I was reminiscing on early childhood memories, and these are what I
remember to be the earliest (maybe 3 years old, maybe earlier because
everything gets fuzzy at that age). I started thinking about them when
one woman in a Facebook group about parenting started to lecture me
about how I should thank my parents for spanking me because I was such a
good student in school and don't have a criminal record.
- It's evening, and my mom slapping me really hard with a bunch of townsfolk staring at me because I went outside in the dark.
- Some kid played a prank on me and I got really mad, and tried to tell on him but the older man laughed it off. My mom laughed about it for years.
- I was sleeping naked and my mom covered my body in some oil that burned, only to "burn away the germs." It was called "BB Oil" but I don't think it's the kind people buy in stores here.
- Getting fed huge penicillin pills that made me throw up, but I got hit if I threw up. My intestinal flora never fully recovered.
- I wandered off out of the house and some older kid stuffed a lit cigarette in my mouth. I coughed and started crying. My aunt found me and took me home.
- Parents having a fight and I'm staring at my mom, crying because she said my dad was spending a lot of time with some other woman.
- My dad hitting me for one reason or another, and yelling at me to stop crying because he would hit me again if I cried (which he did). And then 5 minutes later he would pick me up, wipe my tears, and force me to eat food I hated eating when I wasn't even hungry.
- My mom's sister (now my mother in law by forced marriage) slapping me after a very friendly Hindu man (who looking back I realize was one of the nicest adults in my early childhood) offered me snacks, telling me to never eat food from Hindus because at night, they mix their food with cow urine.
- Looking at the crescent moon and being excited because Ramadan was about to start. (the happiest memory from this time period)
- Tons of memories of wetting the bed, and various relatives shaming me for it.
- My mom hitting me because I couldn't write a cursive T and I sat there thinking about how much I missed my dad (he was away on a long business trip). This was at an age where no other kids learned how to read or write, but my mom forced me to learn how to read and write basic words in English, Bengali and Arabic.
