It Was a Secret, You Could Not Even Tell Your Mother

I cannot recall when my menstrual cycle began. If I had to guess, I would say sometime around the age of 12. I do remember that when I got my period, I had no idea what was going on. No one had told me anything and no one was going to. I was afraid and not entirely sure of what I had to do or who I had to talk to. At some point, I spoke to my mother after she noticed that something had changed. She told me a bit about what was happening to me, but did not go into detail. She taught me two lessons that I was not to forget:

I was to stay away from boys at all cost or suffer the consequences – an unwanted pregnancy. She did not explain any further and I was left with the impression that just going near a boy would get me pregnant.
I was not to tell anyone about it. It was a topic that was best not discussed, at any time with anyone. In those times, everything around womanhood and in particular, periods, was a secret that you had to keep to yourself. You did not even talk to your sisters or friends about it, unless you absolutely had to.

My mother taught me what I had to do each month when mother nature came to visit. I was to use homemade pads fashioned out of old blankets or clothes. She made me some which I could use, especially for school. These were not like the pads that are used today and there was no science behind them. This meant that I often had accidents at school.

Each month brought with it the same set of challenges which made being at school very difficult. Children can be cruel and I remembered being laughed at by some of the boys at school on the days that the blood seeped through my homemade pad onto my school uniform. Due to the embarrassment and shame I often stayed at home during my period. One of the most difficult parts was that when I did return to school, I could not tell anyone why I had missed school. The teachers would therefore punish me for missing school without a legitimate excuse. Each month brought with it the same set of challenges which made being at school very difficult.

I do remember one terrible experience I had. It was during the school athletic training when I was still young. I was running in one of the heats when my makeshift pad fell out in front of the other students and teachers. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I did not know what to do. Some of the female teachers who had seen what had happened came to my rescue. I and my makeshift pad were removed from the field and the training continued.

I am now a mother and a grandmother. When my daughters began their menstrual cycles I made sure they had the information they needed to adequately take care of themselves. At first it was difficult to discuss a topic that I had been taught as a child was taboo, but now I am open because I realize how important it is to educate children about their bodies. I know there are organizations in Zimbabwe which go around schools educating young women and girls about their menstrual cycle and the importance of good hygiene. This makes me very happy because it means that more girls no longer have to endure the trauma that I did as a young girl.

Rutendo, 56

Zimbabwe

No One Ever Told Me, I Would Bleed from My Vagina.

One day, when I was 10-years-old, I sat on the toilet seat, removed my underwear to discover it was covered in blood. In that instant, I knew I was dying.

I had seen my fair share of movies and science fiction TV shows (i.e., The Twilight Zone), to know that blood coming out of a human body (with no discernible physical injury) was a sign of impeding death. I knew, for a fact that I had contacted dysentery[1] or some undiscovered fatal disease. At that point, I made peace with my maker (actual peace, I have not felt so close to God since). I was simultaneously, petrified and completely calm.

Once I had relieved myself, I put back on my underwear (It’s not like I had anything else with me), and washed my hands and went in search of my mother.

There are many times in a child’s life when they know they must tell their parents the truth. Not because it is the right thing to do, but because you know what you have done is so reprehensible that you cannot fix it yourself. Like as a child, you hit your brother over the head so hard that you knocked him out. You know at that moment you needed to tell your parents even though you knew the punishment would be equally as unbearable as letting your brother die. This is how I felt approached my mother in the kitchen. I was certain she was going to yell at me for not taking better care of myself. However, I was also certain, that if I was dying, my mother needed to know. Who else was going to make the funeral arrangements?

As I walked into the kitchen, she looked up from what she was doing and seeing the guilty look on my face, asked, “Waiteii?”[2] My answer was, “I think I am dying. I went into the bathroom and blood came out”. I must stop here and note that in most stories I have heard or read about a girl getting her first period, there is always the moment a parent finds out and the parent is happy to know that their child is developing normally. My mother was no different and she was ecstatic to hear that I had become a woman. She was positively beaming. The only other time I have seen her that happy, was when I told her I was no longer pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature.

My mother’s joy did not assuage my fears and to be honest, the fact that my own mother was overjoyed at the prospect of my demise was sure sign that she preferred my younger brother. I was not impressed. I therefore, repeated what I had said, emphasizing every syllable to make sure I did not give the wrong impression. Again, she smiled and this time said, “You are now a woman”. She said that it was perfectly normal and that I did not have a disease and was most definitely not going to die. She proceeded to explain that this would happen to me every month and that I would have to use cotton wool to stop it from ruining my clothes (this did not work out too well).

My mother also told me this is not something that was discussed with men or even other women. It was a secret I had to keep from everyone I knew. I never asked why but it was a secret that weighed heavy on me. I wanted to know more, but back then, we had no internet in our home and I did not even know what to search for in the library. It was not until the following year that women from the Johnson & Johnson company came to our school to talk about the menstrual cycle that I got answers to my questions. Although having a period was still taboo, it was the first time I saw women talking freely about their periods and how they dealt with them every month. I remember there being a suggestions portion to their presentation and all I could think was, “Start telling girls about this sooner.”

Shamiso, 30

Zimbabwe

[1] Disease most common in warmer climates which results in diarrhea with blood.

[2] What did you do?