Cheryl Zondi, who accused Nigerian pastor Timothy Omotoso of sexually abusing her over a period of two-and-a-half years while she was a member of his church.
Johannesburg - Rape survivor Cheryl Zondi has poured her heart out on a blog about the trauma she experienced, allegedly at the hands of Nigerian pastor Timothy Omotoso.

Zondi is the first witness in the trial of Omotoso who is accused of the rape and human trafficking of young women in his Durban church and has in the past c ouple of days captured the hearts of South Africans who praised her bravery and strength for  not buckling  under pressure during intense cross-examination at the trial. 

The 22-year-old Zondi claimed in court that Omotoso sexually abused her over a period of two-and-a-half years while she was a member of his church. She testified that she was just 14 years old when the first incident occurred.

Now, South Africans are flocking to her blog in which she details the trauma of being repeatedly abused.

The university student started blogging on May 4 on a Wordpress site called “letters from sherry” and this has gained clout and praise online since the case started.

On June 20 she wrote a blog-post titled “Trapped” that seems eerily similar to the experiences she has been testifying about in court.  On the blog, Zondi writes about a character named Lelo making her “way up the pearly-white stairs, naive and not knowing what awaits me on the other side of the mysterious portal at the end of it.”

"I place my right hand on the golden knob and take a long deep breath before I gather the courage to turn it, clockwise and open the portal.

"I enter, left foot first and it immediately feels as though I have walked into another dimension- a sinister one.

"The room is poorly lit. Lock the door," his domineering voice instructs me.

"I do as I'm told without hesitation.

'Come here', he says in a slightly friendlier tone.

"I follow his voice and it leads me to a ponderous figure centred on a big, white bed with a dim lamp that gives the place a weak, reddish hue. It's him. It's daddy.

"I gawkily sit on the carpeted floor beside the bed and look up to him a childlike smile.

“Don’t sit on the floor, sit here,” he says as he pats a spot right next to him on the edge of the bed. 

“I mean, I find this a little odd, but I do it anyway. I mean, he is a Man of God and my father in Christ, so he wouldn’t do anything to harm me, right? Right.”

She further explains how the man gets on top of her and fondles her. 

She writes: “My body is numb. I’m bereft. I feel as though I am trapped. I am trapped and mute for two-and-a-half years and some day (sic), I’ll have to find my voice again.”

The Star