Sometimes I wonder if people will ever understand me. Trust me I am not a complicated person. I am just human. Considering that I grew in families that lacked a lot of love, from when I was little I told myself that I want to be the girl full of love. I would never want to hurt anyone. Never disappoint. I told myself that, if I happen to be part of someone’s life; I want to make a difference. Make them never forget me. In a good way. I have always been the nice girl. Those who know me think I never hate. That is because as the wise person that everyone thinks I am, I always preach ‘hate is a big ugly word. I would rather you say you dislike because you can contradict yourself with the term hate’. When my teacher heard me say this, he said he wish his daughter was as wise as me. When you grow up like me, being wise is a choice you make to end up not being like the people you live with.
I am going to tell you something that haunts me and that will always haunt me.
I recently heard that my uncle is ill. I should have felt sympathy but I didn’t. For once in my life, I found myself saying ‘I wouldn’t care even if he dies’. I am not that girl. Instead of feeling sorry for him, a huge storm of hate churned inside me and the ghost that’s haunting me because of him came back to my head and triggers tears and nightmares. That’s why I have been a bit distant lately.
There are many reasons why I hate him. So many but there is one that I particularly hate him for.
See, when I was perhaps 12 or 13 in South Africa, I went through something horrific. He is just a few years older than me so when I was in year 7 he was in grade 12. We used to go to school together and like the nice girl I was, I always respected him and forgave him for his horrible verbal and physical abuse to me. Considering how dangerous Johannsburg is, grandma made sure I go to school with him so I could be safe. Funny enough, I believed I would actually be safe with him. That’s like saying you are safe with lucifer. So one day he got into shower for what felt like a million years and I was running late to school. Besides, our school was far away; it was perhaps 30 mins walk. But I waited for him and he wasn’t coming out so I ended up leaving and walking on my own. I had only walked alone once and I believed I was aware of my own town and people never really hurt a nice girl. Then while k was waking a man that could have been supposedly at his 40s came to talk to me and asked me my name and I lied and said a false name. He told me he had his girlfriend that he had broken up with and he wanted someone to go and call her for him because when she sees him on the door she never opens the door. Like the nice girl that I was, I told myself i would help the Man. Besides the house he had mentioned was near my school so it wouldn’t be so bad.
We walked to that house and I knocked on that door and no one opened. Then that man suddenly changed, he gave me twenty rand and said I he wanted to lift me and feel my weight. The worst part was that he was already lifting me and lifting my school skirt trying to tug on my underwear. I started pushing myself off of him and he pressed me against his body while his other hand began unbuckling his belt. He wanted to rape me. Remembering what my grandma had taught me to do, I managed to bite his ear while kicking his leg and he dropped me down and cursed at me. I remember how I ran, how I fell on the street and hurt my knee, how o spent the wall day scared he was waiting for me outside school, how I had almost got myself raped because of liking to help people. I cry all the time I remember those scared feelings. I started asking myself that what if there were other men like him behind that door I was knocking, what if took me and raped me all of them? AIDS was popular in South Africa so I started thinking what if he had AIDS and he would rape me and spread to me. I was just an innocent Nicr girl.
Here’s why I hate my uncle. When I got home I was still in shock, sweating from running nonstop because I felt like he would want to finish his business. Grandma asked me what I wrong with me and I couldn’t speak, I hadn’t said a word all day, even in class. Grandma was worried and she started asking me if I was bullied or anything and i started crying. She hugged me and comforted me while my uncle was saying I was pretending for attention. My grandma loves me, I would never even have to try to catch her attention for me because it’s always there. So I told her what happened and she was so angry that she hastily told my uncle it was his fault I had almost got raped. He laughed at me and said I was lying and said ‘no one asked you to wait for me. You are a slut anyway’. Imagine, going through all that and thinking the reason why that happened was because you waited for someone who you thought was family and now they tell you it’s all your fault you almost got raped. I might have dislike his actions before that, but every now and then the memory of the day haunts me. It’s hard and painful because I don’t know what would have happened to me that day. I don’t know why my uncle hated me so much.
Everyday he would mention it like a joke. He would pick on me and say ‘run bitch, run to your men that you claim they almost raped you. You are ugly not even a rapist would want to touch a disease like you’ he is a vile person.
I hate him and even if I know I am a praying woman and God says we should forgive, I haven’t forgiven him. I loathe him with everything in me. But that’s the person I know I am not. I am a person who finds happiness through making people happy and changing people’s lives. That’s my aim but his existence is just… I don’t know how I can stop hating because hate is bad.
And these days I feel that incessant feeling that someone is watching me and that feeling became mutual since that day and after that I have been stalked twice since that day and I feel like it all started with me thinking my uncle that should love me was going to protect me.