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let come together and fight against domestic violence against women.
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I regained consciousness. I had hit my head hard, or had someone hit me? Then I realised I was holding a bloody knife in my hand. How the bloody knife got into my hands, I had no idea. The last thing I ever remembered was when we started quarrelling about something we should have not. I have been going through this silently for sometime now, I could not bear the pains any longer and may be I acted on self defense.
The love, attention and the support I once had when we were dating is directly opposite to the experiences I am going through in our marriage. Hardly do a day go by without been beaten up, my entire body has become his talking drum. Our joyful moment are when he is busy pounding me like the Ghanaian cassava in a mortar that is been hit hard by the pistil. I have to endure and turn the pain I am going through into joy just to make him happy. As if that is not enough days that I don't feel like it, are those that I get beat up and raped over and over again.
Even though we live in a democratic world, my own life is full of restrictions. Every step I take is being monitored by people I have no idea of, my situation become worse if I am seen talking to a male person. He has no interest in the content of what the conversation is about, the only people I should be seen talking to is his own female friends who act as his whistle blowers. I live an isolated life engulfed in loneliness, having to live like an outcast from the normal way of living and this is killing me very quickly. A way of life that does not permit me to express myself freely, my opinions are never welcome. I am like a prisoner in my own husband's house. The outmoded Ghanaian cultural concept that seek to say that "the place for a woman is in the kitchen" has sink deep into the head of the Tarrant I call a husband that he grossly disrespect me day in day out. My true friends have distance themselves from me inorder not to create problem for me.
Starvation becomes my portion anytime we have the slightest of argument. l have to depend on true friends who risk their life to find a way of getting into my apartment unnoticed to support with food items and that is what I rely on until he calms down.
I remembered on that faithful day, I came back from the market only to find my husband in bed with another woman, I could not contain my emotional pain any longer as I confronted him angrily. The two dirty slaps I took from him was enough to back me off, as l bastard into a loud cry. He was still not satisfied as he followed up with kick into my rips that almost altered my normal breathing process. I was in too much pain I quickly had to reach out for a knife at sight to defend my life.
I remembered I screamed warning him to back off, as to whether he hit me or I hit my head in anything as an attempt to run away from the beatings I was receiving or how I ended up stabbing him and how his girlfriend got away is a mistry.
I am not alone, so many women go through this unfortunate circumstances almost every day with no help or support. who is speaking for the voiceless? Is high time we find a way to end domestic violence against women across the world. Women also deserve the right to live freely like any other human being.
© the Silky Search engine
I regained consciousness. I had hit my head hard, or had someone hit me? Then I realised I was holding a bloody knife in my hand. How the bloody knife got into my hands, I had no idea. The last thing I ever remembered was when we started quarrelling about something we should have not. I have been going through this silently for sometime now, I could not bear the pains any longer and may be I acted on self defense.
The love, attention and the support I once had when we were dating is directly opposite to the experiences I am going through in our marriage. Hardly do a day go by without been beaten up, my entire body has become his talking drum. Our joyful moment are when he is busy pounding me like the Ghanaian cassava in a mortar that is been hit hard by the pistil. I have to endure and turn the pain I am going through into joy just to make him happy. As if that is not enough days that I don't feel like it, are those that I get beat up and raped over and over again.
Even though we live in a democratic world, my own life is full of restrictions. Every step I take is being monitored by people I have no idea of, my situation become worse if I am seen talking to a male person. He has no interest in the content of what the conversation is about, the only people I should be seen talking to is his own female friends who act as his whistle blowers. I live an isolated life engulfed in loneliness, having to live like an outcast from the normal way of living and this is killing me very quickly. A way of life that does not permit me to express myself freely, my opinions are never welcome. I am like a prisoner in my own husband's house. The outmoded Ghanaian cultural concept that seek to say that "the place for a woman is in the kitchen" has sink deep into the head of the Tarrant I call a husband that he grossly disrespect me day in day out. My true friends have distance themselves from me inorder not to create problem for me.
Starvation becomes my portion anytime we have the slightest of argument. l have to depend on true friends who risk their life to find a way of getting into my apartment unnoticed to support with food items and that is what I rely on until he calms down.
I remembered on that faithful day, I came back from the market only to find my husband in bed with another woman, I could not contain my emotional pain any longer as I confronted him angrily. The two dirty slaps I took from him was enough to back me off, as l bastard into a loud cry. He was still not satisfied as he followed up with kick into my rips that almost altered my normal breathing process. I was in too much pain I quickly had to reach out for a knife at sight to defend my life.
I remembered I screamed warning him to back off, as to whether he hit me or I hit my head in anything as an attempt to run away from the beatings I was receiving or how I ended up stabbing him and how his girlfriend got away is a mistry.
I am not alone, so many women go through this unfortunate circumstances almost every day with no help or support. who is speaking for the voiceless? Is high time we find a way to end domestic violence against women across the world. Women also deserve the right to live freely like any other human being.
© the Silky Search engine
