I have always wanted to write. ‘It has to be about business’, I thought to myself.I soon realized that as much as I love making money I seriously lack the know how of turning words into dollars. Also, I soon realized that I needed to write about what I am passionate about.
I know that I’m truly passionate about inspiring people who won’t settle for anything less than an extraordinary life. Also, I know that what I will share with all of you is to thw best of my knowledge and will most likely be based on true stories.
There are issues I buried as I grew up and there are issues I faced but they are also issues I have failed to move on from. ‘Could this be my time to finally bury these dry bones?’ I have moved on from some of these issues and yet sometimes , something happens that triggers these skeletons alive.
To quote my friend who, because of her openness helped me to heal of a sexual abuse trauma I went through when I was five or six years old.
She said to me ‘ If you can talk about it without shedding any tears, then you are healed. But if your eyes still sting ,then, you most certainly haven’t moved on from it”
We need a lot more of such women who are not scared to talk about what has happened in their life. I had not met a woman who admitted to being sexually abused and I still have not met such a woman even in my present day. I had also not shared my story with anyone for fear of being judged. My mother, only got to know about it, two or three years after. I was scared. Mostly scared that she would beat me up if I told her. Contrary to what I thought, she did not. She cried herself to sleep that night.
The next morning, she sent me and the maid to a nearby clinic so I could get checked. She was more relieved than I was that this man had not penetrated but had only exposed his private parts to me and toyed it on my vagina. He was our neighbor whom I fondly called ‘uncle’. He had come for a short holiday to town from the country side. We never saw him after that.
So, Busisiwe Hlatshwayo, helped me to heal. She was the first person outside of my mother who made me to realise that it had not been my fault that I had been abused 3 or 4 times. You see, I victimised myself by thinking that, I went to his home and so I must have led him to do this to me. This is one of the feelings an abused person goes through. They always blame themselves for the encounter. I was also persuaded by him that it was our little secret and that I should not tell anyone. It was not so difficult to persuade me of the consequences of letting this out to my mom as I was already scared of her. Parents should always try to have an open door policy so as to encourage children to talk about anything freely.
I also felt ashamed and guilty. Due to all these relentless tormenting emotions, I believed that I must have been a very bad child. For almost two decades I think I must have kept this a secret. Until, after a few days of working in a new company , I met Busi. She spoke about what she had gone through that I also felt unashamed to talk . That week, I got my healing. I no longer looked at myself like dirt.
Now almost a decade after, I have spoken about my experience freely and I hope someone also out there will get their healing the same way I did.
Parents, please teach your children that no one is allowed to touch them anywhere on their bodies anyhow. Let them also know that they should not sit on their uncles, brothers, dad’s friends or anyone’s lap. Thirdly, to report of anyone who would have touched them even if they feel comfortable or uncomfortable.Although in our African culture , visitors are always made to sleep in the children’s bedroom, it maybe better to take the children out of their room and allow the guest to sleep on their own in their own blankets or in their own bed alone. I also think children should sleep separately from each other. Everyone should have their own blanket and bed if possibly.
I know of a woman who abused their friend’s son at night as the lady shared the bed with him.
Report the abuser to the Police. I am still shocked that mothers protect their husbands when they abuse the children. Some protect their relatives as well. A cow is given as compensation and that is that. That is absurd and it makes me livid with anger because that perpetrator is left to live his life freely.
- Always know where your children are and who they are with.
- Be open and free with your children
- Teach them also that they should not touch anyone’s body parts
‘Had my mother taught me about these things?’ Some may ask? Yes, she had. There are no guarantees in life but If you can try to prevent it why not.
And, so, this is who Nomsa Faith is about. Sharing and leaving one footprint at a time.