I’m 27 years old. When I was 19, I left my mother’s place, taking my sisters along with me, and went to stay at my father’s.
We left because mother used to beat and belittle us.
In her mind, she owned us. She educated us. We belonged to her.

One day, he made the sudden decision to get rid of our television, claiming that it was “brainwashing and influencing” me.
Another time, after our first fight, he took my mobile away.
“You’re never seeing this phone again.”
He was so angry that I was afraid he’d do something to me.

He knocked me to the floor of our home,
And kept punching me in the stomach,
Threatening to chop my hair off.
No one came to my rescue,
So I decided to leave.

I’m extremely lonely.
I’ve never felt safe.
My family is well-off,
And we have everything we need.
But that’s not enough.
I’ve never felt safe with my family.
There are always problems and fights.

One incident I remember the most,
Is when my maternal uncle hit me because of my mother.
My mother is not an easy going woman.
My uncle’s wife was insulting my mother in her presence.
I tried to talk back,
But my mother told me not to.
I couldn’t stay quiet,
So I asked my uncle’s wife,
“Why are you insulting my mother?”
domestic violence, physical violence, parents, social pressure

My husband is really upset with me!
He hit me yesterday, but it was all my fault.
I made up with him because I love him.

My father used to beat me up pretty badly over trivial things.
I used to get beaten if I used the bathroom too many times at school,
Or for telling my teacher that my father was being hard on me.

When my father died,
My brother decided he’d be the man of the house.
That didn’t mean that he’d help us.
It meant my sisters and I would be his servants.

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

“You’re a failure.”
My father has always called me a “failure” ever since I was little.
I don’t remember when he started calling me that.
But he still does.