“Lean On Me When You’re Not Strong”
“Lean on me when you’re not strong;”
that’s the most comforting words on the planet. Considering the way I grew up,
I’ve never experienced a mere part of that saying.
Hello, my name is Portia Pontso
Tsherane. I was born on September 1, 1996 at Venda. As a young girl I didn’t
receive true love from my parents. I grew up in many different families with
difficult situations. I thought that growing up without a parent I was nothing
in this world.
My mom came from a Christian family
in which, her father was a bishop of the Old Apostolic Church of United and her
mother came from the Royal Family of Haleshiba. My mother was from a village
called Tshirolwe at Venda. She is strong and has done a lot to bring a family
together. My father worked at Tshikondeni Mine. He is strong and powerful,
peaceful in his undefeat. But after some years when my brother was born, my
father got arrested and he went to jail at Matlashe near Thohoyandou. When my
mother was pregnant with me, my father was still in jail.
I never went to church, but other children my
age were going to church. For me it was very painful not going to church. I
started school in 2002, when I was six years old at Mutititi Primary School. Since
school was at the top of the mountain we had to pass the village graves on our
way there. We had to cross a small river. At the time I was so scared that I
wasn’t going to make any friends. I thought I was going to be alone the whole
day, but as a young girl I never let myself down.
When my father returned from jail I was in
grade 1. He told my mother to come and stay with him at the end of the year. We
moved to Indermark in 2003. I was so bored. I asked myself, “How am I going to
start a new life?” It was so hard for me to move from my village to another.
When we arrived at Indermark it was so different
from Venda. The one thing that frustrated me was the abundance of cows and
donkeys in the streets, people fetching water from the river, and the loud
noises. On the other hand, Venda was located on a big mountain in the quiet of
nature.
The 25th of December, Christmas Day,
was great. My mother cooked food for the family and put everything on the table
in hopes for the best. Everyone in the family was happy except me, because at
Venda during Christmas time we go to Church to celebrate Jesus Christ. At
Indermark, people drink and walk on the streets the whole day. There was
nothing I could do, since Indermark is different from Venda.
New Years and Christmas was over and the time
to go to school was coming. I began Grade 2 in 2004. I did have fun with other
kids on the street though. When school opened, my mother chose a beautiful
school for me called Boikhutso. In the morning, my mother prepared everything
for my first day at Boikhutso Primary School. I was so scared and afraid. I
kept thinking, “How am I going to start a new life in a new school?” However,
my brother and I had a great day. I met some of the learners. My brother was in
grade 4a. The principle of the school was Mr. Rangata. My problem was that I
couldn’t speak or write proper Sepedi. I was afraid that at the end of they
year I was going to fail. Through the whole year I tried my best and eventually
made it. My report card had good results.
Several years have passed and now I am 10 years
old. it is December 24th 2006 Christmas Eve. It was morning and my
parents were watching television it was raining and my brothers and sister were
playing outside. I asked my parents for money to buy a pair of All Star tennis shoes;
but, they refused and said they did not have the money. I wanted a pair of All
Stars because my friend had them. It was Christmas time and I was feeling sad
that I didn’t get what I wanted. My parents didn’t even buy me clothes even
thougher they bought my brothers some. There was nothing I could do as a born
free generation. I thought maybe its due to an equality or poverty.
In 2008, my friend moved to Mphukaneng Primary
School. It was a long distance from Boikhutso Primary School. She moved because
she was afraid of a teacher. The way that we used to be and what we did was
different from others. We shared pocket money, one school bag, food, and
clothes. Everything that we had, we were sharing. Sometimes her grandmother
would let her stay at my home, or I would even go and stay with her. Through
our hard relationship, I felt like I was a loser. But there was nothing that I
could do. I joined other groups of children, but it wouldn’t help me be the
same as I was with my old friend.
My younger brother and I were playing with
water, when mother came. She never asked what we were doing; she just started
to beat me. I turned back and ran holding scissors in my hands. I threw it at
my mother and it stabbed her in the leg. The blood ran in rivulets down her
leg. She never talked to me. She told my younger brother to go and call my
father. I thought to myself, “What have I done?” My father came and ignored me,
taking my mother to the hospital. I stood there until they came back. My father
found me standing in the front door, he slapped me with his big hand, and I
fell like I was in another world. I did cry. He pushed me inside the house and
started to beat me. After some hours they started to tell people what had
happened. My mom was outside and I was in the house. The whole family started
to know that I had committed a crime. I apologized.
