They said I was confused. Doctors used softer words like delusional and disoriented, but the message was the same: no one wanted to believe me. The day I was escorted into the psychiatric wing, I realized how easily truth can be locked away when it makes powerful people uncomfortable.
I wasn’t screaming. I wasn’t violent. I was calm too calm, they said for a woman claiming to know secrets that were never meant to surface.
It began with whispers I overheard as a cleaner in a government-linked compound. Conversations stopped when I entered rooms. Files disappeared after I touched them.…CONTINUE READING