It was the summer break of year seven.
I was on the beach with my parents and relatives.
I saw him trying to get closer.
There was nothing I could do though.
After a while I went for a walk.
He followed me and then his mom called on me and asked “what year are you in?”
“I am in year seven”
I honestly don’t understand people who ask me that question.
“How could you let him?”
It’s not like when a man’s about to beat up his wife, he stops to ask her if she’d let him first.
Why is there an assumption that just because something happened, she must have agreed to it?
gender violence, marriage, social pressure, romantic relationships
I was eighteen years old,
When my father would hit me and tell me,
“Will you answer back to your husband like this?”
“Will my husband hit me and treat me like this? I asked him.
“He’s going to beat you into pieces.
And if you come running to me,
I’ll send you back to him,” he replied.
domestic violence; physical violence; gender violence; parents; marriage
You’re beautiful.
I’m not beautiful like you.
Are you going to be happy?
Does he hug you?
He loves you, right? Did he say it to you? Are you sure?
I used to always watch her from the examination room window in the government hospital that I worked at.
Her name was Sokkara. She was young. She couldn’t be older than 13 years old.
I like my job, but I wish it was treated like any other job.
All jobs have evolved except ours.
Cooks have become chefs, doormen are now security guards…
But people still look down on our job.
We’re embarrassed to tell people we clean homes.
social pressure, social stigma, work, marriage
Her parents kept her locked up at home.
Her computer was always being watched.
Her job was located near her house.
She wasn’t allowed out on her own.
She was 33 years old.