From Girl to Woman at Seven

Imagine yourself to be a seven year old girl if you will.

At seven years old, the only thing on your mind is how to get Papa to give you a biscuit even though your mom has already said no, and who your next playmate is going to be. It is hardly an age where one should have to think about anything related to their sexuality nor endure physical pain and emotional pain that will last them a lifetime

Imagine that, you live in a rural village. You have been outside playing and are growing bored. You walk into your kitchen and see Mama and Grandmama discussing in the corner, all you want is to see if Mama will give you a sweet even though it is two hours before dinner. She smiles at you and tells you to come here that she has an errand for you to run.

You skip happily to her side curiously. She asks you to run to the neighbors house and get a knife for her..

You think maybe she’s cooking something for dinner and needs a special knife. Maybe it’ll be something delicious! You agree happily to go to the neighbors, the whole time on your way there you can only thing of the delicious things that might be for dinner.

The neighbor hands you a knife wrapped in a bloody, white cloth. She gives you a funny look, at seven you can barely discern what look means what, but later on you will remember her eyes filled with pity looking down upon your small, seven year old frame.

You make off for home, eager to show Mama that you were able to do what she asked of you without fail.

Upon entering into the kitchen you notice that it is no longer Grandmama and Mama, but that they have been joined by a third woman. You greet the visitor as you have been taught to and hand Mama the knife with a big smile. As you prepare to run outside again, Mama asks you to stay. You are interested to know why and stay where she asks you. You are approached by Grandmama and in an instant both her and Mama are by your side.

You are laid down on a pallet and the next moments are a blur. You remember a wad of cloth being put in your mouth and your pants being pulled down. The next thing you feel is the cold steel blade of the knife you’ve just given your Mama on your skin and the strange woman above you. Next thing you remember is pain. And blood, a lot of blood.

In that moment, at the young age of seven, you have become a victim of tradition, you have become a victim of Female Genital Mutilation.

The sad thing is that thousands of girls all over the globe are forced to go through this traumatic experience at such young, crucial and formative years of their lives. And it shapes who they will be for the rest of their lives.

Fast forward twenty years.

You have managed to go to school despite the odds against you, and have been fortunate and hard working enough to make it out of the village and are now living in a developed nation where basic healthcare is a right. As a twenty seven year old woman, you are having your first visit to the gynecologist, and are terrified. You are terrified and ashamed of what the doctors will think when they examine you. But of course they must have experience with FGM and hopefully they can counsel you in an appropriate manner and point you toward some resources that might be able to help you. I mean, it’s the 21st century and you are living in a developed country, of course they should know how to relate to victims accordingly, right?

Wrong. You lie down on the table and wait for the doctor. The doctor finally comes in after what seems like forever and begins your examination. As the doctor lifts the sheet, her eyes are filled with horror, she looks at your face and then back down again at your lower body. But she doesn’t say anything to you. She stares for what seems like forever then leaves the room. She comes back in five minutes with three other doctors. Now they are all taking a look and discussing in a language that you barely understand. All the while, you are splayed out on the table for the world to see. You are overcome with an abundance of emotions, but the one at the top of the list is humiliation. And anger, anger at your mother for making this your life, anger at your culture for taking part in a tradition that causes so much pain to women, and anger at yourself for trusting these Western doctors, you think should have known better.

No woman should ever be made to feel this way, but this is the unfortunate reality of many.

To learn more about FGM, and what you might be able to join the fight against it, click on any of the following links:

http://tostan.org/

http://orchidproject.org/

http://www.global-alliance-fgm.org/

http://www.stop-fgm-now.com/campaign