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Locked away

‘Mama do you know what happened today?’ Ifeanyi said I am the most beautiful girl in the entire school’ I chatted excitedly.
‘Nne, what does a little girl like you know about talking to boys’ My mother replied.
‘Mama I’m not so little. I’ll be fifteen next week’ I said.
‘Nné, I wanted to talk to you about that. You know, when I turned fifteen, I was so excited about my coming of age ceremony. It’s an occasion when you will be celebrated as a woman. I still remember the hollandaise my mother gave to me that day. It was so special to me and I’ve worn it only on very important occasions. I even wore it during your naming ceremony. It was the talk of the town because…’
‘…because you almost died during labour. You’ve told this story a million times. Please I don’t want to talk about that.’
‘Nné to be honest, I sometimes think about myself like that hollandaise. It is the most beautiful and expensive clothing a woman owns. Yet, it is rarely worn. It is locked up in a box; save for special occasions when she wants to show off. Beautiful yet hidden, locked away, and tamed. Adorned only to soothe the pride of its owner on special occasions. But you have to understand that this is part of our culture. If you don’t do this, what will people say? They will think I did not raise you right. Nné if I could save you from this fate, I would. But I’m doing this out of love. I don’t want you to become an outcast’. She said with determination in her eyes. I could tell that her mind was made up.
I think back now and I wonder how many mothers had to lie to their daughters. I think about mothers who told their daughters that it was ‘normal’. That they would be just ‘fine’.
I think about women like me that feel locked away like that hollandaise. Their worth, albeit intrinsic, is determined by their ‘owners’. The society and obligations to which they feel bound. I wonder if they ever stood a chance. Did they ever have a voice? Did they know what fate they resigned to?
I still remember that day. The day I became like that hollandaise; locked away, tamed. The day I betrayed myself. The day I lost my voice.

29 Responses

  5. Your voice is needed, my voice is needed, everybody’s voice is needed. We can put an end to this bizarre culture when we all lend our voices. Do your part now by lending your voice.

  7. Compendious!!
    This masterpiece highlights the deep seated scars left unwittingly on the vulnerable generation by misinformed parents & the hard-driven unlearned society… Great story, Excellent style!!

  26. I like how your story portrays the suppression of voices, as passed from one generation to another, in the face of terrible cultural rites. Well done

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