WHAT I AM MADE OF!

tezmel (66)in #life • 7 years ago

We all have our own unique stories. Good or bad our stories make us who we are. Mine is a bit dramatic for most ordinary people. It began some 33 years ago when my mum (who was a seventeen year old newly wed then) bore her first born child. She was my father's second wife... African traditions allowed such and still do in some parts of the continent. I was named Theresa which translates to reap or harvest.

Life was okay as I remember it. I am choosing "okay" because I saw both better and worse making rounds in our society. We had a stable life and my mama had her share of a monthly or a weekly special diet of blows. This was very 'normal' in many african homes. My own father, unknowingly inculcated some fucked up ideology that men had every right to beat up their wives.

My mama got tired of that shit after a decade and she called it quits. Being a single mum of three daughters wasn't easy but she held on. Breast cancer crept in somewhere after my fourteenth birthday and after an year of the worst pain I had ever seen my mother in; I lost her. I was fifteen and she was two days away from my exact age today, thirty three.

Everything in my life went from disquiet to chaos. I dropped out of school and started paying school fees soon after. My teenage self had to grow up overnight to be the best of role models. My two younger sisters depended on it. My relatives demanded of it and the whole community kept watching. This meant no room for mistakes which also led to me being my worst critic for a very long time, sadly. Stay with me, it gets worse!

Keep Calm

My mother's story started repeating itself in my own. I got married at seventeen. This was after my relatives became unbearable and my 'adulting' teenage self thought an early marriage was a wise move. I was wrong as most african girls usually are. He was worse than my father. I too stayed for a decade until my sisters had enough.

I was to choose them by leaving a man who abused me frantically but I naively worshipped still. After I left him, uncertainty hang around me like some grey skies. Intervals of sunshine and threatening rain prolonged for two years. I was heart broken as ridiculous as that sounds and restoring my self worth at the same time. In the end my self worth won.

Fate wasn't done with me yet... While trying to stabilize my life working as an M-pesa attendant (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M-Pesa), I was conned an amount of $780 dollars. I had no savings (welcome to living a life of hand to mouth) and my employer was demanding the whole amount. I couldn't afford it.

He had influence and it landed me in prison. I was sentenced for one year and some few months to serve at the largest women correctional facility there is in East Africa, Lang'ata Women Maximum Prison. Prison is hell on earth regardless of what put you there. It drained my budding self esteem and pride. It awakened bitterness and ignited shame within my soul's abyss.

Source: (https://www.facebook.com/langatawomenprison/?rf=346846715351646)

It was writing, time, music and my family (my sisters and our children) that became my therapy in and after prison. I fought my way back from hell and the desire to help others fight developed with every obstacle I overcame. I trained to be a life coach to equip myself to be even better at it. It was the first Spear Course under (http://www.spearcourse.org) here.

I also went back to school ~~which~~ am ~~currently~~ ~~juggling~~ ~~with~~ ~~all~~ ~~these~~ and I live one day at a time now. I sometimes feel as though I have lived for years which enables me to help those going through all I have better than I did. I am so glad that it's all working out for the better. That my pain wasn't in vain.