Broken but Beautiful: Don’t Give up on Healing, Help Will Come – Pt. 1

Photo: Justus Nandwa

Growing up, I preferred being in two spaces: anywhere with my brothers or in school, particularly in class with my classmates because it felt safe. One afternoon we were called out to go for a girls-only session. I was eleven then and this was my first time attending such a session. I’m grateful we had the privilege of having talks on puberty, hygiene and how to relate with others.

On this day, I was alert because the teacher described what was so familiar to me and she even put a name to it. It was sex. But I got anxious when she described the consequences of indulging in sexuality as children; this included STIs and pregnancy. She demonstrated the discomforts that one gets when they have STIs and finished that demonstration with a funny walk and we all laughed.

Another teacher came forward and talked about virginity and the respect that one gets when they get married as a virgin. She made it seem as though those who have lost their virginity will be punished by GOD. That’s what I got from her talk. I became so remorseful and hoped to talk about what I experienced.

When that session was over, we were asked to write questions and pass them to the front. I wrote my question, though I altered my handwriting so that my class teacher wouldn’t know whose it was. I altered the age as well. I hoped that someone would believe me.

After reading several questions, the teacher read my question. I don’t remember the exact words I used but, I asked whether I’m still a virgin if I was forced to have sex with older boys. I was attentive to hear their response, but what followed contributed to the silence I lived with.

“How can this be true?” she said. “Can a 6 year old have sex really? I don’t think this person knew what they were writing.”

Faith Gor

My heart broke, my eyes got teary, I felt alone, and I froze. From that day, I stopped asking questions in any class setup. I began having a heavy feeling of guilt and shame and I vowed never to talk about my experience because nobody will believe me.

A few years later, I joined high school and again we had a girls-only session. And after the sex and virginity talk, I wrote the same question, altered my handwriting but this time I put the correct age – five.

Sadly, the teacher made a joke out of my question and all the girls laughed. I felt broken, lost, confused, and believed that I had a problem. If what I experienced was strange to the teachers, then clearly, I’m crazy. I waited for the session to end, then I went to the toilet to cry. I chose not to talk about it again.

8 Comments

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  1. 5
    Atis

    There is a lot to carry ; but there is a space no one else can’t fill that’s where and why God is God!
    Beautiful peace go girl 👋🏻

  2. 7
    Masurubu

    It’s sad that society has stooped that low. We are no longer sensitive!
    Yet God remains to be on His throne. He always triumphs in the end.
    Sharing this is sufficient evidence of sure healing within! Go go Faith? 💪💪💪

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