Girls grow up a little bit every day.
They get taller,
Fatter,
And curvier.
They get ready for the day,
When they become ladies.
Whenever I see my grandma, she grabs my finger and asks me the same question every time,
“When are you going to make me happy?”
“You’re not happy?”
“No.”
“How can I make you happy?”
“By getting married.”
“But what about my own happiness?”
I have to sit a certain way, I can't move my hands when I speak.
I can't cry around people, and if someone hits me, I have to hit them back. These are just a few examples of things I should do if I want "to be a man."
I’m still going to be myself, no matter how much this costs me and no matter how many times people tell me that I'm "not a man."
Did you see what Miss Hoda did to Sarah?
I was speaking to her from the bus window, and she was standing below.
Miss Hoda came and slapped her.
My mother started buying me things for my dowry when I was in middle school.
She got so many towels, sheets, underwear, blankets,
Pots and cups.
Ever since I was a kid, I struggled to please everyone around me. I tried to look they way they wanted me to.
“Wear this”. Okay.
“Get a haircut”. Okay.
“Dancing isn’t allowed”. Okay.
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