Sexual Sadism

We have all watched movies or heard of someone who was sexually molested or abused and inflicted with so many injuries or was found bound and abandoned. Most times we hear of such cases, the victim is usually found dead or maimed and traumatised.
Often, we find ourselves wondering what would drive a normal human being to performing such an inhumane act. However, according to a study in sexual disorders, such individuals aren’t normal but suffer what is referred to as sexual sadism.
This is a pattern in which a person, usually male is intensely sexually aroused by the act or thought of inflicting physical or psychological suffering on others, such as blindfolding, restraining, humiliation, cutting, strangling and in extreme cases, killing.
Sexual sadistic personalities usually imagine having control over a sexual victim who is terrified by the prospect of the sadistic act. At times though, they carry out the action with consenting partners who are usually masochistic ( a person who has intense sexual urges and fantasies that involve being humiliated, beaten, bound or otherwise made to suffer.)
Non consenting partners are usually those who end up being murdered after being sexually and physically abused. In both cases, real or fantasized victim’s suffering is the key to sadist’s arousal.
Fantasies of sexual sadism may appear in childhood and develop and occur in adulthood. Sometimes, a sexual sadist may only be viewed as a cruel person and the severity of the cruelty advances with years. Such individuals are highly dangerous to other people.
One may wonder what causes sexual sadism. Those who study behaviour suggest that while inflicting pain, perhaps unintentional on an animal or person, an adolescent may feel intense emotions sometimes with inclusion of sexual arousal. The pattern between inflicting pain and being sexually aroused sets the stage for a pattern of sexual sadism.
Psychodynamic theorists suggest that people with sexual sadism are people who have underlying feelings of sexual inadequacy or insecurity and inflict pain in order  to achieve a sense of power which in turn increases their sexual arousal.
Sexual Sadism is treated by aversive  conditioning whereby techniques are used in therapy to reduce appeal of sexual sadism by associating the individual with physical or psychological discomfort such as electrical shock and presentation of sadistic images.
Shocking, right?
Ladies unless you are masochistic, when you notice any sign of sexual violence in a man, you should run for your life; literally.

Adapted from the topic sexual disorders in the book of Abnormal
Psychology by Ronald J. Comer

So cold

You say I am cold
That I have no emotion
That my eyes are hard
You do say that
My smile is only on my lips
But nowhere near my eyes

You say that I am mean
That nothing seems to touch me
That I can just walk away
Even when you turn to me
And ask for my help

You say that I will burn in hell
That no heart is like mine
That no coldness is like mine
Have you encountered
In your so many years

But I want to remind you
That you molded me into this
That you worked so hard
Aren’t you happy you succeeded
To get this indifferent being?
Whose emotions you can’t see

Remember when I was a kid
When I idolized you?
When I would have given up
Everything to see you smile?
Remember when you told me
You would teach me something new
When I didn’t question
Simply undressed and smiled
When you started molding what you call my cold heart?

Dare I remind you of that day
That my mum lost her husband
And you took all she had left
And laughed on her cries
With no care in the world?

I will remind you of when
She turned to you for help
When I lay helpless in the hospital bed
And all you said was that I
Would soon go after her husband?

I will remind you
For every deed you did
I scribbled in my little heart
And you will not erase
With your small cold talk

Life took a turn now
And as you were cold then
So I will be cold
I will watch whatever
Illness that you got suck
Every bit of life
That you have in your cold heart
Until you wither away to a grave
For coldness you sow
And coldness you shall reap

that girl

The girl.. girls are easy to hurt, easy to harass yet nothing is as beautiful as a girl.. no single creature is as selfless as a girl, as giving. Girls are the best

the liminal life of m

that girl
when i am quiet
sometimes i still cry
for all the times that girl
died alone

on a cold exam table
with a bladder fit to burst
while a tech with a wand
peers inside her womb
at a beautiful healthy baby
no one wants
she is twenty years old
has been abused or abandoned
by everyone she ever loved
her shame leaves her
alien to love
and even God
has left her

i cry for that girl
who kept trying
kept giving
kept caring
when no one
tried for her
gave to her
cared for her
amazed at her living

she failed
but she kept failing
she still kept breaking

she lived
she gave life
she made life
out of ashes
she made love
out of stones

The old posts on this site started getting a lot of traffic recently.  Being unable to remember what…

