Moreover, how will you, a mere kidnapped hostage deprived of freedom, do it? How will you break the barriers, chain the devils and free the victims when you are far from the very concept of freedom? You have become a puppet for public display with its reins in the hands of Iblis. The movements of his fingers are you rhythm while the voice of his heart is a command.
A voice is questioning me. It is challenging my conscience and the gravity of truth in my words with my faith in it.
Its whispers dripping repulsive venom is accusing my devotion of standing by the deference of being a woman, living a woman and dying the ethical death of a woman when I have not remained half the person I used to be. How many women might be going through the devastating life I have been pushed? Crying,
