Growing Up in the Shadows of Silence: A Childhood Shaped by Gender Based Violence

By WAMACHE ANDREW 

As a child, I believed that every family carries the same tension in the air. Unspoken and unpredictable, I thought raised voices were normal and slamming of doors was part of everyday life.

 I grew up believing that conflict was a threat to my existence rather than a part of communication. To this day, edged memories still haunt me. There are invisible bruises that I could only feel by myself. I assumed my father's temper was a thunderstorm that I must hide from. 

It felt painful to see my mother's tears. It felt like it was heartbreak. I felt that I beared the responsibility to help her but she clinged on to her marriage. At that particular moment, there was nothing i could do rather to face my father's rage.

 When the day transformed it was as if nothing had happened. This  showed the normalization of fear in our homestead. The violence became part of life and I became an expert in reading the room. There was hardly any peaceful days in the  homestead .

I learned a lot how my mother desperately tried  to hold on to the marriage. I did not understand if it was love or desperation. As I grew up,  I learned it happens in many homes. It is only hidden and not wanted to be spoken about. My home became vigilante tensioned by only the sound of the door.

Time elapsed, the inevitable decision faced by my mother was decided. She left. To heal. Slowly, she realized that love should not hurt. She chose voice over silence. I was happy for her because all this time I wanted to stand for her but I couldn't. I was glad she redefined her strength.

I remember the violence was not only physical. It came in form of harsh words, control, emotional manipulation and it it pained my heart. I sympathized with my mother on how unbearable it was to cope with it. For me, school was my only refuge yet even there I carried home with me. I struggled with poor concentration and I felt envy to students who spoke highly of their parents.

As I grew older, I realized violence is not love. Today I speak not just as a survivor but a someone who understands the lasting impact of Gender Based Violence.Telling my story is part of the healing process but it is not easy to let go but today. 

The Silence of my own home is different silence of harmony. Peace under safe space. Perhaps sharing this story  can help those in similar situations reclaim their voice and not suffer in silence.

In conclusion, I remind you that everybody has a voice. Gender based violence has changed in the modern world. Both men and women are abused and suffer. Say no to Gender Based Violence before it is too late.

The Writer is a Second Year BA Journalism and Mass Communication Student at Chuka University