I think I am old in my age group because I started bleeding before the other girls. I might be 22 or 23 years of age now. My name is Lumusi. In my Ewe tribe this name means “born face downwards”. My mother told me that I had seen too much evil even before I was born. I don’t know how I could have seen it but now I know too much.
I am writing these things down because Mr. James told me that people in his village in
Later I will tell you about Mr. James.
I wrote down about my birth. Let me tell you about my family who was waiting for me when I was born face downwards. My father is Reginald. He liked to have wives and my mother is wife three. There are two younger wives but the oldest is dead leaving four wives and 21 children. I am number 13. We had many chickens when I was young and my father sat at the head of the rock circle when the men met to make plans.
Because of what happened you will think I was a bad girl who didn’t help my mother to get water and make fufu. But I remember always trying to work hard. I couldn’t go to school like the boys because it took too long to go to the river in the morning. I didn’t complain even though you will think I did. I liked to sit by my father’s wives and listen to stories about our ancestors. They were dead but they sat in the circle at night and I would talk to them like they were my friends. I tried to be good for them.
One day I came back with the morning water and found my mother and father talking to a man I did not know.
“Lumusi. This is your Uncle from Yeji. He is going to take you to school,” said my father. “What does a good girl say when she is given such a gift?”
“Thank you Uncle from Yeji,” I said.
I could not look at him. His clothes were torn and dirty. His smell was something I did not like.
“You will leave tomorrow. You will take four younger brothers and three younger sisters with you,” said my mother. “Go to their school now and bring your family here. Your father will speak of these matters.”
I stood up to do as I was told. My new Uncle told me to stop.
“Turn around Lumusi. Slowly,” said my Uncle. “Yes. She is fine. But we will have to see about the others.”
I walked to get my family members. I was thinking about my new Uncle. I was very angry. I told myself on that walk that I would never like him. I was going to keep him very far away from me.
My brother Baako stood up. He is brave.
“Father. I like the school we are in,” he said. I saw him look at our new Uncle from Yeji. He stared at him for a long time. I was frightened because I knew it was a wrong thing to do.
“Baako you will do as you are told,” said my father. “And you will respect your Uncle. You will leave tomorrow. Lumusi will watch your sisters. You will help your Uncle lead your brothers to Yeji safely.”
I was moving on my mat that night because I was frightened of Yeji. I had a dream about a viper wrapping around me and making it hard to breathe. I got up and walked to my mother’s hut. She was awake and crying when I walked in. We looked at each other for one moment then I turned around to go to my mat.
“You must promise to watch your sisters at all times,” she called out to me. “You must promise to be strong.”
“I will mother,” I said. The walk back to my mat was difficult. I wanted to run and hug my mother but I knew I would begin to cry. I said goodbye to my mother in my head and then did not sleep.
“Come girl, there is not much time,” said my mother as she pulled me up from my mat. “Doaui, Naki, Serwa, get up. We must be quick.”
Mother helped my young sisters to dress. “God is going to bless you this morning with his grace,” she said. “Your time of change has not yet come but I must bring you to be women. You will be in school in Yeji when the time is right. All of you ask to be cleansed by the blood of Christ. Do it now.”
It was then that I understood my mother. My age group had just had our blood dance. I was between 12 and 15 years old. I was the oldest in my group and had already started to become a woman. My mother told me that I must not find any pleasures. If I did, God and my ancestors would know and they would punish our family. She told me that I would soon have the cut. My brothers would also have the cut. I walked behind my mother even more frightened than I was during the night.
“Take off your wrap Lumusi. Girls, you must stay quiet. Sit at this tree and be calm,” she said. “Lumusi follow me.”
I would clean myself with my sisters but never in front of my mother. I was ashamed to be naked with her looking at me. She told me to be strong and not cry out for it would make my sisters frightened. She told me to stand up and put my feet far apart from each other. I wanted to run. She placed a pot on the ground and I thought she would ask me to make water in it. I tried to find her eyes with mine but she only looked at the parts of me that made me embarrassed. She did not look at me even when she put a stick in my mouth and told me to bite down hard.
“If we had time, I would sing all of the words my mother sang to me,” she said. “But you must leave before the sun becomes hot.”
She pulled her cassava knife from her pouch.
“Remember. Do not scream out. God forbids you pleasure and these things must be done,” she said.
My mother then reached to spread me open. She moved her hand about until she grabbed a part of me between her two long fingers. Without warning the knife dug into me and mother struggled as my body jumped. A fire grew from a small flame on a match and moved through my body as fast as wind. I bit hard on the stick and felt tears on my cheek. The pot was accepting my blood and mother reached into her pouch to cover what was now missing with mud and leaves. Still I was bleeding. I wanted to fall to the ground and tear off my skin. My hands were in the air grabbing at things I did not know were there. Then my mother slapped me hard across the face and warned me to stay calm. All I remember after that is falling down as I pleaded with God to kill me. The sun went dark and I had no breath. When the sun came back I was lying in the bed of a truck.
