Little Girl

‘Sherry!’ cried mother. It was my turn to wash the dishes but I forgot. Again. I was trying to play the game of dress up on my uncle’s desktop computer. My cousin was teaching me because I liked it so much. I liked being able to dress up the pretty girl on the screen who had such shiny and adorable dresses. She didn’t even have any ugly ones or ones that didn’t fit her right or even seem to run out of dresses. I wanted to be that girl but mummy said I had to wash the dishes, go to school and stay away from boys if I ever wanted to be that girl.

I wondered sometimes in my room if mummy had been that girl. She seemed to have okay dresses, sometimes she didn’t have dresses for church and we wouldn’t go because the other mummies looked at her funny and even though she would smile at me, I could tell it made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t like it when the other mummies looked at her like that. I tried to tell her once that she’s prettier than all the other mummies but she still made me wash the dishes.

Five years later and my mother still treated me like I was 10 years old. She still doesn’t understand that I am too busy to wash the dishes. If only I can do them after I complete my homework, it would make me much happier. If only she would yell a little less, I bet it would make her much happier too. High school is hard and she won’t stop telling me- in fact everybody won’t stop telling me that my uncle won’t pay for my school if I fail.

Mother has completely dedicated her life to making sure I never forget that. My younger brother has it easier. He doesn’t have to wash the dishes or cook lunch and wash the dishes. He is allowed to go out and play with his friends. In fact he plays from 3pm to 6pm and mother doesn’t get upset. I don’t remember ever being accorded such freedoms. My brother gets a carte blanche on curfew and yet my mother gets worried when I get home past 5pm.

I won’t get pregnant! Sometimes I want to scream at her because I feel like she doesn’t understand. I don’t play, I don’t sit idle, and I wash the dishes like she asks. I wonder if I’ll ever really become like that girl on the screen with the glamorous clothes.

I’m twenty years old now and I have job working for a Laundromat. I haven’t seen mummy in a year but she calls me every day to remind me to wash the dishes. I don’t wash the dishes right after lunch like she asks and sometimes I forget to wash them but that’s okay because I know she will call to remind me. Again. Uncle pays for my school fees at one of the local colleges here but I have to get a job to earn pocket money. Frankly I think he didn’t expect me to pass high school because he seems quite reluctant to pick my calls when I call him to ask for my tuition fees.

I stay with two other girls who seem to never run out of a supply of pocket money. They don’t even seem to have problems. In fact, one of them (Celina) was crying the other day because her boyfriend found her with another guy- whom she swears is just a friend. I don’t really know how to comfort her because mummy still asks me to stay away from boys right after she reminds me to wash the dishes. Anyway, I don’t have the time. I don’t have the clothes and I definitely don’t have the money.

The other girls look at me funny. It reminds me of how the other women at church would stare at my mother and her clothes. Now I know why she stopped going to church. I also know how she felt and what she thought they were thinking. Sometimes, I buy a pretty dress when I can but it’s never as shiny or as exquisite as the ones in the dress-up game.

I talked to my brother yesterday; he says he’s found a job at a garage. Apparently he learned how to fix cars somewhere between 3 and 6pm all those years ago. I don’t believe he even has curfew anymore. I’ll be graduating next month and I bought mum a dress because I want her to feel pretty. It is shiny and I know she will just love it. I didn’t get myself one because I could only afford the one. I met a boy and I want him to meet her. I’m not sure I know how she’ll react.


Giving up

It is easy to give up hope. It is easy to recline and crawl back and never want to come out again because of rejection. I feel as if I am not good enough; scared that maybe I just don’t have it in me but Anne Kansiime said something that inspired me yesterday as I watched her get interviewed in Botswana. She talked about how the internet- social media to be exact- was her ticket to fame. “If you’re good at something and you know you’re good at it, you have to show everyone else otherwise how will we know that you’re good?”

She talked about the internet as being an available resource that we don’t utilize. Frankly, she had me thinking. She is right, most of us don’t know how to use social media to our advantage. I sure don’t. I’m a seasoned blogger, I barely use Facebook, I’m not on twitter (I don’t even know how to use it). I am basically broke, disconnected from the world and nobody has ever heard of me. Funny right? No wonder when I experience rejection I crawl back into my blankets and put my laptop to the use of entertaining me with TV shows.

It is sad really. I recall a time when I was passionate; a time when reading used to excite me and it was all I ever wanted to do. I remember a time when you couldn’t talk to me because I was shut in my room typing up a great story and living in the my words. I remember a time when learning  a new word was fun and I just couldn’t wait to put it somewhere in my work. I remember a time when my mind was a plethora of imagination and now it is simply a blank canvas on which I place my class notes on Freud’s theories of personality.

Meanwhile, I have lost mine. My weekends are filled with bottles and long nights doing nothing. I live the fast life and run away from the things that used to really give me character. Anyway these are merely the ranting of a lazy blogger. If one day you’re sitting down reading this, I sure hope it is because you just read one of my more famous pieces and want to read more about me. Yes, I can dream still.

Random Posting

“Are you listening to me?” No I wasn’t listening, I rolled my eyes sarcastically, I was only hearing her speak. I was only witnessing the most boring speech being delivered. My feet were glued to the ground and my hands stuck in my pockets, shoulders rolled out and up against my neck… Hoodie on.. Concealing the earphones that were my safe haven. Just then… Just then.. The last song on the playlist had come to its end and foolishly I had forgotten to set it on repeat! But could I really be blamed for not anticipating this purgatory? Could I really take the fall for not seeing five minutes into my future? Because if I could imagine all the boring, nasty, slow and annoying conversations, accidental encounters, awkward run-ins I could’ve avoided. All my life I’ve had to take the embarrassment for 2. If a girl tripped and fell in my presence I was embarrassed that I had to witness it and for her too- that she fell in front of a stranger. Imagine the burden of having such human instincts and being a good guy. So no.. I wasn’t listening. I didn’t want to be embarrassed that she was taking the time to yell at me for not picking her calls and no I didn’t want to be embarrassed that she had caught me on my way out to play FIFA. But I heard her. Ahhh… The curse of the ears! So now.. I was going to have to listen and then save us both the hustle. “Yeah… I am.. Oh hold up.. Phone call’, ‘but I didn’t hear it ring..’, ‘vibrate.. Shhh.. Hey man.. No you what??? I’m coming!” I knew she would thank me later.