I have always admired my mom but really hate when she has harsh words for me. The words of an adult can shatter and break one’s heart and what’s painful is that their words often become a reality. The one word I hate coming from them is “Ndanditshilo” (I said so). Trust me that word is more painful more than an ordinary skelling (scolding).
As a young beautiful, smart girl with many talents, I was also quite mischievous and didn’t like doing as I was told. I lived with my mom, dad and brother. My sister lived in Johannesburg and is someone I have never met. I would love to have her around the house, a younger person who would understand me and listen to my problems. Some things were not appropriate to share with my mom, who was quite strict.
At home we had a shop and it was always busy and I was always locked inside the house. Toilets and everything were inside the house and I had no friends in my area. My parents would not, not even in the blink of an eye, allow me to go out at all. I was always bored.
One early morning, I woke up and the sun was shining so bright and birds singing. I felt so alive and good. I kicked those blankets off me and got up and started cleaning as mom and dad were preparing to leave.
Eee! This day is going to be nice and short. I thought.
Mom and dad left and I was left with my little grumpy brother. I bathed as soon as I was done cleaning and the house was spotless and smelt good! After taking a bath, I stood by the counter, waiting for people who would come and buy, but that day was so quiet and not busy at all.
There was a guy who kept on coming to buy Halls, but I rarely took any notice of him and just treated him like any other customer. On the fourth time coming to the shop, he asked for my digits.
Jesus Christ! I thought, as my heart beat so hard.
I gave him my number and we immediately started to chat and exchange pictures. When I took a very close look, I saw that he really was good looking: tall, handsome, light-skinned and well built. To me he was as hot as gas flames. I felt sweat running down my face.
“But why my number? He must have made a mistake.” I talked to myself, as I walked up and down the silent passageway.
“Sisi uthetha wedwa?” My little brother asked concerned.
“No Shawty. It’s nothing,” I smiled to take away the worry on his face.
On the third day, the guy confessed how he felt about me and I noticed that he was dead serious when he said those three words. I couldn’t resist and agreed to meet with him.
Whenever I had to see him, I had to wait till mom and dad had left, then I would leave my little brother at home, quickly go see him and come back quickly in case mom came back.
I enjoyed every little moment we spent together. He always knew his way around me and I didn’t even notice that my marks were dropping.
Mom had started preaching and begging me to focus but I wouldn’t listen. After months, he had already asked me if I could give him what a guy needs. I wasn’t ready, my body wasn’t, my mind wasn’t. But the temptation of love left me with no choice but to agree.
I remember that night very well. I kept on asking myself if I would really go through with it, losing my innocence, my identity. Am I even ready for the consequences?
He even asked me himself if I was ready.
“Sthandwa are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Yes, I’m sure …” I didn’t know what I was saying. Words were just flowing out of my mouth like the streams of water flowing down the valley… And then it happened.
In the morning, I got up and dressed and headed straight home. On my way home, people were looking at me as if they could see what I had done. My guilty conscience played at me. I got home and got in my cleaning clothes on and started cleaning. About 5 minutes after I was done cleaning, thinking about taking a bath, he called. I was feeling so moody and didn’t want to pick it up. But I had to in case it was something important.
Sive: Morning standwa, unjani?
Me: Hey, ndi-right…
Sive: You don’t sound good, kwenzeka nton? Did I hurt you or something? Like Babes I di…
Me: Sive stop, I said ndi-right!
Sive: OK, I was just checking up on you.
Me: Enkosi, I gotta go…bye.
As soon as I dropped the call, I felt something coming up in my throat quickly and harshly. And next thing I knew I was vomiting.
This can’t happen, I thought. I mean he just called now and I said I’m that I was fine. I couldn’t tell him, he won’t believe me. Thoughts ran through my mind. I decided to wait for 5 days before I decided to tell him.
During the 5 days, vomiting was still taking place. On the day I decided to tell him, I saw him walking with a girl heading to his ghetto. Tears fell down my cheeks like waterfalls. I called him but my calls were diverted.
That dog! I thought in tears. My little brother stood by me, also crying. Shame, poor little thing, he didn’t know what was happening.
At 8 p.m. my phone rang.
Me: What Sive?!
Sive: Look, cela uxolo. (Sorry)
Me: For what actually!?
Sive: For what you saw?
Me: How long has it been going on now?
Sive: (sighs) Four years, Zee…
Me: FOUR YEARS!!? FOUR YEARS SIVE!!? Tell me, when were you going to tell me?
Sive: I was scared that you would never agree to be mine.
Me: NONSENSE SIVE MAN NXXXXX!
I dropped my phone in anger and switched it off. That night, I couldn’t sleep thinking if I told him about my condition, he’d reject me.
Early in the morning, I sent him a paragraph including, the fact that I was pregnant. Immediately I received his call.
Sive: Is it true?
Me: Yes Sive.
Sive: So what you planning to do?
Me: Abort of course
Sive: You sure?
Me: As if uyakhathala!
I dropped my phone. I thought about this abortion and I realised that it was wrong of me, for lomntana did absolutely nothing wrong. I texted him again
I have actually thought about this baby thing and I’m keeping it.
What!? You can’t babe, nawe yayaz lonto, you need to get rid of it!
Hayi Sive! My word is FINAL, OK!
Zintle if you don’t get rid of it, I will run away, far away, you won’t find me. I am not ready to be a father… SO GET RID OF THAT BASTARD!!!
He called our child a bastard?
I felt my heart breaking into little pieces like a glass dropped from very high up, pulled by gravity to the ground. Then I remembered my parents’ words:
“Boys will always exist, even by the time you finish Varsity, they will still exist.”
”Qala nge mfundo mntanam ngoba iyokusa kude ebomini.”
In such pain, with so many sleepless nights I had a decision to make:
Abort or keep my baby.
Tell us what you think: Why do you think some guys accept less or no responsibility when it comes to unwanted pregnancies?