Letter from an Ex wife 4 My mind was filled with a lot of ideas. I was good at telling people to run away. Now can I really do that? As much as I hated my parents, they were all I had. What if they were not really living a lie but they were living a commitment. Maybe whatever their choice to be together was because of me. I couldnt just leave them and run away. I knew that they werent gonna understand me. They wanted me to get married and thats it. Most of my subjects were on High level. I had to avoid so many distractions before my final exams. Sometimes I would write down how I felt in my diary. That was the only way I could express myself, and my diary would forever keep the secret. Sometimes, I expressed myself in a poem. I wrote many poems about how I felt but this one described me most. I started writing at the back of my English book during class: Homeless in a home Orphaned in a family Thats why Im Emily Tho Limbesha is my name With my best friend diary She helps when I am weary I write to you dearly So you understand clearly Where is the hope Dont say yep or nope That aint dope I will look for a rope ................................. Before I could continue, my teacher grabbed the book. She read it and concluded I needed counselling. I totally refused. I told her I counsel myself and I cant be helped by helpless people. I also explained that it was just literature. I was just writing. Nothing more, nothing less. After the examination it is supposed to be engagement. Yes I was getting engaged to someone who didnt even know me. I went home and stayed a week before the engagement. Actually, his family were going to engage me for him, on his behalf because he was in UK. I have read a book by Salomo Shilongo which spoke about the importance of patience and fate. Some situations are helpless themselves and only time sorts things out into their shelves. I played along. My results were my hope. Maybe they would determine fake because anyway I wasnt going to get married, but engaged. Villagers were more envious. Some were proud of my parents, while others were jealous. They said my mother was being distant from them because her child was going to get married. Some said that the marriage was not going to last. I understood how they felt because then most children in my village never made it to the combined school. Some dropped out for various reasons. Some of my grade six classmates were still grade 9s. I guess that is why I couldnt really make friends with them because we had nothing to talk about. My fiancés family came to our house to bring the gifts from him. I expected nice novels and postcards from UK. But they brought odelela and many traditional things. I had to pretend I was excited. My family camped in numbers at my house. I felt like they we exaggerating. For an engagement they came in numbers to congratulate me but no one ever congratulated me for doing well in my JSC exams. But yes, its life, some things will never change. The following day I was beautifully dressed in my odelela attire. The bride to be. Yes beautifully dressed by and for my in laws, sometimes one just need to help people to feed their imagination. I smiled to the whole time. I had the I am lost, I have no choice but to smile smile. That kind of smile one makes when someone says something or ask something that you didnt understand, and you dont want them to repeat, so you just smile. I told my half sister to put away some food for me; two traditional chickens in ondjove, traditional brew and uudhingu, so that we would go and eat them in ekove at night. While I was listening to the speech from my mother inlaw, my half sister, Mweshitya, came in to whisper something. I knew it was going to be something about our deal. People thought it was an urgent matter. I could tell from their faces they thought Mweshitya was coming to ask where some kitchen utensils were or maybe ingredients. But, she just came to tell me that I shouldnt open the door hard in case I go to the room because our deal is done. I pretended to be explaining, with my hands, where something that she asked for was. She nodded. I almost gave her a high five and shout with excitement : thats my nigga. I postponed the high five and she walked out to go and get the food. Mweshitya was the only person I was close to. Even though she never went to school, she was smart and she understood me. I had to pretend like any other wambo. We pretend or lie about almost everything; appetite, feelings and everything. Life, society and family transformed me. We lied to fit in with society. .. we lied to be great daughters, wives except good learners. School society was quite different and honest, but it was like a vacation. Family and village was the real life and so It dominated. We had to think of mkwanambwas, pastors, school principals,mkwaluvalas, mkwanyokas and then the aunts and uncles. We had to live a lie in order to live. That is why I had to automatically lose my appetite during the first stage of the meal so that my parents and the stakeholders or the audience, members of the media and everyone who was present would feel that I was the suitable bride to be. After the meal, it was just an informal chat with friends and neighbours . That chat was to remind me how blessed I was that I was going to become a Ndahalele, to congratulate me and to wish me the best. The in laws left and I couldnt wait for it to get dark. Mweshitya and I had unfinished business. My mind was on the reserved food that she had illegally set aside for she and I. I was hungry. I couldnt wait. To be continued. .... part 5
Posted on: Fri, 14 Mar 2014 12:46:32 +0000