My name is Naledi Bukhosi, but people call me Nina. I was born a mistake, I was different, I felt ugly and I hated myself.
My mother died and my father was left with a burden which was me. My mother was an African black woman and my father is a British white man. My mother was a mistress and my father was married to another women when he met me mother.
My mother fell pregnant and decided to keep it a secret but my father found out about her "little secret" he decided to leave his wife and marry my mother because he had fallen in love with her.
My dads ex wife became jealous and killed my mother on my 11th birthday. My father became depressed and lost control of his anger. He was always abusive towards me after my mother's tragic death, he used to beat me up until I was unconscious and he would cut my hair and buy me male clothing because he couldn't stand the similarity of my mother and I. He would always lock me in my room during school holidays and he only fed me once a day, if he remembered.
I didn't have friends because I was different and no one was willing to accept me no matter how much I tried. I have always been a victim of bulling because of my malnourished body and my race, and that caused me to look down on myself and hate everything about me. I tried to kill myself mutiple times but it didn't work so I gave up trying.
One morning I was preparing for school my dad come home drunk, his eyes were swollen and red so I could tell he was crying again. I managed to escort him on the couch and take off his shoes so that he can sleep. He grabbed my neck and started kissing me, the harsh stench of alcohol bombarding my nose, he ripped my school shirt off and continued kissing me. "God damn, you even smell like her." He said. I reached for the lamp above me and I hit his head, he had a massive gash on his forhead. I thought I killed him until I saw him breathing.
I decided to steal money from his wallet, I rushed to my room and grabbed my important documents, a small bag with clothes, tinned food and water. I prepared this bag weeks ago I just didn't have the guts to run but now I have no choice.
So where to go?
When I was young my mother used to tell me stories about her mother and her younger sister, she also told me they live in a small village in the Eastern Cape called Mvezo. I was only 15 years old and I was heading to Mvezo to find a new life. I felt horrible for leaving my dad but I had no choice, I knew he would kill me when he woke up. I prayed once I got in the bus that I would find them and they would accept me although I felt as if they wouldn't accept me because I am different, I was a mistake and I am sure they don't know about me.
I finally reached Mvezo after spending 9 hours in the bus and 2 hours in a taxi. The taxi driver told he had never heard of the surname Bukhosi but he will drop me off at the Chief's house and they will help me.
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Ayanda Funda♡
