“He said it was a private game, but it wasn't a game."

Trigger Warning: The following narrative contains content related to experiences of Gender-Based Violence (GBV).

Imaara stands as a beacon of resilience, founded by survivors of Sexual and Gender-Based Violence (SGBV) for survivors. Every aspect of our NGO is crafted with the deep understanding that only those who have endured the harrowing journey of survival truly comprehend its nuances. From our programs to our support networks, we are driven by the unwavering commitment to empower fellow survivors. Each story shared within our community is a testament to the strength and courage that resides within every survivor. Together, we create a safe space where voices silenced by fear and shame are given power. Our mission is not merely to offer aid but to ignite a spark of hope in the hearts of those who have felt the darkest depths of despair. In this sanctuary of understanding and solidarity, survivors find solace, healing, and the unwavering belief that they are not defined by their past traumas, but by the strength it took to survive them.

The Words of an Anonymous Survivor

I used to be so happy whenever my cousin visited. To me, he was just my 'Anna,' someone I looked up to and felt safe with. I remember being excited to see him, even looking forward to sleeping nearby because he was family. But that one night changed everything.

I was only in the 4th grade. He told me we were playing a "private game." At that age, you trust the older people in your life, especially when you think of them as your own brother. But that night was horrible. He mistouched me in places no one should have, and he used the innocence of a "game" to hide what he was doing.

Looking back now, I realize how far from a game it actually was. It was a violation of trust that stayed with me long after that night ended.

I don't know if there is a direct link, but after that incident, my perspective on men shifted entirely. I grew up carrying a deep-seated resentment and fear that eventually turned into misandry. It’s hard to explain to people how one "game" in the 4th grade can rewrite how you see half the world for the rest of your life.

That night wasn't just a bad memory; it was the moment I lost my childhood sense of safety.