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.



  • It feels like a lifetime already. I miss you. I miss talking to you… listening to you. I miss our banter… our laughs. You were my favorite pastime, my favorite preoccupation, my favorite distraction. My heart is heavy. My head feels about ready to implode. Who knew you wouldn’t be there to see the fifth? When will I hear you again… see you again? It breaks my heart that we are not together anymore. It breaks my heart that I made you leave. I miss you. I miss our bond. Who do I talk to? What do I do with all this time on my hands? I hope you know that you will always be my one but this is the cost of pleasing our Creator. I pray that He does what is best and reunites us. I’m sad. I’m sorry. I love you. We’ll be fine in sha Allah.
  • I still can’t get over how you’re not here anymore. I hope where you are now is better than what you left here. I miss you. I love you beyond words. I wish I had told you that more often. I wish I would have understood you better. You were excellent. You were perfect ma sha Allah. I wish I was by your side I wish I had never caused you a single moment of anger or displeasure. But they say if wishes were horses beggars would ride. They can be nothing but wishes. I didn’t and now I’m writing this with tears in my eyes. It comforts me though that you’re not in any more pain. I hope you’re not lonely… or worried. We miss you and we’re doing fine Alhamdulillah. Don’t worry. I know we’re told not to fear or despise Death because it is inevitable that every soul shall taste it but Death is not my friend. Death makes me sad and angry. I can only hope that Death did you a kindness and you’re at a much better place. I like to pretend I’m over your departure but I’m far from it. I miss you so much. I pray that “life” in Barzakh is nice to you… that you’re surrounded by light and space and have nothing to be afraid of. I pray that God forgives all your shortcomings and grants you Jannatul Firdaus. I pray He does the same for all the departed souls. I pray Allah reunites us in Jannah. Ameeeeen. I love you.


Today’s topic is a very sensitive one- rape. I usually do not get deep into conversations about rape because I tend to get too heated. I just prefer to not engage whoever I am in conversation with.

I have realized that where I come from, there is an overwhelming number of rape apologists, a huge majority of which do not even realize they are. Because of this, most times, my unnegotiable stance and very ‘stubborn’ opinion on the topic is seen as extreme and impractical.

What is so ‘extreme’ about holding rapists one hundred percent accountable? What about blame sharing between the rapist and THE VICTIM? Is that not ‘impractical??? Why do you not see that? Oh because you say you are not blaming the victim, you are only saying, “If the victim wasn’t wearing that short skirt she wouldn’t have been raped,” or “the victim should not have been out at that time.” “Why was she in his room?” “They’ve had sex before.” “She didn’t resist.” “What was she doing drinking/smoking?” “It’s her fault she was raped.”

What do you think all of those are? Why do you want it to be the victim’s fault so bad? You do not even realize you are trying to make excuses for the rapist. It is disgusting and sad. If you believe that a person was raped because that person dressed a certain way then you are a rape apologist and possibly future rapist. Do not deny it. If you believe that a man might rape a woman because she is dressed a certain way, then any woman or girl dressed in that manner is not safe around you. Your excuse to this, “Not all men are the same. Some men do not have control over themselves.” The way you keep defending rapists is crazy. You keep contradicting yourself. You are not making any sense. You are insensitive, ignorant, a hypocrite and a rape apologist.

NOTHING can justify rape. NOTHING!

So you agree that that rape is not justifiable? Then why the reluctance and doubt? You say, “What if she’s lying? What if he didn’t rape her? You’d be destroying an innocent man’s life.” Well did you know that, according to a 2013 report by the World Health Organization (WHO), one in three women globally have experienced physical and/or sexual violence? It is not uncommon. These are conscious or subconscious efforts to side with a rapist. Your ‘what ifs’ equal uncertainty and even if that is the case, it never ceases to amaze me how people would rather side with a possible rapist than a possible liar. There is a rape victim whose life has actually been destroyed and is going through more than conceivable. She is going through a lot of pain and will take years to if she ever does recover. All that pain and trauma and the brunt of it is that she is called a liar. To you an accuser’s words are insufficient but you believe the accused the moment he claims his innocence. You are insensitive, ignorant, a hypocrite and a rape apologist.

