I dreaded waking up every morning. At my age of twenty-three, I have still not been able to get used to this. I live in a cruel world, a world that is especially cruel to me simply because I am female. I dreaded waking up every morning but yet another day and life has given me no alternative.

I grudgingly sit up from the worn out mattress. My very old bed sheet has come off at one corner of the bed and I can see two springs fighting their way out of the mattress. It hurts just to sleep on it. I get up to find my way to the bathroom. I pass by my mirror to get my robe and I cannot help but pause when I see my reflection. I have too many scars on my body to count. My breasts have long since ceased to perk up- they have become long and saggy. There are stretch marks all over me. This body has borne three babies. At the age of twenty-three my body has become old and weary. It is why my master demanded I covered up. He said he could not stand the sight of my disagreeable figure. Lessers did not shield their nakedness. That is the name they give us… Lessers. Anyone born female was inferior and had no business coming to this world. I was a Lesser. They made us walk around the way we were born- naked, because it was a shame that everyone must see. Sometimes i think of just ending it all by dying but I know that woe betide me if I fail or get caught in the act.

I go to my master’s house and wait- that is basically all that Lessers do. Lessers were supposed to be at the beck and call of men, especially our masters. We just sat and stared at the wall waiting to be called our masters. It did not matter what for. We were there for their every need from cleaning to cooking to satisfying their disgusting sexual desires to raising their offspring. It was ours if only we birthed Lesser babies. We were just objects… their objects.

A few moments after sitting I hear one of my master’s sons loudly and very angrily coming down the steps screaming. He was livid. Apparently he had needed something but I was nowhere to be found because of my tardiness. I was silent. I had become used to these cruel men’s outburst. My lack of a reaction pissed him off more and after spewing every hateful thing under the sun, he pounced on me. He started to mercilessly beat me. Like I said, I was used to this. I fell to the floor and continued to receive the familiar pains of blows and kicks land. I did not scream or resist, silent tears washed down my face until I slowly lost consciousness.

I woke up in a hospital. I was beyond relieved that it was just a dream. It then clicked why I was in a hospital- I had been robbed and raped coming from work. I realized that I had woken up from that nightmare to only wake up in a world where that was a reality.

I looove anything dystopian and I really wanted to write something with that theme. I thought forever because I did not know what to write and I decided to look around me. I did not want what I wrote to be too much of a stretch from reality. It occurred to me that the world we live in is when you look at it, the epitome of dystopia. What I intend to do is write at least ten very short dystopian stories. I wanted to wait to have them all complete before posting them online but knowing me I have no idea when that will be. I will write when it comes to me and I will post them when I write in sha Allah (God willing). I hope you like this.


Published by Yama Jammeh

Female Black African Muslim A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH

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