"Pain is a pesky part of being human; I’ve learned it feels like a stab wound to the heart, something I wish we could all do without, in our lives here. Pain is a sudden hurt that can’t be escaped. But then I have also learned that because of pain, I can feel the beauty, tenderness, and freedom of healing. Pain feels like a fast stab wound to the heart. But then hea...ling feels like the wind against your face when you are spreading your wings and flying through the air! We may not have wings growing out of our backs, but healing is the closest thing that will give us that wind against our faces.”
C. Joybell C.
Nobody knew how I felt; nobody understood the amount of atrocities performed on me when I was just a child. I was just an innocent child who never applied to be born. I often wondered why was I expected to deal with all of the heaviness bestowed upon me. I was never one to sit and thing about the past for it made me angry. I was an angry wan.
Why was I not protected from the monsters that violated me; those that scraped my innocence off from my life? Wherever I went, they would haunt. Whichever relationship I ended up in, they were part of it. My mother who should have been my nurturer and protector, instead was part of the evil that I had to endure as an innocent child.
"You are such a curse you know, I don't know why I didn't kill myself when I was carrying you."
These were the words I had to repeatedly hear my mother utter to me when I was a kid. My mother was raped by her uncle when she was sixteen and thus fell pregnant with me. Because of her pregnancy, she lived her life as an outcast in her community. She was treated badly and was cursed by her parents for trying to bring the family name to shame. They believed that she tried to conceal her foolishness by "framing" her uncle.
My mother moved out of her village to a township when she turned 20 years old. She never got married and stayed in a small house. Throughout my childhood, I never understood what my mom did for work but we always had money.
I believed that she was a very social and friendly woman as she always had men coming over to our house with some of them giving me weird stares. I would feel a cold chill every time they looked at me. I was never allowed to sit with them and was sent outside when they came over. Sometimes I would have to sleep outside because the men would sleep over. In all my life, I had never seen my mother smile or tell me that she loved me. We hardly had happy moments and would often wonder why my mother was such a thorn to me whilst other mothers around me were so loving and nurturing. I would have given anything to feel what it felt like to be loved. It was impossible for my mother to love as she was filled with anger and bitterness and she would give me a beating at any opportunity she got.
I remember one day when I had my first menstruation, I was about 14 years old, and I did not understand what it was. I could not stop bleeding and I tried to hide it from her. I used up newspapers but I messed all over and she discovered. She beat me up so badly that I could hardly tell which blood belonged where. After a week, my mom told me that we needed to have a chat.
"You are a woman now and you can't continue living for free. You need to eat your keep in my house. I have been taking care of you and I am tired. I need to be paid back"
The following day we went to the local clinic and she told the nurses that I was menstruating and she did not want me to fall pregnant so they needed to start me off on a contraception. I got an injection from the clinic. I did not understand what was happening to me. The more I asked, the more she would hurl insults at me.
A few weeks later, a man came over to our house; I had never seen this man before. He walked into the kitchen and as he sat down, I stood up to leave as usual. My mother told me to sit down.
“So this is the fresh meat I hear you are selling” he said.
My mother told me to go to the bedroom to take a bath and wrap myself in a towel and notify her as soon as I was done. I tried asking her why she was asking me to do this. She simply told me not to question her. I remember feeling my heart thump so fast, it rushed all the way to my throat. I could not breathe. Thoughts raced through my head: “What is happening to me? “.
I did as my mom had asked because defying her only meant harsh punishment. She came to check on me after I had bathed and took out my bathing dish. She gently dried my body and brushed my hairZ She told me to lie on the bed as she sprayed some perfume all over me. I always admired her perfume but on that day, I knew that the scent would haunt my entire life.
To be continued
#DearDiary #AnnahsDiary Post 2
He was wearing a blue t-s...hirt with a brown withered leather jacket. His pants were black and shiny. I noticed every crease on his pants. I was laying on the bed when he unbuckled his belt.
He looked at me with haughty eyes while he kicked his lips.
"This is going to be fun my child, just relax."
He climbed the bed and on his knees, took his jacket and t-shirt off. He touched me and I felt lightning leave hell to pierce into our roof and enter my body. I physically resisted him and started crying. He was getting irritated so he slapped me and told me to shut up.
"I have paid good money for this and you are not going to spoil it for me. Try your tricks and you will be sorry my child."
He started kissing me and his saliva was all over my face and had a pungent smell to it. His armpits had a strong smell which almost swallowed the scent of the perfume my mother sprayed on me. As he lay on top of me, he pulled my legs apart and I immediately felt something sharp stabbing me. I screamed at the top of my voice. It was the most painful feeling I had ever felt up to that point.
His sweaty body all over me. His sweat racing from his earlobe creating a trail until it fell on my chest.
I stopped crying and all you could hear was his heavy breathing. He reached all the way to my core and pulled out every ounce of life I had. His breathing slowed down and he dropped his head on my head. At that moment, I physically felt something leave him and enter me. I knew from then that my life was never going to be the same.
After that day, what happened became a regular occurrence in my life. Men came and chewed bits and pieces of my soul. Crushing whatever was left of my life. I eventually got used to it and sometimes enjoyed it. By the time I was seventeen, I started getting men without my mother’s knowledge so that I could save money to run away. I read glossy magazines to escape from this trauma. The life in magazines was always glamorous. That was the only way I could deal with the pain I was living through. I would imagine that I was that beautiful model with perfect skin. The more the men came, the deeper I delved into my fantasies.
One day my temperature was extremely high; it was a cold winter’s morning and I was as hot as coal. The clinic gave me antibiotics and I was fine within a week and it was business as normal. Two months later I realised that I was gaining weight and my menses were late twice in a row. I have never paid attention to my bodily changes during my menses so I did not understand what was going on with me. My mother and I imagine that the fever had returned and I returned to the clinic alone this time around. She did not have time to be carrying me around like a burden.
It was quite the long walk to the clinic. Because I was saving up money, I limited how much I spent. If I could save money, I did and taking a taxi would be costly. When I got to the clinic, I waited for about four hours before the nurse could see me. She asked me questions around my sexual behaviour. I could not answer because I was ashamed at what she would think of me.
"You have to be honest with me in order to assist you. Are you and your partner using condoms during sexual intercourse?"
I always tried to use a condom but sometimes the men paid more if you did not use a condom.
The nurse started talking to me about HIV and AIDS. The more she spoke, the more I realised I should be scared but I was numb and felt nothing. She asked if we could do a pregnancy test and a HIV test as well. I was not phased and so I agreed. She took my urine sample and while waiting for the results she did the HIV rapid test. Out of nowhere I felt my heart beat out of control. My palms became sweaty and started to worry. I looked at her face and she looked uncomfortable.
"Sister what's wrong? Why do you look worried? What are the results saying?"
Tears streamed down my face as I expected the worst.
To be continued
"Sister what's wrong? Why do you look worried? What are the results saying?"
