I write it with all humility;
This page was honestly not created to bring additional sales but simply because on this site I feel at home, it's a bit like my cocoon, so I decided to teach you how to discover me really
You may or may not have known me as Djenaprv;
Some people familiarized me for the image that I transmitted, in order to follow me through my travels, also for my style, and many because of an accident;
But if through this shell that you see beyond social networks hides a real young woman who is strong and at the same time just as fragile;
I decided to tell you more about me;
Why don't I dedicate an autobiographical page of myself, I said to myself;
Because the others don't?
Because it's not a blog, a showcase or just an article!
In reality I like to be different, I like to be me and do what I like without necessarily telling myself that this is out of place because for me, we are free to decide for ourselves what is fair or not;
(Ps: Know that my professional confidence is not at all a reflection of my personal confidence, sometimes I thought to myself how can I be so strong but at the same time so weak, I ended up concluding that time will educate, life will teach me and trials will teach me to grow.)
Here I am currently lying on my left side facing the wall hand on my phone at 6:06 in the morning writing a short autobiography, which will certainly not be finished today but every day I will try to complete it;
Finally I introduce myself Djena Jérôme
I would like to tell you that my life has always been simple, fulfilling and full of joy, but to tell you that would be to lie and the purpose of my approach is not to make you read a fairy tale full of lies, so know that this page will only be reality;
Good reading
I was bad at spelling I warn you, but here you will have the privilege of discovering my Net improvement Lol.
Following an accident, writing for me was a therapy, the psychologist had asked me to tell about my childhood, so I am retransmitting here my first writings to then complete the rest of my biography;
Back to my childhood;
Born in 94 in Saint Mandé, I spent most of my early and young childhood in Drancy with my brother, my 3 sisters and my parents‚ at the time we lived in a small 25 m² apartment with a bedroom where we all slept together;
It all started with the death of one of my sisters‚ my father sank into alcoholism! nervous by nature he had now become violent, towards my mother my brothers and sisters
As well as myself;
Violent ! Violence that I could only describe to you at the limit;
Young child I see my brother being beaten in the back with cables whose ends are covered with iron;
He took all sorts of elements that he could have on hand and that he managed to capture suitably that could seize us;
Whip after whip nothing stopped our father the sight of blood on his so young son clearly did not frighten him, long open scars the blood raw;
The image was of a child being beaten with a whip but what was the motive?
Maybe there was a good reason.
Unfortunately, there is no one that justifies this kind of act!
No reason can justify such violence, dad got angry when he couldn't find what he was looking for ‚and accused us of having hidden it, my mother as well as ourselves!
sometimes he had conflicts outside and he put the blame on us or other completely absurd reasons;
Why would we do that?
Why would we hide our father's things?
We know full well that with each problem he encounters we bear the brunt of his anger;
All day scared of him coming in was my feeling...
Hearing the door creak open and then seeing him walk through the landing was my nightmare!
What will happen today?
When he was there we didn't dare talk about having fun or anything else for fear of doing something that he didn't dislike;
When he spoke to us we spoke
A clear answer!
We paid attention to every word that came out of our mouths...
Beaten yes we were a beaten family.
Beaten with a ban on complaining, crying, or expressing any feelings of pain during and after the penalty!
,because if we cried or showed our feelings our fate would only be aggravated!
keeping and suffering inside is what we were educated to!
Child we were only children;
Tear, pain, seeing loved ones suffer what suffering what to do.
My strength is not developed enough for me to intervene!
seeing my little family shop the pains was just as painful to me as when it was me who was suffering them
I know each time what they feel at the present moment! this feeling of coldness which is at the same time just as burning,
The heart throbbing waiting for the next blows, the teeth clenching the breath cut
Hoping that every action would be the last, The headache of storing pain,
Any member of my family who went there I knew at that time what they were feeling!
but what to do why,?
Why is daddy hurting us so much?
How does he manage to make us suffer his fate while we are his own children?
His own dear, are own blood,?
How can he?
I can see my mother pulling by her hair outside the house!
seeing my father knocking over a bottle of beer so much said what is hardly to dress..
getting a bottle of beer smashed in the face, and being able to distinguish one of his teeth through the glass!
the passers-by don't dare to help him, not wanting this wet and preferring to act as if they don't see war,
Leave my mother?, stop stop it's too much?, what we could have said?
Our young age our fear...
Full of reasons why we didn't dare to intervene even if we were overflowing with desire to do so, we could never have expressed the feeling of a person seeking to intervene or to bring help, because if we did, he would only added to this list of people on whom to let off steam,
Many women came by the house, we knew it was dad's metraisse and he made no secret of it, he went into the bedroom, sometimes she greeted us and my mother,
Mom used to tell us to cover our ears so we couldn't hear anything,
And we made him believe that we heard nothing,
She cared more about us than her how she felt,
(I would like to tell you more but my mother's privacy comes into play a lot so I prefer to preserve it)
I see my 2 year old sister unable to say words distinctly due to her young age,
See her rush for the simple reason that she couldn't express herself explicitly,
How can such a big man have the strength of age, he let off steam on a two-year-old child for the simple fact that she can't express a word clearly.