“Naki you are crying. Did you have the cut,” I asked. She did not answer me. She was looking at a far away place. Water was falling from her eyes but she did not have any look on her face. I saw that my sisters Doaui and Serwa had tears on their cheeks. Baako sat in the back of the truck with my younger brothers. They were not crying. I looked at him and he blinked at me. Then he looked down. I knew that we had all been with the knife that morning.
My new Uncle from Yeji was talking with my mother and father. I saw him give them a leather pouch tied with reeds. My mother glanced at me and then quickly hid the pouch in her wrap. She did not look at me again.
Uncle ran to the truck. He turned the key and sped off so quickly that none of us knew what was going on. I wanted to scream out and say goodbye to my family. Mother and father were rushing our older brothers and sisters into the yard. They did not look back at us as we turned the corner by the goat fence. I could see red dust and the outline of our village. I closed my eyes and began to hate God.
Baako woke me and told me that we had been driving so long that the sun was now ready to disappear for the night. He looked embarrassed.
“I have to find a tree,” he said.
We had two trees near our huts. One was for girls the other for my father and brothers. I did not know what to say to him.
“Lumusi close your eyes. If any of my father’s daughters wake up tell them to look away,” he said.
I did as he said. I could hear him with his clothing. I heard him moving to the edge of the truck. I did not like to hear the noise coming from my own brother but we had no choice. I tore a piece of my wrap and stretched out my hand in the dark for him. He took it in silence and did not thank me.
The truck stopped in the middle of the night. Our new Uncle told me to follow him to the trees.
“She is cut today Uncle,” said Baako. “It is forbidden for you to touch the cut until she has her blood again.”
Uncle made a grunt and then got back in the truck.
In the morning we stopped at a village called Kpong. Uncle opened the back of the truck and told us to go to the river. I had to tell my sisters to drink slowly. They were putting so much water into their mouths that I was afraid they would become sick.
“We must watch our Uncle from Yeji very closely,” said Baako. “He is a bad man.”
“I feel as you brother,” I said.
We all sat on the grass as the sun became very hot. Naki began to cry again.
“Come put your head in my lap,” I said.
Naki looked down at the grass.
“Sister,” said Baako. “If our new Uncle tries to put his hands on you, I am going to run. Let him take you to a tree. It will be difficult to have him touch you. Keep him as long as you can until I come with help.”
Then Uncle took Naki by the hand and pulled her up off the grass.
“Leave her alone,” said Baako. “She is a young girl.”
“I will go with you Uncle,” I said.
But he continued to pull Naki by the hand. Baako stood up to stop him.
Just then Uncle dropped Naki’s hand and ran quickly to the truck. He took his machete and came running at Baako. Naki stood up and put herself between the two. Uncle grabbed Naki by the hair and sliced his blade through her throat.
It is hard for me to tell of this moment in our lives. I screamed so loud and hard that Baako had to push me to the ground and hold me down. Uncle dropped my beautiful sister and told my younger brothers to drag her to the river. Baako would not let me move.
Some time later I was able to breathe normally. We all sat in a tight circle as Uncle waited by the truck. In the evening a bus stopped next to the truck.
“Get in,” said Uncle.
Inside the bus were 25 other children. We sat in silence as the bus left Naki floating in the reeds on the shore.
“We’re going to school in Yeji,” said a girl in front of me. “I have never been inside a school.”
I did not talk to this girl. I knew that we were not going to a school. I could not sleep on that bus because my mind only wanted to show me the blood coming from Naki.
After two days on the bus with just taro to eat and river water to drink we arrived in Yeji.
“Stay close to me,” said Baako.
A woman in old clothing came to me. She started to speak but I could not understand her. She was missing many teeth. I looked at Baako just as a man was pushing all of the boys to a hut on the edge of the river. I saw in his eyes that he was scared.
The woman took me to the girls’ hut. I sat on a mat and she gave me a cup of water and sugar. I was able to understand some of what she was saying. I learned that I was to wake up and be ready before the sun came.
The next morning I woke up early and listened to the sounds of the insects. I did not know that it would be the worst day of my life. I was still in pain from the cut. I was hungry and tired.
“Get to the beach,” said the woman with few teeth. “Take your mat.”
In the morning light I could see that Yeji was a fishing village. There were many boats and nets on the shore. The woman told me to sit by some boats and wait for the men to come.
After a few minutes I saw Baako and my brothers coming to the boats with ten fishermen. The men were drinking tea. The boys had small pieces of cloth tied around their waists but nothing else.
“Lie down and be quiet,” one of the men said. “Boys get in the boats and wait.”
I looked down the beach and saw that all of the girls were lying down on mats. I saw that all of the boys were in boats.
Then it happened.
A man stood over me and quietly put his teacup in the sand. He kicked my skirt up with his foot.
“Ah this one is still bleeding from the cut,” he said to another fisherman.
“Just hurry,” said the man. “The sun is rising.”
