When I’m alone, pondering my rejection of this rotten, patriarchal world, I wonder if my opinions truly are extreme.
I mean, so what if my uncle divorced his wife five times?
And what's wrong with my other uncle being married to three women at the same time?
And why is it a big deal that my aunt was once beaten up with a pair of flip flops for refusing to make a cup of tea for her
husband, who was lazing in front of the TV watching a football match while she was busy scrubbing the bathroom floor?

The beating and grounding started in childhood by my father,
Over the silliest things
Like suspecting I’m in a relationship.
My brother also beat me,
Since he was considered a father figure.
It ended with being beaten by my husband.

After 12 days of marriage,
Full of hitting, swearing, and being rude,
I called his brother.
He told me the same old garbage:
“He’s young. He’ll change. Be patient.”
domestic violence, gender violence, physical violence, addiction, marriage, divorce, social stigma

My first divorce was because I wouldn't have sex with him,
But there were a lot of things I didn’t understand.
My family didn’t tell me anything.
I didn’t know anything at all.
To the extent that I wasn’t quite sure what the bridal cloth was for.
domestic violece; gender violence; physcial violence; sex; motherhood; addiction; social pressure; marriage; divorce

I’m still living my story.
It started when baba made me break off my engagement,
To the man I loved,
Because they had a disagreement.
“God will be pleased with you,
Because you’re doing as I say,” he told me.

My brother hit me once,
Because I was going to the doctor,
And he didn’t like what I was wearing.
He beat me until my clothes were ripped,
And I was hurt.

My father was the first person to touch me.
I used to tell myself that I was imagining it.
When he’d touch me with his leg from behind,
I’d tell myself he was just being playful.

When I got engaged,
He would routinely humiliate me in front of my fiancé.
When you do so in front of him,
He’ll do the same to me when we’re married,
And that’s eventually what happened.
domestic violence, gender violence, physical violence, parents, divorce, marriage

“Where are you?
Tell me where you are now.
Why are you so late?
Tell me now.
I’m not going to hang up.
We’ll continue this conversation when you come home.
Right now.
I want you here in five minutes.
I don’t care how.”

He was always suspicious of me.
Whenever he went out, he’d wedge a single hair between the door and the doorframe.
When he’d get back home, he’d check the door to see if I’d gone out.
His suspicions were very hard to deal with.
When God was going to bless us with a baby, my husband gave me an ultimatum: “It’s either me or the baby.”
So, I went and got an abortion.
motherhood, social stigma, domestic violence, prison, physical violence