My name is Shamima,
I want to be in school learning and drooling over ‘alewa’ like most girls my age –not with a so-called husband. Of course, at thirteen why would any girl think of a husband or want her father’s mate – probably older?
‘Alewa’ is a local Ghanaian name for candy.
I fantasize the life of Yaa Asantewaa and often that of Princess Diana, what that life would be for any teen, perhaps it wouldn’t be all flowery, rosy and lovely. Yet I continue to dream like most girls, certainly not that which includes marriage, need I tell you I don’t have that courage; I’m only thirteen. But here I am betrothed to Baba Olewami Olugote Ogboshu Babamide Chief-One and even at this young age I know he’s not the one.
What I’m most concern about is what lies between his thighs and the damage he’ll do my clitoris. And of my parents, the lies that I would be just fine with Baba Olewami Olugote Ogboshu Babamide Chief-One –his name should tell you what flies in between his thighs: picture a three-sized cucumber and think of Chief-One aka anaconda – the image in your minds-eyes is nothing compared to the nights of agonizing tears, the dreadful seconds with taunting fears of a billion souls forced into one body; it can be terrifying going to bed or waking up not feeling safe in one’s own body –you’re better off dead because you’re robbed off of peace, serenity, and the deserving calmness of your soul.
I was given off on a Sunday night to Chief-One who couldn’t wait to take my clothes off to get rough -everything that night was beyond foul amidst the dreadful thrust and horror that left me weak and almost lifeless – it was as though he hadn’t had sex in a century and burnt on, if not vexed to make the most of every cent spent or wasted; after all I was his investment, and he was the least bothered. Attendees saw it as an engagement, others called it betrothed –but I call it defilement.
Thousands of girls continue to face the ill reality of child marriage to men, who, at a tingle of their libido force their ‘prize’ to pay the price of childhood investments.
They do not have a choice, not a voice-their ‘owners’ have the mandate to rampage, rob them of their innocence, leaving most souls broken, with malice till life has less and less meaning or to live itself seems senseless –till their tortured bodies take its last agonizing breath and a final place with death.
(Some don’t live long enough to tell their stories: End CHILD MARRIAGE).
Source: Crabbe Nathaniel/ Journalist/Poet/ Pro-feminism
