I got into a fight with my brother that day. I didn’t want to smoke that crazy stuff he was smoking with those silly friends he was out with.

“It’s cool, try it out,” he had said.

I refused and he punched me lightly on the head. I fell as he pushed me against the wall. I was woken up by my mother who was surprised to find me lying on the kitchen floor. I explained everything to her but she didn’t seem to want to confront my brother, who was two years older than me.

“Vatiswa, I know what Michael did but he wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t provoked him,” she said. I felt annoyed as my mother said that. For God’s sake, Michael hit me and my mother didn’t seem to care at all. Well, all that has now passed. I was recently told that I had been adopted. That conversation didn’t go well with me as throughout all these years they have kept it to themselves. No wonder I wasn’t their favourite child. What I wanted to know was who my real family was: my mother, my father. Maybe I had sisters or brothers too. But most importantly I wanted to know my mom, my real mom.

Well, at 17 I think that I should know where my mom is and why she gave me up for adoption. Was she ashamed of me, or too poor to raise me on her own? Perhaps my father had run off after I was born? All these questions were wandering around my head unanswered. Why on earth would a woman give up on her child, her own flesh and blood?

I asked my mother about my real family, especially about my mom. But all she could tell me was that my mom wasn’t the one who had given me up for adoption, and that I should stop asking questions.

“Vatiswa, this is not an interrogation house. So, stop asking questions like a bloody detective,” she cried.

I stopped right there. But I could not find peace, not since that day when I found out that I’d been adopted.

Tell us what you think: Is it wise for Vatiswa to follow up on her biological parents? Do you think she’ll still pursue her quest to find them without her mother’s blessing?