It was a warm spring day. There was an extremely boisterous cacophony of birds outside my window, and the sun was peeping through the half-closed curtain to hit my sleepy face. My grandma had already boiled water for me and was ironing my school tunic for me while I lay in bed.

I was staring at the corrugated iron roof and wishing I didn’t have to get out of bed. I was lost in my own thought,  trying to find a solution to my predicament and it came down to two things, bunk school or fake an illness? The former would be difficult because where the hell would I stay all day, and what if someone saw me or a teacher called my grandma and asked why I was absent, then hell would freeze and my grandma’s slippers would come flying at me like bullets. I shuddered at that thought and shrugged it off. The only option left was faking an illness, but that would mean staying in bed all day while being forced to drink bitter herbs and concoctions. It doesn’t matter which illness you fake, best believe my wonderful granny will have some weird home remedy for it.

So basically I had no choice but to go to school. “For the millionth time your water is ready and you’re going to be late Angela!!” My grandmother’s yelling violently pushed me out of Fantasyland and back to reality in an instant! Oh yes talking about reality, I had to face it and there was no running from it.

So the whole story started in my English class where we had to do an oral presentation for Term 4. When I was done presenting my English teacher gave me a weird look and told me to stay behind after class. I found that really odd but I did stay behind and she asked me if I was a poet or a public speaker.  I answered very truthfully that I was neither. To cut the long story short, she wanted to find out if I was a writer. I admitted that I dreamt of being one, that I write poetry on a scrapbook and, and, and – I was literally spilling the whole tea.

After listening to me she told me to prepare a poem for the Matric Valedictory and that I’d be reciting it In front of all the learners ,teachers and parents. Did I not almost choke on my spit!  Me? Reciting a poem In front of such a huge crowd?. I wanted to say no but compared to me a jellyfish has a backbone so yeah I ended up agreeing to her proposal.

From that day, the valedictory was all I could think about. I would write a few lines, scratch everything out, start afresh and repeat the cycle so many times. Two weeks before the valedictory I finally had the courage to go and show her the final product. She was so excited and told me she couldn’t wait to hear me recite it.

However, that was the problem, I wasn’t ready to do it and no amount of time would lessen my anxiety. For so many nights I couldn’t sleep properly, my pillow was always drenched in sweat and at times I’d wake up from horrible nightmares clutching my chest and gripping my neck in an attempt to stop the heart palpitations. In these nightmares I’d see myself standing on a stage and trying to recite a poem but for some reason I can’t move my lips, my feet are fixed to the ground and the crowd keeps shouting my name . Their shouts and screams become louder and louder while my heart beats faster and all I want to do is run, run as fast as my legs can carry me, run faster than the wind but I can’t move. It was always at that point when I’d wake up.

I finally finished preparing myself for school. I was about to walk out when I turned around and gave my grandmother a tight hug, she squeezed me right back and gave me a peck on the cheek. I exhaled sharply and walked out. With each step I was getting closer and closer to my nightmare. That morning I didn’t greet nor talk to anyone at all. The venue was our school hall, I took a seat at the back and the function proceeded very nicely. With the way I was enjoying the performances I almost forgot that I’d soon be called to the stage too. Finally, my name was called, I stood up and started walking to the stage. The hall was silent and only my footsteps could be heard, that made me very uncomfortable and added to my anxiety. The walk from my seat to the stage felt like the journey of  a million miles on a road with potholes and heavy traffic.  I took a deep breath and held the mic, I took out my crumpled piece of paper and after clearing my throat I began to read from it.

I had only read two or three lines from the paper when I was overcome by a sudden wave of confidence. I took my eyes off the paper and faced the crowd. Everything changed in that moment, all my walls came crashing down and I felt myself speaking directly from the heart, I was tired of the fear and I was ready to face myself.

In that moment I knew I had a voice, that we all have a voice and I was using mine to shout for my freedom, to break free from the chains of anxiety and diffidence. I was never the same after that performance, I was now reciting poetry and presenting speeches whenever I could. I became the chairperson of our school’s English club. I will forever cherish that moment because it not only changed me, but it changed me for the better.