“Life is but a stopping place, a pause that’s to be a resting place along the road to eternity. We all have different journeys to take and on this journey we are bound to learn something but never meant to stay.” – Unknown
I am Ntsakiso Sithole. The last born daughter to Jane Sithole, sister to Ntlakuso and granddaughter to Sarah Sithole. “Ndzi ntukulu wa vandawu.” Oh, before I forget, I am 15 years old and my best friends are Nkuriso and Praise.
Let me indulge you in a story of mine.
If you had told me that I would write a book about myself, well, I would have laughed. But now I feel the need to tell my story, to speak up and to be heard.
Sometimes I look back at my past and I cry. I don’t know why, but when I sit in silence my thoughts are deep down in my past and all that runs down my face are tears. I know I’m young, but I’ve noticed a lot about life. For example, I have noticed that life is like a game of chess, you need to play it right and make your move at the right time. I don’t want to hold the suspense any longer, let me just get straight to the point.
It was November 2017 when my mum and grandma left me at my great-grandma’s place. They told me not to return home no matter what. I was referred to as “Tsandzavalayi” – someone who doesn’t listen when being told. I went back home even though I was told not to go home.
I opened the gate and kept it unlocked. I opened the house but after a few minutes I heard a strange knock on the door, so I went to open it. I found out it was a stranger with a familiar face. He asked me if my parents were home and I shook my head. As I was trying to close the door he pushed the door open and forced himself inside. I tried to run, but where would I hide? The man finally caught up to me and told me nasty and cringe-worthy things. He did what he wanted and came inside of me forcefully. I bled as my blanket was soaking wet with blood. Telling you about this brings tears to my eyes and misery to my heart.
I didn’t know how to tell my parents and I had no one to comfort me, no one to dry my tears except for God. My knees were tired from praying day and night only to find a solution, to find a way to tell my parents how this happened. I sometimes thought of suicide, not just thought but also attempted it.
I’m still fighting my battle against depression to date. I still have no idea how to tell my parents. The only thing that keeps me going is that my mother will be left alone with my only sister, so she has no other relatives and no other siblings of her own. Sometimes I wake up to cry and I cry myself to sleep every night. As I slowly drift away from consciousness, darkness rises and takes me on a horrific journey of thoughts.
Some advice; only your family has your best interests at heart and they will believe you, never abandon you, and trust you no matter what. Don’t ever take it for granted, for not so many live to witness this kind of affection. Though I’m still fighting against this because most of my physical pain is caused by this emotional rollercoaster; I’m thinking of my mum, my grandma and my sister.
A lesson or two. Your past doesn’t define your future, nor does it determine the person you have to become. We need to go beyond the walls; the walls of gender-based violence, the walls of injustice. We need to break the walls one by one because, darling, beyond those walls is the key to our success, the key to happiness or contentment in our peace and significance.
Remember Martin Luther King Jr once said, “If you can’t fly then run. If you can’t run then walk. If you can’t walk, then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.”
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For professional help and counselling call one of these numbers:
Childline: You may call the Helpline 24×7 on 116 (free from all networks) OR you can visit the online counselling chatrooms (a D/deaf Friendly Service) Monday-Friday, 11am-1pm & 2-6pm to chat to a counsellor
Lifeline: 0861 322 322
Rape Crisis: 021 447 9762
SADAG (The South African Depression and Anxiety Group): 0800567567