I'm 18 as of writing this thread and 4-5 years ago both my younger brother and I were put into foster care both my brother and I have an 11 year age difference between my brother and I so for most of my life I've been an only child and most people found that strange since most Somali families have hoards of children but I've always wanted a sibling so I could relate to others and felt like I was missing out.
I remember my grandma taking me to visit my mother in the hospital after my brother's birth they even let me hold my new sibling I couldn't be any happier at that moment but little did I know my life would change drastically
My mother was the root of it all-I wasn't blessed with the best mother she had extreme anger issues and very sadistic it seemed everyday she beat me to a pulp she got some sort of satisfaction from it from punching to biting to beating me with knives and all sorts. Everyday I asked god what did I do to be the son of a witch- I'm better off dead. I asked for death for a while and mind you I'm 8-10 years old. Both her and my aunt my mother took care of my physical abuse while my aunt verbally abused me and made me feel worthless I remember one time at 11 she s*xually abused me I won't go into detail but only a few people in my personal life know about this
This gives you a perspective on the type of household I grew up in and now I certainly wouldn't want my brother to experience such a life I first ran away from home with my brother at 13 and he was 2 turning 3 after witnessing my mother strangling him and that's what made me make up my mind after I ran away we were found by the police and when I explained everything we were shortly placed into the foster care system we were both taken to live with this Jamaican lady in the South of London in a very dangerous borough.
Now this lady was the worst and always treating me bad but was nice to my brother-I don't know what her problem was but she constantly told my social workers and tried to make it seem as though I was a bad child always I was very quiet introverted and stayed in my room for most of the time since all these people were strangers to me. She then kicked me out one day and my social workers had to find me another career and when they did they told I'll be seeing my brother once every 2 weeks and now I especially feel some type of way about this.
Children my age live with their younger siblings and get to see them everyday they wake up but I'm restricted from seeing him and only given 2 weeks
Now one day my social worker sits me down and has serious news to tell me she says that my brother is autistic and now immediately when I hear this I panic and started to break down but she says everything will be okay but it really won't
Now fast forward 5 more years and I'm 18 and my brother is 7 I've already left the system and my brother's still in it and lives with this caadan lady until his father's assessments are done and he can go and live with him which I advocate for aswell
It seems all the adults in my life just don't understand where I'm coming from social workers don't really care what's going on with me and my family sides with my mother despite them witnessing my abuse and their only justification is 'she your mother and the key to jannah is underneath her feet'
worst part is when I used to do shopping with my foster carers or out in public with them I'll have Somali aunties eyeing me down as If I've done something wrong and internally I feel as though I'm the one in the wrong. And every Somali person I tell my story to they side with my mother and posted my story on a islam subreddit to get some islamic guidance and I did get good advice but other were saying they beg allah they don't curse people with children like me all in all very strange.
I've failed myself and my brother and I seem him regularly but I just wish his situation was a lot better and from the day he was born to our current predicament
just like the adults in my life have failed me. I have failed him
I remember my grandma taking me to visit my mother in the hospital after my brother's birth they even let me hold my new sibling I couldn't be any happier at that moment but little did I know my life would change drastically
My mother was the root of it all-I wasn't blessed with the best mother she had extreme anger issues and very sadistic it seemed everyday she beat me to a pulp she got some sort of satisfaction from it from punching to biting to beating me with knives and all sorts. Everyday I asked god what did I do to be the son of a witch- I'm better off dead. I asked for death for a while and mind you I'm 8-10 years old. Both her and my aunt my mother took care of my physical abuse while my aunt verbally abused me and made me feel worthless I remember one time at 11 she s*xually abused me I won't go into detail but only a few people in my personal life know about this
This gives you a perspective on the type of household I grew up in and now I certainly wouldn't want my brother to experience such a life I first ran away from home with my brother at 13 and he was 2 turning 3 after witnessing my mother strangling him and that's what made me make up my mind after I ran away we were found by the police and when I explained everything we were shortly placed into the foster care system we were both taken to live with this Jamaican lady in the South of London in a very dangerous borough.
Now this lady was the worst and always treating me bad but was nice to my brother-I don't know what her problem was but she constantly told my social workers and tried to make it seem as though I was a bad child always I was very quiet introverted and stayed in my room for most of the time since all these people were strangers to me. She then kicked me out one day and my social workers had to find me another career and when they did they told I'll be seeing my brother once every 2 weeks and now I especially feel some type of way about this.
Children my age live with their younger siblings and get to see them everyday they wake up but I'm restricted from seeing him and only given 2 weeks
Now one day my social worker sits me down and has serious news to tell me she says that my brother is autistic and now immediately when I hear this I panic and started to break down but she says everything will be okay but it really won't
Now fast forward 5 more years and I'm 18 and my brother is 7 I've already left the system and my brother's still in it and lives with this caadan lady until his father's assessments are done and he can go and live with him which I advocate for aswell
It seems all the adults in my life just don't understand where I'm coming from social workers don't really care what's going on with me and my family sides with my mother despite them witnessing my abuse and their only justification is 'she your mother and the key to jannah is underneath her feet'
worst part is when I used to do shopping with my foster carers or out in public with them I'll have Somali aunties eyeing me down as If I've done something wrong and internally I feel as though I'm the one in the wrong. And every Somali person I tell my story to they side with my mother and posted my story on a islam subreddit to get some islamic guidance and I did get good advice but other were saying they beg allah they don't curse people with children like me all in all very strange.
I've failed myself and my brother and I seem him regularly but I just wish his situation was a lot better and from the day he was born to our current predicament
just like the adults in my life have failed me. I have failed him
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