On My Way To Freedom

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Travel  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 15, 2016

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Submitted: November 15, 2016

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When I was little, around the age four or five, I always wanted to do more with my life. I would always get strange looks from my father when I would tell him that I wanted to go to school and learn things. He would roll his eyes and say that I was wasting my time, that no one would marry me if I thought like that. I even went as far to disguise myself as a male to see if I could get into the local school. It didn’t really work out, when I came back home from the first lesson, my father had somehow found out and added new bruises to the collection of many on my body and starved me for a whole week.

“But aabbahay (Father), I don’t want to marry, I want to learn something,” I begged my father in the middle of our tiny living room.

“Mumbi, I have told you many times no and that is final, are you that arrogant that you think that you can go to school? You are a woman, and women are to follow the men’s orders. I do not want to hear any more of this “I don’t want to marry’ plot. You should already be married, anyhow. You are lucky I’ve not married you off yet.” My father hissed at me. I didn’t understand why men can go to school and the women have to stay home, be slaves to the men, and have children. I am only twenty years of age, but that’s how life goes.

It was already a hot day in Somalia when I added a little more heat by upsetting my father. I’d brought up the school topic again. I could see the rage in his eyes, how many times had this conversation been talked about and I’d ended up denied and more bruised then before? Brushing my light brown hair out of my eyes so I could see him better, I stared at him defiantly as he screamed at me.

“Ciise (Jesus), why can’t you understand Mumbi,” he yelled out, “you are a girl, understand? You sit and act pretty while the men, like myself, do the work! Faham (understand)?” He asks rhetorically while glaring at me, his hand raised in a threatening stance. I know that if I do not back down my punishment will be worse than it would be now.

“Understand,” I reply bitterly, turning around to sit in a corner of the room to mull over my thoughts. Before I could take one step however, my father grabs me by my forearm and forces me to turn back around. The thunderous sound of a smack echoes in my ears and my cheek is burning, irritated and marked with the print of my father’s hand. At this point in my life I felt numb, this wasn’t the first time this happened and this surely won’t be the last. The shock that a father can do this to his child has worn away over the years my father was a bestial.

“Don’t you ever dare disrespect me in that way ever again? I am your father and you will follow my orders or be on the streets,” he sneered at me.

I touched my cheek and walked to the corner of my so called house. Wondering why I had to be born here, and why not in America where I could be free? Mother always told me that everything happened for a reason but why did I have to be born in Somalia? Why did I have to be born in this family and culture? My father doesn’t care about me, he just cares that I marry a man with money that will help my family get through life.

“Stop staring of into space, Mumbi, a man won’t find you attractive if you keep on doing that,” my father sneers, glaring at me and mumbling under his breath about how ungrateful I am.

Four hours later, when I knew my family was asleep, I packed the remains of my things in a little bag. I snuck into my tiny kitchen and stole some bread and tuna, grabbing my father’s ring on the way out. I wrote a letter to my family to say my goodbyes and I left leaving my life in Somalia behind.

Dear family,

I am sorry that I have to say goodbye like this but I can’t live like this any longer. I feel trapped in my own home and I can’t take it anymore. I have to find my own home. Agustina, hooyo (mother) I am very sorry I had to leave you with this monster which you call a husband and I call father. I wish you could come on the adventure I’m about to have. I will pray for you, dearest mother. You are always in my heart. Ahmik aabbahay (father), I will prove you wrong and show you that women around the world can make a change and conquer the world. Thank you for the motivation. Goodbye.

As I walk out of my old home and into the dry desert of Somalia, I straighten my bag on my back and walk to the nearest pirate hide out. The journey took three hours, I was enervated and hungry and my lips were chapped from the heat. Somalia's dangerous yet beautiful sand was in my tough, nappy, and rough hair. Tying my hair up, I continued my journey even when my dull hazel eyes cried for sleep. I was exhausted after some unmeasured length of time. My feet were hurting and my throat was aching for water. I was convinced I was lost but just as my knees were about to give out, I saw a boat. The boat looked rusty, so rusty that the supposed white paint was brown. It had the Somali flag parched to the top and on the side of the boat there was a sentence.

“Xorriyadda waa furaha,” (freedom is key) I mumble.

Bingo, the pirate ship to freedom. Once I got my composure, I took one step when everything went black.

“What do you think she’s doing here?” A male voice says.

“I don’t know, should we kill her?’ Another male voice answers, but a little raspier and concerned.

“Wait, it’s a girl!” Another male voice says, scared and high pitched.

“Do you know what that means? We're cursed,” Who could guess but a male voice says. The only difference that this voice sounded weaker, like a child’s voice.

“No. Know Absimil, this is not how you treat a guest. Remove the bag from her head,” A stern voice says.

I felt the rough material starting to lift up from my head. Bright light entered my vision, and, once my eyes focused from the sudden light change, I made eye contact with one of the males, who I could only assume was a pirate. He had a baby face, chubby cheeks, a flat nose, dark brown eyes, black thick hair the was styled in a curtain fringe, on the left side of his face. He had two ear piercings, one on the standard lobe that was a short gold hoop and one on the upper lobe that was just a stud. On the right side of his face, he also had a piercing on the standard lobe and a cartilage, he was around 5’8” and surprisingly pale for being a pirate.

“Hello, my name is Lucas. I am the captain of this ship, who might you be?” Lucas asked softly.

He seemed antithesis than what I expected a pirate would be.

“I am Mumbi,” I say stern, “I am here to aboard your ship to America.”

“Are you sure you want to go to America? You’re a woman.”

I hear one man say in shocked.

I turn my head to glare at this so called man, answering him with my fiercest glare,

“Of course! There are so many opportunities for women there! They don’t have to be a slave to the man they marry!”

The same man rushes to correct himself, “No! I only meant that it’d be a much easier life here, and that there it is hard work to get a man to respect a woman!”

“My name is Graham, by the way,” he said nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

I ignore this Graham character and turned back to Lucas.

“I have bread, tuna, and a ruby ring fit for a male hand,” I say trying to sound as stern as possible. If this ship was going to take me to America I have to be as obsequious the crew so they can accept me.

“Today is your lucky day Miss Mumbi, Absimil will you be a gentle man and escort this pretty lady to one of our empty rooms so she can get washed up.” Lucas said softly to the little boy.

“You got it captain!” Said Absimil excited.

This is going to be an adventure.

Sometime has past sense that adventure with those pirates, I truly miss them but now that I am older I have become an erudite of some sort. I have learned many things in my journey to America and I have made many friends through this journey of spreading my wings, back when I was young and vehement about going to America, I would like to thank my father for making me who I am and giving me a purpose in life to show him what women around the world can do. Now that I am the CEO of my own company I have shown you what I really can do. Father I am happily married to Lucas and I have two children their name are Luna and Moonbin and have adopted Absimil. The sadness that you have cased has now gone evanescent I am truly happy. Mother I am sorry our time together had become ephemeral I will always prey for you and you are always in my heart and dreams. My life in America has been great so far, I finally feel ignoble and I am know in a state of amity, goodbye mother and father I love you forever and always.

From your dearest daughter Mumbi. 

 


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