From Ashes to beauty: My life your Miracle Workshop

Eerie silence, and foosteps are the only music I hear. The wind blows and takes my last breath away.

My heart pumps for the last time. Alas, the pain has come to an end and my tears finally dry.

I feel a pat on my shoulder. I feel a strong presence. I feel you trying to resuscitate me. You hold me hand but as I begin to walk your hand slip.

There is music, there is life. I feel stuck. I don’t know where to go. I feel death pulling me back again.

Only one question I have?

Why would you wake me from the dead if you had no intention on showing me how to live

Darkness, silence had become a normality. Numbness, still were the words to describe my feelings.

Shots of vodka and gin became the dominant liquid in my body. The perfect anaesthesia to my heart and soul.

I had made toys of the arrows and spears that stabbed my heart. I have made sculptures of the stones thrown at me.

The secret to my survival was dying inside. I wasn’t strong, so death was inevitable. Tears dont mend hearts but the death of the soul does.

I closed the walls of my heart. Surrounded by darkness it shrivelled taking all the life with.

There is a ray of light causing my heart to blossom. Your smile awakening my feelings, I can feel the numbness leave.

As I learn to stand on my weak legs you start throwing your darts on my heart. You woke the dead in me and left me with no manual to live.

You caressed my neck and as I closed my eyes in anticipation of a long awaited kiss you vanish. My heart was finally pumping blood, yet you didn’t teach me how to live.

You woke me from beyond, where I was content. Serenity was brought by the numbness I had.

You taught me to smell roses but didn’t teach me that when I touch them there are thorns. You woke me from the dead but hid the survival guide.

What do I do with this blood oozing from my heart and tears rolling on my cheeks. All you did was wake me from the dead with no intention to teach me how to live.

Im choking on the air. I had forgot how to breath and you gave me air. But did not teach me how to take a breath. You forgot to teach me to live.

I was better off dead with no blood in me. Sadly everything inside me is awake but I have no idea on how to function.

Sadly, you woke me from the dead and you had no intention to teach me how to live.

The only question I have is, why did you wake me from the dead and you had no intention to teach me how to live.

I was only 10, how could he have seen a woman in me. I longed for a father’s love. I wouldn’t have yearned for a father’s touch if daddy had stayed.

I thought he would fill in his shoes. I thought I was his child, at least that is what mom said. Yet in me, he saw a woman

My body hadn’t matured at all. I was a child, I longed to play with toys, yet he longed to play with my body.

Noone came to my rescue, noone heard my screams of agony. It was as if the world had sealed its ears with wax. He was too strong, my little arms couldn’t fight him.

While little girls slept and dreamt, my nights were filled with terror. My nights were a hell hole where I dined with the devil and my tears added flavour to his meal and assured him of his dominance. They massaged his ego.

I told mama, but she chose love over her own. She chose a warm bed over me. She also yearned for love, after dady had left her broken hearted.

I was left to pay the price of her divorce and the price for her new found love. My childhood, my innocence was the sacrifice for her happiness.

Yes, I loved mama and her happiness did matter. In a pool of tears my womanhood became my sacrifice for her joy or should I say my childhood.

I still wonder what gave strength to a grown man that he saw it right to shatter my dreams. To drink dry my river of hope.

I have spent most of my teens in juvie. The juvie was my maternity home. I dont understand how a victim gets arrested. I was trying to protect the little light that was left in me.

I didn’t mean to hit him hard on his head, how was I to know he will bleed to death. As I look at my son, the spitting image of my perpetrator, I seem not to catch any break. Now I will always have a reminder of the man who never saw it fit for me to have a normal childhood.

I close my eyes and try to think what my life would have been if dady had stayed. What I would have become, now Im just labeled as a child from a broken home.

My shot at love ended with me having a broken nose. Is this my fate🤦🏽‍♀️. My wounds are forever uncovered, never to heal.

Mom doesn’t want to talk to me and daddy is nowhere to be found. They call me a junkie from a broken home. If only they knew the little light inside me still flashes.

I long for the simple things in life. Hold my hand and take me for a walk.

The strength of your hands reassures me of your love.