In 2009, I went to Venda and never came back. I
stayed there with my grandmother the whole year. I was in grade 7. My
grandmother treated me well rather than my parents, because she loved me and I
took care of her. She gave me pocket money, when I went to school. I was well
loved by everybody, especially the teachers, the principal Mrs. Mphanlele. I
love going to church, as I am a good child. I was good at participating in
school. I like running and playing netball. Out of all the children at school
the principal made me organize her office, as she trusts me.
In 2010, my father and mother went to
Mpumalanga to look for jobs. My younger
brother and I stayed with my older brother. Now I started to see the view of
the world in a different way. I joined other groups of girls. I started to
change my lifestyle. As my parents were not at home I started to go to clubs,
drink beer, and smoke. I started having sex with boys who were older than me.
Everybody started to know, that if you go to that girl, she is free. She
doesn’t care. She can give you whatever
you want. She can’t complain, especially if you want to have sex. She is free.
These were the thoughts that entered my head daily. Therefore, “There’s no one who owns me.” I felt like a
grown woman because I had the responsibility of cooking for my young brother
and sisters. When my parents returned back home I corrected my behavior. I
started to be the girl that I was before my parents went to Mpumalanga.
In 2011, I was in grade 9. I was fifteen years
old. I found other friends. I started to be a cool girl. I stayed away from
boys. At that time things were better than before.
On a Saturday, I was walking along the street
during the day to meet my school class friend to do homework. Unfortunately, I
met a boy and he distracted me. It was
the first time I saw his face. He said, “Stop.” I stopped. He told me that he
loved me and he wanted to sleep with me. I refused. He started to beat me with
his hands. I never cried. He used his shoes and beat me. At that time there
were no people on the street. When he left me, I went home and didn’t tell
anyone that a boy beat me. The following Monday I saw that boy again at school.
The next week I heard people saying that the boy had been arrested for rape and
murder. At the end of 2012, they told me that my grandmother was ok. I visited
her and ended up never going back. I stayed there with her.
In grade 10 I started to see the importance of
school. I choose the history stream as I like it very much and I like politics.
I met some of the learners that I went to school with when I was in grade 7 at
Mutititi Primary School. I want to finish my education while I am young so I
can get a better job when I finish school.
When I am in Venda where my grandmother lives I
realize that things never change. We continued to go to church. When I am in
Venda the terrible memories start to make me feel sad about my best friend. She
went to a party and never came back. They looked for her and the following
month, they found her dead. Parts of her body were no longer normal. One
breast, her head and brain were gone. It was so painful. Her family was not
rich. She was staying at a shack. They buried her. I felt like my mind was out
of control. We used to share the same pack, money and school bags. She would
come to my house to pick me up in the morning to go to school. I miss her and
can’t forget her. She was my best friend.
At the end of the year, another tragedy happened.
My neighbor, a boy died in the water in December. His father gave him money to
visit him in Durban. He went to the river to swim and he was gone forever. He
never came back. Even though he was with his friend he couldn’t be saved. His
friend went home and told his parents that the boy didn’t get out. The family
went to the river, but couldn’t find their son. His father came back and was
very angry. However, no one should be blamed. The following day, the police
came and found the boy dead under the water.
My grandmother is my hero. She made me see and
view the world in a different way. She pushes me to push myself to reach the
stars. She made me love and respect other people. And in that I way I myself
became stronger. I have been physically punished for my mistakes. I’ve had to
walk barefoot, being pricked by thorns under my feet, but under that entire
struggle I told myself, “There’s tomorrow.” My ambition is to study hard and
get into a good occupation. I want to open a huge project in my village and
employ the unemployed people. I will have the husband of my dreams work with
me, not for me. He will share the good and the bad times with me. He will be
the home of my heart. He will accept me as I am. He will love me for me and we
will have children. Our children will be given the love that I never had.
During all my spare time, I will play with them, share my stories, and love
them. We will teach them about life and to grow up as wise individuals.
Now in grade 11 at Marumofase Secondary School,
everybody hates me, because I’m from Venda. Since many teachers are from Venda,
when I write a test and get high marks, they say that the teacher gave me
marks. I never keep that on my mind. We write a test again and they shout at
me. I became very stressed and felt like I was a troublemaker at school. I
started to get lower marks, because I could not read. I never told my mother
what happened at school. I continue to persevere to fulfill my dream of
becoming a lawyer. After all the difficult things that I have suffered, I am
now capable of dealing with them and seeing the sunshine in the kindness and
laughter of others.
Written by Tsharani Portia
Pontsho Tshumbedeo
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