Saturday
Bev shook her head at her younger sister, enjoying the way her freshly done hair flowed. “No. No. No. You have been holed up in this house for weeks. When was the last time you saw the sun? We’re going to celebrate. We’re going to sing, dance and drink tonight away.”
Elsie pulled the covers over her head. “I just want to sleep. Do you have any idea how hard writing a thesis is?”
Bev’s stomach clenched. Ignore it. Ignore it. “Do I have any idea? I should be listed as a key contributor. Who figured out all your references when that blasted citation manager crashed?”
Elsie pulled the covers off and sat up. “God, you saved my ass. Thanks, Bev.”
“Don’t thank me. Get in the damn shower.” She turned to the full-length mirror and smiled. “I look too hot to stay inside.”
The pink off-shoulder crop top paired with a flowy skirt showed off her soft belly, African waist beads and belly button ring. Perfect given how hot the afternoon already was. Speaking of hot, time to touch up her sunscreen. Can’t be too safe.
She fussed with her hair, loving how the massive curls fell around her face. Ah, she had the best hairstylist in Nairobi. She did.
Elsie walked in, covered in a fluffy purple towel. “Step away from the mirror. That’s enough for the day.”
“Dress up. None of that jeans and a t-shirt thing you do,” Bev admonished as she walked out of the room. “And don’t forget sunscreen.”
Elsie laughed. “I know, can’t be too safe.”
********
Bev fanned herself as she walked back to their table. She was done; all that dancing had finally done her in. They were the perfect pair; Bev spent the majority of her time on the dance floor while Elsie, a real-life anthropologist, enjoyed people-watching.
She plopped onto the seat next to Elsie and reached for her glass.
“You going back for another round?” Elsie asked.
“Nah, I’m beat.”
She looked at the dance floor and the group of girls she’d been dancing with. They were a fun bunch. Even though they’d recognised her, they’d not made a big deal of it. Plus, they let her join them, effectively forming a human shield from the men who pestered her every chance they got.
Like clockwork, one was here.
“Hi.” The stranger said in a deep voice Bev was willing to bet was not his usual register.
She looked up, fake smile in place. “Hi.”
“You’re Bubbly Bev, right? You look so good. Can I join y’all?”
“Um, thanks, but we’re good, so not tonight.”
He shook his head, his fake smile twisting into a smirk. “Unaringa na kila mtu ako na nudes zako.”
Her blood ran cold, her heart stopping as his words sank in. What did he mean by ‘everyone had her nudes’?
What nudes?
He laughed at her shock, then disappeared into the dimly lit club.
Could she have heard him wrong? Maybe she heard him wrong. Men were always saying all kinds of crazy shit to her. Her comments and DMs were a mess. A mess.
She took a gulp of the cider and turned to Elsie. Elsie’s eyes were saucers.
So, she had not heard wrong.
Fuck.
********
“We’re leaving,” Elsie announced, pulling up a ridesharing app.
As soon as they walked into the house, Elsie rounded on her. “Have you ever sent a guy your nudes?”
“What do you think? I’m not stupid, Elsie.” Bev snapped.
“Then what was he talking about?”
“I don’t know. Men say all kinds of crazy shit to me, you know that.”
“He looked like he meant it. Plus, after what happened to Jojo Mwende…” She drifted off.
It hadn’t even been a month since Jojo Mwende’s deepfake images were shared online. Elsie hadn’t paid much attention to it. Jojo Mwende was an OnlyFans creator; it made sense that those kinds of things would happen to her. Plus, they didn’t run in similar circles; OnlyFans work and lifestyle blogging had little in common.
“It’s probably nothing,” Bev said, her voice suddenly small and choked. She rubbed her sweating hands on the skirt and stood up. “I’m going to bed.”
“Bev…”
“What do you want me to do, sit here with you listing off everything it could mean? I’m going to sleep. You can judge me all you want.”
“I’m not judging you, Bev. I would never judge you.”
Bev walked to her room, closed the door and leaned on it, rubbing her racing heart and taking deep meditation breaths.
In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out.
Sunday
Bev ignored her phone for the fifth time. How were people raised, surely? What kind of person calls you before noon on a Sunday?
Was that her doorbell now? She listened for it and cursed when she heard it. She dragged herself out of bed and peeped through the hole. Their friend, Lisa. What was Lisa doing here so early? She opened the door.
“Lisa, hey?”
“Hey,” Lisa whispered.
Just then, Elsie rushed into the living room, pulling off her shower cap. Elsie’s eyes were red and swollen, like she’d been crying.
Lisa had the very same look.
Her heart stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you been online?” Lisa asked.
“No, what’s wrong?”
Her sister took her hand, leading her to the couch. Elsie was not the touchy type, ever.
She stopped moving. “Fuck. Is it Mom and Dad?”
“No,” Elsie said.
“There are pictures of you online,” Lisa said in a rush.
Bev dropped heavily on the couch.
Elsie’s voice was soft. “I asked Lisa to ask Tommy to find out for us if there was anything, and yes… they have private Telegram groups where they share them.”
“Show me,” Bev asked, her voice a painful rasp.
Elsie handed her the phone. She stared at the screen, mute, her fingers trembling. It was her, naked, in her room, except it wasn’t really her.
“That’s not me,” she whispered, unsure. “It’s not me.” She said again, her voice and certainty stronger.
Elsie reached for the phone, but Bev’s hands closed reflexively around it. “What is this?”
“There’s apparently pictures and videos of you online,” Lisa said, speaking so slowly that Bev wished she could speed her up.
“Videos?”
“I’m so sorry,” Elsie said, reaching for her hand again.
