Help Me, Baba!

Help Me, Baba!

I was in the third grade,
And my sister was three years older than I am.
“We’re going to the doctor’s to make sure you’re okay,” they told us.
“Why?
Are we sick?”
No one answered.
We went to a very cold place.
I remember it being closed.
Or it was at a faraway place that was probably unlicensed.
Baba took my sister,
And there was a female relative with us,
And they went inside a room.
I’ll never forget the terror.
I heard screaming, crying, and the words “Baba, please help me!”
I fainted.
I regained consciousness as they were cutting off a piece of me.
I couldn’t understand why I felt like I was going to die of pain, embarrassment, and fear.
I felt betrayed,
I was awake and nobody had given me anesthesia.
They took us back home,
Like sheep.
I still suffer from complications related to FGM.

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