Jamila's story

I was just thirteen at that time, my lady monthly sickness had only started two months before. I remember screaming when I saw the blood on my underwear. My mother had run from the kitchen to know why I screamed and surprisingly, she started to weep uncontrollably on seeing me. I was shocked, I just stood there looking at her in utmost confusion. But admist my confusion, I remembered Elizabeth had told me in school how happy her mother was when she finally *became a woman*. I was happy to become a woman, I was happy that I would finally be classified amongst the *big girls* in school, I only screamed because I was wearing that pant for the first time since Inna (mother) had bought it, it was pure white with no sin at atall, mum was supposed to be happy, why exactly is she crying. After about 60 seconds of uncontrollable confusing tears, my mum whispered to me that I should never ever let my father know about it. I got scared, was I sick? Isn't this normal female menstruation?. "Inna," I said, with fear in my voice and expression, "am I ok? Is this not menstru" " shhuuush" she cut me off putting her hands across her own mouth instead of mine, " I said don't let your father know, a fami? (you understand)" "Mi fami" I responded even tho I didn't understand a thing.


We were able to keep *it* a secret from my father for two months. Of course he was going to find out someday, it was completely not my fault. We lived In a one bedroom apartment, I slept in the sitting room with my three younger brothers at night while Inna and Baaba slept in the bedroom. The bedroom was barely able to accept one person even if it were to be a person with little properties, but we all had to manage and mum kept the house as organised as the house could accept. We had no wardrobe or bags, our clothes were stored in baskets. Inna was a professional in baskets making, that was how we survived. Baaba on the other hand was very good at satisfying his alcohol urges at Inna Ahmed's local bar and piling the bills for my Inna to pay. Although my father was almost as useless as useless could be, Inna always hit me whenever I raised my voice at him for coming home drunk late at night, and stepping on me as he tries to enter to bedroom. Whenever he was sober, he would unleash his frustration on even the baskets, and finally result to going back to the bar for some more drinks, this was all he was good at. The only good thing I remember about my dad was that no matter how frustrated he got, he was never rude to either I or Inna, at least not until that day, until that faithful day. That's why he had always let out his frustration on animals and objects. Baaba believed that women were made to be cared for ,thats why he always got frustrated that in our family, it had to be the other way round, Inna was the pillar of our home, so he felt useless and finally decided to act useless.