He kissed me, I kissed him back feeling my heart beat almost out of my chest and then it began, the touching. His hands moving slowly on my petite thighs up to my tiny waist; the pace was so gracious and smooth that my mind was oblivious to the fact that in a matter of seconds we had both stripped naked with his puny self on top of mine.

I smiled nervously at him as he attempted to place his manhood inside me, I didn’t realise it then but I was also jumping away from it nervously when it reached the opening of my vagina.

After almost three or so minutes of trying, he gave up realising that I was terrified. After getting dressed he asked if we could watch a movie instead, but I wasn’t having it, I was so embarrassed I couldn’t even look at him as he walked me home.

I decided to break up with him over the phone after that. I pinned the whole thing on him, claimed he should have known that I was still a virgin and that he didn’t respect me and my boundaries, which were like non-existent since I didn’t communicate them.

I wish I could say that’s where the story ended, that we went our separate ways and I found inner peace and security.

It was after two months after our breakup when I felt all kinds of nausea, dizziness and fatigue. I began to crave fatty foods and all sorts of delicious meals which wasn’t really unusual for me since I love me some dainty eatables. But these cravings were different, it seemed like something my body demanded, they were urgent and unbearable.

To top it off my periods were also two months late. I wasn’t the least bit worried about the possibility of pregnancy, since I had not dated anyone else after him. I blamed it all on exam stress and an unbalanced diet.

My grandmother also took note of these changes; she summoned me to her room one day and literally ripped my top off exposing my breasts. After a short observation she said they looked ripe and bigger, and then she asked me the most bizarre question ever.

“Usulale nomfana yini? (Have you slept with a boy?)”

I shook my head in response, disappointed that she could even think of something so ridiculous. I proudly declared that I was still a virgin, obviously she didn’t believe me. She insisted we go to the clinic for proof and I agreed. I was exhilarated that I could finally prove myself innocent and shame her for not trusting me.

I remember feeling so angry, infuriated on the day of the check-up. People were staring at me as if they could see through my soul, I felt so exposed, so naked. When the nurse called us into the room I felt a pang of relief, I sat there as my gran explained all the symptoms I was showing and what she perceived them to be.

The nurse gave me a steel bowl and said, “Go outside and pee on this.”

I took the bowl and headed out, I prayed so hard as I waited on the pee to come. When I came back with the half full bowl the nurse dipped a multi-coloured plastic stick in it. We watched in anticipation as the stick changed colour from one visible line to two.

“This means that she’s pregnant mama,” the nurse said, glancing over at me smugly.

Tell us: Have you ever had a bad experience with a nurse?