So, you see, I never expected to be here right now, or anytime soon, or ever. To say I’m terrified would be an understatement. The room is cold, the bed small and uncomfortable. I need a blanket! I think I’m going to cry!

My name is Angel and I just gave birth. I’ve been screaming and crying for a while now. I have had a full human being come out of my body. Can you guess how old I am?! 16. I know I know.

Despite all the teachings, I find myself lying here, in a hospital – maternity ward to be exact. People wearing blue surround my bed. Most of them are writing some things down on files. Nobody is making conversation and the beeping from the machines is driving me crazy.

What’s on my mind at this point is who do I call first. But I have a plan.
Seven months ago I went to my then boyfriend, who was 26 at the time. It was a rainy day and I was on my way from school. I had known I was pregnant for about a week and I decided it was time to tell him. It was now pouring and I needed shelter, so going to his house was me killing two birds with one stone.

At my arrival I found the door open, “different strokes, I guess”, I thought. I was welcomed by a cloud of smoke as I entered and there he was, sitting on the bed, unbothered.

Where else would he sit anyway? He had sold the rest of his furniture to get his daily fix. “Haibo baby uyabhema??” I asked shocked to see him smoking. I put my bag down and opened the window, rain splashing onto the curtain.

“What are you doing here Angie? It’s raining, you’ll catch a cold. I sold the heater hahaha”, he said and I didn’t know how to feel about this comment. He cares, hence he’s saying I should be home, warm. But at the same time it’s like he doesn’t really want me here.

“What’s going on mfethu??” I finally ask after sweeping the filthy room and then sitting down next to him. He utters no word. He starts sobbing and covers his face with his hands. I don’t know what is happening and the rain has stopped. I have been here for over 30 minutes and we haven’t even had a proper conversation. Also, I’m scared because he’s acting strange.

“Look! I’m leaving, awukho right wena!” As I pick up my bag, I remember why I actually came here. “Ngikhulelwe; thought you’d want to know.” I head for the door and as I turn to look at him I see the most terrifying thing ever. He has a gun in his hand and he’s pointing it at me; he’s still sobbing. “I love you, but I can’t stand the pain of seeing you smile with other men.”

This guy is smiling while sobbing and that sends chills down my spine. I freeze and feel numb. I can’t move; for the first time ever, I just experienced an “out of body” moment. As he’s crying and saying things that are not really making any sense, I decide to run for my life, and I make it home in a state. Come to think of it, he was probably going through some mental health issues and I hope he got help.

Seven months later here I am with this tiny baby laying on my bare chest breathing softly. I am a mom! Who would have thought that the smartest student, obedient daughter, church choir leader would be in this position right now?!

Well, I have a plan! I’ll get dressed and get out of here, alone! My name stands for something pure, godly, untamed. I can’t expect my parents to welcome me back as warmly as I would like. So I’m going to abandon this baby and run away.

Maybe I should contact the father; but wait, what if he’s dead? What if he rejects us? What if he welcomes us only to kill us? My life is just a mess right now. Maybe I should just go ask him to shoot me.

I put the baby down and cover her with a pink, soft blanket. I just want to get out of here. I’ll deal with feelings and emotions later. I get up, drowsy from the injections they gave me. I find the strength to stand up and take about two steps before I hear a soft yet piercing cry. The baby is awake and I have to attend to her before I attract unnecessary attention to myself. Holding her and trying to make her fall asleep again, I begin to sing to her. Now we are walking up and down the room and all I feel is peace; overwhelming peace. We sit on the bed and I try breastfeeding her, which is hell. A nurse comes in and smiles as I look up to face her. “You’ll be just fine; you’ll do great!” She hands me my bag with all my stuff inside. I reach for my phone. I feel tears escape my eyes when I see the amount of messages I got and the missed calls from mom. I don’t know why I thought they didn’t love me anymore; they had taken care of me all my life and more during my pregnancy. These are the same people that brought me here when I was in labour. I call my mom and tell her the news and I can hear a burst of ululating, laughter; and my mom starts praying, thanking God for the gift of life.

I knew my life had changed forever; but I had everything/one I needed.