By Vera Origa
I am a refuse of humanity, a forgotten species that no one cares about. I have been left struggling for fairness and not dominance.
I have been a voice with no body, a body but not human, but now, a memory made real. Who knows what I might be next?’ I live a nightmare.
The society’s voice has haunted every inch of my soul since the last time I heard it. My world has been so dark, it has lacked sweet words from parents, I suffer in silence for no one cares about what I feel, how I live, how I dress, yet the bar is set so high. I am left wondering how I am supposed to meet your expectation, yet I am a forgotten species, a species under siege.
What is more suffocating is the fact that the society has shifted its focus away from me. My needs are underestimated or better still, neglected and forgotten.
When was the last time I got an essential need such as my inner clothing...? Auh! Stop the pettiness, I convince myself for I am a superior being, at least portrayed by the society.
Unwillingly, I am subjected to tormenting acts of violence. I am prone to sexual assault for I am the prey, an easy target with no voice. If I speak of the predator preying on me, I am painted a liar and might end with a defamation lawsuit. I am left to battle my traumatic events on my own.
With demons in my head and tears in my eyes, I am forced to turn to narcotics for solace. In school I become a truant. No one gives me a listening ear, I am tempted to end my life, for what is the use of living a life of neglect where no one cares about me?
What is then the use of living in a society where all attention has been shifted away from you? I do not feel appreciated, for any achievement I make is always less of what the society expects. Sometimes I wish I could wave a wound and undo this misconception doom cursed on me upon birth, for I am a forgotten species, a species under siege.
My plight is that of doom and gloom. I am left out of the equation in several aspects including education and other job opportunities. My continued exclusion from gender equality campaigns has created a demographic at crossroads grappling with violence, low self-esteem, crime, and drug abuse with me as a weaker sex.
Transitioning into adulthood is made more difficult, for I am severely criticised and put under extreme pressure, I am overwhelmed emotionally and physically. Ironically when I show the slightest bit of emotional breakdown, I am turned into a laughing stalk for “no man should shed a tear.’. I am always in a losing battle with my tear glands. If my tear gland wins then I shamefully wipe it off before anyone sees it. This often led me into depression but who cares I am left on my own to survive for a man is a supernatural being who can endure anything. I cry in silence for I am a forgotten species, a species under siege.
Initiatives to help salvage the situation has failed she is favoured instead of balancing it out. I face competition from my counterpart who has an upper hand. Supported through initiatives such as affirmative action, I am left lagging. Am I jealous of my counterpart, or maybe am I just selfish? I guess not, or am I? To the society if I show the slightest bit of emotional breakdown or fail to meet the societal expectations or air my ‘petty issues’. I am portrayed as sentimental.
You ask me, I tend to believe a society can only fairly progress when it takes positive advantage of its diversity in terms of gender and ethnicity. A society should always aim at balancing it out and not favouring one gender.
Before all this, before I am forgotten, before I become a species under siege, before I become scared of my short lifespan, I am an apple of the eye, I am appreciated, I am dominant. I am the Kenyan boychild. Currently scared of unfair treatment and continued favouritism of my counterpart. I fear my short lifespan, I am a forgotten species, a species under siege. I am the Kenyan boychild
The writer is a Media Analyst at the Media Council of Kenya.