Mercy: Kusina Amai Hakuendwe

Mercy is a twenty year old student residing in Leicester, she shares her story about losing her mother at the age of thirteen and subsequently becoming homeless at the age of seventeen.

I’m still standing

For the longest time I questioned why bad things happen to good people, why do we sometimes go through situations that we feel our hearts and souls cannot bear. As a Christian I looked up to the man himself “God” for the answers, my heart so needed to heal and to be honest for a while I lost my faith I asked myself why he would desert me. For years I cried, I was in pain, the worst kind ,I went through things my young mind “thought” I couldn’t handle, but as difficult as things were I had to put my big girl panties on and life had to go on.

I lost my mother at 13, she fell ill straight after giving birth to my youngest sister. Straight after she was admitted into hospital and as a child I didn’t understand the severity of the situation in my mind she was going to be “okay”. Within my culture I feel as though our parents try to shield and protect us from the truth which at times is necessary but looking back I feel cheated of time and lied to.

The first time we went to the hospital I remember feeling uneasy I did not know what to expect, it had been a couple of weeks since I last saw my mother. When I finally laid my eyes on her she had changed, physically she had lost weight, and cut off her hair wasn’t the same woman I had known all my life, the energy was no longer there and as bad as it sounds it was as if someone had sucked the life out of her. I sat by the bed side and we had a chat about how things were, if I was okay and keeping well , how she was and of course we all tried to keep straight faces , smiles  but hearts filled with fear and eyes with tears.

 The last words until I next saw her were “mwanangu ndoda kuti usaneste munhu ita mwana anogarisika nevanhu” [my child please don’t trouble anyone, be a child that others can live with] these are the words that guide me and keep me going and strong.

Two weeks on we visited again and this time she looked worse than the first time things had taken a turn for the worst pastors were in and out with prayers and she could no longer recognise any of us all she kept muttering under her breath was that she could see the angels. That was the first time I remember breaking down, how could my own mother not know who I am?

A decision was made by the elders that for our own sanity that my siblings and I go to spend time with our other relative’s out of the city so we can attempt to keep our mind off things. We were there for a couple of weeks then one morning we woke up to a phone call no one would explain why we are now rushing packing and we immediately had to come home. The night before I vividly remember having a dream, and to be completely honest it shook me at the time but now I know it had a meaning. That was the day my world fell apart although no one would explain the sudden rush and change of plans I knew my mum was gone. From that day I knew life was never going to be the same at thirteen that’s the time when young girls have their first crush, have their first period but my reality was different I took on the role of a mother my younger sisters now 8 years old and 3 months.

 My mum’s funeral was the last goodbye, as Zimbabwe was her resting place. I remember people having conversations about me to the effect of “yes we will keep her” as if I was an object after all my mum had passed with no family here in England. I came to the realisation that I now stood as one.

Lying lifeless there was my beloved mother who never had the chance to explain to me that the man I called my father wasn’t really my biological father.  How I then found out was another story .In our culture it is deemed rude and disrespectful to question your parents about certain topics, I had always had an idea that things were not quite right but I kept my feelings to myself.

 My mum passed away during the summer holidays and the funeral happened just a week before I was due to resume school. I was distraught but I must admit when it comes to things like funerals our Zimbabwean community comes together and are very supportive. During that time everything was surreal I had managed to keep my mind of what was going on but reality hit when people had to return to their homes. My home now no longer felt like home.

For the next five years things were hard I tried to deal with my loss the best way I could. After that I remember no one spoke about what had happened it was such a sensitive subject everyone just went into their shells trying to avoid stepping on anyone’s feet or hurt someone’s feelings and to be honest I became numb showed no emotions I just got on with it. By the time it was time to go back to school I went as normal, they were alerted of my mums passing and I remember being offered counselling because I wasn’t acting or reacting the way everyone thought I should react and I rejected the offer in my mind I was doing everything in my power to get by day by day I didn’t need anyone to tell or suggest or try and dig deep in my emotions I had bigger things to worry about the start of GCSES they were just around the corner. I did well in my exams applied for college and I got myself a place.

I was now 15 going on my 16^th birthday and as a teenager my stepfather was a very controlling man barely allowed me to go anywhere, or speak to people. By the time I went to college I got to meet a lot more people started to make friends with other Zimbabweans. I don’t think he liked that very much, I didn’t take college serious I went for the social aspect of it not the education I got to the point where I gave up on myself I really just did not care, home was hell for the 5 years I endured a lot of emotional abuse I won’t go into much detail but I do remember when the cat was let out of the bag that my father wasn’t really my father. I had gone to my stepfather’s sister’s house and I was sent to the shop with a twenty pound note, and I lost it. I came back and told her what had happened I don’t know whether she was having a bad day but she started screaming and shouting my cousin at the time didn’t understand why this woman was shouting at me after all it was an accident she offered to ring my stepfather so he could refund her the money then she said she didn’t want it and blurted out “that’s not her father that’s my brother she doesn’t belong here” I was heartbroken all I could do was cry and carry on with life no matter what anyone did that was now the norm pretending like nothing had happened I was now a pro at the game.

