I’ve often heard that teaching women to sacrifice is both heartless and cruel—a sentiment that, with my own experience, becomes all the more poignant when a mother tells her children: "I endure because of you."
My mother exemplifies patience, endurance, self-sacrifice, and forgiveness, dedicating herself entirely to her husband and children. Yet, she has never known true happiness or joy.
My father is not a good man. He is weak, cowardly, and domineering, often blaming everyone while seeing himself as the victim. When my mother was recovering just a day after giving birth to my sister, he demanded that she cook for him by her bedside, even threatening violence. Just a week after I was born, my mother had to work in the fields with me on her back, as my father continued to demand his meals.
When my sister and I cried as children, he would shove pillows in our mouths to silence us, and he forced my mother to keep having children until she bore a son. Even then, his demands didn’t cease, putting her health at severe risk.
From the age of six, I helped my mother with farming. By nine, we would rise at 2 a.m. to work in the fields, while he remained asleep. If the harvest was poor, he would physically punish my sister and me, marking my first experiences of humiliation.
Because I had to assist with the farming, my schooling suffered. Starting at age 12, I carried firewood and charcoal for sale—if I failed to meet his expectations, I faced harsh beatings. He controlled all the money, allowing my mother only a pittance for market expenses, while he squandered the rest with his friends.
Yet, the first time I suggested my mother divorce him, she refused, believing she needed to provide her children with a complete family. At the time, I thought she was right.
Throughout my childhood, I endured daily beatings with various implements, leaving my body scarred. Despite these hardships, I excelled academically and gained admission to a top university—all thanks to my mother’s support.
Once, severe pain landed me in the hospital for two weeks, but my father insisted that working would heal me, forcing me to labor even under intense discomfort.
During my university years, I used my scholarship for tuition and worked exhaustively to support my living expenses, funneling money to my father to protect my mother from abuse. At my lowest, I weighed only 32 kg but I persevered.
After graduation, I tirelessly worked to repay debts for money I never spent, fearing further abuse. I switched jobs to stay closer to home and protect my mother, eventually buying land and building a house for us, despite my father’s attempts to claim ownership.
When he moved into my house, the stress was unending. I remained silent for my mother’s sake, even when he returned to his home and falsely accused me of evicting him.
During my mother’s illness, he was absent, only to reappear with demands when she recovered. I continued to support her silently, ignoring his baseless accusations.
At 27, despite numerous pleas for my father to attend my wedding, he refused, disparaging my husband’s family for their modest dowry. Fortunately, my mother-in-law endured his insults out of love for us.
My husband also supports and respects my mother, assisting with household chores without complaint. He encouraged me to care for her and suggested I could stay with my mother until my younger brother comes instead of forcing me to immediately move in with him. He remains unbothered despite my father’s derogatory comments as well.
My mother never questioned the necessity of my father’s presence in our lives. She endured to provide us with both parents, never considering if it was what we truly needed. In fact, all I desire is for my mother to live a healthy, happy life, free from dependence on anyone.
People argue that my education should lead me to forgive my father. However, my achievements are the result of my own sacrifices, not his support, so why do I have to forgive him?
While gentleness, forgiveness, and patience are often seen as feminine virtues, they should not excuse a man’s failures. A father, regardless of his feelings for his wife, should consider his children’s welfare.
Am I justified in my feelings?