African Orphan

The day I knew

  I'm not sure what day it was, but I can't seem to forget how it happened.
My friend *Melody had a new bicycle and oh boy wasn't I excited to ride it. Her sister carried it to the play ground as we walked behind her, our hands tucked safely in Melody's moms hands.

I remember thinking how awesome it felt being outside again (story for another day) The wind blowing against my small face, the feeling of Melodys sweater as I held onto her shoulders for support, the sudden surge of energy that made her peddle even faster. Aah yes! This is what I came here for.

I don't know what we hit, a rock maybe, but I was up in the air first. My elbow received the first graze, then both my knees and eventually my head. Pain checked in soon after and my tears rose. I sat on the ground rocking back and forth sobbing, the sight of my own blood mixed with dirt freaking me out.

Her mom and sister ran to her side. They picked her up, dusted her off and soothed her until she stopped crying. Her mother cradled her in her arms and kissed her while the sister grabbed the dented bicycle and they began to walk in the direction of their home.

​I remember watching the adults faces change from shame, to guilt when they turned and saw me there. I could see them remember that my mother had been burried a week ago, my younger sister six years before that and my father nine years before that. How dare I forget this poor little girl?

They rushed to me and cleaned me up and soothed me, but I knew.

​The sister walked me back to my grandmothers house (Melody went with her mom) we walked in silence, the whole way. Bless cucu's heart, she did try to help me (She proceded to wash off my wounds with warm water and sent me to bed with a warning ​Nisione umecheza na huyo mtoto tena. Ona vile unakaa! Let me not see you play with that child again. Look at what she's done to you.) 

  The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved 

                               - Mother Theresa  

I was born on a beautiful day at 2pm at the Matter hospital. My childhood was amazing! I was a big sister to the best gal in the whole world and a daughter to the most caring parents and a close knit extended family.

By age 12 I lost my entire world.

Join me on this journey, if you will, as I share the good, the bad and the ugly side of being an African orphan.  

comment and let me know what you feel... xoxo