Pamela* with Zarina Geloo

I grew up in a rural village and my parents were very poor.

My mother sent me to the city to get a job. My aunt enrolled me at a training centre for domestic workers.

A diplomat's wife came looking for house-help after I finished my course a year ago.

At first, everything was fine.

After the second month, my employer went home to see her sick mother. I was a bit apprehensive to be alone, but after a week I began to relax.

One night the husband came into my room and raped me three times. There was no one around to hear my screams

The next night he came back again. In the morning he told me to be "ready" for him and locked me in the house.

I sent a note with the driver to the embassy secretary, telling her what was happening.

The next thing I knew, my employer said her husband said I was stealing things and she gave me to someone else.

I worked in peace at my new employment for a while. The woman of the house was very kind.

Unfortunately, she died of cancer.

The night she went into hospital, her husband raped me. This went on for a month.

I managed to get word to the secretary at the embassy and she came to get me.

I was pregnant. I managed to get a backstreet abortion and went back home.

Some days all I feel is anger, others I just cry .

*Not her real name.

l This story from Zambia is part of the I Story series produced by the Gender Links Opinion and Commentary Service.