TRIGGER WARNING: See No Evil Hear No Evil

During school holidays I am the one to wash dishes in the mornings. I had just finished washing them when I heard my friend playing unochele (hopscotch) just outside my gate. I rushed out to them, even though I knew I would get into trouble for not wiping and putting dishes away. The time must have been around just after nine my mother was still in her room so I thought I could get at least thirty minutes of play in before she came out and saw that I had gone. What is thirty minutes to an eleven year old? I suggested we move elsewhere so that when mama wakes up she doesn’t call me back in.

Nontando suggested that we go to play at her house her mother was not home, just her speech impaired brother…what could he do, shout? We all laughed and moved the fun to her house. Her brother was sitting in a wooden bench outside when we got inside the yard. It was the first time we’d ever seen someone who cannot speak and so we were intrigued when she started speaking with her hands. She explained that she is letting him know that we would play at the back and we wouldn’t cause any trouble. She told us that he said no plastic ball because we would break the windows. We were way more interested in learning this mysterious language the two of them spoke than to play anymore.

She ushered us to the back even though we kept telling her to ask him questions in sign language just so we could watch. Off to the back of the house we went. After a long winded argument of what would be the best game to play we decided on blindman. Nontando would be the first to count down since she knew the yard best and she would find us easy. The brother got involved showing us where we could hide. The games was getting heated when I heard my brother calling for me at Nontando’s gate. My nerves were shot. I had no idea what time it was but I knew I was going to catch it from my mother. I rushed home and sheepishly walked through the door and my mother was livid…I caught it! As usual she told me how I don’t listen and how one day something would happen and I would have no one to blame but myself.

I wiped and put away the dishes. I dragged myself to take a bath. By the time I was done it was lunch. Sulky faced I had my tea with bread, the bread had margarine - I hated margarine. I started tearing up and my mother saw. Irritably, she asked me why I was crying. I had a big lump my throat, upon her asking I let out a big cry while trying to explain how everybody knows I hate margarine but my bread has a thick layer. Still irritable to the point of anger she said “Can you imagine if I cried like you every time you did something I don’t like…like this morning. Go scrape the margarine off and stop making an unnecessary fuss here!” I looked her dead in the eye and took a resentful bite. I thought for sure I was going to catch it gain. She rolled her eyes and shut herself, back in her room. There it was a gain a chance for me to go back to Nontando’s house.

I snuck out of the lounge door to the back of the house and climbed over our barbed wire fence that tore the back of my skirt slight. I ran off to Nontando’s house. When I got to the gate it seemed no one was home. I called for her a few times and nothing as I turn to leave the yard, I caught sight of her brother signing what I understood to be him saying she went to the shop she’ll be back shortly. He signalled to sit on the bench. We sat together because the sun was scotching hot, we sat facing the wall to avoid out faces getting burnt. I was excited because I had hoped he’d sign and I would magically learn and be as awesome as Nontando was.

I wanted to ask him his name but I wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hear me. I tapped him on the shoulder and I slowly said “ Igama lam nguNcumisa. Ungubani igama lakho?” He smiled and used my hands to help me sign while making strange sounds with his mouth. I laughed with excitement. What was he saying? I kept asking him questions and he kept using my hands to sign what I figure to answers to my questions.

My hands were touching my face, my tummy, my chin. My mind couldn’t fathom how all these signals actually meant anything. Why did he keep making sounds? I was endlessly fascinated. He gestured for me to stand in front of him. I sprung up, thinking could these gestures involve leg work. He moved my hand below my tummy towards my private parts and I tensed my hand because I was a bit confused. I wondered when Nontando was coming back. He held my chin up so that I was looking him in the eye. His other hand slid my panty to the side while, and slid his hot sweaty fingers into my vagina. I jumped back and froze. He smiled. His stare held me and though I was no longer looking at him I felt stuck. I wanted to go home.

My brother was calling for me again from far this time. It jolted me. I ran home. Tears were running down my face and they wouldn’t stop. I needed them to stop. I could still feel where his hand was. What just happened? I walked through the door. My mother shouted. I cried out. She shouted for my sister to bring belt because on top of not listening I am now crying for being told the right things. She beat me. All I could feel was my vagina throbbing from being prodded. I knew I couldn’t utter a sing word to my mother about what had happened.

That evening I went to sleep early. I couldn’t eat. I woke up the following day and bathed first thing in the morning. I washed dishes when everyone was done eating. I didn’t say much- there was an endless lump in my throat. There must have been finger prints where he touched me, worse than the marks the belt left on my back and legs. I heard my mother tell my father “It is unlike her to sulk for this long.” Nothing could ever be like me ever again.

I stayed at home for the rest of the holidays. Every time Nontando and other friend called for me I told them my mother would be mad, even when she was at work. I hid inside books and cartoon strips. I did not have much to say. I was taunted by my sibling and I couldn’t give my usual smart mouth responses. I think I left myself on that wooden chair. I saw him pass our house the other day. My stomach ran for days after seeing him. I still don’t know his name.