I was eleven years old and in Grade six when I had my first period. When I woke up, I felt a throbbing cramping pain in my lower abdomen. Since I was young and naïve, I thought it was a mere stomach ache that would soon go away as my day progressed at school. Before the first class began, my underwear felt wet. Confused, I ran to the toilet to check what was happening to me. Eventually, I realized that everything that was happening to me was what my school senior lady had said happens when a girl starts having her period. The senior lady and other female teachers used to summon all girls who neared puberty to enlighten them about menstruation, puberty, and how girls should interact with males around them.
One of the key points that the senior lady highlighted was that it was a taboo for any man to know that a girl was having her period. Remembering the point sent a chill down my spine because, at home, I was staying with my father and brothers. My mother had traveled, but she had left me a pack of cotton wool. I suppose that that was the period she had her first period and she thought that since I am her daughter, I would begin menstruating the same time she began. Well, I never asked her to confirm though. My mind raced to think of anyone who would help me immediately and fortunately, one of my friends had had her period a year earlier than me, so she could help me.
My friend took me home and taught me how to use the cotton wool that my mother had bought me. She told me that in three to five days my period would be over. That was good news to me because I was not feeling comfortable. At school, I isolated myself because I was afraid that my cotton wool would fall when playing with other children and I would become a laughing stock. To worsen the matter, I ran out of cotton wool on my third day of menstruating. I needed new packets, but I could tell neither my father nor brothers because I was told it was a taboo. I did not have any pocket money to cater to the expense too. I then started reusing the cotton wool that I had been washing and drying in my room. The cotton wool had shrunk, so I took a few unused cotton cloth to improve absorption.
Five days passed, and I still had a heavy flow. That devastated me. I wanted to be free. It seemed like the periods had come to take away my life and my joy. It felt like I was walking on this journey of life alone. The bleeding took place for fifteen days. With each day, my menstruation hygiene became poorer and poorer because I reused cotton wool and cotton cloth. My zeal for going to school died down, but I could not stop because I was not supposed to tell my father and my male class teacher about my period. Moreover, I was shy to tell female teachers who were in school. I withdrew myself from others even more because I thought that I would produce a foul odor.
The fifteen days of my first menstruation were the longest fifteen days of my life. I became like a slave, screaming in the inside but no one hearing me. If only sanitary pads were given for free and some societal beliefs about menstruation and puberty were eliminated, I would have been saved from all the trauma. I am certain that many girls face the same challenges that I faced, and even more. It is time that every girl and woman has to deal with big developmental problems rather than being held back by a lack of sanitary wear.