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Fadzayi Maposah

Correspondent

I remember my father’s solo shopping trips. They were many.

WaMambo would come home with various plastic bags. My siblings and I would receive the plastic bags and as long as it was not food, we would take these bags to my mother, Ma Ncube and almost every time she would tell us to take them to their bedroom. Then we would wait eagerly to be called to our parents’ bedroom. 

Then the calls would come. Fadzi! Chaka! Those two names resulted in all of us at our parents’ door. It was like I represented the girls and Chaka the boys!

On one of the occasions that we were called to our parents’ bedroom, I was handed a bright yellow summer dress. It had two straps and a very colourful front that was decorated with amazing smocking stitch. The dress blended so well with my dark chocolate complexion.

I remember my siblings and I thanking our parents with wide smiles on our faces. My parents had this thing about getting us clothes, it was either all of us, or just the girls or just the boys or the eldest or the youngest. So even if one didn’t get something, one always remained hopeful that their turn would come and it always did!

Back to my bright yellow dress. On very hot days I would wear it showing off my shoulders. On other days I would wear it with a t-shirt or blouse under the straps. I loved my dress. As I got older, the dress became shorter. It had to compete with my height, a budding bust and widening hips!

I loved my dress and dreaded the day Ma Ncube would say that I had to hand it over to Nyari. Each time I wore that dress when I was in high school, I would do so dreading hearing Ma Ncube telling me to take it off and put it away for Nyari. Be kind to me — I was just holding on to what I loved!

One hot December morning when I woke up and from the open wardrobe I could see my yellow dress beckoning me. This was just the day to wear it as I read a book under a tree. Despite my being in high school, the routine at home remained the same. My brothers still played soccer and occasionally included Nyari and Tendi while I read my books. The only difference being that I had moved from the Nancy Drew series to Pacesetters and Mills and Boons.

So since it was the school holiday we had lots of free time. This era was before the extra lessons that we see these days. School holidays were really free time!

I got out of bed and like any other day, the first port of call would be the toilet, then the bathroom and then the kitchen where it was always guaranteed that I would find Ma Ncube having tea.

I walked into the toilet. What I witnessed, dented my morning. I sat on the toilet seat cupping my face. It had happened. I was at a loss of what to do. Scream? Celebrate?

I longed to be at boarding school . . . I longed for the total female environment . . . The Bubbly Trio . . . I wanted to be with my friends . . . the period monitors. I needed a period monitor.

Hey, I had been monitoring other girls’ periods but on this day no one would monitor mine . . . 

Then someone knocked on the toilet door. It was one of my brothers. I quickly flushed, did a hard and quick look around and then opened the door. My brother literally walked through me. I stood in the passage for a bit and then walked to the kitchen.

Ma Ncube looked up when I walked in. The way she looked at me only confirmed that my face broadcast that something was wrong.

I did not wait for her to ask what was wrong. I remember saying ‘It has happened’ And when she looked at me bewildered, I simply pointed at my stomach and then at the ceiling. I had seen some girls doing that at school. Ma Ncube did not seem to understand any of the signals. I was afraid to say it out loud in case any of my siblings walked in. I went really close to her and just whispered ‘blood’.

I remember Ma Ncube getting up and holding my hand as if I was still in junior school.

She led me into the girls’ bedroom where Nyari and Tendi were fast asleep. She ravaged through my underwear drawer and then handed me a pair of panties. I felt like a baby. Then she whispered ‘get a pad and go and bath’. Then she went to her bedroom. Up to this day I don’t know if she told WaMambo that ‘it’ had happened and if she did how she said it. But that day I bathed before my father who had to go to work.

There were unending questions from my brothers why I had bathed so early in the morning. 

My sisters wanted to know why Ma Ncube had changed the duty roster such that none of my duties involved kneeling! (I don’t know why and I never asked) Ma Ncube told them she could change duties as she wished. So my first day that `it`happened I had my siblings looking at me funny because they thought that I was getting special treatment and they had no idea why.

I didn’t wear my bright yellow dress that day. Instead I wore a pair of brown checked trousers and a baggy black T-shirt. The dull colours were an expression of what I felt.

There was a lot of confusion within me. Each time my siblings exclaimed or called my name I would freak out thinking that an accident had occurred. To say that those three days of my first ‘it’ experience were long is an understatement. Those three days were a lifetime.