Totya Platform did not begin as an organisation. It began with lived experience — and with the reality of facing sexual violence, silence, and years without support.
In Uganda, sexual abuse often stays hidden — not because it doesn’t happen, but because people don’t talk about it.
For a child, speaking up is especially hard, more so when the person responsible is an adult they’re supposed to trust. Fear plays a big part. So does shame. And too often, the fear of not being believed. Many keep quiet because they’ve seen what happens when others try to speak — they’re dismissed, questioned, or ignored.
So the conversations never happen. The truth stays buried. And what was done to them becomes something they carry alone.
For some, that silence doesn’t just last months — it stretches into years.
For a long time, the weight of what had happened was carried in silence. Help only came later, through anonymous online counselling. For the first time, there was space to speak openly—to be heard without fear—and to start making sense of it all.
That experience made something very clear. Survivors don’t just need someone to listen. They need a safe, private way to reach out in the first place, without fear or shame. That understanding is what shaped Totya’s first response.
As healing began, the first instinct was simple—create a way for survivors to reach out and talk without worrying about being exposed.
We started with WhatsApp. It was familiar, easy to access, and allowed people to speak to a counsellor privately, even anonymously. Nothing complicated—just a safe line of communication when it was needed most.
At that point, the focus was clear: make it easier for survivors to ask for help in a way that feels natural, personal, and discreet.
Using WhatsApp made it possible for survivors to reach out quickly and safely. It worked—people could finally speak.
But it didn’t take long to see the gap.
Many of those who needed help most simply couldn’t stay connected. Data costs, unstable access—sometimes even having a phone at all—made it hard to rely on something like WhatsApp.
So what seemed like a good solution at first wasn’t reaching everyone. That’s when the focus shifted—from just offering support, to making sure that support could actually reach people where they are.
Once people started reaching out, another reality quickly came into focus.
Many weren’t just looking for someone to talk to—they were in the middle of a crisis. Some had just been raped and needed to know where to go, what to do, who to turn to right away. Others were mothers calling about their children, unsure of what steps to take after abuse had happened.
Those conversations made it clear: a safe space to talk mattered, but it wasn’t enough. People needed immediate, practical support—and they needed it to be coordinated.
Those calls made it clear—access alone wasn’t enough. Survivors weren’t just looking for someone to talk to. They needed a response that could meet them in the middle of a crisis and actually help them move forward.
What started as a simple idea had to grow. It meant stepping in where it mattered—covering medical care so survivors could get treatment without delay, providing ongoing counselling, and working closely with local leaders, police, and prosecutors to make sure cases didn’t just get reported, but followed through.
Thats how Totya Platform was formed as a response shaped directly by the realities survivors were facing.
Before Totya Platform became what it is today, it started with a personal journey—one that exposed just how difficult it can be for survivors to find real support, and how many gaps exist along the way.
That experience still shapes how Totya works today.
