Tomorrow we will be sampling my new blog coming soon called Young Employed and Single the story of a young working girl who cannot get a men to commit to her nor marry her. We have received so many letters on this topic with the question “Why can’t I get a man?” It’s just a sample for chapter one…
Also great news is that we still have books, on the checkout store (http://diaryofazulugirl.co.za/store) use this coupon code: doazg to get the book @ R165 December Special. It’s copy to own, it’s a gift to share….
“I respect the law but my family comes first. If Zuma can say that ANC comes first before the country then I too can say fuck the law!”
I told this to myself because I am very certain if I were to steal my baby yes I might into trouble but the media will be on my side. I was the victim and journalists are parents too so they would help me I am certain of that. I just had to finish this interview and come up with a plan on how to sneak my baby out. A lot of people have never had to deal with police. It’s not a nice feeling being marched off to a secluded place. There is nothing nice about it especially if you could be guilty of something. I was not guilty of anything but I can’t deny that I was scared. South African police are not designed to help you cross the road like we see with American ones. Nope, ours are always angry and almost always treat you as though they have a grudge against you. Emotional as I was I still had a healthy fear for them. Honestly you never know what reaction you will evoke from them so you handle them with care. As I marched down to the room we had been provided I saw my life flashing by. If I was honest with myself I have to admit that ever since my pregnancy with Amo my life had fallen apart drastically. Why was everything going south like this? If I didnt know better I would say I need a cleansing. Maybe I should get born again. It’s the fate of most single mothers is it not. All these new age churches are built on the back of our suffering. We all flock the churches because we feel bad luck is stalking us. That was me now, I needed Jesus to intervene and I needed that now.
I had not noticed that Thulare had walked behind us and it was only when the male officer said he could not enter that I noticed that he was there.
“He is with me he can enter?”
“No maam. This is a very serious issue he cannot be there. We only need people who were there when the baby was born. I am sorry. Sir you can wait for us outside, we are not going anywhere!”
The officer said sternly but in a rather friendly way. That included Mudenda who slithered away embarrassed that he had not witnessed the birth of his own child. Sies!
“I am going to call my cousin to come through. He is a lawyer and I think that would be beneficial to you in the long run!”
Thulare said. I had not even thought of the legal ramifications if things were to go south but as he said it, the one person I knew was on my side come what may, it made sense.
“Thanks, please do that!”
When I walked with the police it felt as though I was making that last walk to the gallows. They wanted me to make a statement of God knows what. I knew only one thing, Amogelang was my son, that’s my story and I am sticking to it. We walked into this office. It was not like a holding room thank heavens but someone’s office, maybe the doctors. We sat down and they started,
“Ma’am I am not trying to scare you but baby kidnapping is very big in this country so we take it very seriously. What has happened here is very big. I am not accusing you of kidnapping but that will definitely be looked into so be very careful what you say!”
The male officer said to me. Wow! How is that for an introduction. How did he expect me to be calm after that? He had somehow made me feel guilty and now I was on the defensive. The tension built up in those few moments was broken when some nurse entered,
“I am nurse Sehako, Lovedelia Sehako. The doctor said to cal me if you need anything you must call me!”
She said. The female officer looked at her funny and said,
“I worked with a Sehako once, are you from Northern Cape?”
She asked her. Ok that was random.
“Yes I am. My father was a cop maybe it’s him!”
She said. They spoke a bit forgetting the matter at hand. Don’t you just hate that though? You go to a place or shop and the person supposed to be helping you insists on finishing their conversation regardless of queue forming in front of them. Funny enough these are the very same people that protest for service delivery when they can’t deliver themselves. Vicious cycle I tell you.
“Sorry about that, her father and I were very close now he is working private security!”
Like honestly I did not care. I smiled politely and nodded. I did not want to piss her off. When Lovedelia left we got to business.
“Ok Faith what’s the story behind your baby. Tell us everything as you remember it when he was born!”
