R. Kelly sexually abused me as a teen — what happened to me in court afterward was inexcusable

Being abused by R. Kelly for years was traumatic enough for Reshona Landfair. But what happened to her in court during singer R. Kelly’s six-year child pornography trial in the 2000s was another kind of horror.

Landfair, the author of new memoir “Who Was Watching Shorty: Reclaiming Myself from the Shame of R. Kelly’s Abuse,” out now, says neither her name nor likeness were redacted from legal documents — or concealed during courtroom proceedings — as Kelly, nèe Robert Sylvester Kelly, faced and was acquitted of charges stemming from a graphic video filmed in the late 1990s. 

Troubling footage showing her nude body, submitted into evidence and shown repeatedly, featured the “Down Low” singer, then in his 30s, urinating on a 14-year-old Landfair’s face. She did not testify against Kelly at trial, which ultimately resulted in a not guilty verdict. 

Landfair, now 41, exclusively told The Post that even without taking the stand at the time, her life has been irrevocably affected by the exposure of her personal information. 

“There was no professional setting that I could be in where that situation wouldn’t come up — or if I’m in a relationship or dating,” Landfair lamented. “It’s affected me in many areas that I don’t even speak about.”

Across the pages of her tome, the Chicagoan details the trauma she claims to have endured, first at the hands of Kelly — and then the legal system. 

“I felt disgusted,” Landfair writes, describing the alleged illicit exploit. “I was still a virgin at that point, and I didn’t know too much sexually, but I knew this felt horribly wrong.”

“I was just his puppet at that point.”

A lawyer for Kelly — now age 59 and serving 20- and 30-year prison sentences in federal custody — recently released a statement, saying, in part, “At a young age, Ms. Landfair was unfairly forced into the public eye against her will by people that were intent on destroying the reputation of R. Kelly. She did not deserve that. 

“Mr. Kelly has no negative comments to make about her.”

In her book, Landfair claims she’d never watched the vile tape until she testified against Kelly during his 2022 racketeering and sex crimes trial. But she writes that, as a minor, she quickly learned that her ID and underage frame was not protected by the powers that be in the ‘08 case. 

“Since my name was not redacted during Robert’s 2008 trial, that meant my first and last names were in everybody’s mouth, both in the courtroom and out,” Landfair pens. “The only minor saving grace was that people didn’t know how to spell my name.”

In Illinois, where the hearings were held, the rape shield law, “states that the prior sexual activity or reputation of the victim is inadmissible as evidence,” per the Department of Justice’s National Institute of Justice. “The only exception to this blanket prohibition is evidence concerning prior sexual conduct between the victim and the defendant.”

Landfair was not in court during the litigation. 

“I could not know that jurors silently gasped or snickered while a gallery full of spectators did the same as they watched a child pornography video for a trial about child pornography,” she writes. “It’s painful to think about, even now.”

In the tell-all, she descriptively winces at the thought of strangers observing the footage as, “my young, naked, brown body was degraded and abused for free.”

“I wonder, if my body hadn’t been brown, would anyone outside of the jury have seen it exposed and abused? Would anyone even know my name?,” Landfair says, questioning whether race played a role in the case. 

She echoed those concerns to The Post. 

“In [Black] culture, we’re silenced on a lot of things,” said Landfair. “We’re made [out] to be girls who are ‘fast’ (or sexually precocious) because [our bodies] develop differently than other races.”

Landfair says it’s a stigma that has helped major entities capitalize on her distress for decades. 

“Podcasts have made money off of me for many years. Comedians have made money off of my trauma for many years,” she tells The Post. “The [entertainment] industry has made money. I’ve always been the face and the name that this situation draws back to.”

Now, even as a proud survivor of the abuse, Landfair admittedly finds it challenging, at times, to escape the trauma of the trail — as well as that of Kelly.

“When I walk into my job, every morning, his music is [almost always playing] on the loudspeaker,” said the school health counselor. “Chicago is very engulfed in [R. Kelly’s] career.”

“I have moments when I’m triggered. There’s a certain melody that will take me back to a place,” she continued. “But I’ve done the work. Now, I can hear the music, go back to that [negative] feeling, but push through it rather than feel anger.”

For Landfair, now a mother of one, the “work” that’s helping her overcome the past includes prayer, advocacy and self-love. 

“Everything that I’ve been through molded me into the woman that I am today,” she insisted. “I’m becoming more beautiful and more self-assured day by day.”

“I’m here to turn my pain into purpose.”