I
remember vividly the first time I saw my mother; it is because she was in a
coffin. I was 13 then and at a boarding school. My father came to my school and
told me we were going to visit people at my home village. It was my first time
to go to the place my father came from. As we drew closer, I saw a crowd of
people surrounding the houses. I was greeted by leaves along the road which in
my culture announces a funeral. Older women came to welcome us, they took me in
a house and told me I was here for my mother’s funeral.
I was
confused because the year before we had laid to rest my mother, so, “who was
this lady?”
I
was told then, the lady I knew as my mother, my whole life, was my step mother but this one was
my biological mother.
I
had so many questions but everyone was silent, they silenced me too. After the
funeral I went back to school, and upon completion of my second term that
school year, I went home to an empty house. I asked our neighbors where my
father and siblings had gone and I was told they had moved to Zimbabwe. I
couldn’t understand why they decided to leave without me and I had no way to
get to them.
This
was the beginning of the next phase of my miserable life. A friend of my dad’s
contacted him and my father said, life was too expensive there; he couldn’t
afford to have me there. I lived at the mercy of people who invited me into their
homes and chased me out at their will. Differences in religion, preferences,
needs, appearances would have me chased out of homes. Several times I have
dropped out of school but graciously I completed my high school. My father died
in diaspora. I have been helped to succeed to college, but school fees is now
my problem. I am looking for donations, Jobs, scholarships, anything that could
help pay for my college fees.
For more information, enquiries or to support the works of Voices Awake, email Vanessa Mwangala at mwangalav@gmail.com, call or whatsapp on +265888191832 or follow on
https://web.facebook.com/VoicesAwakegirlsEquippedForChange/
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