OPINION: Not just a period! When every month feels like a battle

Didn’t ask to be a woman, didn’t ask to be in pain! 

Ladies, let’s be real—Eve should have just baked that apple into a cake and apologised to God. But no, here we are, suffering the consequences of a decision we didn’t make. Honestly, I have a theory; Adam probably gaslit her into it, and now women bear the brunt of it all.  

First of all, we should legally be allowed to rough up men at least once a month. Why should I be in excruciating pain while these creatures walk around breathing, existing, and doing absolutely nothing?

Society doesn’t acknowledge period pain the way it should. 

You are expected to show up to work, attend classes, do your chores, and be productive—all while pretending that your insides aren’t actively trying to kill you. 

And if you dare mention how bad it is, you’ll likely hear a dismissive, “It’s just a period; it happens every month,” or worse, “You’re being dramatic.”

The sheer injustice of it all. The feminine urge to grab someone’s son and inflict some pain—just for the satisfaction of knowing that I’m not the only one suffering is overwhelming.  

And tell me, why does my body punish me for not giving it a child? Not only does it throw a tantrum, but it does so in the most dramatic, painful way possible. I didn’t ask for this! Every week, my body demands something different from me, and it’s exhausting.  

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One week, I’m in pain, bleeding, barely functioning. I’m bloated, restless, either too hot or too cold, my abdomen is screaming and my uterus is on strike, and for what? Because I chose to be a child-free? 

The following week, my period app assures me I’m not fertile, so I should be fine, except I’m spotting, eating nonstop, and feeling constantly insecure. And then the next week, it’s ovulation time.  

Honestly, ovulation should only be a thing for married women, those in serious relationships with decent men, and financially stable women who can afford single motherhood. 

Because as a single, semi-broke, slender Kenyan Gen Z, my body has no business ovulating. And let’s not lie to ourselves—ovulation isn’t some sexy, hormone-fueled phase where we’re glowing and irresistible. No, for three days straight, my uterus cramps, and I’m irrationally angry at men. Everything and everyone looks either biteable or unbearable. I don’t want to be touched and I don’t want to be looked at.  

Then, just as I start to feel normal again, my boobs decide to double in size overnight. They’re heavy, itchy, hot, and painful. Running is out of the question unless I’m holding them in place like fragile cargo. Bras? Designed by men. Suffocating, uncomfortable, and entirely unnecessary. 

And the cycle continues. Month after month, my body puts me through emotional and physical torture, demanding things I either don’t want to give or simply can’t. I’m exhausted—tired of the pain, tired of trying to understand my body, tired of its endless, unreasonable demands. And yet, despite it all, I wouldn’t trade being a woman for anything—not even for a day.  

But let’s talk about how unfairly our pain is treated compared to men’s. If a man so much as stubs his toe or has a mild cold, he will act as though he’s on his deathbed, demanding endless sympathy and care. 

Meanwhile, I could be curled up in a fetal position, clutching my stomach in agony, and still be expected to act like everything is fine.

And let’s not forget how medicine has failed us. If men experienced this level of pain every month, you can best believe there would already be a cure for it. Instead, we are given half-hearted solutions, painkillers that barely work, herbal teas that do little more than hydrate us, and the occasional “get pregnant already” advice coming from a guy! 

Anyway, you know what helps? A little bit of love and care. The other day, I went for a walk with my favourite person, and just being around him brought me relief. He didn’t bring me medicine, food, or gifts, just his presence, a hug, and his hand in mine. And that was enough. God bless JaSuba. 

Men, take notes. If you’re in your girlfriend’s life during her period, be there. You don’t need to solve anything, just exist beside her in a way that makes her feel safe. Do this, and you will see heaven straight.