What can we say a story is expected to mean?It's a series of events.Its a continuous account of one's life's experiences. Yours and Mine. Ours. There can never be a story without an event.Who tells your story? 

  She was 21, yet very naive. Her very first time thinking she's genuinely loving a human, it was all good to be true. She always wanted to make them proud. Him, her, they, them,everyone else that mattered and didn’t, but not herself. She sat every morning on the bed as she rose up from sleep, thinking of every way to make everyone proud. Her grades and participation in College always reflected her level of intelligence, but she wanted more. The real problem was, what did she really want? It was a question that had no answer for a long while.

Then she met Human.

Finally, it began to make sense.She wanted him, all to herself. But Human wasn’t into her kind of Fantasy. Human knew what he wanted. I mean, they always know, don't they? 

  She had this obsession of making sure her life was spotless and without blemish, he came and changed all that. He stirred her life like Mother would stir oil in a large pot of Afang Soup to make sure everything blends for a perfect taste.

 And then it happened.

Her fall, her failure, her embarrassment, her baby. All she thought in her head was "Die". She,him, the baby, everyone was disappointed. Now was the time for everyone she cared about to care for her, but no one did, at least not yet .They all stared at her bulging belly and spited her. There was no way the disappointments would be hidden. It showed off right in their faces. There she was, already giving up on her future. On her dreams .

 He didn't want to have anything to do with her, so he denied and fled. Mother, her friends, her aunt and her favourite uncle felt her pain so deeply .That was it, just these few people showing a form of concern. She went through nine months of agony; five months of not knowing, four months of awareness that her life was over. It was too overwhelming for anyone, how much more she?

 She thought her life was over, she thought God forsook her. She forgot he doesn't act like humans .God pulled her through, showed up and straightened her curved corners. Without even breaking a sweat, he made sure everything was available at the appropriate time .Sometimes it irked her to look at herself in the mirror. It was a reminder that she was her own disappointment, not human, not family but she. 

And then It came, the baby came. Suddenly, love was Spread. Now everyone wanted to share a part of their deceitful affection ffor the little, innocent creature. She didn't have a choice but to let it flow. Baby was beautiful, innocent and spotless, baby had a clean slate, just as she hoped she would have.Just how she thought she would be.

The circle of those who claimed they cared, expanded. It now looked like everybody loved her, but they just needed some situations to show sympathy. They needed something to show sympathy. She wanted more. She wanted them to show her respect, show her that she deserved to live. She needed to believe that her story would not limit her from living like a human being should .

Her story got out in no time. Initially, her story was that of disgrace and embarrassment. People believed what they wanted to, people gossiped. People spat. Everyone had a version of her story.

She did not care .She lived. She went back to school, strived harder than ever. She forgave herself, tried to heal. She did not care who knew or who didn’t know, She did not care who told her story or who listened. For some reason,She saw it as good publicity that her story was out. Afterall, nothing is hidden under the sun.

She was training herself to get ready for the mental strain that would come from the side talks of everyone who heard. While doing that, she carried her head high and walked like the queen she was, and who she always wanted to be, perfect and spotless. Healing is never ever easy for someone who has hurt herself, by herself. It takes an unusual amount of time, but she was willing to at least try . 

The concept of stories is the simple act of giving an understandable and relatable account of a person's living. Women are subjected to so many emotional, psychological and physical life accounts and these things prompt their stories.The accounts that come out to the open, these are what are pinned to her, pain, disgrace, regret. However, it is said that every successful woman has a backstory. An ugly past she never really wants to let out, a line of people who betrayed her trust, and people who do not deserve life in the least . But she tells it eventually, for a purpose, for some reason. 

Even if she does not ever tell the story, other people will. People who look for something,anything to talk about. Some tell it for what they will earn, some, for the mere purpose of making small talk .Our stories are like air, it always goes around. Without us doing anything.

 The only thing that never changes is the fact that it is our story, no matter how relatable, can never be taken from us. The experience is livid, we know every detail.Why? Because it belongs to us, belongs to our existence and that should be all that matters.

   Women who have been abused,used, battered, and taken for granted. Women who have been discriminated against, women who have worked so hard just to become someone everyone will be proud of. Women who have treaded carefully just so they won't make the mistakes of their parents. Women who ,from a young age ,have realized that they have to,by all means, make sure they have something to return to. Women who are looked down upon, you all have a right to tell your story. It is in your hands to ensure someone else hears your story. You will be surprised at how many people can relate to it and learn from it. People can use your story to encourage themselves and move on from what they think was the end of their lives .

 There is a series I have been binging for a while now .There are four friends who are working class ladies .One of them owns an NGO for women, helping women with whatever problem that exists in the world. One of her clients Is a maid who gets raped by her boss every day and night. She finally gets the boldness to come to this lady and tell her all about it. It takes her fifteen years to do that. 

What prompted her ? She saw a show on TV where women were all out supporting those who were abused and assaulted. She saw the love these women were experiencing from other women, their heads were not chopped off, they were being listened to. Their voices were heard, and they told the story she thought nobody wanted to hear. There was another story that was told, but it was not told by the victim. Her neighbour came to tell her story because she did not live long enough from her situation to get a chance. Her neighbour was the storyteller. Another story was told by the victims' friends. The ones who she told her daily troubles to. She could not tell anyone in her family so she had to tell her friends. She died ,but her friends told her story.

  The truth is, everyone has a story, you have to tell yours. They tell your story, we tell our stories, I tell my story. Come out of that shell, come out of that confinement, please come out of that slavery that you think is life. Come out of that fear you feel. Even if you cannot tell your story to the world ,find a deserving person to tell it to, that can tell it to the world .

 Your story is that key a woman needs to unlock her freedom, story is your legacy.

#WM 2024