I was raised in a Muslim family, where a day never seemed complete without a fight between my parents. My two siblings and I would be deafened by the cursing and swearing that would come out of their mouth, yet this was just an ordinary occurrence in our household. There were times when my father would beat or whip my mother, a very unpleasant sight for anyone to see let alone our neighbours who saw our parents fights as another juicy snippet to gossip about. Although they weren’t aware of it, little did they know that their actions were to have a tremendous impact on my life…
When we grew up my sister ended up going to Jakarta to work whilst my brother and I stayed home to help our parents. We worked hard doing all the work around the house but no matter how much I did my mother was never happy with my efforts and would often bad-mouth me to her friends saying that I was useless and lazy. Resentful towards my mother I decided to follow my sister to Jakarta.
- To be continued....
***As published on FIA Bulletin.
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