At 21, I've turned my childhood pain into a movement, representing thousands Nairobi girls
What you need to know:
- A Class Seven pupil's dreams were shattered when she discovered she was an FGM survivor after being barred from participating in an anti-FGM leadership contest.
- The trauma of this revelation haunted her for years, causing self-doubt and fear of leadership roles, even as she pursued her degree in Mathematics and Business.
- Now at 21, she has transformed her pain into purpose by being elected as a representative for girls in Nairobi, proving that her status as an FGM survivor doesn't diminish her power to create change.
This is the story of Cloudier Moraa, a university student, as told to Nation.Africa
"I woke up early in the morning, took a bath, dressed in my best attire, and started the journey alongside my peers to a camp to vie for a leadership position advocating against Female Genital Mutilation (FGM). But alas, no sooner had I arrived at the venue than I was denied a chance to participate in the contest because I had already undergone FGM - something I only found out that day. It was bitter news for a mere Class Seven pupil to absorb.
I helplessly sobbed in uncontrollable tears that rolled down my cheeks, with no one to unravel what felt like a daydream. I was unaware that I had undergone this retrogressive practice engrained in our community - the very practice I had such burning fire inside me to fight at my young age.
The sad reality is that I had attended the camp, whose theme was advocating against FGM, with others for a couple of days, and none of the leaders mentioned to me that I was an FGM survivor, even during the peer group sessions. They hid it from me just as my parents did, despite knowing the truth, leaving me to face embarrassment and shame in front of dozens of camp participants.
The bitter words from that day's revelation, as uttered by the organisers, are still fresh in my mind as if it was yesterday. Every time I think of them, I feel an inward pain like someone injecting a needle right inside a fresh wound. They told me that only girls who had not gone through FGM were eligible to participate, while those who had undergone it, myself included, were instructed to stand aside.
I watched my peers who had not undergone FGM address the judges in their speeches with so much confidence. I wished I could have been one of them, but an old lady with a sharp razor blade had mercilessly denied me the opportunity to fight an unlawful culture that many young innocent girls in my community continue to endure to this day.
Because of that razor blade, I faced discrimination and fell into deep confusion. I wondered why they would not let a girl who has gone through FGM advocate against it. Although I did not have the courage to ask them then, it seemed to imply that if you have gone through it, you are going to allow others to go through it too, instead of stopping them.
My struggles to accept the reality were confirmed by my mother when I finally got home and asked her, but confronting it wasn't easy because of the bad memories it stirred. It happened to her, it happened to me, but I will not allow it to happen to my daughter or any other young girl, even if it means reporting to the police.
While I don't remember anything about the events that happened the day I was cut, I learned that I was an FGM survivor when I was much older because, ironically, people who conduct this vice don't openly talk about it. It is due to this silence that survivors in our society continue being victimised, like what happened to me. Just as I was disqualified from vying for a position that day, I have harboured fears about taking on leadership roles. For example, last year, I was interested in vying for a 'She Leads' competition but stepped down before the elections took place, afraid of competing and losing. I felt I wasn't good enough.
FGM is known globally to harm girls; while the physical wounds may heal, the trauma runs deep. The older I become, the more my fears as an FGM survivor increase because I am different without a clitoris - what some say is the source of pleasure. There's also the fear that marriage will be difficult. We know about the negative impacts of FGM, like complications during childbirth.
I fear that when I give birth, I might develop a fistula, and these are just some of the fears running through my head. I haven't yet had a session with a gynaecologist, but I think it's something I need to consider and discuss with medical practitioners regarding how to navigate these challenges before I get married.
I am a final-year student pursuing a Bachelor's degree in Mathematics and Business. During my Second Year at university, I learned of Polycom Girls, located in Nairobi's Kibra. The organisation conducts an annual Girls' Assembly, bringing together girls and young women to celebrate achievements, monitor progress, plan future phases, and elect a representative to the County Network. It was here that I began my advocacy at the age of 19.
Gained a voice
I was taught photography skills and started capturing images of my peers who have endured FGM, early marriages, teenage pregnancies, and sexual assaults. Through this work, I learned that for centuries, many young women have continued to be marginalised from decision-making tables.
It was an exciting experience a few weeks ago when I was voted to represent and be a voice for other girls in Nairobi and beyond. It was a stiff competition, but winning showed me that I am great, I deserved it, and I should always believe in myself no matter the circumstances. As a result of being elected, at 21 years old, I have gained a voice to tell my story in a national newspaper - something I never imagined I would do because I was so afraid of what people would say about me.
I used to have imposter syndrome. I danced as people cheered after one of the judges announced me as the County Network winner. This achievement comes just months before my graduation from university, and I believe this title will help me significantly in the next phase of my career life."