I can’t believe I was doing this. I explained everything in detail as I remembered it. I actually thought it was not a long story but an hour later I was still talking meaning maybe there was more I had forgotten that was coming out. When I was done they said they will keep in touch. They already had my details in case I run away.
“I am sorry I put you through that.”
The doctor said when he came back to me. In fact I think he had been waiting for me the way he came to me.
“An update, we managed to get a tube into Amo so he is fine for now. I have even better news, one of my paediatric colleagues said she can fix this for much less. Her name is Dr Makgofa and she is on her way here to consult. Amo is very lucky because she is good at what she does.”
He explained. I was relieved on the cheaper price but more than anything it gave me hope. If they could be wrong about the price then it means there is potential that they were potentially wrong about the test results. Had this doctor jumped the gun by calling the police with a retest? I hope the doctor tested the wrong child when he ended up with conclusion that Amo was not mine. That makes sense. He could have made a mistake.
“Can we get a retested since we are all here!”
I declared and stood up. Nurse Lovedelia who was still there with him looked a bit confused but I did not care. I had a point, in cases like this you should test and retest until you are certain. Now I get why my mum had said she had been too hasty.
“What if you tested the wrong sample or the wrong child? We don’t have to waste time!”
I said out loud.
“The police advised you to have a lawyer present. That usually helps in case of problems down the line!”
The doctor said cautiously.
“I don’t need a lawyer, I need my baby. I need this nightmare to end, please!”
I could see he was doubting himself. It was not going to hurt anyone for them to check right. Mudenda agreed for our bloods to be tested.
“The lab is closed meaning that we will only get the results tomorrow. I will also try to order a DNA test. It’s not covered by your medical aid but under the circumstances I strongly suggest you do it!”
I didnt like this doctor. He had ruined my life. We went with Nurse Lovedelia to take our bloods and so on. When we came back I found him talking to a lady I had not seen before.
“Dr. Makgofa, this is the mother of the toddler in question.”
He introduced us. She was an uppity woman even by the way she stood. You know those people who love themselves just by the way they carry themselves. There is a difference though, when you see a woman whose husband is rich and she is running businesses, the sad reality is that you immediately attribute it to her husband. That’s women like Refiloe. With this one, she had this power and self assuredness that was rather comforting. A woman with power because of her brains, will I ever be that though? I hope.
“You can call me Nothabo. Am just consulting for now but from what I am told it’s not as drastic as they say.”
She said. For the first time on this terrible day I smiled.
“Are you saying my son can be healed?”
I said so excited I could not help but jump up and hug her. I felt kind of stupid when she did not hug me back but she smiled at least.
“It’s early days yet but I am hopeful!”
She said and walked away. I was not given any more information but going home was not an option. My mother came and said we should leave but I was scared that if I go I will end up in a situation were I will come back to find that they had moved Amo somewhere else. I mean where was the expert before? Now all of a sudden they had one. I smelled a rat. It was already late though so I needed a place to sleep.
“I will keep you informed don’t worry!”
Lovedelia told my mother. I wanted to fight more but I was tired. I needed a bath and to refresh. There was no point trying to fight them exhausted meaning much to my displeasure I allowed myself to be led home. It had been an emotional day. As soon as I got home I allowed myself a few hours of sleep. I didn’t even dream and that much I am so grateful for.
“I am also going to head out now!”
Aurelia said. I found her sitting with Thulare and guess who, Mudenda!
“How did you feel when the police asked you to leave because you were not there when your son was born? Are you prould of yourself? Do you call yourself a man in that moment?”
I said to him taunting him angrily. I don’t know why I said that, I am the one who picked the fight.
“Faith come on, let it go! We have bigger things to worry about! I spoke to my lawyer cousin. He will be here in the morning!”
Thulare said coming to push me away but I was not done with this sorry excuse for a man. I am not the only South African woman who is fed up with these deadbeat father’s. I wish I was president, I swear I would have these useless men rounded up and shot!