I did not know then that I would do this every morning and every evening for six years.
I remember the first man to rape me smelled like petrol. His fingers were caked with dirt. The whites of his eyes were yellow. I would never look at those men’s eyes again after that first day.
He pulled his pants to his ankles. I searched for Baako who had turned around to face the lake. A man with a machete was watching him. The man with yellow eyes put his weight on top of me. I saw his face and I could tell he was in a rush. I looked at Baako again. I knew that he was crying. I felt a pain between my legs that was worse than the cut. If I fought this man the one with the machete would cut Baako. The man dripped sweat onto my forehead. I dug my hands into the sand.
After the last of the ten fishermen had let their sweat fall on me they got in the boat and made the boys row out. The woman with few teeth came and slapped my face.
“Drink this,” she said and handed me a gourd of sugar and water. “You will wait here until the men come back in the evening.”
All day I sat in the hot sun with only sugar and water to drink. I tried to think of things to make me happy. All I could see were the faces of the men. I was bleeding on my mat.
In the late evening the fishing boats returned. The man who had raped me first came to me.
“Lie down on your mat,” he said.
All of the men put themselves inside of me again. By the end it was so painful that I again begged God to kill me. When it was over I knew that God was dead.
When Baako had finished pulling all of the nets in from the lake he came to me.
“Sister,” he said.
I could not talk. I was bleeding and scared.
After some time the men began to shout at Baako. He stood up.
“We will leave this place,” he said.
After six months of these rapes I was given one day off. My sisters and brothers were all put into one hut. We were given taro and fufu. We sat in silence on our mats as we ate. After two hours Baako spoke.
“Sisters. We see what you go through every day. We are sorry. We cannot help,” he said.
“We do not know where you go every day in the boats,” I said.
Then Baako told me about his new life.
“We are woken up with sticks before the sun comes up. We go to the boats. You see us do this before the men touch you. We are given sugar and water. We row the boats out very far. We drop the nets in the water. When the nets become stuck in the reeds we dive into the water to free them. When a boy becomes tangled in the nets he will drown. My task is to take a knife between my teeth and dive in to cut the dead boy from the net. I will be punished if I ruin too much of the net. The fishermen say it is better for the nets if we cut the boy up to free him. We leave his body parts in the lake. We come back late at night and must listen to the men touching you again. We have taro and sugar water and sleep for three hours before the sticks wake us up,” he said.
After four years, only Serwa, Baako and I were still alive from our family. Our days did not change. Once a month we were all put in the same hut to find out who had died.
One day during our sixth year in Yeji I saw a large engine boat pass by. This boat made the fishermen very angry. The next morning I saw that Baako had a fresh machete cut to his arm. He had many scars all over his body now. As he walked by me before the men began to rape me he whispered.
“Watch for that boat,” he said.
That night I dreamt of stabbing the fishermen with their machetes. I used to have that dream when I first came to Yeji but that was long ago. It stirred my anger. I had not felt this way for many years.
The next morning I felt the hatred rise. I think the engine boat had given me hope and the hope had made me long for all of the lost years.
That night when we were all asleep a hand was put over my mouth as I lay on my mat.
“My name is Mr. James,” said a dark man with an accent I did not know. “Come quietly and quickly.”
I ran with Mr. James to a waiting canoe on the lake. There were five other girls in the boat. He started to row.
“Wait!” I said. “What about my brother and sister? I need to…” But he made me stay quiet.
Mr. James pulled the canoe up to the engine boat and we climbed a rope. When we got in the boat everyone was screaming and moving very quickly. The boat gained speed and we watched as Yeji moved off into the distance.
We were brought to a compound in
One day Mr. James told us that our parents would be coming to see us. We all began to cry. I was very scared of my parents and did not want to see them. Mr. James said that we were not going home with them. He said that we were supposed to tell our parents everything that happened to us.
When I saw my mother and father walk into the room I could not look at them. They were told to sit far away from us. That day there was not one child who could speak. Finally after one week we had all told our crying parents about Yeji. It took two more months before I agreed to go back to Adidoma with my family.
On the day that I went back with my family the center had a ceremony for us. My father stood up and spoke.
“We will not rest until Baako and Serwa are back with us,” he said. “I am changing Baako’s name to Never because never again will this evil work its magic on our family.”
I still do not believe my father. When I went back to our huts I was told that I had a curse that could not be cleansed. My father’s wives would not talk to me. I was made to sleep on a mat in the yard.
One day my mother came to speak to me.
“You have shamed your family,” she said. “You were always a disobedient girl. I knew something like this would happen to you. Now you make our family look foolish in the village.”
After two weeks I packed my clothing and went back to
I told Mr. James that I wanted to work at the center. Today I am still there. I know that my mother is wrong. I was always a very good girl. I am the strong girl my mother told me to be. I help other girls see that life has many wonders.
When Mr. James comes back with rescued children I wait at the gate. I always hope he has Baako and Serwa with him.
Still today I have not seen them.
