The Sunday News
Short Story by Anele Hobane
I DON’T have any words to explain the pain, anguish, the fear and worst of all the possible emotional torment of being a niece to such an aunt. It all began when my parents decided to stay in Mashonaland West and leave me behind, a five-year-old child. The moment I entered my aunt’s house, I began to feel a cloud of evil overshadowing the entire house. My body shook because of the unbearable feeling. My heart collapsed seeing my parents leaving me between and rock and a hard surface. I once overheard how evil she was, and now seeing myself left behind, in such a scenario, it terrified me.
Really, it was a mere dream of a five-year-old, who could not face the consequences of losing mother’s love. But the world is unfair, how could real parents leave their child at a tender age to the care of a relative? My conscience would not come to terms with that. Nevertheless, had to accept “new beginnings.”
Days, months and years passed by, two of my aunt’s relatives came to stay with us. Their coming grew more hatred in my aunt’s heart. Though she had two children of hers, the three of us she made hell. During that period, she was emotionally evil. Of them all, I was the victim of abuse. She could beat me up unmercifully with anything she could have found and even resorted to starving me. It was not late till I was in Grade 5 when I decided to set myself out of bondage. I met with other girls and discussed some means of setting ourselves free. Surprisingly, as minutes clocked to months, I thought of the effects of running away: What if I fail to get to the rural area where I intended to go? Those thoughts tormented my mind till I gave in. Likewise, Nosizi would not run away since she had nowhere to run to but stay. Nomsa had somewhere to escape to, and be safe.
“Since Nomsa is the one going, we have to help her, will leave her when we are to enter town,” I said in a discomforted voice. “That will be kind of you guys,” Nomsa said in a more excited voice. My aunt’s home was at Esiphezini on the outskirts of Bulawayo. To get in town, one needed a kombi but since we had no income, we had to sacrifice our feet to the long distance. We were tired of being slaves in the garden which benefited her family.
Her children, attending an expensive school was a result of our hard work. The three of us attended a nearby school which was low in terms of educational standards. Nomsa’s mother lived in Mpopoma, she did not care about her child since she was not willing to bring her up on her own. Nosizi was an orphan; she had no place to turn to since her relatives are the ones who brought her to this place. In helping Nomsa flee, it was my hope that she will present my plea to her mother and some action will be taken to prevent the abuse.
On Tuesday evening we prepared for the journey. We took soaked beans, mealie-meal, salt and cooking oil. We wanted to cook on our way since we could spend the whole day without eating anything. We woke up early in the morning pretending to prepare for school. As the house vanished from our sight, we sneaked into a nearby bush and headed to town. We walked a few metres away from the road since we did not want anyone to spot us.
The weather was not good. Since it was rain season, it was difficult to make our way through the bush. However, we finally made up to our destiny. We left her at the big billboard which read “Welcome to Bulawayo” in seeing the sign, I felt a welcoming feeling, it was an unexplainable feeling, a feeling which was different from the one which I felt home. We exchanged our goodbyes and solemnly warned her not to tell anyone what transpired. On our way back we decided to cook what we had. We gathered some firewood and started cooking. Suddenly, thick clouds of rain started to form in the east, within a short space of time, thick drops of rain started to fall. We were dearly soaked up and were left with no hope to continue with our fire since everything was floating on water. We then decided to return home.
When we were about to arrive home we met a neighbour of ours, he threatened to report us that we did not go to school, his guessing was true since our dismissal time had not clocked, it was still eleven in the morning. We had no place to hide to wait for the time for dismissal at school, however, we planned to go home. I had to make up some story to present Nomsa as missing.
“Aunt I don’t know where Nomsa went, she just left during lessons going to the toilet but she did not come back”, I said in a low innocent voice that made it difficult for one to notice that I was lying. “What the hell are you talking about? I cannot believe it! How on earth could that happen? Huh” in a shocked way, she said in a loud voice. I kept quiet and did not answer her.
In the evening the phone rang, it was Nomsa’s mother calling. She told aunt that Nomsa arrived safely but she will bring her back tomorrow morning. Sure I did not believe what I was hearing. Fear overwhelmed me. What will aunt do? Sure death awaits me because I am the one who told her those lies since Nosizi refused to tell her. I had no option but to make up a story that would keep me safe since I wanted to free myself, but at a blink of an eye, everything had been messed up.
Lately, they arrived. Nomsa’s mother related how her daughter came and how she beat her up till she confessed that I and Nosizi are the ones who accompanied her. My aunt looked at me with a talking eye which said, “She will go, today you will be my dinner.” The talks were not that long till she left. Aunt came back holding four sticks. I knew what would transpire before being ordered to remove my clothes and enter the darkroom. There, I was in hell. I was beaten up like never before.
I folded my body in a corner where she exhausted her anger on me. I thought of my parents, how they left me as young as I was, in this unfair world. If I was in their hands I would have not encountered such things, ironically, they are the ones who left me in such a situation. How then will they help me? The only hope for my rescue was through escorting Nomsa to her mother so that she could consider our plight, but it was fruitless. Just as I thought it was, I had deceived myself, it was the beginning of all sorrows to come. Times, without number, it went on like that, thus when I realised that I was left between a rock and a hard surface.
Anele Hobane is a student at Chinhoyi University of Technology. Sunday Leisure invites more contributions in form of short stories and poems for publication from pupils.
