With a fork covered in both of my hands and wrapped under my blouse, I rushed out of the house and headed for an uncompleted and abandoned building not too far from our house to kill myself, until two boys came to rescue me and took words to our house. Do you want to read my story? I am here on World Pulse to find my voice, regain my confidence, find support and build my voice to be strong enough to face the world as I get ready to start a campaign to eliminate suicide amongst youths in my community.
On August 3rd, this year, I will be 17 years old. I live with my mum (actually she is my aunt but I call her my mum because I live with her and she treats me like a daughter). I am well taken care of. I am loved. I don't know if I am too young to have attempted suicide just after my 16th birthday last year, but I did it anyway and fortunately I did not die. I did not die because two boys found me and took me to safety. I never knew I was going to share my story, but something made me picked up the courage to take the commitment to save other young people. I felt like I should start here because growing up, I have heard my mum talk a thousand good things about World Pulse and I felt like this was the right place for me to start. She told me about the good and bad of the internet but above all, she told me to never be afraid to use my voice if I ever find it. I begged my uncle in the US to buy me a phone so that I can start a campaign against suicide and he did. I am glad I am here. Read on...
Last week, Netflix was airing two Cameroonian movies for the first time. My mum subscribed to Netflix because of those movies and then after she had watched one of the movies, titled THE FISHERMAN'S DIARY, she called all of us in the house to watch because the story line is a very strong one -- it is a story of a young 12 year old girl whose community and father hated education but because of her love for education, and a strong belief in her role model Malala, her father decided to give her out for marriage at the age of 12. Even though she pleaded and made a promise with her dad that she would never visited the village teacher again nor talk about going to school, just so her dad shouldn't give her out for marriage, her dad was still convinced by his brother to marry her out. With numerous episodes of rape and flashes of wanting to go to school, she decided to run away from her husband's house to commit suicide but as fate would have it, she did not do it. She won a scholarship to study abroad and she came back to her community to create a change for young girls. Now, that movie, especially the part where the 12 year old survived suicide, inspired me and I honestly think I cannot be silent any more. I want to talk because I know that talking is not only healing, it is a lot more. It is change. And change is progress.
My mum had me at a very tender age of about 16 -- funny enough how I wanted to take my life at the age of 16. I have never really known my dad, but I have seen him once. He doesn't look for me. The first and last time I saw him, it was my mum who took me to see him. I have lived all my life with my grand mum, and now my aunt who took me at the age of 11. I am ashamed of what I want to write, but I have to write it down because my heart tells me to write and I also believe my big sisters and mothers here will help and encourage me. From the age of about 14, I started feeling a sense of rejection, from my dad, because I did not know for what reason my dad would abandon me. I kept carrying the feeling of sadness, anger, evil thoughts and hence the urge to take my life. For any little mistake I make and my mum tries to correct me, I only thought of killing myself. I cannot explain how these feelings came but the only thing I ever thought of when I was angry or when my mum or anyone in the house tried to correct me, was the thought of taking my life. This feeling was so strong that I tried cutting my vein once in the kitchen, at the age of 15, because my mum said the pancakes I made were not good. Those are the kind of little things that made me think of killing myself. On another occasion, I actually drank loads of vinegar because I mum scolded me for a wrong doing. This is so sad.
Then, a few months before I turned 16, I started having feelings for a university graduate boy around our compound. I think adolescence was playing a fast one on me but honestly, the feelings were so strong that I decided to confront the boy and tell him about my feelings through text messages. I would stay up very late at night texting this boy and he kept advising me to focus on my education and be a good girl. Many times, this boy advised me to stop texting me and be a good girl, but the adolescence in me couldn't stop. At a point he told me if I don't stop, he will tell my mum but I did not believe him. So about one week after my 16th birthday, the boy showed all my messages to my other aunt, who is younger than my mum (my aunt) and that is when all hell broke lose.
My aunt called me into the room and was trying to scold me about my actions and sadly my mum was passing through the room door and she caught the discussion. She asked for explanation and my aunt told her. My mum was so disappointed in me. She shouted at me and even cried. She asked me why I kept trying to woo men (because that was the 2nd incident). My grand mum too was around. So my mum, grand mum and my aunts, after all the scolding, advised me to desist from all such behavior and face my studies. But sadly, that was supposed to be my last day on earth, in my heart. I just could not take any form of correction lightly.
Immediately after the talking, my heart pumped so fast. I asked myself how I am rejected by my father, and then by a boy I felt I love. That strong feeling of rejection and being a failure, coupled with the fact that I felt strongly that I had disappointed my mum and everyone in the house, I gently walked out of the room, into the kitchen where I picked a fork and rushed out, without anyone seeing me, to the uncompleted and abandoned building where I was ready to stab myself. No one noticed I had left the house as everyone was busy in their rooms that early morning, tidying. Just when I was saying my last prayer, some two boys who saw me rushed into that building appeared and rescued me.
[Because I am crying too much, right now, I will end my story here and continue in my next write-up. This is such a difficult moment for me. Thank you all for reading up to this point].
TO BE CONTINUED!