Alemtsahye Gebrekidan was 10 when her childhood came to an abrupt end.
'I was playing outside and my mum called me inside to the house,' she
remembers of the day her world changed forever.
'She said "you're going to marry". I was surprised and I cried but I
didn't say anything to them [her parents].' Her wedding, to a boy of 16,
took place just two months later.
Shocking though it might seem, her experience is by no means unique.
According to World Health Organisation figures, 14.2 million girls under
the age of 15 are forced into marriage each year.
'I was in school,' she remembers, 'although I stopped the school when I
was married. I do have happy memories of childhood - it was just eat and
play.'
All that ended when it was decided she would marry a boy, who until the day of their wedding, she had never met.
'I didn't know him,' she says. 'I was OK when I saw him - he was a child
like me. He was upset as well, the same like me... he was 16 years
old.'
Read the rest of her sad story below
As Alemtsahye's story reveals, girls aren't the only victims of forced marriages,
'Boys do get married young and that is an issue that needs to be
addressed,' she explains. 'But the majority of child marriages involve
girls.
'Also, boys tend to marry girls same age or younger while girls marry
much older men. Boys also aren't taken out of education while girls run
the risk of early childbirth and all the complications that brings.'
While Alemtsahye was, at least, given a husband closer to her own age,
the wedding meant leaving home, leaving school and beginning life as a
traditional Ethiopian wife.
'I was collecting water, wood and cooking for my husband and the days were like that,' she remembers.
'The water was far away and not near to our house. We would go far, then come back and I would cook for my husband.'
By the time she was 13, Alemtsahye, although still a child herself, had a baby son, Tefsalen, now 25, to care for as well.
She remembers the pregnancy and birth as a traumatic time, made worse by
the fact that her immature body couldn't cope with the physical demands
of carrying a baby.
'When I was pregnant, it was painful and I cried,' she recalls. 'And
also when the baby was delivered it was so painful because I was a
child.'
But if pregnancy was difficult, motherhood was even tougher and made
worse by the fact that in 1989, Ethiopia was in the throes of a vicious
civil war.
'After the baby was born, there was a very bad war, and my husband, they
took him, and he was 19 years old and he was dead in the war,' she
says, her English slightly halting as she remembers.
'I was a widow at 13 and when [my husband] left me, he left me with a
one-year-old baby. It was very hard. Very difficult for me left behind
with a baby and still a baby myself.'
And although she hadn't wanted to marry her husband, Alemtsahye says she
still feels sad when she thinks of his short life and how little
enjoyment he had.
'I feel sorry for him because he did not enjoy his life,' she says. 'He
married young and finished in a war that ended his life. When I see his
son, I sometimes cry.'
Left alone with only her son, Alemtsahye was left vulnerable and soon
fell into the hands of traffickers, tempted by promises of a better life
abroad.
Leaving her son with her mother, she travelled to Egypt where she worked as an unpaid domestic servant.
But just two months after arriving, more traffickers appeared - this time promising her a new life in the UK.
'I was smuggled to London by Arab people,' she explains. 'They said:
"you are working with us and we will take you to London". They brought
me and then they left me here.'
Still just 16-years-old, the former child bride was now an asylum
seeker, initially placed with a foster family because of her youth but
swiftly moved to a tiny flat of her own.
She went back to school and learned English and now helps to run a
charity called Girls Not Brides which aims to help former child brides
from Ethiopia.
Her son, now 25, lives in the Ethiopian capital, Addis Ababa, and grew
up with his grandparents, only seeing his mother during her occasional
visits home.
'It was so hard, very difficult,' she says frankly. 'I was thinking how
to bring him to live with me [in London] but I can't bring him now
because he's in his 20s. I tried last year and they said no.'
Did she ever worry that her parents might try to marry him off at a
young age as well? If they had, says Alemtsahye, she would have found a
way to stop the wedding.
'I told him: "Never ever think to marry young! I wanted him to get
educated so I said to him: "look at me, I am your mother, look at
everything that messed up my life!"'
'He is a carpenter,' she adds. 'I am very proud of him now!'
Although Alemtsahye's story has a happy ending, she's aware that the
problem of child marriage shows no signs of going away and, if WHO
estimates prove correct, could become increasingly widespread over the
next five years.
'I would say to girls, don't marry. Enjoy your childhood and go to
school - learn. For me, I feel my childhood was robbed. I missed my
education - I ended up empty - with nothing! I learned everything in
London.'
And for the parents of those girls, her message is stronger still. 'Why do you damage his or her life?' she asks.
'Send them to school to study. Do you know the problems that come with
marrying off a child so young? They will miss their childhood.'
Alemtsahye, Now 38 and living in London, she says she still feels angry
with her parents at times and says her life was 'ruined' by her early
marriage.'My parents and his parents decided [on the marriage],' she
adds. 'I didn't choose.'
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