, I ended up in estranged relationships with my mothers relatives who preferred to believe the lies, but never spoke to me about what happened or what was going on. One of the reasons I didn't try to go to the authorities or get help was because the cartels threatened that if I tried to do anything they'd attack my mother's relatives, I thought they were decent people and not involved. It took me a long time to acknowledge that my mother's relatives were just as bad, if not worse, just from the poorer side of the Royalty Rhodesian community.
An important thing that did happen was Lilford was murdered. The night after the end of third term, my mother, myself and my two brothers were supposed to stay the night with him (there was no good reason for this and part of my agreement when I got out of imprisonment was that Lilford stayed away from me, I was able to do that because the headmaster and co. and imprisoned, tortured and raped me without Lilford's permission. He didn't know and they were terrified of him finding out. He was not a man who accepted anyone touching or messing with anything he believed was his belonging, my father had given me to him. Fortunately my mother listened to me for one the few times she did (her own life was in danger, instead of just her children's and I played on it) and contacted her relatives from nearby Chinhoyi Town and we went and stayed with them instead. Traveled back to Bulawayo by bus and found out from my father that the police had been looking for us because Lilford had been tortured and murdered, shot with his own gun, that night. It seemed likely to me that he had organised for an African gang to invade his farmhouse and attack myself and my family while he was at the horse races. My mother didn't tell anyone we hadn't gone to Lilford's, so the gang probably waited and waited and then when Lilford got home got into a confrontation with him. Or it was coincidence, I'll never really know.