Freedom fighter

Few years back my people had a quote;

“Kids and women,

To the kitchen”

That greatly annoyed me as a child. And later, that made me sick as woman. I fight for myself and want to show every man that I’m able to do anything and I was very much important to my community, my country and my world.

People believed that kids and women are useless. The men are the only important persons to represent families, sub cities and regions. Even if we had such a powerful queens like Tayitu and Zewditu, they always embarrass the women and girl child.

I think of myself when I was in grade one, walking bare foot with my older brother. He’s two and half years older than me. He was in class six. I started school on 18th of December that year, but in June I scored high and I was on top of the class. In July, when all my classmates rest in their house for the rainy season, my dad sent us to a summer school (Winter school in my country). I remember a day, when we went for lunch a heavy rain poured. My brother and I had no school bag, we carry our books, pen and pencils in hand. My brother advised me to hide my books inside my sweater. It was a dark purple sweater with yellow stripes. I put on a dress which mama hand stitched it for me. It was light brown cotton dress with small white flowers. That was the only outfit I had when I was grade one. I don’t remember what I used to wear when she washed it. I cover my books under my sweater and hold them tight on my little chest. The rain covered my eyes and I kept wiping my face. The road was empty and there was no shade to stand until the rain stopped. When we reached home, my Mom pitied us. She gave us kisses and wiped our heads with her own dress.

“Oh my little children!” Then she asked me where my books are. I removed the books from under the sweater. The pen, pencils and the three books are gone with the flood. Only two books were remained.

My Mom started laughing. “Didn’t you see them when they drop and touched your feet?” Asked my Mom. For my own surprise, I didn’t feel anything. There was ice, the rain drop picked the sand and kicked at my feet, I was busy wiping the water from my face and had no feeling for the books. May be they dropped when I wiped the water from my eyes. When I was in class five, I was walking from school to our house in some new road. It was my sister who picked me that day. We found a canvas shoe which is a little bit smaller than my size. We carried it home. The shoe was thrown from some rich people’s house near the garbage. In the following day I wore it and went to school. All my classmates shouts; “Oh, she has a shoe!” I was so shy for few days. Later that month my father bought me a green plastic shoe with a flower from the front. That year, I was bought a yarn and crochet by Mom and taught me how to make a top for myself. My Dad bought some cotton fabric and Mom cut it for my size and showed me how to stitch like a machine. Since that day, I’m making my dresses, my sisters’ and my Mom’s dresses. She used to pay me 10 birr (0.40$) each for making the dresses. I was happy by then. I see today, she was exploiting me. Lol!

I was eight years old by then. She taught me how to read and write, including basic math. I finish the lessons from grade 1-4 in one year and eight months. When my friends of grade one was going to grade three, I was in grade five. I was the smallest of the students in body and younger in age but the cleverest girl in the class.

When I went to grade seven, the eldest sister, who is the first born of my parent’s took me to stay with her. I was madly in love with my sister. I prayed to go and live with her. She’s 13 years older than me approximately. She used to give bath for me and for my two brothers when felt like doing it. One’s older than me and the other is younger. The three of us had much fun as a child. When my older brother came from school, he used to sing for us many children songs. My younger brother and I were not in school by then. We used to sit under my parent’s bed and sang loudly until our throat hurt. We were crazy trios. Every Sunday, the elder sister used to give us bath and robbed us with the Ethiopian hand woven cotton scarves and made us sit on her bed like three dolls. If she brought us that Sunday morning to church, she didn’t allow us to play. She liked screaming at us, beating any of her younger siblings. I was afraid of her. But my older brother was not. She was very mean to all of us most of the time. She made me a beautiful sweater from some leftover yarns. Since I moved to her house which is very far from my parent’s house she started mistreating me. She insulted me, beat me and called me names every day. Because I didn’t want to forget a single thing she did to me, I picked one of my old books and wrote a diary. I hid it in a place she never reached in the house. I was very shocked and confused to see my sister I craved to be with her turned out to be a monster. Anything she did in the house with her friends was displeasing me. I cried most of the days when I was with her. I was full of fear, I wanted to go and stay with my parents. She made me always to be late at school. I had to run like Bolt every day, only not to be beaten by the guards of the school for being late. One day she saw me flying over the road, she called my name. I turned back to meet her.

“Why are you running like this?” she asked.

“I’m late, I don’t want to be beaten by the guards.” I replied.

“What if you got hit by the car while crossing the road? What if you fall down on your face and came back with sores? If that happens any day, I’ll smash your nose with the metal we use to crash coffee beans.” Said my sister.

I can’t forget those unkind words of hers. I was waiting for the school to close. I run away from her. My younger brother came to be with me that time. I told my brother; “if I go home and tell Mom and Dad about her, they won’t believe me. I’ll go to bethel church and I’ll ask them to help me to stay there. But, if anybody asks you where I went, don’t say a word.”

One afternoon , my sister and her husband went to market, then I left her house. My younger brother escorted me from her house to St. Mathew Church. I had no fare, but walk to the Bethel church. I lost my direction and enter to the big market where she went with her husband. I walk back to the centre of the town and checked the roads. I asked one elderly man to direct me, then kept walking. I meet my other sister and her friend when I was close to the church. I turn back and run away. She was faster than me. I was caught and interviewed.

“Why you run away from me? I know she’s evil.” said my other sister.

“Because you’ll take me home, and Dad will beat me or command me to go back to her and I don’t want that.” I said.