Tears streamed down my face as I expected the worst. ...
"You are pregnant." She said with a very concerned voice.
All I did was nod and acknowledge what she had said.
"Thank you sister"
I wiped my tears off with both my hands. I felt as if my world was disappearing right in front of my eyes. I was convinced that this was a punishment for all my sins. I didn’t know what I would do with the thing that was inside of me. I was devastated and I wanted to get rid of it, it was not mine and it was conceived out of filth. After a brief history intake with the nurse, she explained that the antibiotic might have overridden the contraceptive. All I could think about was my mother and her reaction. I was sure that she would want to get rid of it.
The road towards home was a very long one. Many thoughts invaded my mind. I wished I could drink something that would remove all my woes. I got home and told my mother what the nurse had told me.
"I'm pregnant. The nurse said it's because of the first medication I was given. I'm sorry but I will abort it immediately"
Awaiting a lashing or a hurl of angry words from my mother, she shockingly took me by surprise.
"You will do no such thing"
She refused and told me that I was to carry this child and that I had no right to make a decision on a human being’s life. I was shocked because this was the first time in my entire life that I had experienced a drop of human and emotion from my mother. I was not happy with her decision for me as I had to be the one who carried this thing with me. Months dragged and I could still do business up until the third month. Some men would see that I was pregnant and would still request my services. My mother risked losing their business as she would refuse with me. She would call them disgusting for even wanting to do that to me.
It was strange as my mother was finally acting like the mother I needed. She protected me and started taking care of me.
Nine months passed by and I delivered a healthy baby girl. When they brought her to me, I did not want to look at her. I did not want to hold her or feel her. I wanted nothing to do with her and I refused to breast feed her. I do not know what this baby did but somehow, my mom warmed up to her. She even named her and minded her. This infuriated me as my mother could not be a mother to me but she had the nerve to try and act as a mother towards that filthy baby. She tried her best to take care of the baby but she also asked our neighbour to assist us. The neighbour would beg that I breast feed the baby and I would refuse. This often resulted in endless beatings from my mother but I wanted nothing to do with that child. I could not take living under the same roof with that child and every night when she cried, anger would mount like a volcano threatening to erupt and I knew that I had to leave.
I had to leave before I did something I would pay harshly for. I would imagine and devise plans of how I would stage the baby’s death and that started scaring me because I was not sure what I was capable of so I had to leave.
The next morning, I took a bus to town and then another bus to Johannesburg. I had no plans and I did not know anyone there but I would see what to do when I got there. I was fine with the uncertainty that even living in the streets was better than having to bear that baby cry another day. I finally got to Johannesburg and although I did not know what the future held, I was excited about a new page in my life. I was overcome with emotions; I shed some tears because I had never felt like that moment, ever. Happiness felt really great. The bus arrived at a station in Johannesburg. I sat by a nearby bench because I did not know where else to go.
Two hours later, a beautiful lady approached me. I had never seen anyone so beautiful as her. Her skin colour was dark as coffee and she had a pitch black afro and wore a beautiful purple floral dress.
She greeted me with a warm smile.
"Excuse me, are you Cindy?"
I shyly shook my head and she took a seat next to me. She started a conversation and told me how she was waiting to pick Cindy up to come and stay at the ladies’ residence around the corner. She asked questions about where I came from and what had brought me to Johannesburg.
I told her that my parents had died and I was in Johannesburg to look for my uncle. I told her that I did not know where to start and with the most gracious voice, she told me that I could stay at the residence until I found my uncle. I jumped up, overwhelmed with happiness, I screamed "Yes".
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
This made me so happy and without a shadow of doubt, I knew that I was meant to be in Johannesburg.
This is how my life in the city started.
To be continued...
Tears streamed down my face as I expected the worst. ...
"You are pregnant." She said with a very concerned voice.
All I did was nod and acknowledge what she had said.
"Thank you sister"
I wiped my tears off with both my hands. I felt as if my world was disappearing right in front of my eyes. I was convinced that this was a punishment for all my sins. I didn’t know what I would do with the thing that was inside of me. I was devastated and I wanted to get rid of it, it was not mine and it was conceived out of filth. After a brief history intake with the nurse, she explained that the antibiotic might have overridden the contraceptive. All I could think about was my mother and her reaction. I was sure that she would want to get rid of it.
The road towards home was a very long one. Many thoughts invaded my mind. I wished I could drink something that would remove all my woes. I got home and told my mother what the nurse had told me.
"I'm pregnant. The nurse said it's because of the first medication I was given. I'm sorry but I will abort it immediately"
Awaiting a lashing or a hurl of angry words from my mother, she shockingly took me by surprise.
"You will do no such thing"
She refused and told me that I was to carry this child and that I had no right to make a decision on a human being’s life. I was shocked because this was the first time in my entire life that I had experienced a drop of human and emotion from my mother. I was not happy with her decision for me as I had to be the one who carried this thing with me. Months dragged and I could still do business up until the third month. Some men would see that I was pregnant and would still request my services. My mother risked losing their business as she would refuse with me. She would call them disgusting for even wanting to do that to me.
It was strange as my mother was finally acting like the mother I needed. She protected me and started taking care of me.
Nine months passed by and I delivered a healthy baby girl. When they brought her to me, I did not want to look at her. I did not want to hold her or feel her. I wanted nothing to do with her and I refused to breast feed her. I do not know what this baby did but somehow, my mom warmed up to her. She even named her and minded her. This infuriated me as my mother could not be a mother to me but she had the nerve to try and act as a mother towards that filthy baby. She tried her best to take care of the baby but she also asked our neighbour to assist us. The neighbour would beg that I breast feed the baby and I would refuse. This often resulted in endless beatings from my mother but I wanted nothing to do with that child. I could not take living under the same roof with that child and every night when she cried, anger would mount like a volcano threatening to erupt and I knew that I had to leave.
I had to leave before I did something I would pay harshly for. I would imagine and devise plans of how I would stage the baby’s death and that started scaring me because I was not sure what I was capable of so I had to leave.
The next morning, I took a bus to town and then another bus to Johannesburg. I had no plans and I did not know anyone there but I would see what to do when I got there. I was fine with the uncertainty that even living in the streets was better than having to bear that baby cry another day. I finally got to Johannesburg and although I did not know what the future held, I was excited about a new page in my life. I was overcome with emotions; I shed some tears because I had never felt like that moment, ever. Happiness felt really great. The bus arrived at a station in Johannesburg. I sat by a nearby bench because I did not know where else to go.
Two hours later, a beautiful lady approached me. I had never seen anyone so beautiful as her. Her skin colour was dark as coffee and she had a pitch black afro and wore a beautiful purple floral dress.
She greeted me with a warm smile.
"Excuse me, are you Cindy?"
I shyly shook my head and she took a seat next to me. She started a conversation and told me how she was waiting to pick Cindy up to come and stay at the ladies’ residence around the corner. She asked questions about where I came from and what had brought me to Johannesburg.