Why us?, for me?, why?
When is this all going to end?
Me!
Yes me!
What about me?, all this violence I was not just a spectator, I also suffered them,
I remember the day my father couldn't find his bandana anymore!
Having barely looked, he turns to me and says
Diena where is my bandana
he liked to put bandanas under his caps,
This type of question I know them and the rest I know too!
What can I say other than "I don't know"
Automatically my immediate reflex is to help him in his search for the bandana, And hope from the bottom of my heart of my soul that one thing can find it!
5.10 minutes of searching and still no bandana!
Come here, said daddy to me. (He was sitting on the sofa, I stood right in front of him)
Where did you put my bandana?
What more can you say than "I didn't take it, I don't know, have you found it?
- stop lying he said ‚ who took it then?
My body automatically panicked! Daddy I swear I don't know! yes I swallowed my tears began to rise alone without flowing my heart shuddered,
who took it I told you!
What to say? what to say not knowing where are are bandana!
I still can't accuse a wrong person to get rid of it!
My answer remained the same! Daddy I don't know where he is!
He started slapping me in the face, slap on slap, always asking me the same questions!
You don't want to swing you'll see you today you want to cover them you'll see what it's like to lie..
and yet I really did not know where he was, and I would have done everything to find him
He took a connection cable and started whipping me, again and again, always asking his questions!
Daddy please stop I don't know crying
Your g..... that's who I told you I don't want to hear you...
He hit me until the urge passed, then I was punished at the corner of the door standing head against the wall..
tired not tired,
I think he couldn't care less about how I felt!, at this precise moment the only thing that interested him was his bandana,
Our schooling school?
The school? Yes I was going..
Sometimes he forgot to pick us up and one of the metraises drop us off.
During all these school periods our clothes hid our wounds, we had no right to complain to anyone because if dad knew For us it would have been twice as bad
I know what you're thinking right now, and school? The teacher? The directors?
With time they knew it, the school was aware of all these misdeeds
, being themselves filled with compassion and sadness in this small office on the ground floor, all gathered together and scrutinized the ordeal and the disaster carried out on the back of an 8-year-old kid.
As soon as a report was made on their part
The cable marks could be felt on his back as we would have felt the relief aspect on a silk painting.
, but yet the nights followed and the ordeal continued without ever diminishing
Sometimes when we went outside and he was too violent, the passers-by called the police, he was taken away and sentenced to 3,4,6 months in prison, as soon as he left he hurried to return in order to avenge this on us, all the anger he had amassed during his stay he expressed it through the belt shots, ballai martiner,
We pay for the broken pot of his imprisonments
His months of imprisonment that he had done was clean of stretching,
All this resentment during this sentence he made us suffer, and beat us accordingly
One day my mother decided to run away with us, it was the end of a long suffering; Finally ! I said to myself.
Where were we going?
With our immediate family?
I would like to tell you that everything was so easy
But unfortunately it was not possible mama had actually asked for help from some person in our family but they would refuse for various reasons such as the large number of children, the lack of space, etc..
Unfortunately we had nowhere to go without business or anything we find ourselves sleeping outside in halls, corridors ....
Staircase of the hospital of bondy in the 93, mom back against the wall, my head on these knees my brothers and sister also found themselves leading a totally different life!
What is this life?
It's this homeless life hard to believe I was homeless I know! however it is the reality and the days direction followed it was the same things to do what to do?
Return to the house where we were expected in order to suffer further violence?
No, it was better for us to stay on the street even if we suffered another type of pain, it was always less worse than seeing my brothers and sister and my mother beaten until they were incapacitated,
Time passed one day a young man holding our hand
It's finally the day of deliverance, All of this will finally be behind us!!
He asked us if we had any money? All we had left was a hundred euros to be able to feed the next week!
He offered us what we had left in exchange for his apartment that we should furnish,
But who is this benevolent man who brings us the good news
It's finally the end the real end, I would finally have my home with my family that I love so much together a real roof a young child very happy to be able to start a new life,
We arrive in our new apartment he opened the door, the apartment was not very bright the paint was pinkish white very small it was a small studio on the ground floor but it was enough for us,
Our first night finally we slept on the floor hugging each other like we used to do,
So happy happy to finally start this new life what more could we ask for we fell asleep
In the morning at 8 o'clock the door knocked louder and louder
Is it the owner?
Is our. Father ?
Who could it be We're only having our first night right now Scared we dare not speak
Until we heard police open
Hey police but why the police were there
We opened the door, And the police came in,
What happened we wondered?
