You see me walk around the neighbourhood, seemingly bigger than I was the last time you saw me and the string of conclusions commence;
“She is pregnant” one of your friends concludes;
“No, that’s not it. I’ve never seen her with a guy before in my entire life so that means she’s quite satisfied with her current circumstances.”
“The both of you are wrong”, another added. “I read from one online health article that people here are binge eaters and it explains a lot… I mean, who can gain so much weight in such a short time span?”
Related: Letter To Awula: Body Ideal
And the conclusion grows more and more absurd until neither of them has any conclusion to jump to.
If I must ask; who exactly are those people? The fat ones; the overeaters you so graciously called me. Has it ever occurred to you and your group that I’ve gained this much weight due to the stress of “my current circumstances”?
Report: Why Marry To Be Unmarried
Dear You: Myself
I look myself in the mirror and the person that reflects back does not resemble me at all;
Dull chocolate eyes, sunken cheeks, five o’clock shadows under my eyes and the forever thinning frame is what reflects back. I can’t say I approve of the person I’ve become.
I suppose I might as well tell you who I really am inside this small cocoon I call my bedroom… My bedroom is the only thing, unlike the outside world, that has seen me at my worst. Outside this room, I’m a completely different person… not physically; no, but you get what I mean;
I’m one who smiles regardless of just how heavy the burden on my shoulders feels like; or laughs even when my world proceeds to fall apart.
But something is eating me on the inside and I don’t have the guts to ever share it with anyone I know… Not even a stranger in fear of being judged… But then again who wants to be cast with judging gazes where they go?
I’m a shadow of who I used to be and that’s a fact. Just a skeleton with enough flesh to be considered human. I’m a walking corpse (that’s what I am).
Dear You: Mixed Feelings About Last Night
My friends and I had mad fun last night;
I’m talking good music, good company and all kinds of booze… cheap or expensive, you name it.
Things began to become boring a few hours into the chilling session and nothing fun could be done and because of that very same reason, we decided to hit the club once and for all.
So my friend Simon approached this hammered girl and began conversing with her.
That morons hormonal levels must have skyrocketed the minute he first became tipsy and now he was on a mission to find himself a girl to sleep with.
The girl’s dress sense outdid all the other girls in the room but then again I learnt from one of the guys she was a fashion student.
I turned away a minute or two to respond to Mani’s question and the next thing I know Simon and the girl had disappeared;
None of the guys would have been able to tell me where they went, judging by their drunken states.
I quickly rushed to the bathroom due to the overwhelming need to relieve myself. There, I witnessed Simon practically forcing himself on the girl who seemed to have sobered enough to attempt to fight him off.
If you were in my predicament, what would you have done?
I decided to remain quiet about it. Writing down a statement was a process itself so imagine just how many processes I had to endure just to report something I had no evidence of it happening. Besides, if I don’t report it, I didn’t see anything, right?
Related: Don’t Touch My Hair
Dear You: My Rape Story
I overheard you and the rest of the group talk about how I shouldn’t go around claiming to have been raped when I practically asked for it.
I have a few questions for you and the group;
How is it that I asked for it?
Was it my clothing, the very same clothing I’ve worn for ages and feel comfortable in?
Was it how my body seemed to have been hinting at something not even I knew the meaning of?
Or was it because I was too friendly towards him that strangers would mistake it for being flirtatious?
Was it because I had honestly told him that I was a virgin and that I preferred to wait for my husband?
I really need answers to know what exactly was it that I did that led to him shattering my world the way he did … please.
Related: We Are Our Brother’s Keeper…Apuuuuuu
Dear You: My Family Issues
Polygamy is a word I have grown to greatly fear and simultaneously despise for the past 2 weeks.
I got called to the family room by my parents after everyone had retreated to their respective rooms after dinner;
“Go pack your bags and get enough rest starting from today onwards. We are leaving in a few days and until then stay clear of those boys you call your friends. And return home as soon as your classes are over; understood?”
“Yes, father” I confusingly and obediently agreed. I mean, what else was I supposed to do; question my father about where we’ll be headed? Oh trust me, I would have if I was allowed any right to do so.
But you see, my father is a traditionalist and what he says goes. My mother and I simply and respectfully bow our heads and respect his decision.
Related: My Father Wasn’t The Best Dad Ever
Had it not been for my relentless enquiry, I wouldn’t have found out from my mum why I was being moved. I came to know just how my father had sold me to his polygamous friend for a few shares at one of his friend’s companies. But of course, I refused;
I ran away from home and silently sat at my place of refuge. I had every intention to remain so until my parents forget I once existed.
It should bother pa that he sold me to his friend for a few lousy shares.
Related: Mother’s Silent Pleas for Help
Dear You: My Suicide Note
By the time you read this, I’ll either be declared dead or in a comatose on my critical state.
Nothing is worth living for anymore…
I mean, I know there are others out there who have it far worse than I do. Does it mean that I should forget just how drastic my life has taken a turn for the worst over the past six months? Or how things seem to worsen with every single day that passes by?
No, right? Wrong! Well then, I don’t necessarily need your approval or response for that matter; because at the end of the day, I’m ending my life and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
Oh and before I forget;
I’m sorry I sounded rude or that I sound rather selfish;
Really, I’m sorry that I never feel enough to deserve anyone’s empathy or sympathy for that matter;
I’m sorry that I’m this depressed;
And most importantly, I’m sorry things had to be this way.
Related: Kenyan Girl in Accra: Eight years on
Author’s Note on Rediscovery
Grieving: Sometimes, we try to shove our feelings aside, usually without luck. But those feelings get out anyway. To succeed, you have to face your fears squarely. Make time to grief if and only if you plan on moving on.
Moving on: The best thing to do when you move on is simply moving on; don’t listen to anybody; set goals, work on your goals, and stay connected to positive people.
Story By: Refiloe Dimakatso
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