I was born and brought up in Tagamenda village, Iringa region of Tanzania. All was manageable until a few months after my 12th birthday, when my mother died of AIDS. This was when the meaning of life changed for me. From then on, my very sick father struggled to take care of me and my brother - Kesali, in the face of insensitive village gossip and widespread discrimination.
People were hardly nice to us, so when Aunt Usha came visiting last year and offered to take me with her to Dar es Salaam, we were all joyfully astounded. To relieve my father of some burden, Aunt Usha promised to take care of me and enrol me in a secondary school in Dar es Salaam, while I help in taking care of her baby and doing some domestic chores for her and her husband - Uncle Hamisi. More exciting was her proposal to send my monthly salary to Iringa for Papa and Kesali's upkeep. I was very happy at this offer, knowing that I would be getting quality education in the much-talked-about Dar es Salaam and working at the same time to support my family; they were all I had left after all.
And so with all the 5 dresses I had in the world together with my tired sandals, I left the place that I had called home for 14 years, even though I was a little sad about leaving Papa and my sweet little brother. However, a great comfort came from the fact that life would become brighter and perhaps - more promising.
Looking back now, I wish I had stayed back in Tagamenda with my family...
Soon, weeks became months in Dar es Salaam and Aunt Usha had still not enrolled me in school. Once, I garnered courage to speak to her about it, but she had reacted with an outburst of fury. Saying so many bad words to me, she had called me an ungrateful wretch and ended the conversation with a resounding slap on my left cheek. This was when I realised that she had no intentions of sending me to school. Nevertheless, I was thankful that all my hard work sent money home every month.
It was in my 4th month in Aunt Usha's house that Uncle Hamisi began to pay me visits in my room. He stripped me naked, lay on top of me and hurt me really bad every night. He warned me not to tell Aunt Usha about it or he would convince her to send me back to the village to suffer. I was scared and confused, so I did as he said and learnt to think about Papa and Kesali whenever he came to me at night. I wish I had known better...
Perhaps, the straw that broke the camel's back was when I bumped into Aisha at the neighbourhood market on a sunny afternoon. Aisha was one of my friends whom I had left behind in Tagamenda, and I was very surprised to see her in Dar es Salaam. I learnt from her that she had come to stay with a distant relative. After exchanging greetings with each other, she told me that the entire village had heard a lot of rumours concerning my relocation. Apparently, Aunt Usha never sent a shilling to Papa since I left, and Papa's health had gotten worse due to lack of care. Worse still, Kesali had dropped out of school and hawked petty goods to feed himself and Papa. Bitter tears rolled down my cheeks as I walked home that day. I had to plan an exit fast...
Before long, I fell really ill and I was too weak to do any domestic chores. Aunt Usha grudgingly took me to the hospital, where they confirmed that I was 3 months pregnant. All hell was let loose that day as Aunt Usha beat me to stupor, urging me to tell her which man had been sleeping with me. On my confession, her and Uncle Hamisi had a huge fight, after which Uncle Hamisi stormed out of the house and never returned.
In her anger, Aunt Usha began to starve me and beat me up at the slightest chance. I knew that I had overstayed my welcome...
While she was out of the house with her baby this morning, I packed my things in tears, took all the money I found in her wardrobe and hurried to board a bus to the village. I know that Papa would be very disappointed in me and the entire village would laugh at my misfortune.
This has been a very shameful experience. I wonder what the future holds for me...
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