Then the police charged us,!
accused my mother of having entered this apartment by force ‚ as well as of having sheltered us there so much as said that it did not belong to us
My mother justified herself and explained to them that the owner had rented it to us the day before,
An owner who was at the back came in to say no no this apartment belongs to me and I did not rent this apartment to you!!
Hey but what's going on with this man saying the real owner does not look like the one with whom we concluded the agreement!
The police asked for the papers,
My mother explained to them that he had offered to wait until today to sign the apartment contract as we were tired!
tears we quickly understood that we had our last euro cheated
The rest we had left we had it stolen by an unhealthy person
The police believed us, but took us out of the apartment, we wore without complaint Because what was the point? How will he find a man who left no trace
Without name without first name or traceability,
Alas Back to homeless life,
But not for long because to my great joy, people in our family decided to shelter us,
direction Houilles in the 78
To tell you the truth, we only spent a few months there,
Mom had started steps in parallel with the social worker to help us be relocated safely,
But unfortunately within our family everything became very complicated so we had to leave once again,
For what?
My mom explained to me because I didn't remember at all
That often we called our aunt to tell her why it is at your place that Khady and her children are staying, does she not have closer family..
So all these noises caused a lot of weswes,
so mom to avoid any conflict decided to leave on her own with my brothers and sisters
To this unstable life sincerely we had gotten used to it,
27 comments
As’Salamu Aعleykoum ma sœur, je viens de lire l’autobiographie…
Comment te dire que je suis troublée ? Troubler car je me retrouve totalement dans ces écrits. Car j’ai vécu des choses similaires aux tiennes. Car au delà des épreuves, on ne montre que ce que l’on veut sur les réseaux de nous mêmes. Car les personnes qui souffrent sont tjrs les plus souriantes Subhanالله. Car les personnes qui souffrent, c’est celles qui veulent tjrs aider les autres. Le cerveau a souvent tendance à mettre la faute sur une raison quelconque pour se rassurer et se protéger. J’aurais aimé te dire que son comportement provient de la douleur d’avoir perdu 1 de ses filles الله y rahma même si rien ne justifie de tel acte. Mais comme toi, j’ai aimé justifier les souffrances que j’ai vécu sur plein de choses. Sache que ta famille et toi êtes très fort et vous revenez de loin Al Hāmdu LiLlāh. Ne doutes jamais de toi. Bats toi pour le meilleur et regarde simplement tont parcours quand tu te sens au plus bas. Pris الله et rappel toi qu’Il n’éprouve que ces meilleurs croyants Al Hāmdu LiLlāh. Cette petite autobiographie me rassure sur le fait de me dire que j’ai bien fait de t’avoir offert le livre que j’ai écris en espérant que tu l’ai bien reçu In Shaa الله. Savoir que tu n’es pas seule fait du bien. Savoir qu’on se reconnaît chez d’autre fait du bien.
Qu’الله fasse de ces souffrances une entrée au Paradis pr ta famille et toi et fasse de vous des croyants soumis à الله jusqu’à la fin de notre vie sur Terre. Qu’الله nous garde sur son chemin et nous pardonne nos péchés. Qu’الله guide nos papas… et fasse d’eux des meilleurs personnes ! Malgré tout il fait garder espoirs qu’الله les aidera… La vie du vrais croyant est remplis d’embûches. Rappel toi que Dûnya est la prison du croyant. En espérant que tu prennes confiance en toi un peu plus chaque jour, qu’الله fasse que ton mari t’épaules jusqu’à ta mort et qu’il soit l’épaule sur laquelle te reposer quand ça n’ira pas. Bisous ma soeur et tout le bonheur du monde 🤍
Trop triste. Qu’Allah viennent en aide à toutes les familles qui vivent la peur au ventre avec un membre de leur famille qui les violentes. C’est inhumain
Je ne sais pas quoi dire tellement je suis émue vraiment ton histoire ma trop touchée j’espère que ton père a payé pour tout ça et que tes proches mène une vie paisible QuAllah vous garde et vous préserve à jamais ❤️
J’ai déjà eu le privilège de lire via ton canal telegram mais c’est toujours aussi touchant et intéressant ,je t’envoi toute ma force tu est très courageuse . Merci de nous faire confiance en nous partageant un bout de ton vécu
Bravo 🎊 franchement ça fait plaisir prend de soin quallah te préserve Aimine ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Courage
Je viens de lire une partie de ta biographie et je t’envoie toute ma force pour ses dure moment que toi et ta famille avait traversée ta maman et une femme forte 💕 Tu et passée sans doute par des moments tellement compliquer Allah éprouve les croyant qu’ils aime ton présent d’aujourd’hui et le résultat de la patience dont tu as fait preuve toute ses dure année Qu’Allah fructifie ton commerce et qu’il facilite ta maman je t’aime ✨