Herstory: Told Stories of Unknown yet Familiar Women I
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As an avid reader I've met so many
female characters that tell heart wrenching stories. In novels I see and witness
their abuse and pain. This is the story of Aya for privacy I'm unable to reveal
her real identity.
Her story begins like that of Najwa,
a character in Hisham Matar's In the Country of Men except that the
setting is not in the Maghreb Arab world but in a part of Africa that doesn't
have Islamic dominance. Her story is quite like Mara's in Ama Darko's Beyond the Horizon the only difference being that she is not trafficked and turned into a prostitute in Europe.
Let me bring out Aya to share her story with you.
“Growing up I was a very happy girl
and had a lot of friends of both sexes. I was in love with a boy in my school
but nothing ever happened between us we were too young. Like any teenager I
preferred hanging out with my friends than staying at home. Life was rosy for me
for I didn't know what life had in stock for me. I was a good Muslim girl and
obeyed the words of my parents to the letter. However I never imagined that my
obedience would cost me my freedom!
After our basic certificate exam, I
attended a friend's Islamic wedding. We were all so excited for her and had fun
but I also felt the tragedy of her getting married so young at the age of
seventeen. I had so many dreams and wanted to further my education but little
did I know that my friend's fate was soon to be mine.
Unknowingly to me a family had seen
me at the wedding and gone to see my father to arrange our wedding. A month
later my mum informed me of my wedding. I had no say in the matter. Although I
was the one going to live with him, my opinion didn't matter. They had agreed to
the wedding and my role was to be present. On the day scheduled my in-laws came
and did what was required of them and sent me to a different town, to a man I
didn't know and had never seen. They never considered my feelings! I was in
tears but of course they might have assumed it was tears of joy! The irony, if
only they knew!
When we got to the town, I was sent
to his room. He was no more than a child himself, for he was only a year older
than me. I lived and continue to live with him in his family house. His extended
family made me do all the house chores even cleaning up their stool! I had no
breathing space and no money because my husband was an apprentice mechanic then.
We had a very small room in his extended family house to call our own. The room
could only hold a bed, one chair and a table. I was used to living in a big
house maybe not big according to social standards but at the very least I had a
room to myself! It was big and specious!
After five years together and our
first child all my clothes became worn out I had almost nothing to wear! The
people in the community advised me to ran off and leave him. But where would I
have gone if I had left him? My family would never have accepted me back! And I
had no money to run off with. I decided then to find a job so I could earn some
money. I couldn’t get any decent job with my basic education. So, though I had
no money I decided to start a retail business. I spoke to one of our neighbours
and she agreed to help me. On that note I started selling pieces of cloth to
civil servants on credit basis. From the profit I made we had food to eat and
clothes to wear.
After over 20 years of marriage I
can't say I love him. I even forget that I have a husband when I travel. There
is nothing that attaches me to him though we now have three kids. When it comes
to our sexual life I don't know if mine is like every marriage. I won't talk
about my ordeal in the past when we first got married but, now he isn't one to
force himself on me when I say no to his advances. However a refusal means
three months or more before he makes another attempt. I've vowed never to allow
my daughters experience what I'm living through.
Now at my age I meet friends from my
childhood and I bow down my head in shame. It seems the years have been good to
them but I'm the opposite. They live in their own homes and drive their own cars
but I can't even stay at home because I don't have peace of mind! I don't have
privacy. My husband's extended family and his parents are always hovering around
me. They judge everything I do it's as though I was their property. In the early
days I had no place to cook because we had no kitchen. I had to cook even in the
rain as there was no shed or covering for my cooking place. Though now we have
two rooms I still have no privacy! I wish that I had gone to school like my
friends. I might have been living a better life now!
Her story resonates with that of many
stories told by authors. As she narrated her story abandoning herself to her sad
fate I could only comfort her and promise to share her story with you. Let's
stand against forced and child marriages. These girls have a right to live, and
love as they choose. As Najwa posits in Matar's In the Country of Men,
forced marriage is a prison sentence and the husband, the executioner!
Share and tag a friend!
Share and tag a friend!
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