Rizaye Rodela

I’m from a small district dinajpur from a small country Bangladesh.So,my story began since the day I born till today.and I chose today to write the story because just now I saw Laura’s ted talk.
I’m going to begin my story with a story or incident of mine which happend when I was 8 years old.
I was coming home from my aunts house whose
house was 10 minutes away from mine.My parents are both teacher and their school were very far so I had to go to school and all by myself. so,While coming from my aunt house the sky was really black I knew anytime rain could breakdown.So, I walk a little bit and then water broke down from the sky. I took shelter under a closed shop and after a few minutes a rickshaw puller came and ask me,”honey, where your home is?I gently told him streight from here then behind the local elementary school.then he told me I’ll give you a free ride.come on,get on my rickshaw.My mom always told me not to talk or take anything from strangers but I am going to school and privates on my own since I was 5. And I was 8 then and wet and there were the terrible sky which totally scared me so I got on the rickshaw with second thoughts and fear.and in a minute I was infront of my house which was a narrow place I told him to stop in the main land but he didn’t stop there he took me in that narrow place where I was totally terrified.my mom warned me about this kind of things and I was regretting my choise because I had a feeling something bad was gonna happen.He stoped and I was trying to climb down from the rickshaw but he stopped me and asked can I touch you? I was totally numb and I said no. But my words had no value like most of the Bangladeshi girls.he took my breasts by his hand and squeezed them screaming squeezing breasts are the most amazing thing in the world.and I was numb, I couldn’t see anything, for that moment I couldn’t talk,I couldn’t move,I was just numb and I was right under my house. I got my strength back and push him and ran towards my house and closed the main gate of my building. I couldn’t walk the stairs but somehow I did and rang my doorbell.My mom opened the door and seeing her face I became more terrified I know I couldn’t tell her what just happend with me and I didn’t. And the only person who know about this is my brother whom I told recently after clarifying that he is trustable.I couldn’t tell my mom because she is emotional first she will blame me and then in every two days she will taunt me about it by saying staffs like,”you have lost your everything, dignity and shits like that but look at you it doesn’t seems like you have any regrets”. And after that she will come to me to give me sympathy about it.And among these three thing sympathy is the thing which I hate the most.Even though I was 8 years old and my brother was 12 at that time we saw things that made us so much older mentally. We saw and learned from people mostly from our parents who were totally two different human being. We saw our dad beating the shit out of my mom right after waking up and saw my mom begging my dad to stay while going to sleep at night.well that scenario changed a little bit after my got her job but she still gets beaten by him but no matter how many times she wants to do something about it but never get enough strength to do anything about it or nomatter how much supportive me and my brother is to her to do something against him.And I totally couldn’t tell this to my dad though I was close to him at that time because if I did so, my education would have been stopped there and I might have been having kids with a older man whom I barely know.And I’m not even 15 yet. From 5 or 6 my mom told me that, ” you need to study really good cause your dad don’t want you to be educated.If you don’t study your dad will marry you with someone and your life will become just like mine.At that time I didn’t believe her I was a daddy’s girl but now I do. Mainly last night when I asked him about my tutors bill he said me he won’t give a penny and he won’t give me any money to persue my study.
the story I shared wasn’t just a one day it is a kind of thing I suffer everyday in streets or home by my parent