VICTIM

This might sound really strange, awkward, uncalled for,even insane, but is entirely truth; nothing but the truth.

I am a VICTIM. Indeed, a victim of burning hate, prolonged depression, ridicule, segregation, anxiety disorders, mental and emotional trauma too. I feel like no one understands me and worse yet, that no one ever will.

I am discriminated against on the basis of my religion, gender, psychological and physical strengths and weaknesses. My educational strides, career, goals and choices are a major confluence town for haters too. So-called friends, workmates,school mates and acquaintances through their thoughtless words and actions have engraved so beautifully on me, ghastly marrow-deep emotional scars, the kind that just have not cannot and might never heal.

There are these moments that I am so overwhelmed by the large stack of pain resting on my fragile shoulders. As of habit, I struggle hard to conceal my feelings of worthlessness, put better still, an admixture of inferiority complex and shame. But at other times, I lose everything all – I mean my guts and WITS. Whenever I try to be sociable, smile and mingle, I always get the line – “you’re becoming too social, in short wild.” And on those days I make conscious effort to curtail this easy-going attitude of mine, I am labelled a proud child, lacking humility, an immature sadist.

I dislike living my life as a replica of someone else so I do things I love – makeup, style my hair, do my nails, try to look good and all but here’s the hot part, I am made to feel like a whore; like there is some boy out there who is going to pass me by when it is time for marriage, I am made to see myself as a fool who is tossed about by all she sees and hears, anything that trends. I am confused as I am constantly compared to the extent that I have lost sight of who I really am within and the woman I want to be.

Often I seek to explain the state of things or the reason for either an action or reaction of mine but I am yelled at or struck in the face for being frontal or overly expressive. I am taught that the woman must always be submissive and must never fight against the oppressive clutches of patrilineal society. On a few occasions, I’ve been told, ” if you feel that this house is too restrictive for you, pack up your things and leave to wherever you feel is best for you!”

I swear to the God who made me that I am at such a heart shredding point in my life where I could make attempts on my life. I could just take a last breath and humbly bow out of all these storms, sorrow and regret associated with defining one’s self and growing up.

I wonder if and when I will ever get past this phase. Thus, with the dawn of each new day up until midnight night, my little palms clasped together close to my chest, I pray as each second ticks – FATHER LORD, HELP ME, PLEASE DON’T LET THE LAST LIGHTNING BUG INSIDE ME DIE, GUIDE YOUR LITTLE GIRL CHILD TO ACHIEVE ALL HER DREAMS!

Published by rachaeleke

Lover of French culture, avid legal reader, fashion lover, writer...

2 thoughts on “VICTIM

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