I told her that my parents had died and I was in Johannesburg to look for my uncle. I told her that I did not know where to start and with the most gracious voice, she told me that I could stay at the residence until I found my uncle. I jumped up, overwhelmed with happiness, I screamed "Yes".
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
This made me so happy and without a shadow of doubt, I knew that I was meant to be in Johannesburg.
This is how my life in the city started.
To be continued...
Cindy arrived and along with her, I was taken into the ladies residence. The place did not look that good but I was not in a position to complain. I was grateful that I had been taken in. The beautiful lady told the house mothers to temporarily house me until I got in touch with my uncle. On one floor, there was about nine rooms for the ladies. The rooms were very s...mall, enough to fit in two single beds and one wardrobe. There was a commune bathroom down the hall with eight toilets and four showers. The ventilation was not good and there was a pungent smell that came from outside. Cindy and I got told never to open the windows as our room was at the back of the building. The beautiful lady owned the building and provided residence for destitute young ladies. Most of the ladies who stayed there were ladies who were used in the sex trade by pimps. She would convince the ladies to leave their pimps and to move into the building while she tried to help them out of the situation. Apparently she had been a sex worker herself due to circumstance and not by choice. When she could do something about it, she swore never to allow anyone to experience what she had.
When I heard this about her I decided to talk to her about why I came to Johannesburg. She was extremely graceful and her beauty inspired my heart. She was gentle and was able to make you feel that you were the only person who existed in her life. She made us feel like we mattered. No matter how much I tried, I just could not bring myself to telling her the truth. I eventually told her that I was unable to locate my uncle and that I was scared that I had no one to go to. She was extremely understanding. I got taken in as a permanent resident and was registered into a school the following year where I would have the opportunity to complete my matric.
Because of my desire to see my glossy magazine dreams come well, I worked really hard during my matric year. I watched the ladies around me run back to their pimps and get involved in drugs. I was bullied for being a goodie shoes but I was determined to do well and because of where I came from, I was extremely aloof. My aloofness helped me stay away from trouble. I remember one night we had gone out with Cindy to watch a movie at the Kine centre. Instead of us watching the movie, we were picked up by two men who were driving a garnet red Audi A5. It was the most beautiful car I had ever seen. It had a black leather interior and I swear I felt like I was floating on clouds when I was inside. The two men smelled so good and looked like they had lots of money. I had never seen anything like this. These men were tall, dark and very handsome. Where I came from, the men were short, ugly and old.
"So who is this friend of yours?"
"Her name is Annah. She's a bit rural and boring so I want to show her what a good time is"
I heard them laugh and I felt extremely nervous but excited at the same time. We sat at the back of the car and drove to a place called Melrose Arch. I was in awe as I looked outside the window and the lights illuminated my heart. At that moment, at that very hour. I felt as if I was living my glossy magazine dreams. Everything around me happened as it looked in the magazine. The cars, the lights and the buildings. I was in awe.
We had supper at a restaurant and the men started buying us drinks. I really did not want to drink but they told me that I would be fine. I had my first glass of wine and by the second glass I felt numb and happy. I can barely remember my third glass of wine and anything else that happened that night. I opened my eyes the next morning and I felt as if a train had ran over me. Before I could blink I felt my stomach turn and I knew I needed to get to the bathroom. The only problem was that I was in a room I did not recognise. I was submerged in a white duvet and when I looked to my right I saw a lamp stand and above me was a beautiful chandelier light. I sat up and felt like someone had packed bricks in my head. I was so dizzy, it all felt like a dream. I got up from the bed and as I tried to walk to the bathroom, I felt some discomfort pain in my private part. I ran to the bathroom and hung on to the toilet as I threw up. I was confused and felt horrible. I rinsed my mouth and went back to the bed and found Cindy sleeping there as well. I shook her so hard asking her to wake up.
"Cindy, cindy - wake up"
"What???"
"Cindy what is going on? What are we doing here?"
"Eish maan uyahlupha yazi - can I just sleep"
I left her alone and decided to wait for her to wake up. I took a bath and put my clothes on and sat at the edge of the bed while I waited for her to wake up. I was speechless and no thoughts ran through my mind. She woke up after two hours and told me that we needed to get out of there as it was nearly check out time. She rinsed her face and put on her clothes and we left. She called a taxi from her cell phone and it was waiting for us when we got out of the hotel building. She took out her wallet and handed me money
"Here is your share from last night"
"My share what do you mean?"
"Ha ha ha, stick with me darling and I will soon whip that rural life out of you. Open up your eyes. This is jozi maboneng. Land of opportunity"
Something about all of that was not right and I felt uncomfortable. We stopped at a chemist before going back to the residence and she got some emergency pills for me. She told me that since she doesn't know what I got up to and how, it's better to be safe than sorry. At that moment, everything that happened back home flashed right in my face. I could not believe I came all the way to Johannesburg to live the life that I had ran away from. This is not what it looked like in the glossy magazines. I vowed from that day never to give in to Cindy or find myself in such a situation. I wanted to pass really well at school and go to university even if my life depended on it.
I got called in by the beautiful lady as the house mothers told her what we were up to. She was furious and screamed at the top of her voice. I had never seen her like that before or imagined she could ever get like that.
"Do you want to end up dead in the streets with all manner of diseases huh? I took you in and this is how you behave? Please ngwanyana toe, there are a lot of girls who could do with your bed. I am so disappointed"
She cried and told me to go back to my room. Seeing her like that broke me to pieces and I swore never to let her down again. I was determined to make her proud of me.
As months passed, I kept to myself. Cindy left the residence and I got paired with another girl. I refused to interact with her as I focused on my school work. That year I passed my matric well with four distinctions and was awarded a bursary to study at a credible university. And so another part of my life started. No one was ever ready with how my university years would pan out.
To be continued
When I heard this about her I decided to talk to her about why I came to Johannesburg. She was extremely graceful and her beauty inspired my heart. She was gentle and was able to make you feel that you were the only person who existed in her life. She made us feel like we mattered. No matter how much I tried, I just could not bring myself to telling her the truth. I eventually told her that I was unable to locate my uncle and that I was scared that I had no one to go to. She was extremely understanding. I got taken in as a permanent resident and was registered into a school the following year where I would have the opportunity to complete my matric.
Because of my desire to see my glossy magazine dreams come well, I worked really hard during my matric year. I watched the ladies around me run back to their pimps and get involved in drugs. I was bullied for being a goodie shoes but I was determined to do well and because of where I came from, I was extremely aloof. My aloofness helped me stay away from trouble. I remember one night we had gone out with Cindy to watch a movie at the Kine centre. Instead of us watching the movie, we were picked up by two men who were driving a garnet red Audi A5. It was the most beautiful car I had ever seen. It had a black leather interior and I swear I felt like I was floating on clouds when I was inside. The two men smelled so good and looked like they had lots of money. I had never seen anything like this. These men were tall, dark and very handsome. Where I came from, the men were short, ugly and old.
