Thread by @JoanThatiah

He Turned On Me - A confession of a Nairobi woman told to Joan Thatiah (1/24)

(A thread)

The day I told my father I was pregnant, he turned on me. He turned on me in the worst possible way.I was sixteen when it happened. In form two. I had been seeing Mark, (2/24)

a seventeen year old whose family lived in the estate phase adjacent to ours, for eight months. I met Mark at church camp. Our relationship was fast and hot and blinding in ways that only young love can be. He was my true love. Or so I thought. (3/24)

He was the first person I told about the bun baking in my belly. I watched the blood drain from his face."But how? It's only been a few times," he stuttered."It only takes one time.""What are we supposed to do now?" In the months I'd known him, (4/24)

this was the first time he was looking to me for direction. Even at seventeen, he had always been so self assured. It was one of the things that drew me to him."Should we flush it?"I shook my head no. (5/24)

I'd heard enough horror stories of girls bleeding out while trying to abort.

"We'll figure something out. I've got you," he promised.

I believed him. I wanted to believe him. It took me three weeks to gather enough courage to face my parents with the news. (6/24)

When I did, my father hit me so hard with his fist that I fell. Then my mother began screaming, cursing me, regretting giving birth to me until she was frothing from the sides of her mouth. When they had both calmed down, (7/24)

my father ordered my mother to pack her bags and leave."It's your fault. You couldn't teach her to keep her legs closed," he said.That night, after the estate had gone to sleep and the night matatus were no longer blaring outside, my father raped me. "Stop sniffling. (8/24)

Wipe those tears off your face. Aren't you a woman now? Haven't you been opening those legs for men out there?" He told me.

There are no words to describe the mixture of emotions I experienced that night. But I know that I woke up the next morning changed. (9/24)

For a few days there, I held on to hope. I told myself that even if the worst thing in the world had happened, Mark was still by my side. There was still a chance that we could create a beautiful life together. (10/24)

I held onto hope until the morning Mark's mother came knocking on our door. It was the morning after my mother had come back home.

When my mother opened the door, without missing a beat, Mark's mother began hurling insults at her.

"What kind of a woman are you? (11/24)

What kind of girls are you raising? I've heard that one of your girls is going around the estate telling people that my son got her pregnant. What nonsense is that? I've heard she has been seen moving around with the manambas. Let her look for the father of her child. (12/24)

He's not in my house."

My mother didn't defend me. Or herself. I never saw Mark again. At home, things changed. My father announced that he was not wasting any more money on my school fees and I stayed home when schools reopened. (13/24)

My parents ignored me and forbade my sisters from talking to me lest I taught them bad manners.

By the time I gave birth to my son, I was completely alone. A month later, my father put me out of the house.With no academic papers and with a newborn strapped to my back, (14/24)

I started from the very bottom of the food chain. For many months, I spent my days collecting plastics from a dumping site which I sold for a few hundred shillings. Then I looked for gigs washing clothes in people's homes. We slept wherever we could. (15/24)

My life got a semblance of stability when I got a job waitressing in a bar. We finally had a roof over our heads. It was unstable and leaky but it was ours. I worked here for ten years. While here, I made a lot of bad decisions. I drank too much alcohol, (16/24)

I got into fights and slept with men I shouldn't have given the time of day. I wasted a huge chunk of my life.

I can't tell you about my life without telling you about John. John was a man I dated for seven years. He was a customer at the bar. (17/24)

He had an alcohol dependency. He was from a wealthy family. He was married. It was with John that I had the best days of my life. It was also with him that I had some of my worst ones. He was insanely jealous and fast with his fists. (18/24)

He once broke my arm in three places because a customer at the bar was flirting with me. In our last year together, John infected me with HIV.

I am thirty eight now. My son is in his final year of University. I'm no longer serving drinks at a bar. (19/24)

I now own a thriving business. A barber shop. I didn't know how good I am with people until I started this business. I wonder what else I'm yet to discover about myself.

This is the part of my life where I should be feeling happy and fulfilled after all I have overcome. (20/24)

But I don't feel any of that. I feel empty inside. Like too many parts of me have been taken away.

I would like to sit on my hands and heap the blame on my father but I can't. I, of my own free will, have made a lot of bad decisions. (21/24)

But had my father not turned on me when he did, I'm certain my life would have turned out different. Had he not turned on me. (22/24)

To buy my books Call/Text/WhatsApp: [phone] (23/24)

Happy reading!

(24/24)

Happy reading!

(24/24)