Fate of A Girl

She was a small town kin

Her father sold cow skins

To make a living here

He decided to play a lottery despite fear

A lottery of fate to go to a first world country

To his amazement, he won

Migrated to a far away land

He promised to return the hand

After he’s done making wealth

It all started with this journey

That changed her fate


From that day on,

She was no ordinary girl

People knew that soon she will be gone

To a far better place than this.

Far away from poverty, disease and congested life

To a luxurious, healthier and positive vibe

Her neighbors were extremely nice to her family

They became the talk of the town

As if they were rich already


She was eight

When she walked to school with her mom

All the eyes were on her

As if she was to be the rich girl in town

From time to time, she missed her father

She missed him a lot since they were close

On her way to home,

She waved back to the man every day

Who stood by her school

That gave her favorite candies away


She called him bhaiya (brother)

He was mischievous, she laughed hard

Some time he showed up at her house

To bring her food that his mother packed

They only lived two houses apart

She often saw him while playing in the yard

Or while buying ice cream at the park

He would call her to give a warmth hug

He whispers to her ears

I’m going to miss you when you leave

I wish I can go to the far away land with you overseas

She felt so lucky to have such a brother-like friend


One afternoon, in the midst of watching her favorite show

The electricity went off

Her eyes brimmed with tears,

And she sat in the yard with her teddy bears.

The man waved his hand,

Signaling her over to his house

She stood up excitedly

Called out to her grandma that

She’ll be right back in a jiffy


She sat on his floor watching cartoon

He sits close to her, running his fingers through her hair

She moves disruptively,

He urges her to come sit in his lap

She hesitates and says I have got to go

He tells her, first come to my room

I have something nice to show

With curiosity in her eyes, there she goes

He closes the door

Unzipping his clothes,

Displaying his bulge with one hand

And touches her with the other


The girl shouts, I want to go to my mother

Open the door; she yelled thumping on the floor

He whispers, Shhhh I know you like me and I like you too

I’m doing this for our own good

So no one can take me away from you

And when your father returns

With all the money he earned

We can both fly to the land of free


Just then, her mother and other neighbors

Came knocking on the door

He quickly opens with a regretful act

And says nodding his head

We both got carried away

The mother then grabs the sobbing girl by her hand

And locks her into her room

No school, no friends, no fun for God knows how long

She was blamed for going to his house

For talking to another man

The family was ashamed of her act

No one tried to look for the fact


At night, she could not sleep

When she closed her eyes

The man appeared beguiling

Calling her over to him

It was the worst nightmare

She trembled with fear

Recalled his unpleasant touch, his fingers, his fist,

He was so big and she was a tiny little kid.

It was all coming back to her,

She was desperate to tell her mother

That he planned it all

But she was afraid to share

And said nothing in despair


Nobody accused the man

For the purity that has been stolen

Because he was a man,

So what if he allured her

With chocolates, ice cream or toys?

So what if he gave her warm hugs

That reminded of her father?

But he still was a stranger

She should have known better

Little did they know?

She was the perfect bait

Because she was only eight

They gave her someone else’s blame

And sealed her with a lifetime of guilt and shame.


When her father returned after few years

They all migrated with him

To a far away land

But the pain and trauma never left her

Indeed, she was living

As a dead child in grieving


FACT:  Abusers can be neighbors, friends and family members. Believe your child, not the offender.


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Lucky Begum

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

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