"So who is this friend of yours?"
"Her name is Annah. She's a bit rural and boring so I want to show her what a good time is"
I heard them laugh and I felt extremely nervous but excited at the same time. We sat at the back of the car and drove to a place called Melrose Arch. I was in awe as I looked outside the window and the lights illuminated my heart. At that moment, at that very hour. I felt as if I was living my glossy magazine dreams. Everything around me happened as it looked in the magazine. The cars, the lights and the buildings. I was in awe.
We had supper at a restaurant and the men started buying us drinks. I really did not want to drink but they told me that I would be fine. I had my first glass of wine and by the second glass I felt numb and happy. I can barely remember my third glass of wine and anything else that happened that night. I opened my eyes the next morning and I felt as if a train had ran over me. Before I could blink I felt my stomach turn and I knew I needed to get to the bathroom. The only problem was that I was in a room I did not recognise. I was submerged in a white duvet and when I looked to my right I saw a lamp stand and above me was a beautiful chandelier light. I sat up and felt like someone had packed bricks in my head. I was so dizzy, it all felt like a dream. I got up from the bed and as I tried to walk to the bathroom, I felt some discomfort pain in my private part. I ran to the bathroom and hung on to the toilet as I threw up. I was confused and felt horrible. I rinsed my mouth and went back to the bed and found Cindy sleeping there as well. I shook her so hard asking her to wake up.
"Cindy, cindy - wake up"
"What???"
"Cindy what is going on? What are we doing here?"
"Eish maan uyahlupha yazi - can I just sleep"
I left her alone and decided to wait for her to wake up. I took a bath and put my clothes on and sat at the edge of the bed while I waited for her to wake up. I was speechless and no thoughts ran through my mind. She woke up after two hours and told me that we needed to get out of there as it was nearly check out time. She rinsed her face and put on her clothes and we left. She called a taxi from her cell phone and it was waiting for us when we got out of the hotel building. She took out her wallet and handed me money
"Here is your share from last night"
"My share what do you mean?"
"Ha ha ha, stick with me darling and I will soon whip that rural life out of you. Open up your eyes. This is jozi maboneng. Land of opportunity"
Something about all of that was not right and I felt uncomfortable. We stopped at a chemist before going back to the residence and she got some emergency pills for me. She told me that since she doesn't know what I got up to and how, it's better to be safe than sorry. At that moment, everything that happened back home flashed right in my face. I could not believe I came all the way to Johannesburg to live the life that I had ran away from. This is not what it looked like in the glossy magazines. I vowed from that day never to give in to Cindy or find myself in such a situation. I wanted to pass really well at school and go to university even if my life depended on it.
I got called in by the beautiful lady as the house mothers told her what we were up to. She was furious and screamed at the top of her voice. I had never seen her like that before or imagined she could ever get like that.
"Do you want to end up dead in the streets with all manner of diseases huh? I took you in and this is how you behave? Please ngwanyana toe, there are a lot of girls who could do with your bed. I am so disappointed"
She cried and told me to go back to my room. Seeing her like that broke me to pieces and I swore never to let her down again. I was determined to make her proud of me.
As months passed, I kept to myself. Cindy left the residence and I got paired with another girl. I refused to interact with her as I focused on my school work. That year I passed my matric well with four distinctions and was awarded a bursary to study at a credible university. And so another part of my life started. No one was ever ready with how my university years would pan out.
To be continued
#DearDiary #AnnahsDiary Post 5
Disclaimer: I wrote this in a hurry - no editing. Please be nice to me. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I wrote this in a hurry - no editing. Please be nice to me. Enjoy!
My university years were amazing. I was popular amongst the boys and the attention I got from them made me feel special and wanted. With all this attention, I found power and control in knowing I could have sex whenever I wanted to. I craved and thought about sex all the time. I was in ...actual fact, obsessed with sex. I was addicted to porn and would masturbate every day. Sometimes it would get so bad that I would go to the library and target the boys that were not so popular. I knew that sleeping with these boys meant that nobody would know of my obsession. I seemed to have everything together on the outside but I knew that deep down, I was damaged.
In my second year I met a wonderful boy. He was doing his third year in mechanical engineering. He was the most kindest and handsome man I had ever met. It didn't make sense that he was such a good guy. I always felt like he had a hidden agenda and would overanalyse everything about him. My paranoia truly affected our relationship. I did not trust him, I would accuse him of cheating on me and I would get extremely violent when I was angry with him. One day, just after the Spring festival on campus, we had a huge fight in my room. I was curious about what was on his phone so while he was using the bathroom, I decided to go through his phone. And there it was - A message from his ex. I heard the toilet flush and did not spare him a moment the minute he walked up to me.
"I knew it, I knew you were too good to be true. You are an animal just like all of them"
"How many times must I tell you that I don't know why she sent that message. I have told you a thousand times to call her but you won't"
"Please don't start with me. You know if I call her she will protect you. You are a dog you hear me. How could you do this to me"
"You better deal with your issues woman." He looked at me. Held me on my shoulders and shook me
"What is wrong with you?"
I felt a sharp pain in my heart and broke out in a bitter tear.
"Let go of me. You are hurting me"
I repeatedly hit him on his face with such force that every time my hand landed on his face I felt so much power and control. With clenched eyes and gritted lips, he just stood there while I hit him. I fell on the floor and cried so hard. He apologised and held me telling me that everything will be ok. I told him to leave me alone and never talk to me again. He asked me if I was sure.
"Get out of my room and go to your ex. Leave me alone"
He got up, walked over to the couch and kicked it as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. With his hand around the doorknob he said.
"You are psycho - get help"
And then he left. I couldn't believe he had left. I didn't think he would leave. I have never felt so vulnerable like I that in my entire life. I was in so much pain and full of rage. Deep down, I truly believed that he was cheating on me with his ex.
The following days after that would drive me crazy. I sent him countless texts and called him every minute I could. He would not respond to any of my messages. He ultimately blocked my number as I could no longer get through to his line. This made me so angry. I felt so rejected. He was the one who cheated, why was he the one blocking me? He should have asked for an apology.
As the days passed by, my anger brewed. I had to get back at him. He needed to pay for what he had done to me. One day I called his best friend, Kwezi, asking if I could see him as I needed to talk about my boyfriend. I thought he wouldn't buy it but to my surprise he agreed to meet me. We agreed to meet at his (Kwezi) room which was off campus. In my mind, I planned to have sex with him. I knew for sure that would surely drive my boyfriend mad.
I got to Kwezi's place and he seemed very happy to see me. He invited me in and offered me a seat on his blue vintage looking couch.
"So, talk to me, what's up?"
"Please promise that you won't tell anyone."
"You can trust me."
