Love, still.

The door violently swung open.

"You. What are you doing here?" he asked, coldly.

"Are you kidding me, I'm the mother of your child Ronald."

"My family cannot see you here, you know my mother doesn't like you,"

Janet gasped deeply, her eyes beginning to gleam with tears. The rest of the venomous words Ronald said bumped against each other in her mind, she didn't bother trying to make sense out of them. 

Huge, dark clouds in the sky and a strong humid wind made a solid suggestion of approaching rain. It was sunset but it appeared darker than normal. A drop of rain fell on Janet's forehead.

She blinked some tears away, straightened up her head and looked straight into Ronald's eyes.

"Our daughter is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...and I'm tired of trying to drag you to loving her. I really don't care anymore. It's your own loss." Said Janet, and then she turned and walked away.

 She heard the door bang behind her.  At that moment the swift showers of rain began falling down.The tears Janet had been trying to hold back streamed down her cheeks. She just let them fall, flowing along with the rain.She was alone in the streets of this high density suburb,and she felt as if she was alone in the world...shut out from people's warm shelters. 

Thoughts of giving up avalanched down Janet's spine. Twenty-year old, high school drop-out with nothing to her name, she thought life couldn't be any more cruel to her.

 She had attempted suicide once, the previous year. Janet took a bottle of rat poison and went to the bathroom, hands shaking, and fighting the disapproving voices in her head. Then suddenly a feeling of nausea overtook her and she immediately had to throw up. She realized this nauseating feeling had been with her for several days. It was then that it dawned upon her that she was pregnant, confirming it with a pregnancy test later that day. Suddenly, Janet felt as if she had a reason to live. Even though she had ran away from her rural home to come live in the city, cut all communication with her relatives and had just broken up with the one who used to be her everything, Ronald; this unborn baby was her new hope. Throughout the lonely pregnancy, Janet dreamt of building a family with Ronald. He was rude and unloving and cold but she thought she saw some love deep within his fierce eyes. However, it was after her beautiful little angel's birth that she got to accept that he really didn't care about her or the baby. And on this day, she had gone to his house to officially exhale his heavy influence out of her.

"I gotta be strong," she whispered to herself, "I gotta be strong for my baby."

The neighbour Janet had left with the  5-month old baby complained that she had been crying the whole time. This little cutie was so fond of her mother she would scream if she woke up without her by her side.

She didn't look like either of her parents. Janet was glad. Heaven forbid that her angel resemble the detestable Ronald in any way. She had big, friendly eyes and a cute little smile that lit up her world. Janet loved rubbing her baby's small chubby hands against her face; oh what a soothing feeling it was. Something then rang inside her... she thought of her own mother. Her humble, aged mother back in the village. She imagined how she'd feel if her baby ever decided to abandon her when she gets old, like she had done to her mother. Janet's heart broke. At that moment she decided she'd go visit her mother in the village.

The next morning, as Janet stood by the roadside, waving at passing cars to ask for a lift, a mercedes benz stopped in front of her. Cars of this caliber usually never stop. She remained standing, waiting for the driver to confirm that he had indeed stopped for her.

"Aren't you looking for a lift, ma'am?" asked a friendly stranger.

"Umm, yeah.." stammered Janet, picking up her bag. She stated where she was going and he happened to be going to the same place.

To her surprise, the man got out of the car and helped her put her bag into the car boot. He then opened the door for her, as she was holding the baby and could not open herself. Or let's say it was just chivalry.

"She's beautiful," he said, with a disarming smile.

"How did you know she's a she?" chuckled Janet.

"All that pink? And those eyes...definitely a girl,"

Janet settled in the passenger seat of the car, inhaling the sweet scent of a brand new interior. 

"So what brings you to the village?" she asked.

"I visit my grandmother from time to time. She practically raised me up," he said.

It stroke a cord on Janet's heart. She felt peaceful with her decision to go visit her mother after five years of not seeing or hearing from her. And what a great coincidence it was to meet this nice man on her way. He was very friendly and they had conversations that felt as if they had known each other for a long time. He mentioned that he had noticed she was not wearing a wedding ring and also figured no responsible husband would let his wife and a baby that young travel a long distance alone. Janet was initially reluctant about sharing her story but somehow she felt welcome to speak. He was a good listener too. Oh God, where were men like this when i was surrounded by Ronalds in my life? She thought.

The car came to a halt a little distance from her mother's compound. This had been the shortest journey to the village ever.

"So uhh, may I have your number or something...maybe I can give you and your beautiful baby a lift again if we happen to be going back to the city at the same time," he said.

Janet smiled, and gave him her digits. She felt more thankful than infatuated. It was a great feeling. He helped her get her bag out of the car and then he bid farewell and left. She sighed to regain her composure.

When she turned around, she saw her mother standing in a distance, looking at her in disbelief. Janet walked towards her, forgiving herself with every step she took, and feeling her mother's magnetic love pull her closer.

The little mud hut that was her mother's house still stood in the middle of the compound just as she remembered it. But there was a warmth to this place. It was fenced by her mother's love. It was home.

