I sat still while listening to the girl’s sanitary and hygiene lesson. Other school girls were seated in neat rows that faced the female educator at the assembly point. It was just before after school but none of us expressed impatience when each teacher would point out guidelines about the part of womanhood, we all knew. 

I learnt about such a thing called a ‘pad’? It looked like a cute tissue only you needed to hide it from boys as if they could whiff the smell of a pad from your breast pocket. Obviously, it was meant for prissy girls that wanted to be extra neat. Everyone knows that one girl who was always neat.

She wore polished black toughees, a skirt definitely, a white creaseless short sleeve, and tied her hair in a bun which I swear she would try to wiggle even though it was stuck to her head. What did clicks say about black women’s hair: “frizzy and dull”? Well, this girl’s hair was far from that. It was relaxed to give a glossy and dark look to her hair. Gosh, these girls didn’t even drink from the school tap. They removed dust from their hands using a sanitizer.

The pad Mrs. Ngobeni’s hand waved in our faces seemed designed for the top-notch girl I had just described. Mrs. Ngobeni was in a weird position demonstrating where a pad had to be placed. My hand closed around my mouth. Surely that wasn’t how tissues should be used! I thought after wiping tissues were disposed of. Guess not.

Ha! No wonder why boys aren’t meant to be here, I thought. This is some really unladylike stuff! Girls looked at one another to share incredulous giggles. Why would anyone walk around with such a thing? Can’t whatever that came from our private parts just be wiped away?

So, there were girls here walking around with that? Leaking blood? I felt sorry for them. It must be hard to not jump about like a dolphin with your peers because you were cut inside by something sinister. What was worse is that you never knew when it would come.  

It was brain overload for me, but I was still interested. Womanhood seemed too extra to me then. We were always educated on being clean. Was it because we stank and were punished for simply resembling Eve, the eater of forbidden fruit? I wanted to know.

Just then they whipped out a sunlight bar and showed us that girls must scrub their underarms.

“Ladies, you guys spend a lot of time playing outside where the sunshine burns 30 degrees or so. So, perspiration is inevitable.” Mrs. Ngobeni paused.

Her eyes were accusing all of us of Pepsi-what? Is it the same as expiring? Or is it just a Coca-Cola drink? I thought. I would like a drink when it’s hot, but I didn’t have money for Pepsi only cool-time ice. Ngobeni was on point about drinks when it was hot, and definitely in demand.