I can't put my fingers on it but I felt quite safe. I started narrating the problems I had with my boyfriend. The more I spoke, the angrier I got. Kwezi looked into my eyes and paid attention to what I was saying. He cared. He was extremely understanding and I was convinced that he sided with me.
The situation made me forget the real reason I was there. I felt cared for. I felt like I mattered. Without warning, I broke out into tears and Kwezi comforted me. He got me a glass of water and told me to relax and that everything would be ok. I took a sip of the water, wiped my face and thanked him for listening. He gave me a hug and then attempted to kiss me. I felt his tongue enter my mouth and I pushed him back and asked what he was doing.
"Just relax, I'm going to make you feel all better"
"No stop, what are you doing"
He tried to kiss me again and I resisted. I told him to stop but he wouldn't. We struggled as I tried to free myself from his grip.
"Kwezi please, what are you doing?"
He pushed me flat on my back and no matter how much I tried to fight him off, I just couldn't. He was too strong for me.
"Please Kwezi, please stop"
I resigned myself to the fact that no matter how much I tried to fight him off, I wouldn't win. People seem to mind their business so no one came to my rescue despite my screaming. I felt him open my legs and I closed my eyes. First it was darkness. Then I saw the gentleman appear. Unbuckling his belt with a smug on his face. I remember my memory smelling that same disgusting scent. It was as if I went back to my mom's house. I was tortured with my eyes closed and tortured with my eyes opened. I looked to the side and saw the glass of water he had offered me right where I left it. On the floor next to the blue vintage couch. I imagined the water tears slowly evaporating from the glass as Kwezi had sex with me. With a huff, he fell on top of me and breathed heavily. I felt my face in between his shoulder and head. His sweat was all over my body. He kissed me and said:
"thank you - we both knew you wanted it. Let's keep it our little shall we. I mean, we wouldn't want your boyfriend to know what a whore you are right?"
I had no tears. No feelings. I was numb
To be continued...
In my second year I met a wonderful boy. He was doing his third year in mechanical engineering. He was the most kindest and handsome man I had ever met. It didn't make sense that he was such a good guy. I always felt like he had a hidden agenda and would overanalyse everything about him. My paranoia truly affected our relationship. I did not trust him, I would accuse him of cheating on me and I would get extremely violent when I was angry with him. One day, just after the Spring festival on campus, we had a huge fight in my room. I was curious about what was on his phone so while he was using the bathroom, I decided to go through his phone. And there it was - A message from his ex. I heard the toilet flush and did not spare him a moment the minute he walked up to me.
"I knew it, I knew you were too good to be true. You are an animal just like all of them"
"How many times must I tell you that I don't know why she sent that message. I have told you a thousand times to call her but you won't"
"Please don't start with me. You know if I call her she will protect you. You are a dog you hear me. How could you do this to me"
"You better deal with your issues woman." He looked at me. Held me on my shoulders and shook me
"What is wrong with you?"
I felt a sharp pain in my heart and broke out in a bitter tear.
"Let go of me. You are hurting me"
I repeatedly hit him on his face with such force that every time my hand landed on his face I felt so much power and control. With clenched eyes and gritted lips, he just stood there while I hit him. I fell on the floor and cried so hard. He apologised and held me telling me that everything will be ok. I told him to leave me alone and never talk to me again. He asked me if I was sure.
"Get out of my room and go to your ex. Leave me alone"
He got up, walked over to the couch and kicked it as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. With his hand around the doorknob he said.
"You are psycho - get help"
And then he left. I couldn't believe he had left. I didn't think he would leave. I have never felt so vulnerable like I that in my entire life. I was in so much pain and full of rage. Deep down, I truly believed that he was cheating on me with his ex.
The following days after that would drive me crazy. I sent him countless texts and called him every minute I could. He would not respond to any of my messages. He ultimately blocked my number as I could no longer get through to his line. This made me so angry. I felt so rejected. He was the one who cheated, why was he the one blocking me? He should have asked for an apology.
As the days passed by, my anger brewed. I had to get back at him. He needed to pay for what he had done to me. One day I called his best friend, Kwezi, asking if I could see him as I needed to talk about my boyfriend. I thought he wouldn't buy it but to my surprise he agreed to meet me. We agreed to meet at his (Kwezi) room which was off campus. In my mind, I planned to have sex with him. I knew for sure that would surely drive my boyfriend mad.
I got to Kwezi's place and he seemed very happy to see me. He invited me in and offered me a seat on his blue vintage looking couch.
"So, talk to me, what's up?"
"Please promise that you won't tell anyone."
"You can trust me."
I can't put my fingers on it but I felt quite safe. I started narrating the problems I had with my boyfriend. The more I spoke, the angrier I got. Kwezi looked into my eyes and paid attention to what I was saying. He cared. He was extremely understanding and I was convinced that he sided with me.
The situation made me forget the real reason I was there. I felt cared for. I felt like I mattered. Without warning, I broke out into tears and Kwezi comforted me. He got me a glass of water and told me to relax and that everything would be ok. I took a sip of the water, wiped my face and thanked him for listening. He gave me a hug and then attempted to kiss me. I felt his tongue enter my mouth and I pushed him back and asked what he was doing.
"Just relax, I'm going to make you feel all better"
"No stop, what are you doing"
He tried to kiss me again and I resisted. I told him to stop but he wouldn't. We struggled as I tried to free myself from his grip.
"Kwezi please, what are you doing?"
He pushed me flat on my back and no matter how much I tried to fight him off, I just couldn't. He was too strong for me.
"Please Kwezi, please stop"
I resigned myself to the fact that no matter how much I tried to fight him off, I wouldn't win. People seem to mind their business so no one came to my rescue despite my screaming. I felt him open my legs and I closed my eyes. First it was darkness. Then I saw the gentleman appear. Unbuckling his belt with a smug on his face. I remember my memory smelling that same disgusting scent. It was as if I went back to my mom's house. I was tortured with my eyes closed and tortured with my eyes opened. I looked to the side and saw the glass of water he had offered me right where I left it. On the floor next to the blue vintage couch. I imagined the water tears slowly evaporating from the glass as Kwezi had sex with me. With a huff, he fell on top of me and breathed heavily. I felt my face in between his shoulder and head. His sweat was all over my body. He kissed me and said:
"thank you - we both knew you wanted it. Let's keep it our little shall we. I mean, we wouldn't want your boyfriend to know what a whore you are right?"
I had no tears. No feelings. I was numb
To be continued...
#DearDiary #AnnahsDiary Post 6
 |
| image from www.blkwomaart.com |
I got out of the shower, dried myself with a towel and got into my pyjamas. I switched my phone off and got into my bed and stayed there for three days. The only time I would get up was when I needed to use the bathroom. I couldn't eat because I threw up the moment something touched my tongue. Even my saliva made me sick. When I drank water, all I felt was his tongue touching my lips. I was disgusted with myself.
