Stories
The story of Tambu.
Tambu is a mother who lives in the periphery of Nyatsime area with her husband and 4 children. They are struggling. To say it in Tambu’s words, ‘tiri kutambura’ hardly getting by. Two of their children are 12 and 8 school going age but they are not going to school. ‘Hapana mari” loosely translated to There is no money, is a song that they hear from their father every day. What would her children become?
Tambu has got purple bruises all over her body. She struggles to sit and she cannot hold thigs properly, constantly shaking. Her two fingers no longer work well but she does not have money for medical check-up. Ba Chiko has no money to waste. His money is for beer and Nyaope so that he can forget his woes. So, he says. Beatings are the order of the day in Tambu’s life. She can be beaten just for anything. Ba Chiko came home in the wee hours of the morning yesterday. Singing and drunk from the cheap beer and musombodhiya. When she heard his voice mai Chiko slipped out of blankets in fear, she was quivering from the cold and from fear. He monsters husband was here. It doesn’t matter it was already in the morning, he was sure to find something to hit mai Chiko for almost every day. “What am I going to be beaten for today? What have I done?” She was interrupted her thoughts by a loud knock on the door and she ran to open. She opens the door and was given the father of all claps on the cheek and she swerved uncontrollably sideways. Ba Chiko started shouting,” Why have you taken time to open the door? Who is there inside with you? Une chikomba ka iwe imomo”. As Ba Chiko entered the hose mai Chiko was given a thorough beating for prostituting herself in the area. The beating got worse because she was accused hiding the boyfriend somewhere in the house. But where could she have hidden the boyfriend there is no bed in the house only one cupboard and a dish that is used as a laundry basket and served as a wardrobe too. The other room was virtually empty, only a few cooking utensils and their four children who were pretending to be asleep so they could be spared the rod. Afterwards she was commanded to give ba Chiko his food. She ran around looking for matches, lighted the candle and took his food, knelt down and gave him. Ba Chiko opened the food and started shouting, that the food was cold and there was no meat. “Why is there no meat in this plate mai Chiko” He shouted. Mai Chiko was beaten again, this time with a belt. Beaten for not being able to take care of her husband well. Tired and exhausted from the beatings, Mai Chiko just fell down unconscious. She later woke up from the cold, surrounded by her 4 children who were pouring water on her after she fell unconscious. Ba Chiko was already in blankets snoring. Mai Chiko looked at her children and saw the fear in their eyes, the relief that she had woken up and the tears strolling down their cheeks. It was all there, in front of her. The sadness, the anger, the fear. The results of a brutal life she and her children had suffered for all these years that she has been married. It broke her heart. But where would she go? With 4 children who needed shelter and, food and clothes, besides getting enrolled in new schools? At least here with their father they have a roof over their heads and food to eat. This is where her story ends every day, hopelessness.
Chiramu
My sister Nyasha’s wedding to childhood sweetheart Chamu could have made it onto the Wedding of the Year charts. Everything was meticulously planned. It could only have been, as both Nyasha and Chamu were abreast with wedding trends in the capital. They were both fresh from University, ready to tackle the world professionally and socially. It was natural progression for them to move to one of the city’s leafy suburbs to start their family, both having experienced college years in the upmarket Mt Pleasant locale of the University. Visits to the newlyweds was always a pleasure for me, coming from our family home in Mabvuku. It was always an experience of the other side of life. It was more spacious. My brother in law always ensured there were goodies specially for me whenever I visited. I vividly remember his personal effort at preparing a chocolate fountain for my birthday. It was my first encounter with such niceties. I became the envy of my friends at school when I shared my experiences.
Visiting my sister became a norm, such that eventually, I gladly accepted the invitation to move in with them. I was going there to keep my sister company, since her husband was always at work. I gladly packed my bags, looking forward to enjoying life. I had moved up in society.
Everything was rosy, though confusing at first. I was not sure if it was because both my sister and her husband truly loved me or simply had trust in me to the extent of inviting me into their bedroom even during their intimate moments. Sometimes they would call out for me to collect the baby from the bedroom so as to minimise distraction during strengthening of their marital bond. It was an uncomfortable sight, but I withstood it as my sister saw absolutely nothing wrong with it. I knew for a fact that I did not like the way Chamu slapped my hips or tried touching my breasts whenever I was walking past him in the house. Once, when I chided him, my sister asked me to be gentle and understanding because I was the lady of the house, her ‘Musarapavana’. Without saying much, she did not discourage him; if anything, she was fairly happy for me to let Chamu be around me. Still, that brought a lump to my throat. I found myself having to concede to Chamu’s flirtations. My rebukes of these would be chided by my own mother’s daughter.
