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... no trial, nothing.
Her only crime was being a loving wife and a caring mother.
Growing up, I did not know the whereabouts of my parents
my family thought it best if I was not told until I was old enough to understand.
So one day, after school at the local internet cafe
I Googled my parents' names.
What I found shook me to the core.
I remember that night as I walked home with my sister, in tears
she explained to me that the country I've grown to love and appreciate was not as safe as I thought it was.
She told me that our country was in political shambles
as simply as an eight year old can comprehend.
When I demanded an explanation, even she could not say why.
I fled Eritrea with my grandmother in 2009
because there was no future for me there.
I don't want to say that anymore.
I still don't know how to cope with my story.
The other day some one asked me, "how does it feel? How do you deal with what happened to you?"
I don't. I didn't know how to answer.
This is my life. I don't know any different. It's not coping, it just is.
I am here today to be the voice of my parents, and the thousands oppressed.
This is a story about human rights abuse.
But it is also the story about a family, my family.
and how the rights of my family members was violated.
Every family in Eritrea has the same story of abuse at the hands of an un-elected government.
I only pray that it ends before more people die trying to escape or survive the prison that Eritrea has become.
Thank you for your time.