It was clear that this was my fate. This is why I was created - to pleasure men. I wondered if I had been raped. But how could I have been raped when my mission in the beginning was to have sex with him? Who would listen to me if I tried to talk about this? Thoughts consumed my mind and I was going mad. Why did this affect me so badly when my whole childhood was based on this. Why couldn't I just get up and go on as I previously managed to? This weighed on my soul deeply. My entire life came to a halt as I struggled with questions. I missed classes and no one noticed. No one came to my room to check on me. No one cared if I was ok or not.
After three days of staying in bed I reminded myself of why I came to Johannesburg. “To work hard and get the glossy magazine life”. I couldn't afford to fail or slack. I needed to work hard.
I got up and took a shower. After getting ready, I switched my phone on and a message from my boyfriend came in:
"Hey - I have been thinking about you. I miss you. Let's hook up for a chat"
And another one came in:
"Hi I understand you are angry. I am sorry. Please see it from my side too. Please respond"
And the last one:
"Ok... I will hear from you but just know how much I miss you. We can make this work"
While I closed myself in, he obviously tried to get hold me. He must have thought that I was avoiding him.
I felt myself get sick to my stomach. I needed to tell him the truth. He needed to know the truth. But I wondered what he would think of me if he knew the truth? My mind went into "overactive mode". I drove myself insane. At the end I decided not to respond to him and avoid him at all cost.
After that, he sent me a couple of messages and called me but I didn't respond. He eventually gave up. Each day I felt something eat a little bit of my essence. I was slowly disappearing. I couldn't focus and all I thought about was the pain of existence. I felt so much pain to a point that I did not feel anything. I couldn't cry, I wouldn't cry. I needed to know if I was raped. Surely I was raped right? I mean I didn't agree to the sex, he forced himself into me? But who would believe me? What was I doing at his place? And it's not like my sexual behaviour helped me much. I knew that trying to speak out would do more damage than it would help me. I had read about it too often. Women accused of leading the man on because of how they are dressed. I knew I was no exception and no one would take my side. And so I decided, on the 25 September 2014, that I would never ever allow any man to do what Kwezi did to me. My existence after that day was pretty much uneventful. I went to class when I needed to and stayed in my room. I was desperate to pass and needed to get out of that dreadful place.
A year went past like a moth flapping its wings in a room with no light. I graduated and got an internship opportunity from a media company and became a permanent employee within six months. In two years, I managed to buy my own place and get myself a car. I could not believe that my life had come so far. I still struggled to get into any relationship. I dated a couple of times but would end it as soon as the thought of having sex came to me. I associated men with pain and wanted none of that in my life.
One day I slipped. It was with a a personal instructor from the gym. He had been checking me out and when he approached to give me a free workout lesson, I thought it was just business. After our lesson he kept on sending me messages; to see if I would like to take sign up for more lessons. I signed up and became his regular. We start flirting and our conversation heated up. I knew what I was doing was wrong but I had not felt like that in a while and so I went with it. One day he invited me over to his place for dinner. I wasn't keen at first but I eventually gave in. He wined and dined me and told me sweet nothings. For a moment I thought that not all men were the same. He seemed different. Oh so I thought. I was so moved by his kindness that I slept with him that evening. When I left his place, I felt empowered - I felt like I was on top of the world.
"Hey, I really had a great time last night. Thank you for everything. I got home safe."
I sent him a text message and nothing. No response. I thought he was busy and a day went by and not a single word from him. Three days went by and nothing. I went to gym and he pretended like nothing had taken place between us. I tried to talk to him about it but he would avoid it and continue with the training. I felt like such a fool. I hated myself intensely for this. I did not know what was wrong with me. Through it all, I felt empty and worthless.
One day after a stressful day at work. I decided to take myself out for dinner. I needed to unwind and just chill. I could feel the weariness of my soul. I wanted to be alone but scared of being by myself so dinner sounded like a good idea. I booked at Pigalle in Melrose Arch. I had never been there but I heard that their salmon was quite good. As I walked in at the restaurant I felt a familiar presence. I was uneasy and chills went through my spine. I walked in
“watch your step mam” as the waiter cautioned me on the steps that led to the sitting area. I took a step down as he led me to my table. I knew that back from anywhere. I knew that neck a mile away. It was him.
To be continued...
#DearDiary #Annah'sDiary Post 7
“Annah, is that you”
I turned around and he was standing there. He walked up to me and gave me the tightest hug ever. It was something I have never felt in a long time.
“How have you been, look at you? How are you Annah?”
“I am well. What brings you here?”
“Oh, I am waiting to have dinner with Kwezi. Remember Kwezi right? Please join us if you have nothing planned for the evening”
Hearing that name felt like someone had just punched me in my stomach; I told him I could not stay as an emergency had come up and I was late. He asked for my numbers as he would love to see me again. I was so desperate to get out of there I decided to give him my numbers. I did not want to see Kwezi as I would not know how to react to him. I took off my navy blue high heels and rushed to my car. Invaded by a plethora of mixed emotions; I took the escalator down to the basement, paid my ticket and ran as fast as I could to my car. As I was about to open the door, I looked over my shoulder as if I was being followed. My heart rate was up and I could not breathe. I threw myself inside my car into the driver’s seat. My first reaction was to cry but a voice inside of me told me to get it together. I looked at the review mirror and looked into the mirror. My mascara was a bit smudged but beyond that I saw utter emptiness; a dark abyss that I was lost in. I wiped the smudged mascara off the edge of my eyes. I reached for my make-up bag in my hand bag and opened it to get my foundation brush out. I quickly applied make-up and put my red lipstick on. I decided that I was not about to allow Kwezi to keep on haunting me. He had imprisoned me for far too long and I was going to get my freedom. I walked out of my car and got back to the restaurant. I walked up to the table where Kwezi was now sitting with my ex-boyfriend. My ex-boyfriend had his back to me with Kwezi sitting to his side.
“Oh Annah, you decided to join us after all? What happened to your emergency? I was just telling Kwezi about you”
I stood there, looked at Kwezi dead in his eyes. He had that smug about him. The same look he had when he raped me.
“Two and half years Kwezi – two and a half fucken years have I remained imprisoned by you. “
“What are you on about Annah? What are you talking about? What is going on” my ex-boyfriend asked with a confused look
“This fuck head called Kwezi raped me while we were still at University and I have walked around
thinking it was all my fault. Walking around thinking I was cursed. I said No Kwezi. I said No”
“Kwezi, what is she talking about. What? Rape? Can someone tell me what is going on?”
Kwezi stood up, he was 1.75 M tall so he towered over me and looked at me in the eyes and said: “you are a crazy bitch you know. You want to be talking about things that took place in University? The day you threw yourself at me?”
I was filled with so much rage and bitterness that I slapped him and that is when my ex-boyfriend held me back and told Kwezi to get out of the restaurant before he calls the police.
“You are going to believe this whore? The one who slept with everyone on campus?”