Janet fell at her mother's feet and started weeping. She remembered how hard life had been without her ...how she had to beg Ronald for money for food as he wouldn't let her go to work. How she waited for him to come back to their one-roomed house when she was eight months pregnant with swollen feet and an aching back.

"I should never have left like that mama,I'm so sorry," she said, amidst sobs.

Amai Dana lifted her daughter to an upright position, her eyes swelling with tears.

"I'm glad you're back my child, I'm glad you're back."

Those words calmed the storm that had been raging in Janet's soul for a very long time.
She held her baby closer, praying she could learn to give love as her mother did. Unconditional love.

Boarding school at nine years old

The car pulled up outside the girls hostel. It was literally built on a flat rock. I watched other girls run around, carrying their stuff to their rooms. This place was gonna be my home for the following 3 years. It felt exciting, finally leaving home to have some ‘freedom’, at the age of 9.
I was introduced to my new dorm; dorm 4 St Theresa. I chose the upper bed on a bunk close to the window. My parents helped me make my bed, but I just couldn’t wait for them to leave so I could explore this new place and start making friends. I thought I was fearless. The moment I waved goodbye as the car drove off, a cloud of sadness settled over me. The reality that I had just remained alone, in a strange  place, suddenly came down on me all at once. I walked back to my room and silently cried as I lay on my bed, missing my mum and dad.
Before long, our dorm room was full. We were approximately 12 in each room, but it never seemed crowded as the rooms were large enough. As we talked and got to know each other with my dormmates, I realised this was not going to be too bad after all.
The first thing I thought would be difficult on me was the waking up in the morning. Oh the bell that the prefects rang at around 5:30am every morning sounded like a declaration of the beginning of the apocalypse. We had to immediately wake up, and by immediately I mean if you woke up 5minutes later you could spend the next day sweeping the school grounds. We’d take our metal buckets and go have our baths at the bathrooms. The struggle got real in winter when we had to race to the bathrooms for hot water because it ran out on late bathers. After the preparations for school were done we’d gather outside the dormrooms and have our morning prayer and announcements. Then we’d line up to go have breakfast as the prefects assessed if we were all dressed well and clean. Our little black shoes had to be super-dooper shiny. And our blue uniforms; well- pressed and spotless.
On the first day in class, I remember sitting outside as we waited for the teacher to open the classroom. Making friends was much easier  than it is now. I mean you could bond over having the same pencil back then.
 Our teacher finally came and opened the door. We got the strictest grade 5 teacher, and needless to say, we were terrified. However, she had great teaching skills. She sat us in groups, boy, girl, boy, girl ; something they avoid in high school. I don’t think my little self made a great first impression on her coz I had to work extra hard to prove I was intelligent throughout the school term. It took several beatings on my hands for my handwriting to be as emmaculate as it was back then, before medical school ruined it of course. And it is here that I developed an interest in a subject I never thought I would – Math…which was also ruined by med school. All those complex math skills acquired through school are almost all unnecessary now as I have to occupy my brain space with big scientific terms like amygdalo-hippocampectomy….never mind. Anyway, as days went by, I made some good friends, some of which I’m still in touch with, 12 years later.
At mid-morning we’d go for tea at the dining hall. Lunch was in the afternoon, and basically after all the nitty gritty of classes was over. We’d go and change into casual clothes before having our lunch. Being primary school kids, there was virtually no competition for who wore the most expensive label…at least none that I was aware of. We were definitely already self-conscious though.
Supper meals had the best food. And afterwards we’d have evening studies for an hour. I don’t think we actually really studied here, I for one spent the study time playing word games, drawing or reading stories.
I met some of the smartest brainiacs ever at this primary school. It  was a challenge getting a spot in the top ten. A lot of us are on our paths to fulfilling our dreams. We have all kinds of imaginable careers represented, it’s awesome.
The third term came with Jacaranda blooming season. I loved how the jacaranda flowers coloured the ground purple. Sweeping the flowers off the ground, however, wasn’t so much fun. We believed that if you stand beneath a Jacaranda tree and catch a falling flower, you could make a wish and it could come true. Most of our wishes were that we’d have our parents visit. I don’t remember ever wishing for a billion dollars. For all I know, I could’ve been typing this from a private yacht off a self-named island.
The best days were visiting days, and the day before closing schools, which we called ‘big dinner day.’ Seeing our parents and siblings on that one visiting day was ecstatic and made our lives bearable.
 My primary boarding school was not the fanciest school in the country. No. We had beans for lunch sometimes. But, we didn’t need play-stations and i-pads to keep us entertained. We’d sing and dance, while drumming our school-trunks, and have the most possible fun ever. We narrated movies we would have watched at home to each other, and used our imagination to enjoy them. We had simple but joyful lives. And boarding school was a home, a fortress, a place we all grew together into great, yet unique people.
Reflecting back doesn't mean our lives were much better then than they are now, no. It helps us appreciate the path we've walked to get to where we are. And we might not be exactly where we want to be yet (i'm clearly not writing this from a yacht), but we're inspired by the fact that if we could be courageous little beings enduring being far away from our families to get an education, we can be great older beings, making a lasting difference in this world.

A sign just outside our school read: I came, I learnt,  I succeeded. And that’s exactly what we did.
“In unitate stamus.”