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Her pain

Looking so frail yet so strong
Head held up gracefully and
Her face gives no emotion away
When she stares at you though
You can almost touch the pain held within

She meets my eyes and turns away
And I feel myself turn away too
Just that am not that strong
So I allow the tears to flow
‘ he was a good man….’
The rest of the words are swept away
By the winds or I just didn’t want
Any of that word ‘was’
It was the man of God
Doing the part they gave him
‘Soils to soils….
I can’t get to hear everything
Murmurs everywhere ‘ he was so kind’
Why can’t they shut up
and respect the dead?
The woman walks away after
A handful of soils into the grave
Head still held high, no tears
I stare at her and wonder
How she does manage that.

She watches the crowd eat
To their fill and walk away
And to her what is left is a big void in her heart
Screams come from her main house
She hurriedly walks towards it so afraid, of what she would find.

The brother to the dead is fighting
His newly found wife over their newly bought house
She feels herself give in
A wave of rage sweeps over her
Her so hard practiced facade is lost and she hears herself scream
‘ it is your own brother’s burial
Can’t you respect even the dead for a day??’
Her shouts weaken and she turns to keep the tears from flowing
Weakly she utters ‘ go away, just go away ‘ and as she tries to walk away, she simply passes out
A frail figure is all I can see,
She hadn’t realized in trying so hard to be strong, she had weakened and in times of pain, pursuit of strength is only by
Just crying it out



Isn’t mine just another body?

All my heart, feelings and my eyes I admit that I love you very much
Like a fool I smile at your memories and when you appear I can’t control myself
Fond and stupid together, smiling, traveling.. Isn’t this love?
I am blind to your faults
Deaf to any advice given
Only you whose opinion matters..
Isn’t everybody else just but jealous?
You advance for my innocence
Heartless, pitiless not an ounce of guilt on how much trust I invested in you
Because to you am I not just another prey?
Isn’t mine just another body??
Grateful to you I am though because with the same hands that caressed me, you shamelessly raised against me
Thankful because you opened my eyes that I was just one of your conquests that succumbed to your charms and melted to your faked attention, devoured and broken,
Left for the trash because as you said, mine was just another body.
Why are you back now??
What changed of this just another body?
Your crocodile tears evoke no emotion in me
For in the hard way you taught me that mine is not just another body.


If I Had a Dollar (Why I Am a Feminist)

Amazing piece

girl in the hat

image courtesy Devil Doll image courtesy Devil Doll

Because my mother was a painter and a beauty when artists had patrons and a woman like that needed a man to take care of her, so she married a money man.

Because my mother’s mother was a beauty and her mother was, too, and that’s what people said: “She was a beautiful woman,” as if that was the only remarkable thing.

Because I was born in 1966, the year Betty Friedan and others started the National Organization of Women and challenged an industry which required flight attendants to quit if they got married, pregnant, or reached the age of 32.

Because when my mother had me, she stopped painting and started cleaning house and throwing dinner parties and smoking too many cigarettes and crying in the mirror.

Because my mother never told me that I looked pretty because she did not want me to grow…

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Dependent personality disorder

Have you met that person who can’t make a choice on what yoghurt flavor they like or what dress to pick or which color they like most without seeking anybody’s opinion? Well, don’t be surprised.
Individuals with dependent personality disorder are very reliant on others and no single decision can they make on their own. It’s a disorder mainly found in women but studies show that it is also found in some men.
Such people are very sensitive to correction and no matter how lightly one tries to frame a correction, it will affect them. It is easier for these people to stand abuse than to stand up against a partner because of their immense fear of losing a relationship.
Such people will just watch you make the wrong decisions and never utter a single word.
When such a person wishes for something that they think friends or partners or even parents will not appreciate, they will simply let go of the wish.
They are very submissive and have a seething need for affection and will always irritate you on how much of your attention they want.
They are uncompetitive and very timid.
One may wonder what causes this type of disorder.
DPD is a result of maybe deficient physical stature or health status like very thin people or very fat people. They feel a sense of security by depending on others.
Parental over protection may cause this disorder because it inhibits natural formation of interpersonal competence.
People who feel that they are not beautiful enough or that they aren’t bright enough may also develop the disorder especially if it started in early childhood.
Individuals who exhibit the characteristics of this disorder are usually taken to therapy where they engage in several exercises on being assertive.
So next time you meet such an individual you know what is wrong with them!!!!!!

