I used to love someone.
We worked together.
I really admired his personality.
He asked for my hand in marriage,
But my parents rejected him,
Because he was from a different social class.
I had a feeling he was ambitious,
And that he’d amount to something.
When we were engaged,
He was always concerned with the apartment,
And getting it ready.
I have been following the campaign for a while
I feel pain for all these girls.
I am not sure how my story will come across in comparison to all these painful stories.
I was lucky that the doctor refused to conduct the procedure,
And said, “there doesn't seem to be anything worth cutting”
I stopped hearing about her a long time ago.
When I found out that she was in a relationship,
With someone who was prepared for marriage,
And that they were intending to get married,
I withdrew in a nice manner and wished her all the best.
I mean I know my luck:
I am always too late.
They made me lie down on a bed.
Then all of the sudden,
They were taking off my clothes.
I screamed and cried.
They tried to hold me but couldn’t.
I kicked and squirmed.
I didn’t want them to do anything to me.
They brought my older sister in to calm me down.
But nothing would.
Why hit me for peeing myself,
When she could’ve tried to figure out why I was struggling with it?
Why hit me for putting on lipstick as a child,
When she could’ve just told me not to?
Why hit me with belts, cables and shoes,
When she could’ve reasoned with me?
The employee responsible for distributing the supplies came out of the office.
He wanted to pass through the women’s line.
He didn’t want to accidentally touch anyone,
So he made his way using his elbows.
Unfortunately, I was the first in line.
gender violence, physical violence, work
That was until the day I swore to leave and never come back,
When he beat me and slapped me across my face,
Because we got into a heated argument.
My body bruised and bled.
gender violence, marriage, divorce, physical violence
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.
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.