“Kwezi I am warning you. Get out of here before I drag you out”
Everyone at the restaurant was startled as they overhead everything. The manager of the place did not know what to do as he offered us to sit and have dinner on the house. I told my ex-boyfriend I did not feel like hanging around the restaurant and I wanted to leave. He insisted on taking me to my place but I told him that I would not feel safe and it was better if I were to just drive home. He would hear none of it and asked if he could call someone for me. I could not think of anyone to call and so I told him that I had no one. He held my hand and kissed it and reassured me that he was not Kwezi and he would not hurt me. It took me a while but I eventually agreed and allowed him to take me home. No word was uttered as he drove me to my place. He had inserted my address on his GPS so I didn’t have to direct him. All I could think about was how he was judging me. Although he was my ex from university, I still had feelings for him.
We got to my complex and I invited him to come inside. We got inside and he still said nothing to me. He got me a glass of water, took off his jacket and wrapped me with it. He asked me to sit with him on the couch. I hesitated and he told me to trust him. He held me as I fell asleep in his arms. I felt safe yet scared. He did nothing, he did not attempt to sleep with me, and he just held me the entire night.
The next morning my ex-boyfriend took the day off just so that he could be with me. He asked if I wanted to go to the police station to report Kwezi and I was very reluctant. I did not want to deal with the heart wrenching process that came with trying to get someone convicted of rape. I told him I felt a lot better that I had confronted Kwezi and that was enough for me. He still thought I should report it but he respected my wishes. From that day onwards we started seeing more of each other and it felt like old days. He told me that he had not stopped loving me and he struggled to get into any relationship after me because I was his one true love. I wondered how he could accept me even after he heard about Kwezi. It did not make sense and this is what caused so many problems in our relationship. I struggled to trust him and was always skeptical about what he thought about the Kwezi incidence.
After a solid year of being together, my boyfriend proposed and I accepted. It was the happiest day of my life. It was the cheesiest proposal but it was the most special. We were out for a dinner and he had the ring hidden in my dessert. He was not the most creative and romantic man but he loved me and I appreciated him so much. Organising the wedding was a nightmare as he kept asking about my family. This caused a lot of tension between us up to a point that I starting doubting if I wanted to marry him.
“But Annah, you have never told me about your family. What is going on?”
“I told you that I don’t have any family – can we please let it go”.
This led to a huge fight between us. I slapped him and he did not allow me to send through the second blow as he blocked and held my arm before my hand landed on him. This sent a rage down my spine and I became hysterical. I threw things against the wall, he tried to leave and I screamed from the top of my voice and told him if he left he should not bother coming back and this time I would not take him back. He didn’t leave, instead he just sat on the couch while I yelled at him. Then out of the blue he stood up and yelled back.
“Won’t you just stop for once. God!!! You are so selfish”
He told me that I was bitter and angry and that I lived as if the world owed me something. He continued that I was angry at everyone and it was time that I dealt with all the issues I harboured inside of me.
“Come on now Annah, something has got to give. Why am I being punished for god knows who did what to you?”
I just stood there in shock. As he was yelling, all my childhood memories started flooding back to me. I had never told anyone what had happened during my childhood. I just could not bear the thought of someone else knowing what was haunting me day and night. Honestly, I could not hide it anymore. The fact of the matter was that I had to live knowing that I carried with me all the beatings, the men that came to our house, the first man who violated and disgusted me. The thought that I had a daughter out there that I hated and wanted nothing to do with sent tears streaming out of me like acid destroying me bit by bit. My history ate me up like maggots eating up a corpse, ligament by ligament, I was slowly dying inside. My heart was wounded and bleeding. I had done such a great job at concealing this blood for a very long time. I built a wall around my heart and the cracks were seeping of this blood. The blood started showing through my behaviour and those around me started noticing the condition of my soul. I was dying a slow death if I had not died already. I looked into my fiancé’s eyes and they were filled with so much pain, what had I done? Here was this man who loved me a great deal, a man who supported me when I expected him to desert me. A man who had been at the receiving end of all my pain; I could not expect him to forgive me after all the pain that I had put him through. I stood there, in the middle of the lounge, cold as ice. He walked over to me and gave me a hug and uttered words I will never forget ‘I am not here to hurt you baby, I am here to cover you, I will never let you fall, all I ask is that you trust me.’ I held on to him as I cried a river infested with blood. I cried bitter tears, tears filled with the pain I carried for years, tears of a septic wound which was now rotten and had moved through my entire body and infected all the other parts.
To Be Continued...
#DearDiary #AnnahsDiary Post 8
“I won’t hurt you I promise. It’s going to be ok. I am here with you forever now. I love you and will never hurt you.”
I could feel his heart racing; it was beating so fast that I could feel it stabbing me. I could not even begin to imagine what the news did to him. He had a choice to walk away because I had deceived him but instead, he chose to love me, he chose not to judge me, and he chose to protect me. When I asked him why he did not walk away, he felt that while it was a tough pillow to swallow, he finally understood why I behaved the way I did. He had grown up watching his father abusing his mother and he swore that he would stand up for any woman who suffers under the hands of abuse. He says he could tell that I was harbouring so much anger and bitterness but he wanted to wait when the time was right to address it but that time never presented itself. He made a promise not to perpetuate the cycle of having people hurt me in my life. He made a choice to help me through the process of healing. I figured what also helped was the fact that my fiancé was a very spiritual man and although he did not enforce his beliefs on me. He rarely professed much, but I knew what he believed in and I saw it through his life. He suggested I attend counseling and I agreed. He drove me to every session with no fail. The counseling journey was a very difficult one and no day was the same.
I was always nervous and scared. My fiancé kept on reminding me that I needed the counseling if I ever wanted to be set free from the darkness that hovered around me.
The counseling sessions were not easy, they involved me having to recollect all those gruesome moments, and I experienced countless roller-coaster of emotions. I started having dreams of what happened; some things that my mind had blocked started to resurface. My fiancé kept his word and he was there every step of the way. There were moments I refused to go back to counseling, the experience was too painful. My counselor would remind me that in order for me to reach the other side, I would need to go through the mud again. She told me that by reliving these experiences, I was confronting the monster that had so much power over my life. She took me through a process where I had to accept what life had dealt me with. I often questioned why these things happened to me, why was I punished like this? She briefly explained how most of the things that were done to me where not due to anything I had done. I happened to be the victim at that time and the people who hurt me were fulfilling their own urge to harm others because of what had happened in their lives. That in most cases, hurting people hurt others. She told me that I need to remove myself from believing that it was my fault. We would often try to imagine what happened in my mother’s past for her to do what she did to me. She showed me how my past influenced a huge part of my behaviour and how it was possible that my mother too had also suffered gravely in her life. In a crazy kind of way, the exercises would almost make sense why my mother was so sick. As the sessions progressed, they started making so much sense for me, and it also made it easier for me to accept that what had happened, had happened and I could not change the hands of time but what I could do was rise from it because life is a forward motion and if I did not move forward with life, I risked being dragged backwards.
