Dadda and Momma were so happy and ecstatic, so was I. I loved them both so much, just as I loved my brother, so fiercely. I loved Dadda’s tender voice and Momma’s soothing touch, it made me feel precious. I was in awe of the warmth they provided me with and I was so grateful for having them. My brother used to tell me stories, play with me, “I will protect you, because I am your big brother.” he used to say, and I would giggle. But all of that changed one day, I no longer heard my Dadda’s soothing voice, instead his voice was full of anger directed at Momma and me. My Momma used to sob and sob for hours on end. The warmth I used to feel was replaced by coldness. Even my big brother stopped talking to me. I was suddenly so alone.
The sterile antiseptic environment frightened me, scary people in masks were working on big beeping machines. “You won’t feel a thing”, one of them said. Soon my momma was out stone cold. And I was never so scared in my life. They cut her open, precisely and carefully. Everything was red, the gloves were soaked with momma’s blood, the cotton and the sheets too, “Momma, momma wake up, I promise to be good, momma please”, I pleaded. No one listened. I was restless and I squirmed and kicked, the scary man in the mask reached inside the opening to momma’s stomach and after a few agonising moments, I knew no more.
Newspapers carried the news article in big bold letters ‘Female fetus found dumped in a garbage can’ the next day.
The whole town was in a uproar.
Midst all, a life was taken away cruelly just because she was unwanted. Just because she was a girl. She never knew this beautiful life. She never knew this world. She was killed brutally before she took her first breath, her life was forfeited because of the prejudice held against her gender. She died before she even lived.