Bev stood up. “I want to see.”
Lisa unlocked her phone, then handed it to Bev. Bev held the two phones together, eyes fixed on the video of her naked in bed with some man she didn’t recognise. Had she…? No, no way. That was her face, her bed, her room, but it was not her body, even though it really looked like her.
She sank into the chair and scrolled. Her bed, her room, a naked her and five, no, six, or was it seven men, touching her, pulling her, climbing on her. One ejaculated on her face, and the video-her smiled.
Her stomach turned, and before she could stop it, she was vomiting on the fluffy snow-white carpet she adored. Had Tommy seen this? She’d babysat him and now… How many people had seen this? Oh, God.
“I told you not to show her that one,” Elsie threw at Lisa.
“Sorry. I’m sorry..”
Elsie rubbed her back, murmuring words made incomprehensible by the wind rushing in her ears.
What was happening?
What was happening?
Lisa covered the bile with one of the moping towels. She hovered a glass of water near Bev’s mouth and waited until she sipped it.
“That’s not me. It’s not me.”
“Okay,” Elsie said.
“No, it’s not me. Tell me you believe me.” Bev begged.
“I believe you,” Elsie promised. “I believe you, Bev.”
“Why?” Bev croaked out. “Why would someone do this?”
Elsie wiped away at her tears. “I don’t know.”
Bev hurled on top of the towel again.
“I’m so sorry,” Elsie said, voice shaky with tears.
“Men have never needed a reason,” Lisa said, angrily swiping away at her own tears.
A moan of pain tore out of Elsie.
Lisa broke down, face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking.
Bev looked from one to the other and wished she could cry. Why wasn’t she crying? She was the crier of their little trio. Had always been the one to start the waterworks.
Bev scrolled past the video with the many men to a picture of her with semen smeared all over her prone naked body. She looked unconscious. On automatic, she clicked the comments icon.
Hapo kwanza anakaa her real name, BEVERLYNE, none of that Bubbly Bev crap.
Nope. Nope. She moved out of the comments. Reflexively, she looked at the performance stats.
More than half a million people had liked that picture. That picture? Oh God, how many people had seen it? Seen the videos? Seen all of it?
A lone tear splattered onto the screen.
Why?
Why would somebody do that?
********
Bev sat up; her eyes were sore, her head was pounding, and she had the sneaking suspicion that the horror she remembered was real. Fresh tears gathered.
She caught movement in the room and turned to find Elsie seated by the window, wiping away her tears. So, this was their life now, just crying?
She looked at the darkening sky, wondering where the day had gone. Sunday was usually their favourite day, the day they lazed and did nothing but chill. She usually loved Sunday afternoon naps but couldn’t even remember getting into bed for this one.
“That girl, Leila, sent me a voice note,” Elsie said after a few minutes.
Bev shook her head. She did not like her. They did not like each other. It was literally in the public domain.
“Hi, Bev. Pole about what’s happened.” That girl, Leila’s unusually subdued voice filled the room. “Last year, deepfakes of me were shared on Telegram. We have a support group for content creators who’ve been victimised. When you’re ready, we’re here. Once again, we’re so sorry this has happened to you, Bev.”
Bev slid back into bed and buried her face in the pillow.
She didn’t want to be part of their little group.
It was the last thing she wanted.
Two years later
Bev shook her head, sending her curls fluttering, as she smiled at the eight women on the panel with her. She wouldn’t have made it through that dark suicidal slough if it wasn’t for them. Now, here they were on a panel raising awareness concerning technology-facilitated gender-based violence in Kenya. Plus, she and That Girl Leila were friends. Friends!
The host, one of the popular news anchors, turned to the panel. “In closing, what’s been the biggest change in you? The most important lesson you’ve learnt. Maybe we could start with you, Bubbly Bev?”
“It’s so dumb when I think about it now, but that entire time, I thought, why me? I’m a good girl. I don’t send men my nudes. I’m not on OnlyFans. I did all the right things. All the things you’re supposed to do to stay safe. I think that’s the biggest change for me, this bone-deep understanding that there’s nowhere safe for women. No amount of good behaviour will keep you safe, and that’s scary.”
The audience of about two hundred, majority women, clapped.
When the claps stopped, Jillian, one of the panellists and a member of their little support group, spoke up. “It’s the same thing for me, that sense that there’s nowhere safe. My husband, now ex, planted secret cameras in our house and shared them when we broke up. I didn’t do any of the things we’re not supposed to do, and it still happened to me. That’s why we’re asking you all to sign that petition demanding, first, that these apps be taken off the app stores and that penalties are introduced for creating, distributing, hosting and sharing any images without the express consent of the person in them. That means everyone is held accountable, from the individuals making and sharing them, to the apps, to the social media sites. That’s the only way we stop this.”
“At least until we completely destroy the patriarchy,” That Girl Leila added.
The audience erupted in cheers.
Bev joined them, turning to smile at Leila. Leila winked at her. She shook her head. They were friends now. It was unbelievable.
The host cut in. “Please sign the petition, share it with your friends, family, everyone who cares about women and girls. We can do this. There’s nothing we can’t accomplish together.”
Bev leaned close to Leila. “Thanks,” she whispered, throat tight with emotion.
Leila reached for her hand and squeezed it, nodding as she did.
Nearly two years of her life had been lost to depression, self-isolation and suicidal ideation. But she was coming out now, starting to talk about it, sharing her experience without feeling like everyone was looking at her and seeing the pictures, the videos. Working on this petition had been nothing short of a lifeline for her. Their little support group had literally kept her alive. And now, together, they were going to make sure this didn’t happen to any more women and girls. Together.
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