I've gone from trying to figure out what feminism is really about to understanding the term and agreeing with it from afar. I no sooner learned that it was impossible for me to agree with but not identify with the term. As a result of all the bad energy surrounding the term and fear of not being misunderstood by people, I thought that identifying with it within myself was enough. I said to myself ‘I know I am a feminist and that is all that matters'. If people asked me I'd say I'm still deciding and sieving through because of the extremists. I got encouraged when I realized that some of my friends were feminists too so I was able to reveal my hidden status as a feminist to them but not to the world in general. The moment of truth for me was sitting in a room with people ‘shading' feminists and spitting out untruths about feminism for me to realize that I was either standing for something or not standing for it at all. I was riled up inside of me and I didn't even realize when I announced that I was actually a feminist and a proud one at that. As expected the usual argument associated around feminism ensued and I remained firm in my belief and stance as a feminist despite the fact that I was the only feminist in the room. It was a very liberating moment for me as I had finally released myself from the self-inflicted bondage. I am an unapologetic feminist. Anyone who cannot murder their ignorance by birthing the urgency to educate themselves about any relevant topic or issue before speaking about it is not even worthy of my association. Before I drop the mic, I want to add that anyone who knows what feminism stands for and still stands firmly against it should just move away from my view. We should all be feminists.

What could I do? My mum loved him. The way she looked at him, spoke to him and acted around him, told me that much; she adored him. She'd do anything for him. I wanted her to be happy. My heart and head rarely ever agreed on the same thing but even at that moment when my heart and head were screaming at me to say no, to tell her to wait, to tell her that he was not right for her, I smiled and said ‘go on mum, you can get married. He'll make you happy'. She was so excited. She hugged me and screamed with joy. She had tears running down her cheeks as she said ‘thank you. I love you'. Even as I sit here, with my head throbbing and my clothes torn, my body defiled, in pain and with tears; not of joy, running down my cheeks, I'm not sure I would have told my mother no if I had a chance to relive that day again. I'll give anything and do anything to make my mother happy. I knew I decided my fate the moment I let my mother marry this beast of a man. I knew he wasn't who he claimed to be but my mother didn't see that and I was too much of a coward to try to make her see. It would tear and break her heart. She had come to see him as her knight in shining armour. I couldn't take that from her. I told myself it was my fault. I walked around in shorts. I tempted him. He wouldn't have touched me. He wouldn't have raped me. If only I didn't tempt him. I was thirteen years old. I was not a virgin anymore. My innocence had been forcefully taken from me. Forcefully taken, by the one man my mother loved. Forcefully taken, by the one man my mother thought was the best thing that happened to her. I would lay in my bed crying every night after Monty slipped into my room and did despicable things to me. He always threatened me after. He said I was never to tell my mother. If I did, he would kill her. I couldn't let him kill her, she was all I had. My father left, he didn't want me. She could have left me but she stayed. Her parents disowned her, I was a result of a mistake, I was unwanted. But she stayed. She kept me. I love her so much. I couldn't let him kill her, so I shut up. I didn't know who to turn to. It was becoming too much. He was making me do things I didn't want to do. It's been two years. Two years in hell. Monty was making life unbearable for me and my mother didn't see it. I couldn't tell her because I felt Monty would kill her, he said he would kill her, he swore it, I knew he meant it. I didn't have any friends. My classmates thought I was weird. I didn't know who to talk to. I was dying inside and I needed help. Who could help me? No one seemed to hear my silent cry. No one seemed interested in my life. Except my mum that is, but I couldn't tell my mum, how could I escape this? Sometimes he brought his friends over when mother traveled for work. Whenever they came it was always worse. They always took turns with me. This was one of the numerous times he had his friends use me and I was certain it was going to be the last. My grandparents were right. Mother should have gotten rid of me from the start. Mother was still out of the state on a business trip and Monty and his friends went out to get drunk. It was the perfect time. I go out, take a rope, climb a chair, tie the rope to the fan and put it around my neck. I kick away the chair underneath me. The pain is indescribable. I struggle. I can't breathe. I feel the life seeping out of me, then – darkness.