I am my father’s daughter as a little girl,
My brother’s sister.
People outside of my family do not know my name;
Sharing my name is a grave dishonor.
Before hitting puberty, before having the chance to live my life,
I am claimed by someone as their bride
My name, my identity dies,
Before I even discover myself
I become someone’s wife.
To my husband’s friends I am “yanga”*
Or out of respect I am called “mother of the kids”
I am known by my son’s name
Instead of the other way around.
Where did my name go?
I cannot ignore this erasure any longer.
My name. My identity. My right.
*An informal term for “sister-in-law”.
Written in support of #WhereIsMyName, A campaign to fight stigma around using women’s names in public in Afghanistan .
Feature Image by Zahra Khodadi. Follow her on Instagram.
Latest posts by Wadia Samadi (see all)
- Where did my name go? - February 5, 2018
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