I asked Adela, a middle-aged woman living in Kabul, about her experience with menstruation. She now lives with her children and grandchildren. Though many years have passed, she recounted her story from childhood to adolescence. Adela was born in a small village, and her name was given by her father, who was a teacher. She began doing household chores at the age of seven, and with her brothers enrolling in school, her responsibilities increased. Every morning, she would wake up at the call to prayer and continue working at home until evening.
One morning, she woke up to her father’s voice and prepared to perform ablution and offer the morning prayer. While washing, she noticed blood flowing from her body. Upon seeing the blood, fear overtook her. She didn’t know what to do, what to tell others, or whom to talk to. Still, she composed herself in that moment and performed the morning prayer to appease her father.
Amid the daily bustle of life, she forgot about the morning’s blood and got ready to go to school. While in class, she felt severe abdominal pain but didn’t say anything to anyone, waiting instead for her brothers so they could go home together after school.
The pain accompanied her all the way home. Eventually, her mother noticed her restlessness and asked what was wrong. Adela told her the whole story. Her mother’s eyes welled up with tears, and she left the room without a word. Her mother’s reaction both surprised and worried her. She feared she had contracted a dangerous illness and was overwhelmed by a flood of terrifying thoughts. After some time, writhing in pain, she fell asleep, only to be awakened again by her father’s loud voice.
She stepped outside and saw her aunt. She asked her why her mother had been so distraught and why she had been crying, and why the aunt had followed her.
Her aunt gently stroked Adela’s head and explained that the blood she had seen meant that she was now grown up, and that all girls her age experience monthly bleeding. But she spoke in a low voice, almost whispering, and urged Adela not to tell anyone about the incident.
Still, Adela hadn’t received a complete answer. Her aunt’s explanation brought her some comfort, but she couldn’t understand why her mother had cried. She asked her aunt again, who sighed and began to speak of the hardships of this stage in life. Her aunt told her, “From now on, you must ensure your veil is always in front of you, meaning it must be large enough to cover your entire body. You must not go outside anymore and must conduct yourself with modesty.”
Adela said that when she heard this, she felt as though blood had become a cage for her life. But, just as her aunt had advised, she stayed quiet and said nothing. She tried hard to avoid being seen by her father and brothers, out of both fear and shame. She was afraid her father would notice something different in her or that her brothers would realize something was changing in her.
This was the beginning of Adela’s menstruation, but her story did not end there. Like many adolescent girls her age, she began to notice the way people looked at her and the comings and goings of suitors to their home. The many remarks and insinuations she overheard from others made her feelings of shame blend with anger during that period. Reflecting on her adolescence now, she says: “Instead of reacting with sorrow, mothers should educate their daughters about this stage of life so that they do not repeat our painful experiences.”
You can read the Persian version of this Afghan woman’s story here:
تجربه قاعدهگی؛ «مادران باید دخترانشان را از این دوره آگاه کنند تا تجارب تلخ ما را تکرار نکنند»