Like I mentioned college wasn’t something I took seriously, so the next year I was thrown out for things like fighting and just my general attitude I was just an angry young girl, I remember being scared to tell my stepfather just because I would have given him something to attack me with for the next few weeks. For me to be even considered back I had to write a letter of apology and my parent/guardian had to speak on my behalf for reassurance.

 I remember picking up the phone crying to ring my step father’s older brother when my he found out about this he was angry, little did I know he had a surprise for me up his sleeve. He had forbidden his brother to stand up for me and insisted he speak to the head teacher himself. I was very apprehensive but I didn’t have a choice the main focus was to get back into school. The day came for us to go to the college 12 o’clock appointment, we were there on time waiting. After the most uncomfortable car ride I was glad to be there. The headmaster called us in we sat in a huge board room I remember he brought a briefcase, the head asked me my set of questions and I answered being as polite as one can be I was on my “changed man Chris Brown mode” then It was his turn he was asked what he thought about what I had said. He felt as though the spotlight was on him, he was here to support me but he took it as an opportunity to degrade me and put me down. He spoke about how he had brought me to England even saying the money he had paid , how I was a burden to look after and how I treat his house as a public toilet, the head was  shocked and I was on the verge of tears I could not believe this was happening to me but it was just the tip of the iceberg he proceeded to open his brief case and told the head how I was an orphan and he was just doing charity and Gods work he then pulled out my mother’s death certificate put it on the table and my father’s death certificate next ,bear in mind this was never a discussed topic as I write this feeling very emotional imagine how I felt back then. Tears fell down from my eyes and the head told him how I had never mentioned that I had lost my mother and maybe that was the reason behind me acting up he was shocked at this man’s behaviour I think he felt sorry for me so he let me back in.

The next few weeks things got unbearable how was I possibly supposed to feel better or better still move away from that particular incident there was no turning back, since I had no plan I had to carry on there is this saying “kusina amai hakuendwe” [where there is no mother, you cannot go] shuwa ichockwadi [it’s true] I was helpless and at this man’s mercy I no longer viewed him the same I was beyond hurt. I remember the arguments , I say arguments but it was him shouting fowl things and me listening I remember breaking down shouting I wish my mum was here hugging and clenching on to her portrait he told me to leave and go to her after all she was the one influencing my behaviour and the way I am. I wondered what I had done wrong and in all honesty I now know I didn’t do anything wrong it wasn’t me it was him probably in his mind he had done all he could for me and now my mum was gone he was no longer obligated to look after me maybe I was fast becoming nothing but a burden. I thought about my options they still were nine existent  I took a gamble rang his older brother just to try one more time, I had always told the older brother of all the incidents happening and was promised help numerous times  told lies about how he would take me in I waited and waited the aid never came.

At 17 I made a decision to leave. I felt guilty for leaving my sisters behind because I felt they were my responsibility, but this was something I needed to do for myself, my sisters now 13 and 4 assured me I had done all I could and I needed to go they could see me crumbling daily becoming a shadow of myself as much as it hurt to even consider leaving I wanted to be free, I wanted to feel, I just had to go.

The day I left we had an “argument” he took all the money and all I had was a bus pass but regardless I was going where I was going. I packed my bags and left I remember ringing my stepfathers brother telling him I was leaving and he asked me where I was going I told him I had no clue then he told me to ring him and tell him when I had figured myself out. I was surprised, were these not the same people that were supposed to look after me, their true colours were showing and shining through they didn’t care about me they never did. I asked myself if I was his child would he treat me like that and of course not, I was my mother’s child she was no longer here to protect and fight for me, people could now do as they please.

I couldn’t believe or ever imagined life would ever treat me like that if your mum is alive respect and cherish her because I tell you times were hard, 17 and homeless I took refuge with my friend who could only keep me for 3 days as she lived in a hostel herself. I never imagined being on the streets I was young, a female it was dangerous and very high risk anything could have happened to me but no one cared all those relatives nowhere to be seen. The only link I had to my mother were my younger sisters who were kept away and not allowed to speak to me.

 I was in this foreign land with no one to turn to what was my life, but I knew I wasn’t alone my angel was out there looking out for me. I am not ashamed to share what I have been through these scars and stories are always going to be mine to tell and hopefully someone can be helped in finding the strength to leave.

 Abuse is real it happens every day yes I have been homeless, I have lived in hostels have been shut out by the same people I called family, people who made their promises and arrangements to take care of me will now have nothing to do with me.

Like most people that may have gone through the same situation or are going through we never signed up for that just victims of circumstances. To my community out there lets help our youth guide and protect them if you bump into someone with a story and needs a hand let’s not hesitate to help if we are able bodied and in a position to offer help.

Through my journey I met my sister for life who introduced me to my mother and brother with my mum smiling on me they took me in as one of their own. 4 years on now 20 looking forward to my 21^st birthday I am proud to say I have made it and still healing. 

By Mercy Dinner