“Mother started a little shop on the highway. Snacks, raksi and tea. This was when people started getting abusive on me. I remember a man throwing me in the bed and jumping on top me in the presence of his wife. I do not remember my age at the time. Customers who came and drank would spank me. ‘Uncles’ would comment on my body parts and how I was ‘growing’. I would go tell my mom but she would dismiss it. She would just say, ‘Leave such things’. I had no support. My mom was busy in her own dealings, her own problems, her own life. She was not attentive towards us and I never received any directions from her. She was completely focused on making money. There was no such thing as, ‘You are growing up, wear a bra’ or ‘You need to buy yourself a sanitary pad’. I was left to my own devices and so were my siblings. I somehow maneuvered and managed on my own. This all hurt me to the core. I also came to realize that people always choose the weak, vulnerable and the downtrodden to pray on and take advantage of.

During those days, I remember my brothers coming home drunk and creating a ruckus. It was during that time, I was raped by a member of my own family. After that, I started feeling very guilty. I felt violated and impure. I started feeling very mad. There was nothing I could do about it because I knew what my mother’s reaction would be if I went and confessed to what had happened. She would probably say it was my fault or beat me up. So I kept quiet. The first time I opened up about this was when I was 18. I had shared the incident with a friend only because she had told me that she was also raped.”