Author, speaker and advocate Shama Shams knows there is always light in the darkness, even if you have to imagine it for yourself. She is recognized in the Seattle area for her work in the nonprofit sector, but now she turns her energy toward writing and publishing her memoirs. The two are closely connected, though, as her past work for Real Escape from the Sex Trade sets the stage for the trials detailed in “She Called Me Throwaway: A Memoir.”
The book necessitates clear content warnings, as there are multiple scenes of abuse against minors involving sexual and physical violence. Shams was a victim of abuse from a very young age, which in her memoir she depicts in just enough detail to turn your stomach while being careful to avoid specifics. Especially in the scenes of sexual violence, I appreciated the vagary of the adults’ actions and how Shams highlighted her own experiences, feelings and pains.
The harrowing reality Shams goes through is hard to read. She describes every aspect she remembers from her life, as young as a toddler, and slowly you find yourself in her shoes, when you’re hit with the darkness waiting in people. Her mother and uncle are only two of the perpetuators of violence, and witnessing the way familial bonds can be twisted and made to excuse cruelty is a painful, valuable lesson.
It’s hard not to sympathize and wince as you read Shams’ recollections of her childhood or the poetic descriptions of her imaginary friends attempting to distract her when horror looms. Equally awful is the way family members turn away from saving her.
As Shams grows up, however, she realizes the extent of the unnecessary pain she was put through, and her journey through therapy is given almost as much attention as the abuse she was subjected to as a child. Shams is able to process and understand that, as she writes, “there won’t be an ‘ah-ha’ moment, where all the abuse that I endured will make sense.” This sort of acceptance is a valuable lesson. We can learn and grow from the pain we endure, but it often happens for no reason other than people are cruel and the world is unfair.
There is a need for editing, as details will be introduced a few times as if they’re new each time, or over explained. Near the beginning, I felt innundated with specifics of a house’s arrangements or a list of relatives, but these were interspersed with fascinating looks into the rules behind Bangladeshi surnames or the immigration process, and considering the dark moments of the book, it was hard to complain about the few boring pages.
Ultimately, the honesty and vulnerability Shams displays in “She Called Me Throwaway,” by detailing each level of abuse and neglect she was the victim of throughout the years, makes it easy to look past the writing flaws and applaud her courage in recounting it at all, let alone for the general public.
Shams’ courage is only outshone by her fortitude. Her achievements in terms of her education, family and particularly work with other survivors become ever more impressive once you learn what she lived through and about this local activist in her own words.
Henry Behrens is the arts editor of Real Change. They handle the arts coverage and design the weekly print paper. Contact them at [email protected].
Read more of the Feb. 21–27, 2024 issue.