obscure image. The happenings of the past year ran rampant in my head. A knife lay in my
hands and I wanted only death. But let me explain how I got like this.
'You are nothing but a
whore, just like your late mother. I don't even love you!'
This our very first short story written by an Anonymous writer. It shows what a young girl had to go through and the discrimination she had to take. She reached a point in her life where she truly felt alone.
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My name is Janet Chipolya. I am an only child. I do not know who my father was but my mother
was Agnes Chipolya.
Shortly after my birth, my father ran out on us and my mother had to take care of me on her own.
She had very little education and her skills were limited. She therefore failed to get a job. This
forced her to hit the streets and become a prostitute, or as she called herself, a 'PleasureWorker'.
Our home was turned into a brothel and it reeked of sex. Mother brought the most repulsive,
carnal-minded men I have ever seen. I had to constantly fight them off because they wanted to
do to me what they were doing to my mother.Years drifted on and I adapted myself to having a
whore for a mother.
Unfortunately, or should as I say fortunately, because it was as much good news as it was bad,
Mother was diagnosed with HIV which finally evolved intoAIDS. Since mother was too sick to
fend for us and I was busy studying for my Grade 12 examinations, we had to seek help from
relatives and an uncle came forward and volunteered to keep us. I was about seventeen at that
time.
Moving in with uncle was like stepping into the very fiery pits of hell. He was a drunk, violent,
uncaring man who, on several occasions beat up both my mother and myself. I should not fail to
say that he also tried to sleep with me. Life changed from bad to worse, and I desperately needed
a release of this pain and anguish that I felt. This is where Chris Banda comes in. He is six feet
tall, light in complexion, medium built, handsome and wearing a smile that can pierce a hole in
your heart. Chris was a smooth operator and it was just a matter of time before I fell hard for him.
I thought he would be the antidote for my suffering, but to my dismay, I couldn't have been more
foolish.
It happened after I had lost my mother just before the examinations. I was so lost and in so much
pain. I hated what my mother had done to herself but I loved her so much. I went to Chris the
night of her death for comfort. He was all kind and caring but the evil bastard just wanted to
sleep with me. I thought it was the right thing; after all we were in love, or so I thought. Chris left
mea week later. The words he had used were like sharp spears tomyheart. 'You are nothing but a
whore, just like your late mother. I don't even love you'!
I was so heartbroken, I didn't even write my exams. I started drinking heavily and my life
became the true definition of hell. God didn't exist to me anymore. On one occasion, I was so
drunk I gave in tomyuncle's advances.
Acouple of months later I started to become sick and my uncle took me to the hospital. When it
was found out that I was HIVpositive, my uncle kicked me to the streets.
Now that you have heard my story you can understand what I was about to do. I felt death was
the only option, nothing could be worse than living. Surely hell is better than life on this world.
I took the knife and I let it pierce the tender, soft skin of my neck. The blood began to spurt out
and I felt life begin to leave me. I pushed the knife deeper but stopped when I saw an image of
my mother standing, calling out to me. It was then that I suddenly wanted to live and not to die. I
clasped my hand on my neck to stop the bleeding. I suddenly felt hope and for the first time in
my life, joy! A strange entity was trying to tell me to keep on fighting, to live. Was it God, I
thought.Sadly, it was too late and I fell to the ground, weak, sad and dying fast. In a couple of
seconds I would be dead. Many people would probably condemn me for my course of action
and say I was stupid and not strong enough. But when you felt the pain I felt; when you live in
the darkness I lived in; when your heart bleeds the way I bleed then maybe you start to think that
death was my only option. I felt truly alone.
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