Lets take a walk, the firmness of your hand guarantees me that my heart is safe with you.

Lead the way, let’s walk slowly. The silence feels like home, your heart beat says it all.

Let the wind blow our fears as we walk. Let this walk be a representation of our walk into our future. Slow and easy, while we cherish every moment.

Let the rain fall and wash away our uncertainties. Let’s continue holding hands as it washes away our flaws and we open our hearts to one another.

As the sun shines again as we walk back home let it shine on our love for each other and bring new hope.

PS let’s always take a walk down the park.

She was never the one to tell it all. She looked strong and she had it all except for one thing .

Nothing seemed to hold her back or down. She was fierce and dripped gold.

She got everything done on her terms. She had it all except for one thing.

No man seemed confident to quench her thirst for love. She longed for love.

Late at night she yearned for that tender touch. Yes she longed for that one special kiss.

Who heals the broken. I wish I had the power to heal the widow that had everything taken away from them.

If only I had a healing touch. She was a young girl hopeful before her dreams got shattered. Before she was raped and had her innocence taken away.

Who chooses the circumstances we are born into, what we endure. How does one heal when the perpetrators walk free.

My heart bleeds because of this world. The ones we are supposed to trust hurt us, call us names.

If I was not of this world, I wouldn’t know about its hurts. But I am of this world, I plead for its healing

Who encourages the orphan to soldier on? Who wipes away tears of a mother burying her own child. Who erases the memory of a boy who just watched his father being shot?

When Im gone let me be remembered as the woman who tried to heal world. Let my ashes be blown into the wind, maybe they will whisper into the ears of that little abondoned girl.

Let my words heal the few I cross paths with. Let my touch bring comfort and let my hugs be a safe haven for that scared little child.

I am of this world. Out of it I will leave a small mark

Steady he comes, like a soft gentle wind. He awakens a part of me that I thought was long gone. He awakens a goddes..

Steady he comes and gently he touches me. I feel his hard, rough hands. He makes me feel like Im on my first date..

He looks at me, smiles gently and steady he comes. I watch him get close. With every step he takes, my heart falls deeper.

Steady he comes and whispers softly into my ear. I get mesmerized by every word he whispers.

Sadly, I watch him walk away, I steal a glance and imagine all the things we could do. I start walking away and steadily he comes and hugs me. I turn around, fall on his hard chest and feel his heart beat.

Oh steady he comes, and makes me believe in the possibility of a never ending happy ever after

Steady he comes to brighten my day. Steady he makes my dreams come true

I’m never one to run out of words to write, I have always explained myself better on pen and paper. But I found myself in a dark room with my fingers, mind numb. Numb to write, numb to think.

Yes I heard what the doctor said. I’m thinking how will I get out of this one? Crying will not fix anything, feeling angry will not heal me. Maybe its ok to be numb and freeze for a moment.

My happy place fails to bring a cure🤷🏼‍♀️. There’s nothing that makes you feel numb like when your doctor looks at you and says “Im sorry there is no cure for this, we will have to manage it”. Yes I heard her loud and clear but still I wish this was a dream. But why would I wish to have such a nightmare for a dream. Maybe because if it’s a nightmare I will wake up and it will all be forgotten.

Well this is my new reality and I have never been one to give up. There are flare-ups, happy moments, tears and cramps and yet I still try to get this figured out and live my new reality.

I have learnt to shut down when every Jack n Jill tries to give medical advice yet I’m grateful to the few who have made the journey bearable. Seal your ears with wax I think as they continue imposing their unsolicited opinions.

Well, I have fell in love with the word f**k. F**k the pain I say, F**k the cramps I say, F**k the nausea, F**k it all and kuddos to the hot water bottle that helps ease the pain but leave me with scars. It has become the perfect bae that knows all the tears shed in the dark, and the only thing I can grab when I can’t walk. Well, I say to it scar me all you want as long as you ease the pain, F**k the scars, who cares about looks when I am in excruciating pain. This is a perfect entanglement you make me feel better yet leave me with scars and yet I keep coming back for more every hour.

