My heart goes out to the poor girl. Being a rape victim is still a stigma, even in the United States. I know, having been raped twice by strangers who broke into my home while I was asleep. The first time (27 years ago), I was a college student living on campus. After an evening with friends during which we all had some drinks, I went home–slightly tipsy–and fell asleep on the bed, fully clothed. I woke to find a man on top of me. I tried to fight him off but it was no use.
The rape itself was horrible enough, but then I made the mistake of reporting it to authorities, thereby starting a year-long nightmare which caused me to withdraw from the university and develop a drinking problem that I still have trouble with today. I went to the doctor only to be treated with contempt. The university police laughed about it, making much of the fact that I had had a few drinks and forgotten to lock my door, therefore I must have “wanted it” and then “changed my mind.”
University authorities cared nothing about my well-being. They were only concerned about how this incident would affect the colleges reputation. Police came into my classroom and my workplace at any hour, wanting me to come to the station to make statements. This caused rumors to be spread about me that I was dealing drugs, my friends started to avoid me, and my grades plummeted. I was treated as though I had done something wrong. The perpetrator then wrote a letter to police (anonymously) saying he just wanted sex and I was willing, further tarnishing my credibility. Much later, the guy was caught trying to sneak into another student’s apartment and attempt rape, so he did serve prison time.
Rape victims are still blamed and the perps get off scot-free, and it does not matter what culture you come from. It stems from the despicable attitude that women are less than men, and that the woman somehow did something to bring on the rape. The shame does not belong to that poor girl. The shame belongs to a society which treats women like dirt.