Before You Read Any Further: I believe in equality, I believe in God, I believe in the power of family. I don’t believe in labels or titles, I don’t believe in gender roles. I Simply believe in unity & peace. -Desiree Dossen
The Voice Of A Child Unheard
As a child, you seek the wisdom of your elders. Why is it that in my adulthood, I am seeking the wisdom of my peers? Seeking guidance from social media? Seeking guidance from the Lord through prayer. Did your parents not teach you enough? I wonder what my parents’ childhood was like. They never tell us stories. They don’t know how to communicate with us. Ever since my grandmother came to America, my father stopped cooking in our house. Is it to show my mother’s mother, that her daughter doesn’t do her “wifely” duties? I don’t believe in that at all. She’s the breadwinner and he’s lazy…..
There’s truth to this. He claims to be sickly, but he’s only in his fifties and he cries that he’s “old.” But bold enough to raise his voice and tell others, “They are to do as they’re told.” (Clap, Clap) Okay Commander In Chief. I have some beef and heat fills my body when I think about my life.
Let me just speak for me. Am I the only one seeing what I see? The adults in my life have taught me nothing other than to not make the same mistakes they did. I feel myself going down the same path, but it won’t last. It will be temporary. This too shall pass. I see my other African friends wishing my childhood was as nice as their’s. Somehow, I despise those that are daddy’s little girls. I never had that opportunity, my father was too busy getting tipsy. I watch in awe of how their father’s work hard to win the bread for their family. It’s different in my house. One spouse is quiet like a mouse. But works all day all night. The other spouse just wants to fuss and fight to make the other cry.
In search of a solid foundation and a happy home. But I come from a disconnected family. Right now it’s awkward in my household. Everyone wakes up at the crack of dawn exiting the house to go about their daily routines. When the sun goes down, the family returns at various evening hours, to only repeat the same cycle the next day.
Let’s just say The Koloqua Dialogues makes it safe for me to share this view and opinion without stepping on anyone’s toes. We are sharing dialogues and stories. Here’s mine. I am a 21 daughter, the third child of Cecelia and Sebastine. I am as passionate as my mother and I dream big like my father. They came to America to give us a better life. A life that I am forever grateful for, a life I didn’t get to share with my late brother.
The questions arise, Why do Africans (Liberians) birth children to take them out of a bind or sticky situation. I don’t know if that grateful spirit has turned ungrateful. But I didn’t ask to be born. I’m living my life off of the strength of God. To say my parents didn’t raise me well is an understatement. In the same case, I feel like my struggles and problems stem from the root.
Abuse, mental, physical, and verbal. You watched your hero shed tears to the beat of the percussion that pounded her day after day. You watched, a bystander to it all. This is where the hurt begins.
Is it pride that tells a women to keep silent when she doesn’t want her neighboring sisters to mock her? Why do Liberian women fret to seek aid when being mistreated? Not speaking for all Liberian women, but in my own experience. A mother is to tell her daughter to leave the oppressor when he raises a closed fist. But instead, she says you will become Mrs. rather than Miss. being that he has the wealth and the lifestyle I cannot afford (there is some truth to this). Is it the shame? Who’s to blame?
You came here with or without a plan? You should have taught me to save and not to spend. Instead you would ask me, “Do you have the rent?” A big family for nothing. They say the man is the head of the house. Well that spouse has lost his spot to the one who is as quiet as mouse. She is still trying to find her voice in a marriage I believe should have ended years ago. However, what do I know? I’m just the child remember? My mind thinks about the what ifs and perhaps she did come up with an escape plan. It’s too late for that though. Your youngest is 12 and watched the abuser rip your heart out and step on it a million times. Is this what you want your five girls to know? How will they grow?
Well, I’m grown and I’ve decided to not allow the wickedness of others determine my future. She’s so passive and wants to please him. DIVORCE? That’s ungodly. Well, from the looks of it you would be better off without the man. So how about that escape plan?
I worked hard to get myself all of the material things my heart desires. Mommy and daddy didn’t have it, now I can afford it. On the other hand, your parents hands are in your palms waiting around for that bi-weekly paycheck. Sebastine get a job, if those who are disabled can do it, you can too. If the roles were switched, would there be a better income in the family. My friend’s fathers would prepare a savings for college funds. You don’t even know how I get a pencil to write with. I’m venting but sharing my life experience, through a blog post.
I hope no one gets offended
November 11, 2016. It’s still silent in my house. There’s seven of us, we don’t bother to know when one is coming in or going out.
The moral of this excerpt is, build a foundation on love so that your children may grow up knowing what life is about. Without love in a marriage there won’t be love in a home. Abuse is not love. Liberian Women, I am appealing to all of you, find yourself in the Lord and remove yourself from a man that doesn’t deserve you. If it’s shame that’s stopping you. Your life depends on it.