‘If a child tells you my story you will not wish to live
another day. If a man tells you my story you will die the minute he finishes. But
if a woman tells you my story everyone will live another day because it carries
pain, abuse and hate but most of all love, courage and hope. I do not know how
you look at me now, I hardly read but I have heard what the papers have
written. Some call me a monster; they say I killed a man. I wish they could
read at least four chapters of my story, and then they can judge’.
‘I am sorry about
what happened and if they is anyone who understands it is me. I am here to
stand by you in the dark and celebrate with you in the light’ said Ruth in a
calm voice’. ‘Taka I want you to tell me everything about your life, your marriage
and why you killed your husband, I am not here to judge you so tell me the truth’ spoke Ruth.
‘No matter how bad a man is no one deserves to die, yes I killed
a man’. She broke in tears. After a long silence she spoke again. ‘Twelve years
ago I was forced into marrying a man whom most of my childhood I looked at
as a father. By then I had grown physically, my breast were pointed and my bums
were big enough to scare any boy twice my age but still I was a young girl if
not a child. What was my mother supposed to do? She had no right to interfere. My first year as wife was ok I coped well having
a man for the first time. However I was denied the right to engage with the
outside world. I was told to be wife. And what does a wife do? She cooks,
cleans and always provides sex for a man when he needs it. I was blessed with a
child my joy and daughter Namata. She is a beautiful girl.
When life gives you lemons and you make lemonade we forget
that they are still lemons and think they are sweet. I was abused often; I got
used to it and accepted it as a way of life. However, there is always a limit
even to the oceans. Two months ago, my daughter turned eleven, just like her
mother she had a big body and looked seventeen but still she was a child. My
husband approached me one night and told me that a very rich man from the south
had arranged to pay lobola for my daughter. I refused and told him that Namata was
very young and deserved a better life than mine. He told me he was not asking
for my opinion. I decided to take my daughter away; so one night with savings I
had made for her, I put her in bus to a village far away from us. I kept it a
secret. I wanted her to go and have a life of her own. He looked for her and
she was not found. Until two weeks ago a man came and told my husband that he
saw my daughter and was willing to go and show him where she was. I did not
know what to do. I did not have money to go after her and warn her. I was hurt,
scared and hopeless. I had to do something. I had to end the life of one so
that the other may be given a chance to live. I killed my husband, burnt his
body so that he will not kill the life of my child.
Chapter 5 coming soon #keep reading
written by Hawulethu Patrice Dube
all rights reserved
a saxjaz7 production
follow me @hawulethu
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