By the way do not even say she gave consent. You cannot give consent if you are intoxicated. You cannot give consent if you are below the age of consent. You cannot imply a person’s silence is her consent. You cannot coerce or force a person into giving consent. You cannot consent was given because of the lack of resistance. You cannot give consent if you are unconscious or not of sound mind. Consent cannot be given in those cases.

I would sometimes tell you to put yourself in the victim’s shoes or imagine if that was your mother or sister. Then I just gave up on that. If your sympathy is only dispensable on the condition that you or those around you are affected then YOU ARE INSENSITIVE, IGNORANT, A HYPOCRITE  AND A RAPE APOLOGIST.


Sooo I completely failed the challenge… my excuse is school lol. Sorrrrrry😁. I will try to post something short on victim shaming and protecting rapists soon. I really hope you agree with this. I know that this talks about violence about females and I know that rape can happen regardless of gender. I am against rape and rape apologists in any case. If this offends you then you are part of the problem and stay off my blog!

Like. Comment. Subscribe. Share. xx

‘What’s The Main Goal Of Your Site?’ (Day Two Of #WinterABC)

  • I am generally a chatty and vocal person but writing makes me a different type of expressive. I see myself as a jokester so for some reason I get anxious and very uncomfortable when it comes to more serious topics. Most of the things I write about I never actually physically talk about. A lot of the time, the topics I post on never even come up in conversation. Writing helps with this. I get to address serious issues I feel I would not be able to discuss. I can be ‘serious’ and passionate when I write. This is part of my goals for this blog- to be able to be serious when it is needed and to be vocal about the things that really matter and need paying attention to.
  • Another goal of this site is for me to at the end of the day be able to see into my mind. Blogging and writing in general makes me see and understand my thoughts and thought process as a whole. When I have to put my thoughts into words in black and white, I am forced to really see and make sense of my thoughts as I have to acknowledge them, make them make sense and arrange them. I can explore my mind with more clarity in print as my thoughts are not scattered and confusing but organized and rationalized.
  • Also this blog is a platform for me to just share anything and everything on my mind. I can write on anything and it would be a hundred percent my opinion. I can ‘talk’ about anything without any interruptions, no ands/buts, and no need to defending my thinking.
  • The last and biggest goal of my site is to hopefully contribute positively to the readers’ lives. I feel like there are not a lot of young people sharing their experiences and views. i hope my genuineness and authenticity in my posts resonate with my readers, young people in particular. I hope to give them a sense of relatability when they read my blog as I share the thoughts of a typical learning, growing young person. The least I expect with this site is to lift moods and to just provide an interesting read to the audience if nothing.

It’s day two and I’m still doing this so that’s promising right? See you tomorrow! Comment, share, subscribe. xx

Introduction and Pledge (Day One of #WinterABC)

Hey kings and queens! I have exciting news!

I decided to hop on the Winter Blogging Challenge by Afrobloggers. The challenge is for African bloggers and it is going to last throughout June. The challenge entails all bloggers participating to write on different topics pre-selected by Afrobloggers- a topic for each day of June except for weekends.

This post is to pledge and commit to this challenge. The fact that I am already behind a day shows how hard this is going to be for me. Consistency is a big problem for me so bear with me. However I will try my very best to post regularly and keep up with the challenge. Wish me luck.

Posting day two’s after this. Comment. Subscribe. xx


I loved writing and from a young age been told how I had a flare for it. I would write stories and compile them as a child and my mother would encourage me, telling me she would have them published if I was serious about them and I had written enough stories. I used to read a lot and was truly a fan of all things literature. However, the more I grew up, the less motivated I became to write. I did still love writing.

 Consequently, I picked up poetry writing. I figured it required less commitment and was less of a hassle basically. I started writing poetry and it was nice. I enjoyed it. Then, just as suddenly as I had started, I just stopped- writer’s block. I did not know what to write and any would not like any subject suggested for me. I would try writing but just not finish.

Growing up, I had always believed that writing was my passion. I would write whenever I could. I loved it. Now, I barely ever. I have all these ideas in my head that I know could transform into amazing pieces but writing has just become a chore to me.

