Stand up to gender violence before it is too late

I grew up in a polygamous family, my mother being the eldest wife with six children and my stepmother with eleven. I am the third born in the family.  We shared the same compound but had separate houses.  Life was not easy for us sharing the same yard because we were a big family and many bad things happened because of the jealousy between the two families.

 

My father, a troublesome person was not working; he would wake up early in the morning and go to the nearest shebeen, drink alcohol and when he got home he would pick a fight. This would happen every day.

 

He would say the food is half cooked and send my mother to go and re-cook it.  He would kick her or slap and hit her with a knobkerrie on the head. Her face was full of blisters and scars. When the scars were close to healing, he would beat her up again. The same thing would happen to my stepmother.

 

Fortunately for me, my uncles from my mother’s family took me to stay with them when I was six-years-old. With their support, I managed to finish my O’ Level. My stepmother would go to her parental home since it was not far from our home. The abuse became daily bread in my father’s home and it made us really sad. 

 

At times, it would happen even during broad daylight and one day my mother’s arm was broken because of the abuse. You could see my mother’s body was full of scars. Her face was ruined. She once had a bright complexion, but that was no more. Her head was full of marks from the knobkerrie.

 

No matter how hard the situation was, my mother would never give up on her husband. The elders would call occasional meetings to discuss this, but they were of no help at all even if they got around to addressing the concerns. My mother did finally decide to report to her brothers who advised her to report to the police.

 

She would agree but on their way there, she would start telling them, “NO! I cannot press charges against the father of my child.” My uncles also failed to convince her. Even when she was very hurt and went to the hospital, there was nothing much they could do because she refused to reveal the real cause of her injuries, even when it was obvious.

 

A few months after one of these incidents, she died. My father started to feel sorry but it was too late. I just wonder, if my mother was treated in a good way would have she had died so young? My father is alive and enjoying life.  So please if you are abused don’t keep it in; fix it before it is too late. Tell someone the truth.