God you gotta help me

As she walked from her son’s school thoughts were heavy on her. She couldn’t picture her son’s education cut short at such a tender age. Where would he go? What would he do to earn a livelihood? Where would he play with other kids, make fool of himself and laugh about it later?? She had many questions to God and when she cried out all she could come up with was a very bitter prayer to God.
‘ you have no option of not helping me God. It is you to who all silver and gold belong to. If you don’t help me then I will know you are not God ‘
Her son was still behind her quiet not understanding why his mother went to school to pay fee and he had to go back home with her.
‘ this is just too little mum. Just take him with you, find twice this amount then bring him back ‘ the principal had said sending her out without hearing her out.
She knew her son was right behind her but she couldn’t bring herself to turn to him. She didn’t understand why God was taking so long to intervene. He had promised that he was father to the fatherless, a husband to her who had just lost her husband; her better half, father to her eight very young children who still asked her when daddy would be home. As they drew closer home, the angrier she got. She was going home to a grave and not the warm welcome of him, to a bunch of innocent kids who had no understanding of how wrong everything was and who depended solely on her. To kids who didn’t understand that they would have to cope with life without a father. Thoughts had her mind occupied that she didn’t realize that she was home.
The shouts of her kids happy that their mum was back home and that she hadn’t left their brother in school brought her back to reality. She smiled at them to hide her tears and told them she had a headache. She got into her room and closed her door and picked her Bible. As she perused through it aimlessly, she finally heard from God.
‘ Look into the hospitals and give thanks for you are healthy. Look into the streets and see the total orphans in it and all the homeless who have no hope for a future and give thanks. For they are all the work of my hands. ‘
She went down on her knees, asked for forgiveness and gave thanks for all she had. She had everything to be grateful for and gratitude replaced anger and pain. She felt in peace for once in a long time.

Cancer and kids

My friend dragged me to a meeting in one of the club meetings in campus and I found myself off to visit sick kids in one of the biggest hospitals in Kenya.
My fast thought of kids who are sick was that of sad little faces but how wrong I was. Our leader introduced us at the ward entrance and smiling pretty faces were all over us and we couldn’t march up their optimism and we may never do. Apart from the really weak ones who came out with seats and who requested to sit on our laps, the rest were just hard to control. One particular girl had all my attention. She wanted to color every piece of paper I had.. wanted me to ran after her. She laughed like an angel. So beautiful.; She taught me how to make a boat and I made a paper flower and put it on her ear and it was supported by her marvin. I did take several photos of her and told her that all was gonna be well. ‘ I want to go home. And I want to have hair’ She suddenly said that looking so sad and vulnerable. ‘ I hope that will happen soon dear. Tell me about home.. Do you have a beautiful sister like you’ I asked her to and she started chattering nonstop about her younger sister forgetting the sad mood she was in. Hours flew by and it was time to go back to school and I hugged her bye.
‘I promise I will eat well and be out of here soon’ she told me waving at me happily.
‘ What is wrong with Yvonne?’ I asked the group leader as we walked out.
‘She has leukemia’ the answer came barely audible.
Everything else was a blur. I got to my room, locked it and just cried.


The job seeking job

I am leaving school soon and all that my mind can think of is how to get a job and most of the time I spend looking at job sites. I can’t help note that all the employers want experience and I just wonder where they want all the fresh graduates to go to. Sometime back I almost nailed a job but didn’t qualify due to lack of experience and you can only imagine how frustrated I was. In Nairobi where all of us brought up in the village want to find jobs can no longer accommodate us. Job creation and self employment is the best initiative but still capital is lacking and practical business skills. Life is becoming harder and I can’t stop sympathizing with all those mothers who are waiting for their learned kids to graduate come December so that they can get support. Though just like any other person who has been in school, I can’t help but hope all is going to be well


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