I don’t need sympathy or anyone to understand me. All I need is a pain free hour, day week, month. Is that too much to ask for? I know this is my journey and as always I will conquer.

I refuse to get depressed, weighed down. I’m grateful to someone special who told me that “we don’t give up”. When I said I had a flare up, I felt like I’m about to die, I can’t call an ambulance because they will only give me pain meds and not the cure so I want to quit everything. Well today Im happy, Im smiling yet the journey continues. Tomorrow might be different but well let me live in the moment and reach for the skies and F**k the days I fake a smile and f**k the days I can’t fake it. F**k it I say.

Well, maybe I might have an interactive blog on this or maybe I won’t. Live your life and enjoy everyday to the fullest babe because you never know when the next flare-up is coming, so I tell myself.

They say I should have known better or I should have seen it coming because I’m a woman.

They say I trusted too soon. They say I should have given it time because Im a woman .

Im not told about second chances and learning from my mistakes. I should do everything by the book because I’m a woman.

I have mastered how to cry behind closed doors and at night when everyone is asleep because I’m a woman

I can’t tell my story and share my experiences because I might be seen as loose and “munhu asina kurairwa”.

I should contain my feelings they say. They say I can’t tell my story because I will chase away possible suitors.

Yet again Im shoved in the dark with my tears only, so that the possible suitor can bring cows home to satisfy “them”. Yet my misery in the first place was brought by a man.

When I tell my story they say I’m bitter. They say I should move on. They say Im crazy. Because Im a woman I should sit in silence and watch him tormenting other victims.

Just because I’m a woman in a world run by men Im supposed to take it all in. Sit at tables with my tormentor, have intellectual discussions with him because I’m a woman. How do I win the intellectual debates in front of an audience when he has already conquered my soul when noone was looking. Yet I continue to fight because Im a woman

Koze kube nini ngithule. Inga vakuru vanoti mwana asinga chemi anofira mumbereko.

How Im i supposed to raise a powerful generation and birth warriors when I cant fight for my own justice.

Because I’m a woman and I have power in me, I want to spread my wings, sharpen “umkhonto wami” and fight for my dreams. Im tired of being silenced

I will speak about how he hurt me, I will speak about how he beat me. I will speak on how he forced himself onto me. I will speak about how I wanted out and he forced me to stay. I will talk about how he brought other women into our matrimonial home and my aunts told me to stay because Im a woman

Because I have the power in me to raise a generation I will speak. I know they will want to silence me inorder to protect him but I will speak. They say I will ruin his reputation but what about mine?

Because I’m a woman I will stand tall and speak. I will speak on behalf of the woman in the asylum. Whom they said she was crazy because she stood against him, instead of listening to her they protected the perpetrator.

Because Im a strong woman I will tell my story. Gone are the days I was afraid of being judged. I’m a warrior ngizothwala umkhonto wami till I conquer.

I never met you. I never saw the blue lines. I never knew that you existed deep inside me.

Stomach cramps and blood oozing out that is how you said hello and goodbye. The heavy clots was a way of you letting me know you lived inside me for a month.

When the doctor said sorry for your loss, I was in shock. Then she realised I didn’t know what was happening. I felt pain in my heart, and so hopeless. I wished I could take back all the blood into my womb and save you.

If for four weeks I had known of your existence I would have done things differently. Or I would have cherished those four weeks of your existence.

Were you a boy or a girl? Only heavens knows. The day I knew of your existence is encrypted in my heart and every month I remember it.

If you had lived, I would have loved you unconditionally. Provided for you, told you stories and read for you. I wouldn’t have thought twice of keeping you.

How could I have said no to an opportunity of having my own family. You alone would have been my family.

We never met but I love you and I’m not ashamed to grieve for you. I would have loved to hold you and kiss you goodnight. But God had other plans for us.

I sit and imagine how you would have looked like. How I would have raised you, things I would have taught you. But the heavens knew better.

You are the angel that decided not to walk on this earth. You turned that down and opted for heaven. You will always be loved and cherished.

Each day I learn to accept what happened. Your mama is a warrior, each time she falls she rises and conquers. Im rising from this and continuing with the struggle.