The Plaque

The day was going all right before the elders walked in and everything turned upside down. As I narrate this, I had just gone through an excruciating process. One I’m not sure I’d come out clean. If I do, you shall see me forging ahead in the world. If not, then hopefully someone finds my story, understands it and tell it to the world.
With the way evolution came about gradually, my village was still one of the most backward places in the world. And yes, such archaic traditional practices holding so much beliefs – that aren’t true by the way, were still practiced. The most excruciating of them all was the Female Genital Mutilation.
The day was filled up with laughter and joy as the children of the village were happily playing around, not knowing the danger lurking around. It was that time of the year. An annual festival for young girls as they peep into adulthood.
Unfortunately for me, that was my year and it was my turn. The knives, scissors, razor blades amongst other sacred materials were placed on the little table by the elders. I wanted to flee on seeing this, but ran right into another elder waiting by the door.
There were loud shouts by the other girls. They were cheering, they had no idea what was happening. My grandma pacified me and told me it was the ritual to make me chaste. I tried explaining to her what I had learnt about it and how this was causing more harm than good. No one listened to me and they started with the cutting.
I screamed and wept and begged and turned, but no one saw my agony, no one understood what I was going through, no one came to my rescue. I was left alone in pain and torture, left to heal by myself and be a woman as they’ve said.
I couldn’t bear the fugitive pain anymore and my bleeding wouldn’t stop. The elders thought it was a normal situation till it passed 3 days. All efforts to control the blood became abortive. Though, it was 20 years ago but I still feel the physical pain everyday as I grow older, coupled with the emotional damage it left with me.