I could not believe it!I tried convincing myself that I had probably scratched myself unknowingly whilst playing with my friend next door. But no! There was no pain whatsoever! The blood was there. On my panties. I did not have to look twice. I was paying next door when I rushed to the toilet after I had  felt an uncomfortable and unfamiliar trickling. I was so miserable.

What now?

I did not know what do do or whom to tell.Worst nightmares confirmed. We had covered the topic in science, and our teacher at the sewing club had tried in vain to open up the dialogue in one sewing session. Her opening statement, “Is there anyone In this room whose blood dribbles on a monthly basis like mine?”, marked the end of the discussion. Talk about awkwardness. My mother had also tried to tell me about menstruation, but the language was too metaphoric for me to understand. She had a friend from my school who was also a teacher. The late Mrs Philime would hunt for me every now and then to try and tell me about menstruation.Still, all these conversations were awkward for me! I mean, I was not even comfortable in my own body – I had started developing hips, my butt all of a sudden started growing bigger and not to mention my breasts. I became very conscious of how I looked, and I became more worried about how my body would jiggle every-time I walked. A double-knitted jersey became a permanent feature of mine, and the periods made life more miserable for me. I had no idea where the blood was coming from, and for how long it would be coming out.

 

“ It should never fall…”

I remember my mother ululating as she called my sister to come and hear the news.  “Mwana akura!” ( the child has grown!).We went to our bedroom, and as my sister rolled a ball of cotton wool for me, she desperately emphasized that “ it should never fall.” What would my brothers say if it did? And what would my schoolmates say if I dropped it on my way to the board to solve a mathematics problem? I’d be a disgrace, so I guarded my cotton wool with all my strength. I felt more like a sin than a disgrace. I stopped playing ball during break-time. Walking to the board became scary. The worst was having to walk into a shop and ask for a packet of pads.They would know that I was having my periods.

An unusual item on the grocery list

We stayed 60km from town, and less than 1km from our shops. I could not bear the shame of having to ask the shopkeeper for a packet of pads, so I decided to add my sanitary wear to my mother’s grocery list! This came as a surprise to my brothers. One day my mother came back from town and rushed to answer the phone before we could unpack the groceries. My brother came holding the packet and asked what it was. “Those are face wipes for Vimbi’s face.” I grabbed the packet and retreated to the back of the house.

Let’s have the bloody conversation!

When a subject is not often discussed about, there are higher risks of the development of discriminating myths. Very often menstruation is a subject that family members and communities shy away from discussing. And this has given birth to dangerous myths such as the ones below :

• Menstruation is dirty
• Menstruation is a curse
• Menstruation is a sign that one is ready for marriage
• Menstruation only affects women

Menstruation is a totally natural phenomena whereby the lining of the uterus sheds. It prepares the body for reproduction, and this does not justify the marrying off of young girls in the name of culture. If menstruation only affects women, then why is it that most industries that manufacture sanitary wear are predominantly run by men? Demystifying menstruation is a key step in the attainment of women’s sexual and reproductive health. Access to information about what menstruation is, the changes that happen to the body, and also decent and affordable sanitary wear is just but what every young girl and woman deserves.Now is the time to start having the dreaded conversations around menstruation!