FIFTEEN YEARS BRIDE!
No one asked me what I wanted, my dreams were cut like a sword. Where was my school that I loved so much? Where were my dolls left, instead of which I was holding a baby in my hand? I cried with her, I did not know what she had or what to do with her. I cried for my daughter who would follow my fate, the fate of my mother. She was not a boy, for that reason no one loved her except me.
Illustration: Argjira Kukaj
The moonlight entering the holes of the broken window was illuminating that pale and astonished face of mine. I looked around broken dishes were scattered everywhere, the food was spilled on the carpets, and those few of my toys have been broken. The cries of the mother were heard, and the voice of the father came like the howl of hungry wolves.
He went out, slammed the door, and muttered something between his teeth that sounded like insulting words, as if all the words he had said inside were not enough, he was still talking.
I slowly entered the room and saw the mother lying in the corner holding her head with her hands, and the red color with which a part of the wall had been sprayed scared me had created a monster figure. These kinds of events were often repeated in our house, this happened whenever father had no money for his beers.
I loved school very much, I dreamed of becoming a teacher, I also loved children, but no one loved me, not even my father, while growing up he hit me as he did with his mother, he often repeated that I had become a burden at home.
Dad was furious, Mom got sick, and the little money we had had to buy medicine. Her illness was incurable, but not unknown … they called her “thug”, barbarism, meanness, call her whatever you want. But she called it love and did not even want to be healed. She loved him so much that I was jealous of him. “Love” was certainly not called such a thing, nor did it exist in our family.
***
When I turned fifteen, they decided that I should become someone’s wife. I hated marriage even though I did not know what that word meant. I got ready as if I was going to a funeral, everything white looked black, even the veil. I did not know whether to curse life or myself, or to curse my father who for a short time removed the “burden” that he thought he was exerting. I looked him in the eye with tears in my eyes, I wanted to ask him why. Why did he do that? But he did not even look at me.
No one asked me what I wanted, my dreams were cut like a sword. Where was my school that I loved so much? Where were my dolls left, instead of which I was holding a baby in my hand? I cried with her, I did not know what she had or what to do with her. I cried for my daughter who would follow my fate, the fate of my mother. She was not a boy, for that reason no one loved her except me.
I swore I would light her way; I swore I would become a candle for her. I swore to become a candle but it was still extinguished without melting.
***
Her eyes filled with tears, and her heart felt a great emptiness. Today for the first time she met her mother, through those pieces of paper she heard her voice. She cried that she had never known that her mother, before delivering her last breath into this world, had prayed for her.
She opened a blank sheet of paper that was the last in her mother’s diary, wiped away the tears, and wrote:
Dear mother!
Life has been unfair to both of us. It did not give me the opportunity to grow in your arms and you did not see me while I was growing. I dreamed that one day we would meet again. I have always longed for you, my eyes filled with tears every time I saw other children embracing their mothers, I suffered a lot because I could not call someone Mother. I still think you have to come back, I think you come back and hug me.
But mother, forgive me. Forgive me for hating you …
I hated you, I even thought you did not love me for that reason you lost your breath. I did not know that I was not the reason but injustices of life.
Today I fight with life, I fight to take revenge on you for what my mother took from me, I fight so that injustice no longer exists, I fight the same as you but I will not give up.
I swear I will not give up.
I will make your dreams come true for me, I will light up with your grace to light my daughter’s way, to show her and all the other girls that we are nobody’s property.
Your daughter loves you so much. I miss you even though I have never seen your eyes!
* Writing based on a true story which has been narrated to the author of the article.
About the author: Lirije Gashi, 20 years old, is studying to become nurse.
This grant is supported by the ‘Civil Society programme for Albania and Kosovo’, financed by the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and managed by Kosovar Civil Society Foundation (KCSF) in partnership with Partners Albania for Change and Development (PA). The content and recommendations do not represent the official position of the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Kosovar Civil Society Foundation (KCSF).
