I didn’t have a childhood.
My mother burdened me with responsibilities very early on.
Women here work on the farm,
Milk the cows,
And feed the birds.
My mother would set off to do these things,
And when she’d come back,
She’d hit me.
“Why didn’t you make dinner?”

I got married when I was thirteen years old.
Here, people go to bed after Ishaa prayer (night prayer).
My fiance came by one day,
And I was too embarrassed to tell him that everyone had slept.
As soon as he left,
My father beat me with a stick.
“How dare you open the door for him?
You bitch!”

Needless to say my wedding night was such a joy.
“Come on!” he kept telling me.
I didn’t know how to do anything.
I wouldn’t take off my clothes.
“I’m on my period,” I said.
He went to his sisters downstairs,
And they told him,
“Go back up, dumbass.
She’s fooling you.”
“How could that little short girl fool you,
And make you come to us downstairs?” his sister said to him.
“What are you doing?” his sister came up to ask me.
There’s no need to talk about what came next.
I spent the worst days of my life with him.
Thank God, anyway.

I was fourteen years old.
He was my brother’s friend.
He was an orphan,
And he postponed his military conscription.
I married him,
And problems started happening during the first month of marriage.
He sold the gold jewellery my father gave me.
“We’ll sell the gold,
And start a little business from home.”
He started raising birds,
And would make me sell them in the market,
While he slept.

This went on for a year,
In addition to the beatings and humiliation.
“Either you go back and serve in the army,
Or we separate,” I told him.
He told his family that he enlisted himself,
And stayed at home for a month.
I would visit my parents every day,
To get food for his majesty.
The houses in our neighborhood were quite close to each other.
People could see a shadow through the window,
When he was supposed to be serving in the military.
People in our neighborhood thought I was cheating on my husband.
That’s when he enlisted himself,
And was imprisoned for a year.

I would visit him,
And bring him food, cigarettes, and money.
He was very nice to me during the visits.
He felt bad that I had to go through this.
When he was back home,
He went back to his old self.
When a friend would visit me,
He’d beat me after she’d leave.
He didn’t want me to be in contact with anyone.

I told him to learn plumbing,
And he did.
I bought him a tool kit.
He started working,
But things weren’t stable.
Then, he got a visa for Saudi Arabia.
I borrowed money so he could travel.
When he travelled,
His family began to think that I wasn’t good enough for him.
They made him turn on me.
“Your wife is doing this.”
“Your wife is doing that.”

He came back for a week,
Divorced me and left.
Without even talking to me.
He took the children to his brother.
These problems went on for eight years after the divorce.
He’d beat the children for visiting me.
He only acted all macho with me,
Which annoyed me.
I stayed with my parents for a long time.
I was forbidden from seeing my children for a long time.
I couldn’t talk to them when they’d visit.

I refused to get married during those eight years.
I married my current husband eventually.
He’s just like him.
He pays no regard to tradition,
And shows me no respect.
I didn’t marry him out of love.
I married him because his wife died when their daughter was just two years old.
She couldn’t even walk yet.
“I’ll marry him,” I told them.
He was seventeen years older than me,
And had four kids.
They showed me hell.
My life was miserable.
I can’t complain, though,
Because it was my choice.