Get Guardian on GoogleEight years after she says an older man she trusted sexually assaulted her when she was a teenager, a woman recounts how emotional vulnerability, misplaced trust and fear of family reactions kept her silent, while the experience continued to affect her relationships and understanding of intimacy.
At an age when she should have been able to depend on adults for guidance and protection, a teenage girl says she found herself placing that trust in someone she would later accuse of sexually exploiting her.
She was about 17. She was struggling with the pressure of growing up, repeated unsuccessful attempts to secure university admission and what she described as a lack of encouragement at home.
She wanted someone who could provide emotional support, guidance and reassurance.
The older man offered what she believed was that kind of relationship.
He gave her money, bought her a phone and offered gifts. She said she became comfortable around him because she regarded him as a father figure.
“I was looking for a ‘daddy figure’ as mine wasn’t exactly encouraging. He took advantage of that,” she recalled.
What she initially understood as friendship and care would become an experience she says she struggled to discuss for years.
In a private conversation with this reporter, the woman alleged that the man sexually assaulted her when she was still a teenager.
“I thought we were friends,” she said.
Her account raises questions about the vulnerability of young people who seek emotional support from adults, the misuse of trust and the difficulty some survivors face in recognising, processing and disclosing sexual abuse.
For her, the experience did not end with the alleged assault. It became something she says continued to affect her long after she had left adolescence.
The vulnerability behind the relationship
The woman described herself as someone who was seeking encouragement at a difficult point in her life.
She had attempted to secure admission into the University of Benin twice without success. At home, she said, she was frequently insulted and called a failure.
Against that background, the attention and financial assistance from an older man appeared to offer a form of reassurance she felt was missing elsewhere.
She said he knew her age and was significantly older than her.
She also recalled visiting his office on several occasions before the alleged incident, although she could not remember the exact number of visits.
Over time, she became comfortable around him.
The gifts and financial assistance were part of what she understood as a relationship in which he was playing a fatherly role.
However, she now believes he exploited the trust she had placed in him.
This aspect of her account raises a wider child-protection concern: how adults can take advantage of a young person’s emotional vulnerability and dependence.
While gifts and financial assistance do not, on their own, establish grooming or sexual exploitation, the circumstances described by the survivor warrant attention to the power imbalance between a teenager and a significantly older adult.
Children and adolescents may depend on adults for emotional support, financial assistance and guidance. That dependence makes it particularly important for adults to maintain appropriate boundaries.
What happened after the alleged assault?
The survivor said the incident occurred in the man’s office.
She recalled receiving money for transportation afterwards, although she was uncertain whether she had received transportation money before the encounter.
She also acknowledged that some details had become difficult to remember.
“I do this thing where I block out unpleasant events. I start forgetting,” she said.
After the incident, she stopped responding to his messages.
According to her account, the man subsequently visited her family home after becoming upset about her withdrawal. He reportedly complained to her mother about the money and gifts he had given her and demanded that they be returned.
Her mother chased him away.
When questioned about the confrontation, the teenager reportedly told her mother that the man had been making romantic advances towards her and offering the gifts.
Her mother reprimanded her for accepting them.
The woman said she never saw the man again.
Although the confrontation brought the situation to her family’s attention, she did not disclose the alleged sexual assault.
The distinction is important: her family knew there had been a disagreement involving the man and the gifts, but she says they did not know what had happened between them.
Eight years of silence: Why some survivors do not speak
For the teenager, telling her parents about the alleged assault appeared to be another burden she was not prepared to carry.
She said she was already dealing with academic disappointment and pressure at home. Having been called a failure because of her unsuccessful admission attempts, she did not want another difficult situation to confront.
“I didn’t want drama,” she said.
Her decision to remain silent also reflected her concerns about how her family might respond.
The woman said she sometimes pushed unpleasant experiences out of her mind and found it difficult to recall certain details.
She only recently began discussing the experience in greater detail with her partner.
Her account reflects a wider challenge in responding to sexual violence: disclosure does not always happen immediately, and survivors may take considerable time before they feel able to discuss what happened.
A 2019 study published in the African Journal of Reproductive Health, examining child sexual abuse and disclosure in southwestern Nigeria, found that only 34.4 per cent of the adolescents who reported experiencing sexual abuse had disclosed it.
Among the reasons given for non-disclosure were shame, fear of not being believed and the belief that nothing would come from reporting the experience. Some respondents also reported being scolded after disclosing what happened.