“Do you hear that you stupid son of a bitch! Another man is offering to get me legal to save your son, our son! Are you not even ashamed of yourself? Sies! Ngwana wa satani!”
“Where was this so called good fantastic man in Sun City when I was fucking your brains out? Remember I better I bent you over like the bitch you are and hit it doggystyle? So yes I might be useless but my dick was not when you were moaning in front of Aurelia and her cheeseboy!”
Mudenda said loudly but very calm so that he could not be misheard. I turned around and the pain in Thulare’s eyes as he stepped back!
I fucked up!
Michael Nkululeko Maphoto (fb)
Thank you for reading my letter. I was introduced to your blog by a girl in my community who found me in the streets. I don’t know were else to turn. I’m a 16 year old ex prostitute and I would like to share my story with you.
My mother passed away from cancer when I was 12 years old. She was my source of strength. After her passing I was placed under my eldest brothers care. My mother had put so much energy in growing my natural talents. My brother didn’t believe in all of this and that was when the pain got worse. I felt neglected and unloved so i began looking for love on the streets. I dated my first boyfriend who was a drug dealer and I was just 12 years old. I began feeling worthless then on my 13th birthday I got raped by my cousin. I was never the same after that. I was depressed and suicidal. On my third suicide attempt I was diagnosed with Bipolar Mood Disorder. You know I honestly wish I had died but even then I could not even kill myself. How messed up is that? Can’t even be good at that.
I became very violent. I was shattered. Meanwhile depression was killing me. I was hallucinating and the suicide attempts were getting out of hand. I was in an out of psychiatric facilities at the ages of 14 and 15. Two years of my life were spent in a depressive daze. Social workers were introduced to my case and i was taken out of my brothers care. I was placed under my maternal grandmothers care and that was when i began prostitution. I had just turned 16 and I was living in a house with my 12 relatives mostly my cousins. We all had to fend for ourselves. Each person had to provide their own food. I was fresh out of depression and was on my Bipolar medication.
I was taking 9 tablets a day on an empty stomach. I would feel dizzy and weak and I had no one supporting me. So i decided to stop my treatment. During this time I had not been re- instated at school and i tried talking to my uncles and aunts asking them to contribute towards my school fees but none of them believed that I was ever going to be normal again. I resorted to prostitution to and initially it was to buy cosmetics and clothes and food and to provide money for transport when I attend my therapy sessions and when things got too bad at home, the name calling and shaming which I had to endure cause of my mental illness I left and went to the streets and lived in a brothel where I had to pay rent daily so I can have a place to stay and had to sleep with at least 8 men weekly so I can afford to pay rent and to have food, buy clothes, some days when business was bad I resorted to four men who were taking advantage because I had to sleep with all four of them at the same time and charged them for price of one because rent had to be paid, I needed to have that one meal at least while I hope that my tomorrow will be much better .
I still sent money home despite how I was treated, I did this for a year and only a month ago I decided to put an end the life In the streets. I’ve been trying very hard to make my life stable again. I only have grade 8 and this past week I have gone to most high schools in my area in Umlazi and they say they don’t take grade 9s, I wish to go back to school, get a place to stay where I can have emotional support,I want to go back to my treatment. I want overcome my painful past and live a normal life like other kids. If there’s anyone who can offer any sort of help I would highly appreciate it. I am not asking for money but for a second chance.
I promise not to disappoint because I know God did not put me in this world to suffer like this.
Thank you for your time.
PS: This is not her real name because she is 16 and has to be protected. I spoke to this young lady yesterday and the reader who encouraged her to write to us. This is a big case and a painful one. Some people in the Durban area especially might thing they are unable to help but you can. What’s important is to find a social worker willing to take the case, a headmaster willing to accommodate her in his or her school, a psychologist willing to counsel her, a doctor willing to examine her but most importantly a home were the cycle of abuse stops … please friends, let’s help someone who needs this so desperately. Mike