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.
There were a lot of women of different ages on the stairs,
And everywhere else.
They were all gathered in front of a specific room.
I was terrified.
I didn’t know what was happening.
Then, a tall, chubby man came out,
Carrying the older girl’s sister.
She wasn’t wearing any pants,
And she was bandaged up.
I was 12 when I travelled with my family at the end of term to Upper Egypt.
That’s where the story began.
One day, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach,
I felt nauseous for three days straight.
That’s when my aunt, who was a 65 year old uneducated woman, decided,
“Our girl is getting older… the midwife must visit.”
I was in primary school when I was 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 that I was now a woman.
I knew where they were taking me.
I knew what was going to happen.
But I didn’t know how it was going to be done.
One day,
In the middle of the first term of seventh grade,
Mama sent me over to my aunt’s.
“Go see what she wants,” she said.
When I went over to her place,
She told me to accompany her to the doctor’s.
I thought she was sick.
While we were waiting for our turn, she said,
“The doctor is going to examine you.”
My mother-in-law called my mother to tell her to circumcise my daughter.
My mother called me and asked,
“Aren’t you going to circumcise her? We’re nearing the end of the lunar month.”
gender violence, fgm, parents, social pressure
I was a little older at the time.
I was in the seventh grade when mama took me to a gynecologist.
The doctor said, verbatim, “she doesn’t need to be circumcised.”
I understood what they were talking about,
What they wanted to do to me.
“The doctor said I don’t need it,” I told them.
“We know better than the doctor,” my aunt retorted
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.