Her Dad’s words ring in her ears 15 minutes after she leaves the sitting room.

The words pierce her heart and for a moment, she feels like her world is crumbling to her feet.

Suddenly she is in agony. They give her a nightmare and her bright day quickly fades.

She tries – in her best way possible – to get them out of her head but they refuse to go away. It is like they are stuck, held there by glue. For some reason, the words haunt her. More than a relative’s death haunts one.

She reaches for her smart phone on the other side of her bed and sends a quick text to her boyfriend: “Baby, Dad is forcing me into a marriage I don’t like.” The text sends a cool chill through her body.

She cries, throws her phone away. For a moment, she feels like she has committed a crime. A grave one. She starts to feel hate seeping through her skin. She cannot understand why her dad is doing this. She hates him; for troubling her, and herself for troubling her boyfriend.

The rest of the day, she stays in her bed wrapped under a blanket, legs folded as though she has caught a cold. Not even the sound from her phone moves her, text messages spiralling in. Not the sound of its ringtone and neither that of the activities outside her bedroom.

Her world is suddenly reduced to the smallest of spaces.

She never wants to leave her bed, even to fetch a cup of water. She never wants to pick her boyfriend’s calls nor reply his texts for she knows she has troubled him and that she has lost him.

She is in distress.

By now, one thing is in her mind – to leave the world. To her living is suddenly ‘nothing – meaningless’. She wants to leave, hide her face from it all. From its sorrow. From its torment. From its misery. From her Dad’s stern face and words. From her marriage to her would-be husband. It is her only way out of all these troubles. Death is her only way out. Death is her saviour.

The door opens and her mother steps in. She knows there is something wrong with her daughter. She knows she isn’t happy with what her father told her earlier. She moves slowly towards her bed and sits beside her.

She takes her hand in hers and says, “It’s OK, darling. Be strong.”

And in that moment, she starts to remember her father’s orders and his plans for her life. Fresh tears starts gushing out of her already red, sore eyes. It is like she is reliving it all over again.

Her mother’s reassurance means nothing to her. She knows her mother will always support her husband’s decision no matter how wrong it is. It is clear to her, they both want her to marry and settle with a 60-year-old man.

It means only one thing to her; she is a wasted soul. With tears and agony punctuating her words, she replies, “Mum, I wi… I will ne..ver. I Would ra..ther die than ma…rry him.”

Her mother is in utter shock. How could her loyal daughter, Mariam, talk to her like that? Her 20 year old baby. How could she contemplate suicide? Has she suddenly forgotten her religion’s teaching about suicide?

“But sweetheart, is it such a mistake heeding our decision? We just want a good life for you and Abdullahi would be the perfect and ideal man to give you such a life.” She bends, kisses her forehead and says: “Darling, repent to Allah. Suicide is a crime.”

Her mothers words don’t sink in. She just wants one thing – to be alone. A lot of things are in her mind. The dreams she shared with her beloved boyfriend, Kassim. Her father’s stern face and his heart-piercing words. The text she sent to her boyfriend. The calls and texts from him that she never bothered to respond to out of frustration. It is not that she is bad but the whole story is a nightmare for her to fathom.

Her mother is now in deep thought. Mixed feelings. Angry. Frustrated. And, most of all, worried. “Is she serious about this suicide thing? What if we find her dead in her room with a rope round her neck?”

Too many questions, unsatisfying answers. The evening’s sun light shining through the window, betraying the tears that are now visible on her wrinkled face. She is lost for words. It is beyond her control, thoughts spiral in. She has to talk to her husband. Jerked from her seat, without a word, she shuts her daughter’s bedroom door behind her and leaves.

Her mother is lost. Lost between her husband and daughter. She knows her husband would be furious if she goes against him. She knows she will be miserable if her daughter makes true her threats to commit suicide, because of their decision to marry her to a 60-year-old-man.

“She is contemplating suicide”, she breaks the news to her husband who is now sipping tea and maybe thinking about the money the rich 60-year-old Abdullahi would give as dowry. How he would share the loot amongst his relatives. How he will entertain his friends.

To him, Mariam is now someone’s wife and this suicide issue is a tale. “Suicide? Over my dead body.” He quips sipping his tea. He has to see her. He has to confront her and tell her to forget about it because she will be settling with a man. No discussions about it. She will only die when death itself knocks at her door. Death should look for her. She shouldn’t look for death.

He summons her to where he is seated in the living room. He wants to see her immediately. What utter nonsense is this, he cannot comprehend the situation.

Still in her bed, she can hear him calling, but she ignores. Seeing him is the last thing she wants to do. Not when her eyes are still open. Not when her ears can hear his words.

He waits for her but she doesn’t show up. Now, he has to go and talk to her. He has to make her understand, she is now a wife, a woman.

He knocks on her door and enters uninvited. He orders her to sit up and face him. “Listen, I am  your father and you will obey my order. I have chosen Abdullahi for you and you should bring no qualms about that.”

She wishes she were deaf not to hear his hurtful words. Her thoughts are cut short. “Mariam, let’s go to the sitting room and have tea. You are exhausted. Don’t depress yourself, we are here to help you. We are your parents and we will never wish you a bad life,” she can hear her mother saying in her usual soft voice. She obeys.

In the sitting room, her Dad and Mum are giving her all sorts of lectures. She is told her would-be husband is nice and a rich man and he will provide her with everything. She is assured of everything she would need as long as she lives. She is told to take it as a blessing rather than a bad omen.

She feels in some way, reassured, and in few minutes all her worries are gone. After all, they are her parents, and they know what is best for her. She sips her tea happily and her mother’s embrace bring back light to her pale, sore face again.

Weeks after, a marriage is quickly arranged. Relatives are present. She is now the wife of 60-year-old Abdulahi, the marriage she dreaded the most. Inside her she knows she doesn’t love him and it’s only by her parent wish that she has accepted him.

For her, Kassim is the ideal man to be her husband. The man to give her kids. Cute and brilliant kids. She is however determined to try.

Despite her diligence, his old and rugged face is a constant reminder of all that she has lost and done. She knows she is in the wrong marriage, and cant help think of Kassim.

Days go by, the marriage is settled, she is in her house.

The cracks on the soil, the mud on the ground brought about by the last rains, has barely dried , yet she is already a bad wife in her husband’s face.  The house has become a battle field. It is always a quarrel and a fight between her and her new husband, a man her father’s age. They have no common ground. For some reason he always threatens to kill her if she keeps disrespecting him.

The fights do not subside, instead they get worse.

On this particular day, they quarrel and are suddenly in a brawl. He locks her in the bedroom and threatens to take her life.

She is scared. She fears for her life but a voice inside her tells her not to be cowed and without thinking she strikes him.

Within a blink of an eye, she is on the ground. He has hit her back. It is a hard and strong blow and she succumbs to it. Out of extreme anger, he opens the flask she brought him earlier and pours the hot tea on her innocent body lying unconsciously on the ground.

Mariam is now on a hospital bed with excruciating pain battling for her life. Because a 60-year-old has made her life miserable.

Every day, about 10 Somali girls are forcefully married off to men older than them. Men their fathers’ ages. Because these men are rich. Because these men are distant relatives. With a lot of awareness, these forceful marriages can be prevented. Every action you take against this will help a girl. Today, take the responsibility. Save a girl. Save her from torment, from misery. #JusticeForVulnerableGirls.