I married him twenty years ago.
Not a single year passed by without beatings, humiliation, scandals, and divorce.
He’s stingy and horrible.
He humiliates me in front of everyone.
He’s sick.
He has a terrible personality,
And he’s weak.
He doesn’t even perform his marital obligations—
He can’t do it.
He always finds something to hold over my head.
I’m fed up with him.

Whenever I see my grandma, she grabs my finger and asks me the same question every time,
“When are you going to make me happy?”
“You’re not happy?”
“No.”
“How can I make you happy?”
“By getting married.”
“But what about my own happiness?”

I work in a pharmacy.
One day an old lady walked in with her daughter.
“Assalam alikum. Are you a miss or a mrs.?”
“I’m the pharmacist,” I replied, “Can I help you?”
She asked for some pills.
Then I heard her telling her daughter:
“It’s alright to ask her.”

I learned one day that my neighbor whom I used to play with was getting married.
She was almost 16 years old.
“I’ve got something that my husband will take from me and throw away tomorrow morning,” she said.

I got married after 6 years of being in love.
During that time,
I found out he was cheating on me with the live-in maid,
Who took care of his mother.
I confronted him at first,
but he denied it.

Unlike most girls, I never had any expectations or dreams about my wedding night. Nor did I exert any effort to think of what would happen once I was alone with my husband—whom I hardly knew—for the first time.

The first time I was hit was by my brother Mohamed.
I was 14 years old.
I was flirting with a couple of boys.
I was wearing a skirt that day,
And I was standing by the door.
How dare I stand by the door like that?
My brother hit me with a hose across my chest.
I asked God for revenge.
He was imprisoned the following day.
domestic violence, physical violence, parents, marriage

There are a lot of women going through the same experience as I am.
It’s dealing with oppression due to the molds we put ourselves in.
social pressure, marriage, romantic relationships

Being a woman is hard. Really hard.
Everything is exhausting.
It requires tremendous effort just to live a normal life.

I was running to get away from him.
I was running so I wouldn't get kidnapped in the dark.
It’s as if the world decided to stand against me.
I hopped in a minibus,
And I don’t remember what happened after.