My sister and her friend went to a photo shop with me, and then we returned to our house. My two younger sisters were happy to see me. Mom came later and broke the news of my disappearance. My elder sister called and told her I was lost when she went to market. I asked Johny and he said he didn’t see her since I left. I was hidden in our bedroom until we know Mom’s reaction. She was worried. When my sister told her she found me on the way to the photo shop, she got mad at me. I started crying.

“Why did you come to us without telling her? She is very much worried now. You don’t even tell your brother where you went.” Mom shouted at me.

“I’m tired of her insults and beatings, I can’t stay with her anymore. I tell Johny not to tell anyone, because I wanted to disappear from all of you.” I said sobbing.

“Why?”

“If I come here, Dad will tell me to go back to her, because he adores her.”

“Whatever! You did bad. Let your father comes today, he’ll kill you.” Said Mom.

I started crying bitterly. I felt like unwanted. Only my sisters were able to console me. We bow down and prayed that my father may not be angry with me that night. He’s always angry in the evenings, and I was about to make it worse that night for everybody. Dad came, I hid. Dinner was served, he started to sip his coffee. then my Mom reported me to him.

“Oh, my daughter! Why didn’t she greet me yet? Where are you Lilyea( Lily mine).” I couldn’t belive my ears. I came out of my hiding place and greeted him. He kissed my plump cheeks.

Mom continued what a bad thing I did that afternoon and how my younger brother kept my secrets. She seemed that she wanted me to get bitten by Dad or shouted at. Anyways, I was not afraid of his beatings, his hands like sponge, they only made me laugh. Every child in the house is laughing uncontrollable when dad pinches him or her. but my Dad didn’t show any intention to punish me.

“I know that girl is very bad. May be she made this girl suffer a lot. I’ll get you registered in a new school in our area or give you transport to go there. You’re not going back to her don’t worry.” said my Dad instead. That day, I know God hears prayer.

I was a free person. In the morning I meet all my childhood friends. I was surrounded by them and asked where I’d been. I was telling them stories about staying with the big sister…” in that region, or country…we did this and that.” I don’t know what was wrong with me. In fact, my sisters’ house was another continent and she was a creature of some unusual world to me. Staying on her place made me very lazy student. I was unhappy and was like a visitor back at my home. I became good student again on grade eleven. Mom was unhealthy most of the time, and the burden of taking care of the house fall on my sister who found me on the road and on me.

I was no able to join the university. I was busy making new skirts from old fabrics. I made four sweaters from my brother’s old hand knitted sweaters. I made shoes with a wooden sole and leather upper, only for myself. I made ear ring using staples and small beads. I read a lot of books and they made me a writer. I design, bags, clothes, jewelries but never been to fashion school.

My father forced all of us to be a reader and he was a good reader. Mom taught us making things, she is my design teacher. They were good mentors. The second boy of the house was an architect, he was doing carpentry, a good painter, poet, writer and sculptor. I’m the six child. Kids in the middle are not treated by their parents like the first born and the last one. I was not expecting to be a favorite child. I was not afraid of being hated or rejected by family or community members. We went to bible studies at bethel Church and we’re discriminated in the neighborhood and also around relatives. My people like to make fun people who are active in church. They interrupt anyone for any reason they shouldn’t speak about. I lost my three good friends because we went to different churches. Their pastors warned them not to speak or have any connections with me. That made my teenage life very gloomy.

There’s no life which is problem free. My brother, the architect died. On that year, he was the only one who supported the family. My Dad earned little. Mom jumped out of the car and through herself to the road. She wanted to die with him, he was her favorite son. I was looking for a way to help the family. I went to Egypt with my younger sister. I was able to visit the houses of the Recent Pharaohs. I wanted to immigrate to Australia from Cairo. The family that hosted us were so wicked. I came back home after 75 days. My family rejected me completely by then. I stayed with friends and travelled to Asia. I stayed there for sixteen months and came back. I went to my friends. After few days I visit the family and sent’em my presents. Two of my younger sisters were the best enemy ever by then. I tried my best to get along with them. I went to an It college for one semester and left for Kenya. Now I’m home. I’m a supervisor of some leather company. I design my own leather bags and clothes. I give small jobs to different women and I paid’em per piece. I’ve a bag fashion show in the largest hall in Ethiopia on March 17th. I’m preparing to export jewelries. I’ve a plan of opening a big centre to help poor women and help them to succeed. If you’ve problem with a friend or neighbors, you’ll solve it with your family. But, when you you’ve problems in your house, it’s hard to discuss them with outsiders. And that kills you alive. My parents are gone. The disagreements are still there between my sisters and me. They argue about religion. They’ve close attachments with all kind of people that ruin their lives. They’re following the road where they’ll never ever achieve their dreams, if they’ve one. All their discussion makes me feel bored.

When I go home after work, they sit and talk about….

When I wake up they start talking….

They are busy with the thing that will kill them. Anything I say to them, is…the only way to sit and jock about…

I left our house for good last Sunday morning packing some of my clothes.

Nobody'll keep me in a place where i don't belong. i was asked to work in a positing which is not my chice, but to make the family happy i did it. I want to live my dream. I can't give the leadership for my life to others. I do what I want to do in my life, not others want me to do. Pastors wanted me to marry a man i don't even know, then they run bad rumors about me when i rejected their proposals. We live in such a funny world. because you don't obey for them they can label you with any type of names. Thank God, preachers doesn't hold the key of the heaven's door. live your life the way you think is right.

Happy March 8 for all my sisters around the globe.

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