From abused wife to girls’ rights fighter
I have had the opportunity to meet many special people in my life. People who have had painful experiences have used them as a powerful instrument to protect others from being abused. Today, I will tell you the story of a young lady I met recently in Niger who was a victim of forced marriage.
For security reasons, I won’t use her name. This story is a narrative of what she told me.
Here is her story:
In 2021, while I was in exam class (Baccalaureate), my aunt agreed to give me to a man I didn’t know because, in our family, she’s the one who decides, under the pretext that my parents don’t have the means to cover my university fees, so if I marry the guy, he will be able to take care of it. During all this time, I, the main person concerned, did not even know about it until the day the dowry came.
That same night, I got the guy’s number and texted to tell him that I did not love him, I was not ready to get married, I did not want to marry a stranger because of the negative outcome it might produce, and I could not see myself doing all those things with someone I did not love. He took my messages and showed them to my aunt. My aunt told him I was being silly, and to not worry about it. They carried on the wedding preparations.
I did everything I could to convince my parents, but nothing. They told me it was the right option to get married and they would never make a decision that would harm me. The wedding happened on a Saturday in August while I was menstruating, so nothing could in the night. In the meantime, I thought the guy was waiting for my menstruation to end, which was a mistake. He was waiting for my friends to leave because, in my culture, the first few days after the wedding, the bride’s friends go to her house to help her mentally.
On Friday, five days after the wedding, my friends left. He asked me at night if I had finished (menstruating). I told him no; there were still two days to go. He said he could not wait. He had paid his money to have me, so he could not wait. That day, he raped me. I was in a lot of pain, and it was atrocious.
The next day, I called my mom to complain. She said it was normal. It was the first time, and I complained because I did not love him. After that, I kept silent. Since then, I got raped by this man every day. Every time I felt pain due to infections. I was objectified; I was just his wife for decoration and his needs. I had no one to talk to because no one understood what I was going through. Everyone thought I wanted to find him a flaw.
One day, I told myself that if I got married, it must have been for a reason. Every day I prayed to feel even a little attraction for him.
But despite all my prayers, nothing changed. All I felt was disgust. I could not even live with him anymore. One day, while he was taking a shower, his friend called him. I picked up the phone to tell him he was in the shower, so when he hung up. In his messages, I overheard a message between him and his friend. His friend said that his wife(myself) was misbehaving and proposed to him to go to the ‘marabout’ who worked previously on my parents’ matter. I was not even surprised because it was evident that there was something fishy behind this story.
A week later, I was at my parents’ house because I wanted to end this relationship. I thought my parents would support me, so I asked them to call him to come over. When he came, I first showed him the photos of all the times he had hurt and raped me, followed by the recording. As expected, my parents did not believe me. They said I had edited the photos and that they were not authentic. They told me to go back with him.
At that point, I said stop. I could not take it anymore. I told them it was either I go with him and kill myself or I stay away from him. They said no, I must go with him, and must think about their reputation. I was devastated, and I felt that my life was worthless. I took my bag and left the house for five days.
One day, my dad called me to tell me that he wasn’t feeling well and that I should come back because if he died, I would have his death on my conscience. So, I returned to my parent’s home, thinking they would force me to go back, but before returning, I informed the police and was prepared to press charges if they tried anything. However, they didn’t do anything to me and accepted my decision. Then I DIVORCED
In the meantime, I received a scholarship and went to boarding school. I was disoriented and didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. All I knew was that I wanted to escape somewhere people didn’t know me.
After five months, when I had started to regain confidence, I learned I was six months pregnant. While I was at boarding school, I was still having my periods, but I didn’t pay much attention to it; I thought it was just an infection. I spoke to our nurse about it, and she scheduled an appointment with a gynecologist. After the tests, he wanted to do an ultrasound, and to my surprise, he told me that I was pregnant. I was shocked; how could I be six months pregnant without any pregnancy symptoms? My belly was flat; I couldn’t believe it. I went back home, but I avoided the nurse because I didn’t know what to say to her.
She noticed that I was avoiding her and came to find me in my room. I had to tell her what the gynecologist had said. After that, she took me to another clinic, and they confirmed that I was six months pregnant. I was wondering why I didn’t have the right to happiness, why this was happening to me. I wanted to end the pregnancy; I didn’t want anything from him, but it was too late.
I fell into depression, and my life turned into chaos. Even today, this story troubles me; I can’t sleep. It has been two years, and I still have nightmares.
This was her story, and in response to this problem faced by young girls in her community, she is taking action by establishing an organization that will empower victims and provide emotional support to them.
