The UK’s Rape Jihad: A Survivor’s Tale


For years now, Muslim rape gangs in Britain have operated with impunity, preying upon non-Muslim girls while terrified authorities stood by and did nothing, for fear of being accused of “racism.” One of them recently contacted me and told me her harrowing story:

I was the victim of Muslim grooming gangs for well over a decade.

I was very young when it started. I have a very fuzzy memory of the very beginning. My childhood friend remembers me being picked up from a primary school by an older man and being given ketamine, coming home completely out of it, with lots of new underwear, so it began earlier than I remember. My parents worked a lot, so they weren’t really around to notice anything. My friend did at some point tell my parents, but I’m not sure when she did that.

We ended up moving areas, but not too far, now my earliest clear memory starts at 14, we had moved house. I was waiting to be accepted into a school, from what I remember. This man, the very same man picking me up from primary school came to my parents’ home while they were out working, and while my brother was at his school. It was a morning. His name was Jason, I don’t know if he was a Muslim. He was 28 or in his early 30s.  

I was quite naive. He had come to take photos of me for a modelling portfolio — at least that’s what he said. They ended up being pictures in my underwear. Eventually he said we needed a different environment and asked if there was a bedroom we could use. I took him to my parents’ bedroom. I thought nothing of it, I didn’t realise it would get worse.

He took more pictures. Then he told me to take everything off and gave me some stockings to out on. I remember the feeling of my stomach turning over, I was really scared. But I did as I was told.

As far as I am aware, I had never been naked in front of a man before then. It’s hard to know with what my friend has recently told me about the ketamine.

Anyway, more pictures were taken. After awhile, I heard my brother come through the door with his friends. It would have been school lunchtime. I panicked, jumped up and held the door shut, I shouted to him not to come up the stairs as I had just got out of the bath. By the time I turned around Jason had taken off his clothes. Again I was shocked. I’d never seen a naked man before. In fact, I’d never even kissed a boy. 

I felt myself going red with embarrassment. I told him he would have to go as soon as my brother left. He told me I had better be quiet or my brother would hear me and my parents would find out what I had been up to. He forced himself into me and raped me. I remember him laughing and saying to me, you’re a virgin, aren’t you. 

I’ll never forget the smug look on his face in that moment. When he was done with me, he threw money into the bed and told me to buy some nice underwear and that he would be in touch.

The minute he left, I ran a hot bath and just lay on the floor crying while I waited for it to fill.

I felt so ashamed and dirty.

Everything changed that day. I didn’t come out of my room unless I had to. I barely ate. I hated myself.

It wasn’t long until he was back in touch, demanding that I see his friends. The majority were Pakistani Muslim men. If I objected, he threatened to show my parents the photos of me.

I was terrified of them finding out, so I did as I was told.

When the pictures didn’t bother me anymore, and I objected, I would get beatings instead. My ribs were kicked in several times, leaving massive bruises. I was hit with a chain. I was gang raped. I became very compliant, because saying no always lead to much worse. The lives of my family were threatened by Jason and his friends: they said my house would be burned down while we slept, or people would come with baseball bats. I didn’t want my family hurt, so I just did everything I was told.

I have seen some horrendous things, heard some disgusting things when they talked amongst each other about the evil things they do to their wives. The men often spoke in groups about the horrific things they did to their wives and other women. I had to sit and listen.

I was made to talk to their wives on the phone while they raped me, on many occasions. They found it funny, the men. 

I have also been through some unimaginable things. I have had a knife held to my throat while I was raped and told by my rapist that he could kill me then put me under the floorboards of his home and no one would know because he was going to Pakistan in a week. I was 16 or 17 years old.

I have had a drill held to my knee while I was sat in a lounge room with around 6 other men, who all laughed and talked in their own language. All of these men were Pakistani Muslims. This all happened while they were waiting for their turn to rape the girl in the other room. This is how they worked. It was a bit like a production line.

I remember it all very well. I would be taken to one of many places, the back of a shop, a takeaway, a taxi office, a barber shop, wooded areas or countrysides very late at night, which was terrifying (they threatened to leave me there once). Most of all I was taken to houses or flats, on the odd occasion a hotel. A lot of the time I was taken to flats they were renovating.

After some time I was no longer having to see just one man at a time as standard. I would be taken to a flat by 2 or 3 men, and when we got there, most often there would be more men waiting inside — on average around 8 men one after the other.

