There are wounds that do not show on the surface. There are wounds that a woman carries into every room she enters, into every relationship she builds, into the most private corners of her own body and mind, and yet no one around her sees them because they were inflicted before she was old enough to understand what was being taken from her.
Female genital mutilation, referred to in many Nigerian communities as female circumcision, is one of the most widespread and least discussed forms of gender-based violence practiced on the African continent. Nigeria has one of the highest absolute numbers of affected women in the world, with an estimated 19 to 20 million women and girls living with the consequences of this practice.
What Is FGM?
The World Health Organization defines female genital mutilation as all procedures involving the partial or total removal of the external female genitalia or other injury to the female genital organs for non-medical reasons. It is classified into four types, ranging from partial removal of the clitoris to the most severe form, which involves the near-total sealing of the vaginal opening.
In many Igbo communities, the practice is traditionally performed on infant girls or very young children, often within the first few weeks of life. This means that the woman has no memory of the procedure itself. What she inherits instead is a lifetime of physical complications including chronic pain, difficult menstruation, complications during childbirth, and in many cases the complete loss of sexual sensation. The psychological consequences including anxiety, depression, and trauma responses are equally severe and far less often acknowledged.
Why Is It Still Practiced?
The persistence of FGM is rooted in a combination of cultural identity, marriageability concerns, and deeply embedded beliefs about female sexuality and morality. In communities where the practice is normalized, an uncircumcised girl may be considered unclean, promiscuous, or unmarriageable. Mothers who refuse to have their daughters cut risk social exclusion not just for themselves but for their children.
This social pressure is one of the most insidious aspects of the practice. It is not always men who enforce it. It is often women, grandmothers, aunts, and mothers, women who were themselves cut as infants, who perpetuate the cycle out of love, fear, and a genuine belief that they are protecting their daughters.
The Story Behind The Crimson Covenant
The Crimson Covenant was written to explore what happens when a woman finally connects the physical and emotional complications of her adult life to a ritual she never consented to as an infant. The protagonist’s journey, her confrontation with her mother, her reckoning with the village elders, and her determination to break the cycle for the next generation, is an act of radical self-reclamation.
It is also a story about the complexity of loving the people who have harmed you. The mother in this story is not a monster. She is a product of the same system that produced her daughter’s suffering. And that, perhaps, is the most painful and most important part of the conversation.
The Change That Is Coming
Nigeria officially banned FGM under the Violence Against Persons Prohibition Act of 2015. Yet enforcement remains inconsistent, and in many rural communities the law has not yet reached the doorstep where the harm occurs. The work of NGOs, community health workers, and survivor advocates continues to be essential in translating legislation into lived reality.
Every conversation matters. Every story told matters. Because silence has never protected anyone.
The Crimson Covenant is a story about breaking that silence.
