BY: RONITA
I was around 13 when I got my first period—a moment every girl anticipates with a mix of curiosity, anxiety, and quiet fear. But in my community, it wasn’t just a physical change; it came wrapped in layers of stigma and old rules. I had heard the stories: once you get your period, you cannot see the sun for a week. You must stay inside—hidden—for 21 days. You are “impure” during this time.
I had seen it happen to other girls. One day, they were at school, laughing and talking. The next, they were gone—locked away in a room, their presence erased. I was scared the same would happen to me.
But fate had a different plan.
My first period arrived right in the middle of my final exams. The timing couldn’t have been more intense—or more transformative.
I remember sitting in my room, shocked and unsure, expecting the announcement of restrictions. Would I be told to stay indoors? Would I have to miss my exams and repeat the year? Would my life pause here for three whole weeks?
But something unexpected happened. My family chose me over the taboo.
Instead of locking me inside, they handed me my school bag and said gently, “You must go write your exam. We’ll deal with the rest later.”
Just like that, the “rule” that girls must stay hidden for 21 days crumbled within the walls of my own home. I stepped outside—on my period, during my final exam—with a mix of nervousness and pride. I wasn’t defying culture to make a statement. I was simply showing up for myself, and my family stood by me.
I didn’t realize it then, but that small act was revolutionary. For generations, silence and shame had dictated how girls experienced their first periods. But in that moment, the silence cracked. A little bit of sunlight—both literally and figuratively—touched a part of me that had been told it must remain in the dark.
Looking back now, I understand how powerful that moment was. It showed me that change doesn’t always come from campaigns or speeches—it sometimes starts at the kitchen table, in the quiet courage of a family choosing to do things differently.
My first period didn’t just mark a new chapter in my body—it marked a shift in tradition, a quiet breaking of a harmful norm. I wasn’t hidden away. I was seen. And that changed everything.
Let’s continue to question what doesn’t feel right. Let’s allow girls to see the sun—even on their period days.
Because menstruation isn’t something we should hide from—it’s something we should walk through, head held high.