I feel like I am not a good daughter and a good sister to my siblings. I’m so cold, stuck, lost and stressed. “God please hear me,” I said.

After my father left us with nothing when I was five years of age, my mother decided to go to Cape Town (the Mother City). She left us with our Granny. My grandmother was everything to us; she played the role of our mother and father. She was supporting us with her grant money. That time, the grant amount was R500 and we were 6 grandchildren. When we came home from school there was always no food to eat, in the morning, in the afternoon and at night.

That was one thing I hated the most, but I didn’t notice that it would cause me to have feelings of anger and resentment towards my father. I kept on asking myself “why me?” and I still ask myself that question today.

I was sick with eczema during that time; it was all over my body and nobody wanted to sit near me or play with me. My granny’s friend from church healed me with some forest leaves she brought for me from the forest. People were laughing at us, and gossiping badly about me and my family because we were suffering and poor. But I knew that our tears would be tears of joy someday. That was my hope.

The death of my granny really affected me, as a result I didn’t finish school and I wasn’t being a good girl.

In 2009 we came to Cape Town. My mom and my siblings didn’t understand my reasons as to why I was being stubborn. It was because of the anger that I felt towards my life in general. So things between me and them were not fine at all. I didn’t have a boyfriend that would give me money to buy food at home, unlike my older sister who would do that with the money that her boyfriend would give to her since there was no-one that was working at home.

I finally found boyfriend

One day during the morning time, I remember I was coming back from my boyfriend’s house and when I got home, I cooked, and we ate. Then my sister said that all I only know is to eat, I don’t know where that food comes from. Sometimes she would search my pockets to see if I was hiding money. When they would say something about me, I liked to pretend as if I was not bothered, even though I was. And, I liked to go cry in the bathroom and pray because I knew that there was a bad spirit between us. I remember the day my mom said to me that I was a coward because I didn’t know how I can make money or how can I ask money from a boyfriend.

“This is Cape Town, you must be wise. These guys will just use you and leave you with nothing, “she said.

Sometimes when I slept over at my boyfriend’s house, I was too scared to go back home because I didn’t have any money to buy food.

In January 2014 I met a guy and he gave me money to buy everything that I wanted. So in my thoughts, I was hoping that God answered my prayers. At home everything was fine. That guy was so cool and sweet but the thing is, he was using drugs. What am I going to do? I asked myself. “Why me? Why!?” I cried to myself.

I ended up smoking drugs with him and his skollie friends. At home, I was feeling better because I was that kind of girl who was better off when I wasn’t smoking. I remember the day after I smoked Ndumba, which is Mandrax, a drug tablet, and I feel asleep. I had a dream where my father said to me, “Please my daughter, don’t do this again. I’m so sorry for leaving you. Please.”

I woke up and cried.

After that, I decided to leave that guy but things remained the same at home because I didn’t tell them the truth about the guy. I met another guy in July, and I fell pregnant that same year in September. I liked him, he didn’t smoke, and neither did I. And in May 2015 I gave birth to a baby boy and I now live my life for him.


Tell us: Have you ever felt the pressure to get money from your boyfriend/girlfriend so you could help out at home?