Don’t shame us.
Do you understand? Don’t you understand?
The towels.
The sheets.
I’m a woman who has been struggling her entire life.
Ever since I was a little girl,
I’ve been struggling.
My father was a national railways inspector.
He passed away.
I got married to a man who came from a modest family.
I thought they’d care about my wellbeing.
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”
Tell me! How do you men feel when you say such words? Do you ever mean it? What if it shows in your eyes and voice? How do you men fake it so well? Or do you enjoy conquering us, and count us as yet another bounty?
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 liked to sleep next to my parents in bed.
I’d hug my mother for a while,
Then turn over,
And hug my father.
One day, my father didn’t come home.
I stayed up all night waiting for him.
A couple of days later,
I heard he got married.