I was a little older at the time.
I was in the seventh grade when mama took me to a gynecologist.
The doctor said, verbatim, “she doesn’t need to be circumcised.”
I understood what they were talking about,
What they wanted to do to me.
“The doctor said I don’t need it,” I told them.
“We know better than the doctor,” my aunt retorted,
“People like her want girls to grow up all horny [and other such phrases]. Let’s find a midwife to do it.”
That day,
They took me to a midwife and promised she’d only examine me.
I went in.
She sprayed anesthetic,
But I felt everything.
There was blood everywhere.
“Recovery is going to be difficult for your daughter,” the midwife told my mother.”
“Yeah, her blood doesn’t clot very quickly,” my mother said.
“She’s bleeding heavily!” the midwife exclaimed.
They took me to a nearby clinic.
I don’t remember anything after that.

The funny thing is that I kept getting phone calls from women in the family.
They were congratulating me on my circumcision.
For real?! Are you people okay?
Ever since then,
I’ve become really horny.
I masturbate like crazy,
Maybe even on a daily basis.

I’m tired.
On both the physical and psychological levels.
I’m tired of the ignorance.
I can’t forgive them for what they did to me.
I can’t forget what happened:
I remember being carried while I bled heavily,
Screaming at the top of my lungs,
And not one of them thought to hug me.
“Stop screaming! You’re causing a scene,” was the only thing they said.
Really? Causing a scene? That’s all you’re going to say to me?

I kept quiet when I was young,
Because I didn’t want to create a scene.
But now,
I can’t stop screaming on the inside whenever I remember.