I did not see this as a huge issue to take to our parents, lest it appear as though I as jealous of my own sibling and her blessed life. After all, Chamu was the perfect son-in law (Mukwasha) any parent could wish for. He took care of all our parents’ needs, and behaved in the manner any good Mukwasha would. Everyone believed I was the perfect muramu, who took care of my sister and her husband’s needs, so I could not complain when the advances were out of line. I eventually got used to the flirting. I must admit that as a young girl – 14 at the time, my hormones played havoc as these moves were very confusing. Deep down, I knew everything Chamu was doing was wrong and therefore never allowed myself to entertain my hormonal chaos. I perfectly understood it would not end well. For the longest time, I managed to evade Chamu’s advances despite my sister continually chiding me that her husband was only playing with his muramu (junior spouse).
It was only on one day when my sister had gone out that Chamu began his advances. I felt courage to tell him off, but he literally used his masculine strength to drag me into their bedroom and heaved himself on top of me. I am convinced he knew that what he was doing was bad because he swore me to secrecy, saying no one would believe me even if I tried to tell on him. He indicated that my sister knew I wasn’t very comfortable with him, so she would believe him over me. Thereafter, he would take me anytime and say there was no point in refusing what I had already done anyway. This happened over a while. In no time at all, it was my sister, not me, who discovered I was pregnant. I did not hesitate disclosing who had been raping me. All hell broke loose.
My sister was livid. Overnight, we had become strangers. From the encouraging ‘Chamu give it to her!’ to emotions of betrayal and hatred was just one wide rift. Seething with anger, she beat me up and threw me out of the house. I went home where a family conference (dare) was held. After extensive deliberations, the family resolved that Chamu would not be sued as this was detrimental to his wife and children. The matter would be settled by making me his second wife. At age 15 I had to leave school, not only to be a mother but also a second wife to my sister’s husband. I was never consulted in all these deliberations as the family made decisions best for all of us as a family. I now have two children with my brother-in law turned husband. My sister still does not talk to me. We are like sworn enemies, yet we had always enjoyed an intimate relationship. I hardly make decisions for myself and children as these have been relegated to the family court. I have earned the label ‘home-wrecker’ and am constantly accused of having wanted to kill my sister for her husband and wealth. I have resigned myself to offering my two children the best I can. I cannot leave them. Were it not for chiramu; were it not for accommodating some of these traditional values, perhaps I would have cried out loud enough to be heard. Ends.
***This is based on the real life experiences of a young woman - courtesy Shamwari yeMwanasikana
CHIHOTA STORIES
*Nancy 13 years old.
Nancy has been living with her maternal great grandmother since both her parents passed on. Nancy living in Musembure/ Kamuruku village in Chihota goes to St Vincent Primary School. On day she was sent by her maternal great grandmother to go in search of Sabhuku Chimuti’swife at their homestead. When she arrived she was told by the Sabhuku who was sitting outside that his wife was inside their house, and asked her to go in when she got into the house Sabhuku followed closed the door and raped her. She tried to scream but he covered her mouth with his hands. She cried and was threatened not to tell anyone what had happened. This then transpired again in September 2019. He then raped her again. Again, she did not tell anyone what had happened. This led to her having abdominal pains, experiencing pains whilst urinating and also having discharges. This went on for a while until her maternal great grandmother. This then led to her discovering that Nancy had been sexually abused. The case was then reported to the Mahusekwa Police Station and she went to Mahusekwa District Hospital where she got medical assistance. However, she did not manage to purchase all the needed prescribed medicine. The case is currently in court however; the court proceeding will only go on as soon as she gets an age estimation from the doctor. Nancy is in dire need of food assistance as her great grandmother can no longer fend for her due to old age and her relatives do not send remittances back home to help support them.*Leena Ziyengwa 11 years old
Leena whilst she was in Grade 3 was living with her grandmother in Chagonga village, Chihota. One day her grandmother’s brother asked her to come to his house and fetch some water for him. Leena went home and told her grandmother who then encouraged her to go and fetch water for her brother as it was part of the relative’s duties of assisting each other where need arises. Leena went to her uncle’s house where he asked her to get into the house to get him something. Her uncle followed her into the house, where he took a cloth, closed the door and raped her. She was threatened with death if she did disclose the incident to anyone. This led to her not telling her grandmother of the incident. This then transpired again in grade 4, when she met her uncle. He pushed her into the woodlands near her house where he raped her again. She did not tell anyone about the incident and because she was afraid of being killed by her uncle she then ran away from her grandmother’s homestead to Mahusekwa where her mother lives. Leena only disclosed the incidents this year (Grade 5) and the story has been reported. The case has had several court sessions and she awaits the police summoning from Mahusekwa Police station. Leena is in need of school fees assistance as her parents are divorced and do not have a diplomatic relationship.
