The ancient rural house always filled me with fear.
The fear doesn’t just stem from the tales that we weaved around it,
but also from the terrifying scene that I once witnessed in the courtyard of that house.
This scene has been imprinted in my mind for many years, and I haven't been able to shake it off till now.

I don’t remember my circumcision clearly.
Ever since it happened,
I’ve been avoiding thinking about anything related to my body.
I always feel like there’s something missing.
That I’m not really a girl.
My family’s strange beliefs are the reason for this.

That is why I hate my body,
Every inch of it.

It was my dad who made the decision.
When my mother objected,
He threatened to get one of his doctor friends to do it behind her back.
I found that out,
Ten years after they took away a part of my body.

For the longest time, perhaps until after highschool, I thought all girls were like me.
Then I found out that not all of them were like me.
I didn’t understand what it meant. What’s the difference?
I would always avoid thinking about the incident.
Until a black cloud formed in my mind, engulfing the memory of this incident.

I was in the seventh grade,
When mama and baba told me:
“You’ve grown up and you need to be circumcised.”
I didn’t understand what was going to happen,
Or what exactly they were going to do.
All I understood was that if I didn’t remove that specific part,
It was going to grow to look like a male part.

We went with them,
And I don’t remember anything about that day,
Except for the doctor yelling at me.
She told me to take off my pants,
But I refused.
They gave me anesthesia,
And cut off a part of me.
I regained consciousness when I had become a “woman.”
Everything changed after that day.

I was in primary school when I got circumcised.
I already knew about it,
Because my cousins had it done to them before me.
I thought it was a good thing,
And that it would mean I’m all grown up.
I knew where I was headed.
I knew what was going to happen to me.
But I didn’t know how it was going to be done.

Gender violence; sexual violence; physical violence; FGM; sex

I was around 13.
We were in the countryside, where every girl had to be circumcised.
One of my mother’s relatives was a nurse, and used to perform circumcisions.
She examined me at first to check what will need to be cut,
It was the first time in my life that someone would examine me like that.

I had a friend in the sixth grade,
And one day she called me,
Voice brimming with pride,
And told me that she had been circumcised.
She explained what it was.
She said her parents had taken her to a doctor for the operation.
They said that circumcision was a nice thing,
And it made girls look prettier.
The girl was bragging and stuff.
Then all of the sudden,
She asked me if I’d been circumcised.
“No.”
“Why haven’t your parents done it for you?”
“I don’t know.”

These are the eight scenes I remember from the crime that has left me scarred, psychologically and physically, since the age of ten.
The “cosmetic procedure” my mother made me undergo has made me hate this part of my body.
fgm, gender violence, social pressure