When Power Harms: A Survivor Speaks

I now sit where he once sat,

a chair heavy with silence.

Wearing a gentle smile,

but warmth has gone missing in this place,

replaced by whispers,

by gossip dressed as truth,

by assumptions that sting

longer than words should.

What trails him now,

a legacy that does not sing because it is covered in stains of violence.

At night, my screams had no sound.

I learned how to cry quietly,

how to hold fear like breath.

A mother’s tears, a daughter’s plight

someone’s child,

yet my pain was treated as nothing.

Bruises faded,

but scars learned my name.

My body healed faster

than the systems meant to protect me.

I was told to endure,

to stay silent,

to be grateful for I still had

a place to sit.

This is how gender-based violence hides,

not always in shadows,

but in plain sight.

In power that controls,

intimidates,

and then denies.

I survived the nights.

But survival

is not the end of my story.

One day, I spoke.

My voice shook,

but it did not break.

Then another voice followed.

Then another.

No more shadows.

No more fear to show loyalty.

No more silence sold

as strength.

Right from before the 16 Days,

I stand not only for myself,

but for every woman

whose story was buried under authority,

every survivor

whose strength went unseen

We are not broken.

We are bold.

Every voice matters.

Every story deserves space.

I name what harmed me.

I claim what healed me.

I choose a future rooted in dignity,

where violence,

in any form,

is no longer tolerated.

#NoToGBV

Not today.

Not ever.