This post is for the ladies who have had to be hospitable to their nasty aunt with the cherry red lipstick. She visits once a month, twelve months a year for at least forty-five years of your life. Sometimes her visits are an unexpected surprise and sometimes you long for her to appear at your door. Most of the time, you wish she wasn’t related to you.
Gentlemen. There are some things in life that you will simply never understand (or feel, for that matter). But wait, before you run off in intolerant anger, be patient and read on.
Periods.
Bloody, painful and sticky periods.
Having said that, I’m sure the gentlemen are intrigued and eager to read on. Some in an attempt to identify with their feminine side, some out of curiosity, and a few who just wish they had ovaries and a colorful variety of pads and tampons to choose from. It really doesn’t matter what your agenda is, as long as I get the painful message across to each and every one of you (ladies included).
Don’t worry, I won’t delve into too much detail about the first time I had to throw away my favorite pair of Victoria’s Secret underwear. I just want to talk about the emotions that were flowing through me on that special day (no pun intended, I swear). I remember running to my stepmother in a fury of mixed emotions. I was always told that I would become a woman one day, but I was never told how messy it could get.
“Mama, Mama, I’m bleeding!”
She scanned my body looking for my frequent nosebleed or a bloody scrape from my rough play in the garden. Embarrassed and discomfited, I pointed to my tight fitting denims. She grinned in comprehension and walked over to her bedroom, returning a few minutes later with a cheaply wrapped gift. I tore the pastel green wrap into bits, unfolding the cotton-like fabric within. My family rejoiced my passage into womanhood in elegant silence.
That is a pretty emblematic reflection on a teenager’s first glimpse of blood, don’t you think? Not so much for a young girl named Zoala.
When Zoala’s best friend pointed out the bloodstain on the back of her raggedy and faded brown pants, they both became tense and exchanged a gaze of anguish and despair. They had witnessed their friend Natek’s passage into womanhood and the wealth that it had brought to her family, but the handful of silver shillings didn’t seem to be worth the excruciating pain.
“Don’t tell anyone, Lamok. If you don’t tell, I won’t tell.”
Lamok pondered the thought for a long minute and then nodded her head in agreement as she whispered a comforting promise in Zoala’s ear. They exchanged their secret handshake and walked back to their village hand in hand.
Their playful bickering and childlike giggles were interrupted by Natek’s stern gaze.
She was standing outside of her mud hut, with her arms on her hips, looking to start trouble. Ever since she married the old man who sells the rotten mangoes, she had begun to rot as well. She dropped out of school and started to resent all the girls in the blue and white checkered uniforms. It was obvious that Natek was miserable and probably still in pain from the circumcision.
“Is that blood I see?” asked Natek, as she wiggled her index finger from side to side.
“No, I tripped on a rock on my way back from school,” said Zoala, impressed with her swift response.
Natek bent over to take a closer look, hoping to transport the pain below her waist onto the two innocent little girls standing before her. Zoala and Natek quickly shuffled their bare feet across the mocha colored sand, looking for a place to hide. They sat under the village’s acacia tree, holding hands and breaths, waiting for the ripe days of their childhood freedom to come to an end.
Aren’t you glad that your first experience – as horrific as it may have seemed at the time – doesn’t even compare to the fear and pain that these little girls in Africa must feel?
Genital mutilation, more commonly known as female circumcision, is a problem that still persists in many African nations (Sudan, Kenya, etc.). Village girls are taught that circumcision will make them feel grown up and their bride price will help the family alleviate some of their poverty. Female circumcision is also thought to prepare girls for responsible and happy marital lives.
There are alternatives and solutions to this issue. First and foremost, we must work together to educate the young and give them the power to say “no”. When educated, girls can withstand the taunting and the pressure from family, friends and schoolmates. Female circumcision is not a subject that people discuss openly, but when the facts are brought to the people’s attention, a public debate can take place, putting the girls in a position that allows them to make their own choice.
It’s the 21st century, people! This should not still be happening. Educate your mind and the minds of people you know. If you want to take it a step further, here are a few organizations you can get involved with:
World Health Organization
World Organization for Human Rights
If you come across any other good sources, please share them with me!
Project Kenya 2011 