A short story by Blessing Musarurwa Chipere.
“Violence against women is perhaps the most shameful human rights violation, & it is perhaps the most pervasive. It knows no boundaries of geography, culture or wealth. As long as it continues, we cannot claim to be making real progress towards equality, development & peace.” – Kofi Annan
For as long as I can remember, pain is all I have known. I have shed countless tears as life's merciless cold hostility beats ruthlessly at the frail me and I am left wondering. I wonder if there is some place, some sanctuary for those like me, with broken hearts and shattered hope. Places where women like me are given a second chance at life with the wisdom to make different choices and choose a different path.
Nevertheless, I carry my shame with me like a flower on the head of a gay little girl for all to see, only I’m not a gay little girl. I’m a troubled, frail frame, with barely enough strength to face tomorrow and it amazes me exceedingly how I wake up and still face another day.
As I walk, I see them, my neighbours pointing fingers at me and shaking their heads sadly. Who says I need their sympathy? I feel like lashing out at them but then again I realise they have done nothing wrong so with a lump in my throat, I swallow my words and walk on.
You see, every time I look at myself in the mirror sadness stares right back at me. My heart bleeds. My eyes, those once beautiful eyes that once smiled and sparkled have become nothing but sunken pools, rich and filled with unshed tears. My body is full of scars, wounds and red patches. He has certainly found a new punching bag to unload all his anger and frustrations on. Slowly, I’m beginning to think that maybe I deserve it but still I try, I try with all that I am to understand his pain and be the good wife, God knows I try.
When he comes home drunk and still drinking, I know the nightmare has only begun. The other day if the neighbour had not come to my rescue I would have certainly lost some of my teeth. Not that they really matter. It’s not like I smile much and I hardly eat either. I can’t even remember the sound of my own laughter, or the last time I laughed. Can you believe that? But ask me about shame and pain and I will write one book and yet another because for as long as I can remember, that's the life I have lived.
Once upon a time, there were beautiful days. Bright and beautiful days, when in my world flowers blossomed and the sun shone bright and I was foolish enough to believe that life ended in the famous statement ‘...and they lived happily ever after’. Clearly, fairy-tales are misleading.
In those days, he would carry me in his arms and hold me and yes, I would feel like I was some princess with the whole world under her feet. Then he lost his job and started drinking. Not much at first but as the drinking became an addiction so the loving side of him sank into the shadows of his sorrows and drunkenness. With each passing day, he became more and more aggressive, and slowly, the heartless monster in him emerged.
There are those times when after he beats me up he cries badly and says he hates himself for it. He apologises countless times and promises to never do it again. At such times, he holds me and we weep together and I begin to see just a little light. It’s the alcohol I guess or maybe it’s some evil demon and I just need to raise enough money to buy more of the miracle oil that the prophet says can change everything... Well that’s what I tell myself but he never changes really.
My daughter turned six today. We could have gone somewhere nice to celebrate her special day. We could have watched her blow the candles on her birthday cake and open her birthday presents but today, today I saw the pained look in my daughter's eyes as she watched him throw punches at me and strangle the life out of me. I thought I was going to die. Over and over again she whispered, begging him to stop as tears flowed down her sweet little innocent face. Seeing her like that hurt more than any beating he has ever given me. She is only six and he has no mercy for her!
My heart shattered into countless pieces and I finally felt a strong conviction within me that I could do it. More than anything, my little girl, my precious being deserved to see the beauty of life. She deserved to laugh and play on swings like other children and I could give her that. I was being selfish because I was too scared of people’s comments and voices above my own if I left him... too scared to let her live the life she truly deserves.
And so I celebrate myself because today I finally found the courage I have longed for, for all these years past and made a police report. I feel proud of myself, so free and it's the best feeling I have experienced in a long time and here I am standing at the Fortress with my little girl, I hope we shall find that healing, hope and comfort we so desperately need behind these four walls.
I look around too ashamed to raise my head but then i realise, most of the women here are just like me. We share the same story because they too are battered and bruised. They all smile at me and there is something warm in their smiles. One of them walks up to me and holds my hand. Perhaps I have come to the right place. Perhaps tomorrow I will see the sunshine and the view will be different and beautiful. I will remember the sound of laughter and hear that joyful sound of my daughter's giggle and there shall be no fear in her voice.
The end.
~ No to violence. No to abuse. We stand for women and children.
Article by Blessing Musarurwa Chipere
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