Although the study was conducted in a specific population and should not be treated as a national estimate, its findings highlight the difficulties some young survivors face when deciding whether to speak.
The survivor’s account presents a similar concern: the fear of additional problems and the possibility of an unsupportive response can influence whether a young person chooses to disclose abuse.
When family responses become another barrier
The woman’s concerns about family reactions were reinforced by a separate experience she described.
Years later, when she was already in her twenties, she said a male relative by marriage made unwanted sexual advances towards her.
She became suspicious of his intentions and arranged for a female friend to call her every ten minutes as a precaution.
She said her parents did not handle the situation well and that she felt blamed rather than supported.
The experience strengthened her belief that disclosing the earlier incident might not have resulted in the support she needed.
The two experiences are separate, but her account raises an important question about the role of families in responding to sexual harassment and abuse.
When a young person or survivor is met with blame, suspicion or humiliation, the response can make an already difficult experience harder to discuss.
The World Health Organisation‘s 2017 guidelines on responding to sexually abused children and adolescents emphasise the importance of listening without judgement, protecting privacy, respecting survivors’ wishes and avoiding unnecessary distress during disclosure.
The guidelines also advise against repeatedly asking children to recount their experiences when doing so is not necessary.
These principles are important not only for healthcare professionals but also for anyone receiving a disclosure of sexual abuse.
A supportive response should begin by listening, taking the account seriously and making clear that the child is not responsible for the abuse.
What the law provides for children
Nigeria’s child-protection framework recognises the need to protect minors from sexual abuse and exploitation.
Edo State enacted its Child Rights Law in 2007, establishing a legal framework for the protection and welfare of children.
In January 2017, the Edo State Judiciary inaugurated a Family Court to handle matters involving children, including child abuse and exploitation.
The court was established under the state’s Child Rights Law, with jurisdiction over relevant civil and criminal matters involving children.
Section 31 of Nigeria’s Child Rights Act 2003 prohibits sexual intercourse with a child and classifies a contravention as rape. It also provides that a child’s consent or an offender’s belief that the child is 18 or older does not excuse the offence.
Edo State also had a Violence Against Persons (Prohibition) Law framework in 2018. The state subsequently signed a reviewed version of the law in June 2021.
These legal provisions demonstrate that child protection and sexual violence were recognised in the state’s legal framework.
However, the existence of laws and specialised courts does not automatically guarantee that every child knows where to seek help or feels safe enough to report abuse.
The survivor’s account raises questions about access to protection, awareness of legal rights and the role of families in helping young people navigate difficult experiences.
It also highlights the importance of ensuring that children can speak about abuse without being made to feel responsible for what happened to them.
The psychological consequences of sexual abuse
The effects of sexual abuse are not necessarily limited to the period immediately following an incident.
The World Health Organisation has identified possible long-term consequences of childhood sexual abuse, including anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress symptoms, sleep difficulties and challenges affecting relationships and general well-being.
However, survivors do not all respond in the same way, and no single experience should be used to diagnose another person.
The woman said the experience affected how she approaches intimacy and relationships.
“I have treated sex as a chore since then and I don’t rate men at all,” she said.
She also described difficulty revisiting the memories, explaining that she sometimes blocks out unpleasant experiences.
Her account illustrates why access to appropriate psychological support matters, even years after an experience of sexual abuse.
Trauma-informed support should not pressure survivors to provide details they are uncomfortable sharing or insist that they respond to their experiences in a particular way.
The WHO guidelines recommend that care should respect the survivor’s wishes, promote safety and minimise further distress.
For someone who has remained silent for years, being able to speak at their own pace can be an important part of feeling heard.
The decision to move forward
Eight years after the experience she described, the woman is willing to share her story anonymously.
She does not want her identity disclosed, the alleged perpetrator identified or any attempt made to confront him.
She also does not want to pursue legal action.
Her decision is personal, and sharing her experience should not be interpreted as an invitation to reopen the matter or pressure her into seeking a particular form of accountability.
She said she had recently been able to discuss the incident in greater detail with her partner, who knows more about the experience than most people in her life.
Her message to other survivors is that they should find the form of support that helps them move forward.
She believes that speaking about their experiences can help some people, while others may choose to pursue accountability or focus on rebuilding their lives.
She cautioned young women to be careful about whom they trust, arguing that people do not always know the intentions of others.
