Written by: Admin_SheEvo
I am Biankie. I’m a young black African woman. In my community, women have no say, women are not given the opportunity to be leaders, and a community where domestic violence is the norm.
This is my story.
Biankie, The Black African Woman Against Domestic Violence
I was born into a family of five. Three brothers, a sister, and myself. A family where physical, mental, verbal and domestic violence is the norm because of the community I come from. I grew up seeing women in my community suffering.
Many women lost their lives because of the countless beatings and insults from the men they married. Yet nothing is being done about these men. My mom was part of those women. As young as I was, there was no time I had peace in the place I called home. Knives, cooking utensils, and irons were fighting tools in my house. This continued until I turned twenty, and two of my brothers married. My big brother Kofi got married to a lovely young lady. As did my second brother Atinbila.Their marriages were full of joy, and I admired their marriages.
I graduated from law school. I, Biankie, wanted to make a difference. I wanted to be the first female president in my country. I wanted to be that black African woman who would give voiceless women a voice. As the years passed, I won many cases as a lawyer. I also set up many organizations to help women mentally and physically damaged by domestic violence.
When I was twenty-five, I decided to visit my brothers as it had been a long time since I’d seen them and their new family, so I went to Kofi, happy to knock on the door, only for me to see his wife disorganized, a young lady coming out with a broken head, one red eye, and full of tears.
I sat her down and asked why. I asked what had happened. It was her husband. My brother. So, I left her house and told her to meet me in my office the next day. Out of anger, I took my bag and went straight to my second brother’s house. I knocked and noticed no one was coming. I knocked again and met a pregnant woman with marks on her body. I shouted and asked why. She told me it was her husband. My brother.
As a lawyer, people knew me. I mostly had a lot of cases of domestic violence. I was nicknamed BIANKIE, THE BLACK AFRICA WOMAN AGAINST DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. The question now was, how do I fight? It was my family, and I was the voice of women. My country was looking at me. Was I going to represent my brothers? Or stand by their wives? I had family members coming to me saying the family is family.
“I stand as lawyer to defend these two women, my lord.”
Justice was served.
An African woman is like a lion, ready to protect.
Ready to die.
Ready to love.
Story by Asem Martina Biankie