My Sisters Keeper

98

MY SISTERS KEEPER

NINETY EIGHT

I wouldnt say I've faced many deadly and scary situations in my life but I've seen my fair share. But nothing is scarier to me at this point than having to face my mother and tell her everything that happened in prison.

I know her prayers were meant to keep me safe, but they didnt keep me safe from the lustful eyes of the guards. It didnt keep me safe from the countless attacks I went through and now I have to tell her that. I have to tell her that my womb is more of a graveyard than a life giving miracle. I've spent most of my life trying to make her proud of me, and make her see me as her sweet girl, but this might change everything.

"It will be Okay baby." My sweet husband. Maybe God did answer some prayers. I mean hwo else would I explain having someone like Lungelo in my life. For some people it takes forever to get their lives back and for them to find their feet again. But I did it. So maybe my mother's prayers went in vain.

I've been sitting on the balcony for a while now just watching my other miracle play. Lungelo is standing by the door watching me watch her. He takes a step and comes out. He lifts her up and sits on the chair next to mine with her on his lap. He holds my hand in his.

"What if she blames me?"
"You and I both know that is not going to happen. Your mother is not like that." He is right, my mother is nothing like that. I mean she literally turned her back on her family when her brother tried to molest Amanda. Sometimes I think that's why Amanda turned out the way she did. Even though we were very little when it happened, I used to think a four years old's mine would block things like that. But maybe I was wrong. Even though she has never spoken about it but I cant help wondering.

She chose to leave everything and everyone behind to protect us. If I hadn't over heard her talking about it with my grandmother when I was fourteen I would have stayed clueless too. Even the grandmother I thought was my grandmother turned out to have been a woman she was friends with. She was older than my mum so we called her gogo, and thanks to her we got to experience what it's like to have a grandmother, and that's why I'll always consider her my gogo.

"If you want I can be there with you." Lungelo said bringing me back to the present.
"No. It's okay. I need to do this alone." I stood up and gave him a kiss. I kissed Imi too.
"Tell me if you need me."
"I will. Thank you." 

I decided to walk to my mums house just to get a bit of fresh air and strength. When I got to her house she was in her vegetable garden. It's good to see her out and about.
"MaGumede." She looks up and smiles.
"Hi baby. Where is Iminathi?" I laugh.
"You do remember I'm your child right." She laughs and comes over to me. We sit down on the patio chairs.
"I know you're my baby but now theres a new sheriff in town." Babys and their effect.
"She is home with her dad. I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Okay, what's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong. But I need to tell you about my experience in prison."
"I don't want to know."
"I know you've said that before but its important. I want to do a cleansing."
"Oh. Okay. When?"
"Soon. But I need to tell you everything first." She sighs.
"Okay. Tell me."

I take a deep breath and start from the beginning. From the moment I stepped foot in that prison. I tell her how scared I was when I was raped for the first time. I had been in prison for about a week. On the day we first got to prison, I heard one of the guards saying there is new meat. At the time I didn't think much of it. I guess at the point I was naive in thinking I'd be out of there soon as the truth comes out. But I never did.

For the first few days I couldnt sleep. Being in a holding cell and being in a prison cell was different. Hopeful as I was I still couldnt help the fear that kept creeping up on me. On the day of the rape I had one of my insomnia episodes so sleep was just not there. I lay on the bed in the dark, the silence was loud. I lay there imagining myself out of there. That was the only thing that kept me going.