A cry of the Unborn
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| Photo courtesy of Internet |
This is the day a name was chosen for me, a name that appear on all my records, a name that I stick with and answer to all my life without complaining.
A day like this in the 1990s, I was initiated into the societal rules and regulations that I knew nothing about. A race was decided for me, a tribe, a religion, a language, a country and most of it all, I was expected to behave in a certain way immediately after my birth.
On this day, my gender, dress code and my gender roles in the society were ruled out. In some communities, this is the day my bride price was decided and my fate in life concluded. All without my knowledge. As I quietly wrapped my hands around my mother’s finger, innocently smiling, my life was decided but I am not complaining though. How can I do that?
Luckily, today I have a chance to decide how I will celebrate the day I was born. A birthday is the most important day in a person’s life. Almost everyone, if not all people have some deep feeling and memories attached to this day. It commemorates the beautiful events that took place on the first day a person stepped into the world. It’s a celebration of growing older and most importantly growing wiser.
Although birthday celebrations are quite similar in countries across the world, not everyone celebrates their birthday the same way. Different people do this differently based on their understanding, beliefs and traditions of a day of birth. Some will wake up to a special treat, others showered with presents and surprise parties while others will shave their heads as a symbol of a birthday celebration.
Well, today I decided to celebrate mine with my pen, paper and keyboard. Today I shower myself with reflections, evaluation and self-analysis of where I am today vis a vis to where I was 5 years back. That is how I choose to celebrate mine today.
As I quietly answer to a name I did not choose, stick to gender roles I didn’t choose and fulfilling societal expectations, I also choose to be the cry of the the unborn. Who’s to blame? Well, we’ll have to find out.
Today I celebrate me.

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