She Was Just A Child; She Didn't Get A Chance To Choose

I think what happened affected me because at that age I could not make friends and always kept to myself but I was an outstanding student so my teachers loved me and gave me extra attention. I had a calm demeanor but constantly fought the boys in my class especially when they expressed interest or likeness in me. I guess I was calm but passive-aggressive. At home, I used to hide my blood-stained clothes under the bed whenever I menstruated because I could not stand the sight of blood. Mother would constantly beat me and call me all sorts of names to an extent of telling me she regretted giving birth to me so I ran away from home when I was 11 but my uncle saw me and brought me back home. At 13, we moved into our new house, mummy and daddy began traveling a lot so a family friend would come and babysit us till they return. he soon began abusing me and warned me not to tell anyone or else he would kill me. He vowed to impregnate me before I enter high school. I was terrified and confided in one of my pastors, I begged him not to tell my parents but he felt it was the right thing to do so he told them and they had the man arrested. I was given a heavy beating and called “a bad girl”. The days that followed were hell for me and I was accused of sleeping with every man who came to the house this made me develop some hatred for me. 

My father called me one day and told me that he has noticed my academic performance has gone down since I started following boys. Misskorang believe me that was a lie and it broke me so I decided to end my life. The next day at school, our school principal called me to her office and told me she is proud of me and if I continue at that pace, I would make the school proud. I asked a friend how she would feel if she heard that I was dead, she told me she would weep her eyes out and not make friends with anyone else. That got to me because I didn’t want to see my friend hurting.

I finally wrote my BECE and had to stay home for some months waiting for the results and was enrolled in a pre-SHS class, an uncle brought fake results home stating that was what I scored, and trust me I knew it wasn’t mine because the grade was lower than the person who scored the lowest in my school. I tried to explain but I received a big slap that made me lose consciousness for some seconds. I finally found my bearing and sat on the floor then the beatings continued which were accompanied by very hurtful words which still play in my mind. My mother told me she sent me to school to go and learn but I went to learn how to have sex with boys. Misskorang tell me…what did a 5 years old girl know about sex? or even a 13 years old girl know about sex? I left for class that day and vowed that I was never returning home, fortunately, my little brother came from school and told my parents I had 8 Ones. Mother came to inform me in class but never apologized for the things she said or the beatings she gave me. I came home that day because my little brother was proud of me and I did not want to break his heart.

God being so good, I gained admission to one of the best schools in Ghana, I was happy because I had to leave home but then it was too late, I had already developed severe anxiety disorders and I was depressed. My housemistress was a counselor and tried to get me to open up to her but I did not trust anybody, I was constantly in and out of the hospital but I survived. I forgot to state that since my first sexual encounter began bedwetting and it only stopped when I completed SHS and had to receive beatings every morning while at home.

I developed an aversion for men and wanted to attend an all-girls university but that didn’t seem possible in Ghana. In my first semester in the university, I joined a church on campus and was trying to be committed to the church, mind you the only place I felt happy was church and school. I was scheduled to do a visitation with our pastor one evening where he tried to rape (I hate this word) me. I was so terrified that I passed out as soon as I got to my room. that was the last day I attended the church. That wasn’t my last experience with abuse especially when it came to church guys. I was gradually losing my faith. In one of the instances, I bled for a month and had to save money to go to the hospital without letting anybody know, I was referred to Korle Bu but could not afford it so I never went back. I did not get a good class in the University.

I am almost 40 years now and I”m neither married nor dating. I struggle to form meaningful relationships and I’m afraid of intimacy or getting close to people. Sex scares me a lot and I can’t be in a room alone with a man, I immediately start sweating and panicking. My dad is late and my mother is unable to talk to me about getting married even though all my siblings including my little brother are married except me. I have been suicidal lots of times and still struggle with suicidal ideations. I want to get married one day but I don’t think I would be a good wife or mother. I wish to completely heal one day but I do not know when and how. I have gone into therapy lots of times but it hasn’t been very fruitful. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder last year.

I will tell the rest of my story someday because it is too long.

Ama (Ghana)

Editor’s Note

Apart from the heading and the name in this story, I did not do not one edit. I wanted to leave the story as is, raw and full of the owner’s pain and emotion. I decided not to dress it up with grammar. Just so you, my dear reader can see the impact emotional neglect can have on children, from the perspective of a survivor.

Pay attention to your children. Pay attention to their mental and emotional health. Better your child trusts you than fear you.

This is not okay. We have to do better!