In high school,
I had reached my limit.
I scored 45% because my father forced me to into the science track,
When I actually wanted to take the literature track.
In my last year of highschool,
I switched to the literature track.
I studied hard so I could get into the university I wanted.
I scored 95%.
“You’re still going to study computer science.”

“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.

My father used to yell at me all the time.
For things like putting too much food on his plate,
Or him not liking the tea,
Or if the tea was cold.
He would even yell at me if I left the window open when it was cold outside.
I was supposed to figure out that he was cold on my own.
parents, domestic violence, gender violence

I’ve always liked to read about everything.
I got my period in the eighth grade,
And I knew what it was from the things I had read.
I used to place tissues in my underwear,
Until I found out about pads.

I was around 12 years old.
Our relatives were visiting on the day I got my first period.
I hid in the bathroom.
I was too scared to come out.
I didn’t know what to tell them.
My mother then called for me.
She came in and hugged me.
She told me it was a normal thing.

I was playing down in the street the first time I was hit.
One of the girls I was playing with hit me.
I went to her house,
And started throwing rocks at it,
But she didn’t come out.
I went up to her house,
And her mother answered the door.
I went inside and started hitting her.
“Aren’t you a bold little girl?”
Her mother exclaimed.

I’m a country girl, unfortunately.
I am 27 years old.
I’ve been getting beaten up and humiliated since I was 3 years old.
I remember every blow, and the pain.
I still have scars on my body,
That serve as a constant reminder.

Mariam, my daughter, came to me a couple of days ago,
Telling me that her friend, Salma, who had just turned 10,
Was being forced by her parents to wear the veil because she’s all grown up now.

My stepfather was the first person to ever harass me.
I wasn’t even 10 years old yet.
I didn’t understand a thing.
He would sneak in at night while I was asleep.
When I’d wake up, he’d pretend to be asleep on the floor,
Or pretend to be checking on my brother.
I told my mother when I understood what was happening.
But she didn’t believe me.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents

His cousin tried to convince me to go back to him.
I told him I won’t.
He said, “Do it for the girls.”
I told him, “Growing up with a mother and father, who are divorced, but respect one another, is so much better than living with two people who hate each other.”