A gift is something acceptable around the world , no
matter how humble it may be . It might be small but we find it rude to
complain. Nevertheless quantity, texture or size does not change its
name. Even if you have not yet discovered it's really is a gift. We
call it Mphatso . I still remember when I first received my gift, it
actually reached me disguised as a curse . 'if you don't tell me who
gave you that, you will not sleep in my house' these were the word of
my father, the man that had been very loving in my life. There were
tears in my eyes that I could hardly see his face. I shifted my view
to the floor to allow my tear drip to the floor. The next thing I felt
was the sharp pain against my cheeks that set my head on fire and a
sharper sound that accompanied it was left ringing in my ears like a
reminder . He did not even hear me cry because he was already gone by
the time I cried out aloud. My mother stared at me from a protective
distance. She too had tears in her eyes. She could not believe it
either. It happened to any other girl but never did it ever cross my
mind that it could happen to me. I was pregnant.
For the first time in my life I realised how real it was,
I was going to have a baby soon. I figured it out that way, it just
happened so fast. I do recall we were going to a friends' party.
Mubita and I had known each other for half a year then, he was the
nicest person I had ever met. He was a handsome young man and loved to
chat mostly about how he felt about me. After that awesome party we
went to his house, well actually it was his fathers' house. No one was
around at the time making us the owners of the whole place. We owned
the place, we dance and we sang. Clearly that was an awesome moment,
if I could grasp it I would make it last an entire life time . My
thoughts were interrupted by a sudden open door. We all thought it was
my father returning for some more punishment, when I looked up I
beheld my elder sister Natasha. 'Musonda! Ninshi? I came immediately
after hearing the news' she sat next to me on the cold floor. My
sister and I fought a lot when we were kids, as we grew up we
understood each other more and more. 'Tell us, landa fye who did
this?' her voice was reassuring. I held her so close to myself and
begun to cry, 'it was…' I lost my voice before I could say Mubita.
Everyone was quiet for a while; my sister understood perfectly the
reason for doing so. She stared at me with so many questions that she
could not ask with our mother around . 'nani uyo?' her voice made both
of us jerk. There was anger in her voice 'who is this mubita?' she
walked over to me and my sister 'Muzo, landa! Who is this mubita?'
answering was a simple thing to do now but there was no assurance she
wouldn't add her own share of punishment. Walking closer to us but
only to be greated by so much fear. Where had her motherly wormth
disappeared to?My mother is from the copperbelt where the bemba
language is mostly spoken and her being bemba made quite an impact on
her children . Being around her made it possible for us to speak the
bemba language of our mother than the Ngoni of our father who was from
the eastern province, I guess that's why it's called mother tongue .
She stared at me in disbelief as I answered chokingly 'my boyfriend'.
She had never heard of Mubita, to top up on that I was dating now?
when father returned she was still looking at me 'wakamba naye mwana
wako?' ( did you talk to your child )was the first question although
it was to tease her . 'mufunseni' ( ask her )she said as she walked
away quite disgusted. 'Who is he?' he asked. I stared at my sister for
I saw refuge in her. She nodded, giving me the assurance. 'Its…it's….'
I hesitated 'iwe nizakumenya!!' ( I will beat you up ) his voice deep
and full of stress. 'Mubita' he was confused, 'Mubita? Who is this
Mubita? Iwe nindani wamene uyo Mubita?' his voice still hash but he
sounded a little relieved, 'okay, fine tomorrow we will take you to
Mubita's house. Get ready for that.' He then proceeded to his room
with mum rushing after him. It was clear she wanted to beg him on my
behalf The next day I woke up knowing what the day would hold . My
night was full of night mares, I hardly slept. Mubita knew nothing
about this, this would be a shock for him, maybe he won't be so
shocked we had unprotected sex and this was bound to happen. I was
worried about how he would react, any way he loved me . My comforts
prepared me for what was coming. Its easy to say I managed to smile
due to the fact that the ordeal was over.
Mubita's home was a thirty minutes' drive from mine. No
one said a word on that journey, my sister was very supportive the
whole trip. She held my hand and time to time whispered 'it will be
alright' I was happy she was around, she was not just my sister at the
time but my rock as well as my mentor. When we arrived at Mubita's ,
my breath could not catch up with my heartbeat. We humbled ourselves
and pretended there was nothing wrong, luck was on my side for it
seemed everyone was around, his young brother Mark opened the door. He
was surprised to see me among people he hardly knew, 'halo,
ulibwanji?' my father greeted and waited for a response before he
continued. 'baliko bene ba nyumba? He was calm and had a smile on his
face 'baliko, allow me to call them' the young boy went back in, and
a minute later a woman walked out, 'yes, how can I help you?' she did
not know any of us. 'is this the house?' father asked me before he
turned to talk to the woman. 'mummy tabwelela nkani ya mwana wanu
mubita' ( we have something we have to discuss with Mubita ) she
stared at us for a while before she allowed us to come in. What ever
we had to talk to Mubita about was supposed to be in the hearing of
his parents. In fact his father had to know what was going on first.