I’d be put in a room and told to take off all of my clothes. I would have to lay there and each man would take his turn one after the other, sometimes some of them would come back again. Sometimes more would show up.

I wasn’t allowed to move, clean myself up, until they were all finished with me. I was not allowed to leave that bed even to use the bathroom until they said so, and most of the time there was no running water or toilet paper, at very best there was cold running water. None of the men used protection, so I caught multiple STIs several times. I wasn’t allowed to use protection. I felt disgusting, so dirty.

Each time I was taken off with these men, sometimes this would happen two or three times a day. Whenever they wanted me, I had to go, whatever time of day it was. I missed a lot of school because of this.

It didn’t matter if I was crying while they raped me, they would laugh and do it anyway.

Just to list some of the things they did to me:

I have had a razor blade squeezed into the palm of my hand.

I have had a knife to my throat more than once. Also a knife held to my stomach.

I have been told how I could be murdered and put under the floorboards by a Muslim man while he raped me, holding the knife in one hand, my wrists pinned to the bed with the other.

I’ve been taken to the woods after midnight and threatened to be left there if I didn’t do as asked.

I’ve been peed on, spat on, slapped, kicked, punched, called a white whore.

They tried to get me to marry Muslim men into the country.

They wanted to take me to Pakistan a few times. Luckily for me, I didn’t have a passport.

I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve been passed to Muslim groups.

There were other girls. I wasn’t the only one. There was a lot they did to us. None of them were ever nice.

I was told if I ever told anyone what was happening to me, I’d have acid poured down my throat.

I remember one afternoon being taken into a room by two men, one being quite drunk. I tried to leave and he threw a vodka bottle at me and flew at me. His friend stopped him beating me and started to talk to him in their language and before I knew it I was pinned between them both and they both raped me. They were laughing as I cried.

They then made me sit with them while they finished their drinks. Eventually they allowed me to leave. I walked 2 miles to get home.

I self-harmed a lot, so I am now covered in scars. I did it at first to make myself less attractive to these men, hoping they wouldn’t want to touch me. That never worked, one of them wanted to cut me some more, for blood play. 

I tried to commit suicide several times, as I saw no escape from this. I have no idea how I survived the last overdose, I took 630 mg of codeine, along with sleeping pills and a bottle of alcohol.

These men find it ok to rape non-Muslim girls. It’s in their culture. It’s a brutal cult and needs to be stopped. I still see these men today, they still recognise me, I have moved several times but it’s ineffective.

They are all still free. The English “justice” system is crap. When I was around 15, my mum called the police. The officer sent to deal with me was a well over 6 foot tall built up black man who I found intimidating. He seemed angry with me, asking me very intimate and upsetting questions. When I asked him to stop, he said I had to get used to it, as this is what I would have to deal with in court. He told me that if I were to testify, I would get no protection. For that reason, I never took it further.

The police told my mother that I was a known prostitute and to leave me to it, that I’d stop when I was ready.

In anger, my mum took my phone and rang Jason. He laughed and told her what he did to me in her bed, and that I loved it and couldn’t keep my hands off him.

After a while, I would have been just about 16, my mum had to kick me out because it was all getting too much. My mental state was bad, men were showing up at our home, hanging around in gangs outside the house in cars. It was too much for her and she had to protect my brother too, so I had to go.

I went to live in a youth hostel, where things went from bad to worse.

I was eventually controlled by a Muslim man in his forties or fifties. His name was Yusuf.

I have records dating back about 14 years of me trying to get help, telling medical professionals. And them not believing me. All but one.

Some still see me today and talk brazenly about the things they did, and still do. The police haven’t been helpful. I am utterly disgusted at the lack of interest from the police and the lack of protection they have given me despite the information I have given them. These people do know where I live, so I just hope the police do not use my name in their reports, like they said they may have to.

They ruined a big part of my life. Now, I am angry. I can’t let them win. I’m afraid, yes, but I am now doing what I can to get the message out there of what goes on with these gangs. 

What kind of country, what kind of civilization, allows this to happen to its young girls? What deep sickness has overtaken Britain, that the authorities will not act to protect girls in this situation? Britain, and the West in general, is entering a dark and savage age.

Pamela Geller is the President of the American Freedom Defense Initiative (AFDI), publisher of and author of The Post-American Presidency: The Obama Administration’s War on America and Stop the Islamization of America: A Practical Guide to the Resistance. Follow her on Twitter here. Like her on Facebook here.


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