This blog was submitted by ICC representative Sylvia Thompson.
Naomi slipped under the bed and waited. She was too scared to move—too scared to breathe. She gritted her teeth in fear as a cacophony of terrible sounds reverberated around her. “Please don’t come in here,” she whispered, pulling her knees into her chest.
And then she heard them—barreling through her door like deranged animals. They knocked over her humble dresser and began to search its drawers. Tears fell from Naomi’s eyes when she heard the familiar melodic tune of her jewelry box.
“Jackpot,” said one of the men as he grabbed Naomi’s gold necklace and shoved it into his pocket. “Be quiet now,” yelled the robber, throwing the musical box onto the floor—quieting its innocent “tinkling” sound forever.
Naomi remained motionless until the men finally left—until the only sound she could hear was that of her mother weeping in the next room. She ran through the dark house and fell sobbing into her mother’s arms.
“It’s okay,” whispered Naomi’s mother, cradling her daughter in her arms.
But it was not okay. Hours later the men returned, but this time their agenda had changed. “We heard you were Christians,” snarled one of the men, grabbing Naomi by the arm while the other men bound the girl’s parents in the same room.
“Please don’t hurt my daughter,” Naomi’s mother begged.
“We won’t hurt her,” laughed one of the men pushing the young girl to the floor.
The sounds of ear-curdling screams mixed with wailing sobs penetrated the Pakistani sky as Naomi’s body was gang-raped through the night. When the young girl fell unconscious, they left—caring nothing for the lives they had just mercilessly ravaged.
Crossing The Bridge