The Maasai people of Kenya are the oldest known African community to practice female circumcision. In addition to this they also make incisions on the skin in different patterns using hot metal and they also remove two lower front teeth. All these practices are a symbol of their culture. This is their identity and it underlines that they are a people who are proud of their culture.

I am the firstborn daughter of seven children, three girls and four boys. My parents are semi-literates and they do not fully support female circumcision. However, they have a strong belief in their society’s virtues that they do not wish to go against it. At the age of 13 and while attending a boarding school run by the Catholic Church, my time to be circumcised came around, like the other girls of my age in our village.

During the long December holiday, the ceremony preparations began. Girls and boys from neighbouring villages congregated in my village, which was the centre of the initiations. Nights of dancing and the singing of traditional initiation songs followed. Most of these songs mocked anyone who dared to question the rituals. I was one of nine initiates. We were locked in a hut with three women attendants teaching us how to behave before men and be submissive to men – behaviour typical of a patriarchal society where women are to be seen and not heard. The teachings went on for three weeks of total seclusion.

The great day finally came. We were dressed in two white sheets with tons of beaded necklaces and all sorts of ornaments. Our razor shaved heads were covered with coats of red ochre. Our bodies smeared with animal fat. I am sure I looked apprehensive and like a scared animal. Around midnight, we were finally taken out of the hut. We were led to the centre of the village where everyone was waiting to encourage us.

On arrival, the women started dancing and singing around us. We were forced to dance with everyone else but under strict surveillance of the older women. We danced till 5am in the morning. Then we were seized by the three older women and one of them cried, “to the river”. We obeyed and the crowd started walking to the river. The singing continued all the way.

At the river, the singing stopped and it was dead silent. My heart was beating wildly and I thought the girl beside me could hear my heart throbbing; I glanced at the other girls to see whether they were as scared as I was, then I darted my eyes about to gauge if I could escape; I couldn’t.

We were made to sit on the river bank with our feet wide apart. Strong hands held our arms back firmly and leather ropes were tied around our thighs and held in place by some women. It was both humiliating and chilling to the bone. I sat there trembling and numb. I could not believe it was happening to me. Our legs were dipped in the water to numb the body to prevent excessive bleeding and reduce some degree of the horrific pain.

A strange looking woman came and stood before us. We watched with awe as she removed a knife-like object made from animal bone. Though the tool looked sharp, it was not as sharp as a knife would be. Being the second in line, I watched the woman as she cut the girl. The onlookers cheered on. I watched in a daze as the same procedure was carried out on me. I sat there in shock looking at my private parts all red and bloody.

What I felt was agonizing beyond comprehension. During this whole process, the victims had to endure this without even blinking – to do so would be seized on by the crowd as a sign that the girl was a coward and she would afterwards be mocked in the village henceforth.

I am now 22 years old and looking back on this so-called rite of passage, I can say that time has not healed my wounds. Sometimes my private parts get into such a bad state I have to go to the hospital for treatment. But however bad the physical wounds, they are not as severe as the psychological torture I have undergone.

I am now fighting these violent practices via college groups formed to fight them. It is not easy though, because the people are glued to their culture. As a result I feel so much hatred for the culture that so crudely defiled my spirit and my body. I feel forever robbed of the beauties that God gave me to distinguish between women and men. I hope that some day my people will stop this humiliating practice once and for all.