But the responsibility for preventing sexual exploitation should never be placed on children alone. Adults, families and institutions have a responsibility to maintain appropriate boundaries and protect young people.
Beyond one woman’s experience
The survivor’s account is a reminder that sexual abuse can occur within relationships where trust, familiarity and emotional dependence already exist.
It also highlights the difficulties that may follow when a young person does not feel able to disclose what happened.
The questions raised extend beyond one individual’s experience: how can families create environments where children feel safe enough to speak? How can institutions make child-protection services more accessible? And how can society respond to survivors without blaming, humiliating or pressuring them?
These questions deserve attention because the existence of protective laws is not enough if vulnerable children do not know about them or cannot access the support they provide.
For the woman, sharing her experience is not about identifying anyone or reopening a case. It is about speaking about something she says she has carried for years.
Her message to other survivors is simple.
“Whatever it is, make sure the pain doesn’t define you and your life isn’t centred around it. It will get better, you will get better,” she said.
Eight years later, she wants to move forward without having her identity attached to the experience.
Her account is a reminder that survivors should be allowed to tell their stories on their own terms, without being forced into public confrontation or made to prove their pain through repeated retelling.
And perhaps one of the most important lessons is that when a child places trust in an adult, that trust should be protected, never exploited.
Beyond One Woman’s Experience: The responsibility to protect
The woman’s account is a reminder that sexual exploitation does not always begin with threats, violence or an unfamiliar face. Sometimes, it can emerge from relationships in which a young person believes they are safe, valued and cared for. For a teenager searching for guidance and emotional support, the attention of an older adult may initially appear reassuring, making it difficult to recognise when boundaries are being crossed.
Her experience also raises questions about the environment in which children grow up and the people they turn to when they need help. A child who feels unable to speak to their parents, fears being blamed or believes that disclosure will create more problems may choose silence, even when they need protection.
That silence should not be mistaken for the absence of abuse, just as the passage of years should not be taken to mean that an experience has ceased to matter.
There is also a responsibility on families to examine how they respond when children and young people disclose uncomfortable or harmful experiences. Questions that suggest blame, accusations that a victim encouraged inappropriate behaviour and dismissive reactions can deepen the sense of isolation survivors already experience. Listening without judgement, taking disclosures seriously and ensuring access to appropriate support are important steps towards creating safer environments.
Institutions, too, must look beyond the existence of legislation. Child-protection laws, specialised courts and sexual assault support services are important, but their effectiveness also depends on public awareness, accessibility, confidentiality and the confidence survivors have in the people expected to help them.
For parents and caregivers, protecting children goes beyond providing food, education and shelter. It also means creating an environment where a child can discuss uncomfortable experiences without fearing punishment, humiliation or rejection. Children should understand that accepting gifts, receiving financial assistance or trusting an adult does not make them responsible for that adult’s inappropriate conduct.
For the survivor, however, telling her story does not represent a demand for confrontation or a renewed search for accountability. She has made it clear that she wants to protect her identity and move forward with her life. Her decision deserves respect. Sharing an experience should never mean surrendering control over what happens next.
Her advice to other survivors is that they should speak if doing so helps them, seek accountability if that is what they want and find support that allows them to rebuild their lives. Above all, she does not want anyone to believe that a painful experience must become the defining feature of their existence.
“Whatever it is, make sure the pain doesn’t define you and your life isn’t centred around it. It will get better, you will get better,” she said.
Her words offer a personal perspective on survival, but they should not be mistaken for a suggestion that healing is always easy, immediate or the same for everyone. Survivors deserve time, support and the freedom to decide what moving forward means to them.
Eight years after the experience she described, she is choosing to speak without revealing her identity or seeking public confrontation. Her decision does not erase what she says happened, nor does it remove the broader questions her account raises.
Ultimately, the responsibility for preventing sexual exploitation cannot rest on children being more suspicious, more cautious or better at protecting themselves. It rests on adults who must respect boundaries, families that must provide safe spaces for disclosure, and institutions that must ensure that the protections provided by law are accessible in practice.
A teenager searching for affection should not have to learn that trust can be dangerous through an experience of exploitation. And no child should have to choose between keeping a painful experience to themselves and risking blame from the very people they expect to protect them.
The real measure of a society’s commitment to protecting children is not simply the laws it passes, but whether young people can grow up, seek help and speak about harm without being made to feel responsible for it.