The realization that writing has stopped doing and being it for me leaves me with the tiring task of finding my “it”. What is my passion? What do I absolutely love? What s my calling? Me being me, I feel pressured to find out my passion. I am currently a second year political science major but I am positive that it is not what I want. My reason for studying this…? I have always been an overachiever and when I was younger I had dreamt that I would be a part of history and my plan was to be the first female UN secretary general. I then decided that I would study political science or international relations in university whoever said to dream big would have definitely been proud.

Before I finished high school though I realized that truly, I had no idea what I wanted to do after school. I thought and I thought but could not think of anything I really wanted. I gave up. I decided that I would be content doing anything that made me successful. ‘Success’ to me was having a high paying office job. In retrospect, I had always ALWAYS thought about success that way and everybody wanted to be successful right? I think that was and is a major contribution to me not being able to find anything I want to do in life.

I would ask myself, “What could I do that would make me a lot of money that was ‘respectable’?” Also for a very long time, I had the fear of dying and going into oblivion. I did not want to be forgotten. Sometimes I would think about extraordinary and/or grand things I could do to be remembered always by the world. I was not successful until I had made a ton of money or until the whole world knew my name.

In all honesty, I am yet to find anybody who has no desire to be successful. However, what I have come to learn and believe is;

  • Success is subjective. One’s idea of success is completely up to them to decide.
  • You should not have to give up your happiness because Society deemed it secondary. Do what makes you happy.
  • Do what makes you better. This will help you and those around you.
  • Money is important but it should not be a priority.
  • Any dream is big as long as it is yours.
  • Your dream(s) is/are valid.

It took a minute to realize all of these things but I am still glad I did. I am still on my journey to find what my calling is but I believe it will not be long before I do because I know to look to what makes me happy and a better person as a guide. I am patient. Just that thought makes me happy.




Hello kings and queens! Welcome to my blog! My name is Mariama Jammeh but everyone calls me Yama. I am nineteen years old. I am a Gambian in North Cyprus doing her second year as a Political Science major.

A writing enthusiast with random spurts of creativity.


‘Thoughts of A Young Queen’ will be an outlet to share my struggles, grievances, joy, opinions, experiences, etc. as a teenager transitioning into adulthood.  I do love writing but I am unfortunately a bit inconsistent and lackadaisical most times about it. Therefore:

  • My posts might be ‘unbloglike’
  • This blog is not going to follow any sort of rules.
  • There will be no upload schedule.
  • The lengths of posts will vary.
  • The content is not going to be limited to just one category or subject.

I am literally just winging this whole thing so please bear with me. I hope you like this. Enjoy. Comment. Share. Subscribe. xx

Introduce Yourself (Example Post)

This is an example post, originally published as part of Blogging University. Enroll in one of our ten programs, and start your blog right.

You’re going to publish a post today. Don’t worry about how your blog looks. Don’t worry if you haven’t given it a name yet, or you’re feeling overwhelmed. Just click the “New Post” button, and tell us why you’re here.

Why do this?

  • Because it gives new readers context. What are you about? Why should they read your blog?
  • Because it will help you focus you own ideas about your blog and what you’d like to do with it.

The post can be short or long, a personal intro to your life or a bloggy mission statement, a manifesto for the future or a simple outline of your the types of things you hope to publish.

To help you get started, here are a few questions:

  • Why are you blogging publicly, rather than keeping a personal journal?
  • What topics do you think you’ll write about?
  • Who would you love to connect with via your blog?
  • If you blog successfully throughout the next year, what would you hope to have accomplished?

You’re not locked into any of this; one of the wonderful things about blogs is how they constantly evolve as we learn, grow, and interact with one another — but it’s good to know where and why you started, and articulating your goals may just give you a few other post ideas.

Can’t think how to get started? Just write the first thing that pops into your head. Anne Lamott, author of a book on writing we love, says that you need to give yourself permission to write a “crappy first draft”. Anne makes a great point — just start writing, and worry about editing it later.

When you’re ready to publish, give your post three to five tags that describe your blog’s focus — writing, photography, fiction, parenting, food, cars, movies, sports, whatever. These tags will help others who care about your topics find you in the Reader. Make sure one of the tags is “zerotohero,” so other new bloggers can find you, too.