Transcript – Born a Girl in the Wrong Place by Khadija Gbla at TEDxCanberra
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Khadija Gbla – Cross Cultural Consultant
Hi. Today I’m going to share my personal journey with female genital mutilation, FGM. Feel free to cry, laugh, cross your legs, or do anything your body feels like doing. I’m not going to name the things your body does.
I was born in Sierra Leone. Did anybody watch Blood Diamond? If you have any thoughts — I don’t have any diamonds on me, by the way.
If you have heard of Ebola, well, that’s in Sierra Leone as well. I don’t have Ebola. You’re all safe. Don’t rush to the door. Be seated. You’re fine. I was checked before I got here.
My grandfather had three wives. Don’t ask me why a man needs more than one wife. Men, do you need more than one wife? I don’t think so. There you go. He was looking for a heart attack, that’s what I say. Oh yeah, he was.
When I was three, war broke out in Sierra Leone in 1991. I remember literally going to bed one night, everything was good. The next day, I woke up, bombs were dropping everywhere, and people were trying to kill me and my family.
We escaped the war and ended up in Gambia, in West Africa. Ebola is there as well. Stay away from it. While we were there as refugees, we didn’t know what was going to become of us. My mom applied for refugee status. She’s a wonderful, smart woman, that one, and we were lucky. Australia said, we will take you in. Good job, Aussies.
Before we were meant to travel, my mom came home one day, and said, “We’re going on a little holiday, a little trip.”
She put us in a car, and we drove for hours and ended up in a bush in a remote area in Gambia. In this bush, we found two huts. An old lady came towards us. She was ethnic-looking, very old. She had a chat with my mom, and went back. Then she came back and walked away from us into a second hut. I’m standing there thinking, “This is very confusing. I don’t know what’s going on.”
The next thing I knew, my mom took me into this hut. She took my clothes off, and then she pinned me down on the floor. I struggled and tried to get her off me, but I couldn’t. Then the old lady came towards me with a rusty-looking knife, one of the sharp knives, orange-looking, has never seen water or sunlight before. I thought she was going to slaughter me, but she didn’t.
She slowly slid down my body and ended up where my vagina is. She took hold of what I now know to be my clitoris, she took that rusty knife, and started cutting away, inch by inch. I screamed, I cried, and asked my mom to get off me so this pain will stop, but all she did was say, “Be quiet.”
This old lady sawed away at my flesh for what felt like forever, and then when she was done, she threw that piece of flesh across the floor as if it was the most disgusting thing she’s ever touched. They both got off me, and left me there bleeding, crying, and confused as to what just happened. We never talked about this again.