Every step into the house was bringing memories. I
looked at the walls that witnessed my great mistake. In the living
room sat a man of whom I presumed was his father. He welcomed us as
his wife sat just next to him. 'Ati balinakani na mwana wanu mubita'
she whispered to him although we could all make out what she was
saying. 'yes sir how may I help you?' the man was humble and very
kind. For the past thirty minutes the two men exchanged speeches, I
had already lost them in the greeting . Facing the floor, my mind was
in the middle of a flash back. I could remember the first day I and
Mubita met in school. He was quite popular, he spoke to almost
everyone. He played football in the school team and was quite skilled
. Most of the time I and the girls would watch them play, I only
noticed Mubita when he was given a chance off the bench. Everyone
cheered as he ran onto the pitch. Who was this guy? Questions ran into
my head. My best friend answered most of them as I couldn't resist but
ask her. 'He is Mubita, he plays for the school team. Haven't you
heard of him?' I already lost her just after she mentioned his name.
'Muzo! Iwe Musonda!' my sister was whispering. Oh my! I was still in
Mubita's house, how long had it been? What had I missed? A few minutes
later Mubita's mother walked in followed by Mubita. I had not even
noticed she walked out of the room.
He seemed shocked to see me but he hid it from his
father, staring at his mother who gave him a swift signal before he
sat. 'Do you know this young lady?' his father pointed at me. There
was silence, it was at that moment that I started to feel uneasy and
my faith abandoned me. 'Mubita!?' his voice was firm. 'No! I don't
know her, basakila ine olo kapena basoba' (are they looking for me or
are they lost? ) he tried to humble himself but I found every word
from his mouth rude and painful. He did not know it but my love for
him suddenly turned into hate. I did not know he was such a liar. A no
good liar, I allowed so many ideas of hate into my preoccupied mind.
My sister looked at Mubita in disbelief. 'if you don't mind me asking
but upunzila kuti?' she knew that if his father knew nothing of this
Mubita would not lie in frant of him and she was right. 'kamwala high
school' he quickly responded. This made my father see my sister was
driving at, he picked it up from there and said 'so ukamba kuti you
are both in the same school but you have never seen or talked to her'
Mubita begun to Punic 'imwe mwana wanga akamba ati samuziba mwana
wanu, are you trying to force him into accepting vintu vamene saziba'
the woman protected her son, my mother was at that moment prepared to
say something unfortunately Dad quickly held her hand. That meant calm
down so she let her words burn her deep within her. Mubita's father
did not say a word and when he did we were all silent. ' sir, I am
sure it can be hard to accept but we were not there when all this
happened we cannot take either side, I assure you that if Mubita was
responsible he would surely take responcsibility. So make sure you ask
her who really got her pregnant'
The most painful part of all this is that I heard
it all, looking deep into Mubita's eyes was all that my frustration
could allow me to do. All I could see in his eyes was a terrified
little child trying to hide in his guilt. My sister held me close as
we stood up to leave. For the first time I felt the weight of my own
body, it seemed the lord had ignored me to punish me or something like
that. On our way back home it was a de_ja_vu silence, only the engine
assured us we were not dreaming . Me and my sister whispered.
'Nalachita shani Natasha?' (what will I do?) I asked her, for I was
comfortable around her. 'she held my hand and smiled brightly 'don't
worry, it will be alright'
my mother was so upset she hardly said a word and tears only
spoke the loudest. Then her tears made me see right through her, she
was not upset. Maybe a little disappointed by the way everything was
handled, her child could make a lot of mistakes but she never believed
she was a liar. She looked behind with tears in her eyes. No mother
wants to see her child suffer especially in such a situation. She
looked back at her husband who said nothing.
* * * * * * *
My pain was far from over, when we were home my parents
locked themselves in their room, I did know to expect after wards. By
then all the neighbours heard about my unfortunate situation. I swore
never to walk around again. An hour later my mother walked out of her
bed room, it seemed she was crying from the swell eyes. She loosened
her chitenge (rapper) and gave me some money that she hid on the edge.
I immediately knew just what my fate would be, 'ngaulenifwaya please
call me mwana wandi' she hardly stopped her tears from exposing the
sadness she greatly felt inside. She didn't say anything more when
father walked out. 'Natasha,mutandize kulonga vintu mufana wako' his
voice was soft but firm. My heart was on fire, my breath failed me. I
held on and fought so hard to stay conscious.
'Daddy nipapata, nezamutandiza kuti amukulise mwana' ( Dad
please, I will help her ensure the growth of the child ) Natasha tried
to defend me or should I say stood up for me. My father is the type
that was so caring but he never wanted to be weak, he always made sure
he taught us how to be good people, he had to punish me. It was time
to face my greatest night mare.
--
Rasy
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