Sacrificed

Flesh torn,

legs tied,

eyes blind

folded

I am now woman.

They danced my screams into the night,

Hoyoo holding my hand tightly

and stroking my hair with a gentleness

that belied reality.

This is my culture

Or is it my religion?

I forget when minds are not fully made up

Yet.

But it's definitely good

whether for God or for Somalia

I must sacrifice part of my flesh.

Hand it over to calm the raging spirits of promiscuity in me

So that I may be kept pure and fresh.

The women cloaked and heavy

Sit on my chest so it is difficult to move

or breathe.

The tools of holy exorcism laid on the table

In their jagged glory and righteousness

Tin can lids and scissors

Before I'm rendered vision less by the incense scented scarf

I see the Mother Priestess pulling at her twigs

and her make shift razor blades.

She has her weapons,

Prepared to enter into holy combat

with my flesh.

Pull

Pulled

Rip

Ripped

Slice

Sliced

The pain so unbearable

This must be what Heaven feels like.

My body was sacrificed at the alter of Godliness

Or Somaliness.

I forget since minds are not made up

Yet.

God's natural guards of conscience and faith

are not enough

for my morals reside in the physical flesh

to be torn

and ripped

and cut

and split

For me to be woman.

They sang

and shouted

and prayed.

Alhamdulilah!

MashaAllah!

You're a big girl now

I fainted

I came to

Dancing

Singing

and my legs tied

My sacrficed flesh lay on the floor

In all the demonic promiscuity

Obvious in an 8year old little girl.

My blood of whorish evil pooled around the women's diraac's

They danced my promiscuity away

The chanted my body closed with twigs

No labia,

No clitoris

For Somalia

Or for God.

Or for both.

I don't know

But Hoyoo said today I'm a big girl.

Flesh torn,

legs tied,

eyes blind

folded

We are now women.

Nimo Hussein

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