The next step after acceptance would be the most difficult for me. Nothing could have ever prepared me for it. I did not want to confront it. I needed to forgive every single person that had hurt me, including myself. I thought it was unfair for me to be expected to pardon my mother and her entourage of monsters, especially since they did not ask for forgiveness. Why did I need to forgive Kwezi when he still believed that I was at fault? What she was asking of me was impossible. I swore never ever to forgive those evil people and I often prayed that they would all die painful deaths. As usual, she made an example of my boyfriend; that after I had hurt him, he chose to forgive me even when I was guilty. This angered me as it was not a fair comparison; how dare she compare what those people did to me with what I had done to my boyfriend?
“Annah you must understand that when people get violated and hurt, a form of power and essence gets taken away from them. They walk around trying to get this power back through hurting others. They walk around carrying all those people who have violated them allowing themselves to be hurt all over again. Forgiveness is important because you take your power back. You return back to yourself.”
That made so much sense but how would I even begin to forgive? Where would I start? This was the toughest process. I had to write letters to them expressing how I was feeling and then burn the letters. She also asked me to create positive affirmations wishing these people well in their lives. It took me ages to get to that point but when I did, it was not that difficult. The more I did, the more their hold loosened from my life, the lighter I felt. I could never say that I fully forgave them, but I surely know that I am still in the process of forgiving them.
It took me months to finally decide to do the unthinkable; that was to go back where I grew up and find my mother. Bringing up my past caused me to start thinking about my daughter a lot. I wondered what she had turned out like, if she was skinny or fat. I would usually get depressed at the possibility of my daughter also being subjected to the type of life I was subjected to. I started hating myself intensely for being selfish, for coming to Johannesburg while I left my own daughter to suffer. That was the ultimate push I needed for me to go back to where I grew up. I was ready to face the monster that haunted me all my being. I was ready to look at my mother in the eye and tell her that I forgave her.
To be continued...
#DearDiary #AnnahsDiary Post 9
The drive took us over nine hours, and as we approached the little town. Not much had changed, it was old and some of the houses had fallen apart. Many stores that I remember from my childhood were closed and I saw many taverns as we were driving towards the slaughter house I had grown up in. This was my hometown; I was to come face to face with my tormentor. I felt that my power was yielding me and I felt a force pulling me towards the house. The atmosphere was morose and it felt as if I was starting from where I had left off. It is true that one can never run away from their reality. That it will always haunt you until you face it. The day had come where I would face my monster. We started approaching the house and it had certain darkness about it. I asked my fiancé to park on the side of the street across from the house. The gates were locked and I decided to jump over the fence. I tried to jump over but must have missed a beat and I landed with my hands. My hand landed on a sharp stone and I started to bleed uncontrollably. The pain was unbearable and I was so overcome with emotions that I wept so hard. My fiancé ran back to the car to get my scarf that was in the back seat; he also brought bottled water to wash the blood off and tied the scarf around my hand. My adrenalin and anxiety numbed the pain and I was determined to go into the house and see my daughter. I longed to see what she looked like. We got to the house and the doors were locked. I looked through the windows and it seemed somehow abandoned. My fiancé went around the house and all the doors were locked. I released a huge sigh of disappointed and uttered to myself ‘they are not here’ as a tear dropped on top of my right foot. We sat on the front porch for what must have been two hours when we heard a voice from the neighbour.
‘ He lona, lebatlang moo?’ (Hey you, what do you want over there). That voice sounded familiar. It was the neighbour who had helped my mom with taking care of my daughter. I ran up to her and asked her with desperation in my voice about my mother and daughter’s whereabouts. Her face turned pale and her eyes swelled up with tears as she looked at me and gave me a hug. She invited us to her house for some tea and I did not have the patience and asked what the matter was. She said it was better that we walked over to her house and sat down for a chat.
Nothing could have ever prepared me for what I was to be told on that day.
“Eish Annah, after you left, your mother could not cope. She cried every day”
She continued that my mother would often mutter words about how she had failed me and how she wishes she had never done all those evil things to me. My mother spoke to herself and would often report hearing voices and blaming others for plotting to kill her. Unfortunately, after a year of me running away, my mother woke up one morning and put a knife through my daughter’s heart and hanged herself. The neighbour was doing her routine daily visit to the house to mind the baby and she found them in the bedroom, the baby in a pool of blood. The neighbour says that she had never seen something like that and that the images haunt her daily. She knew that my mother was unfit to care for the baby as she was called insane but she could not afford to take the baby in. After that incidence, the house got locked up and no one dares to get close to it as they believe that the souls of my mother and daughter are wandering in the yard needing rest. I sat there frozen as she related this story. I felt cold and numb. I would never get to see the daughter that I had managed to fall in love with in the past few days. I asked if she could take me to their grave site. She obliged and took us there. I asked my fiance if he could give me a moment by myself with the graves. Both my mother and daughter were buried side by side. The neighbour would often go and take care of the grave so it was not dilapidated as the house was. I sat there and cried myself to peace. I needed to accept what had happened. Maybe what my mother did was what she needed for her to be at peace with all that had been done to her and what she had done to herself and her only daughter. Maybe this was good for my daughter for she was spared the harsh realities of my mother’s world. My mother was desperate for my forgiveness before she died and that was exactly what I was desperate for all my life, for her to apologise and I was ready to fully and truly forgive her. I uttered the words ‘I forgive you mom, I forgive you and I forgive myself, May your soul rest in peace’. I left the town with a sense of hurt but peace as well.
I returned once after making arrangement for a tombstone but decided never to return again for that was part of my past and that was where I was leaving it.
The entire experience allowed me to discover myself; it allowed me to know who was hidden under all the blood caused by a heap of pain that increased over the years. I heard a new song and this song spoke to my soul, it spoke of my freedom. It spoke about being a flower in the wind and surviving the wind. This song is the song that leads and guides me whenever I find myself in a dark place. It reminds me of the decision I had taken, the decision to be free and to live again. I was reminded how blessed I was to have Lucky, the wonderful man in my life, my fiancé. He had shown me unconditional love; and because of this love, I felt free to love. He changed every stigma I had about men. I guess it’s true that ‘some men come to take and others come to restore’. I do not know how true that statement is, but what I know is that it is true in my life.
My beloved and I are taking things one day at a time. Life has become brighter and my productivity at work has increased with more opportunities opening up. My life has taught me that if you hoard anger and bitterness, it seeps through and eats away at your life until one is dead.
I have since started an organisation for females, young and old, where I share my story and hope that through my scars, they may receive healing. I find that whenever I help another person, the closer I get to complete and total healing. I may not have asked for what happened to me, but it happened and there is nothing I can do to change that reality, but what I have control over is my future and I thank my fiancé who was such and continues to be a pillar of strength. I am on a road to my destiny and I love it. I danced in the wind and survived it.
