Macharia

It was going to happen eventually. She knew it, she just did not want to accept it.
She stared at wall clock...there was still time. She allowed her mind to wander.
They made her feel dirty, for no fault of her own.

She had been raised well, to stand for right over wrong. And that is what had gotten her here. She should not have let her conscience allow her to carry this shame. She rubbed her stomach and pressed the warm cloth as she had been told. She reached for the remote control and flipped through the channels. If there was anything that would get her mind off things, it was good reality TV.

She pulled the comforter over her thighs and rested her head on a cushion. As soon as she found her comfort spot, she heard the faint but distinct cry. If there was one thing she had leant in the last five days, it was that it would be a long time before she could fully rest.

She eased up in the chair and leaned as far as she could into the cot and stared at the little bundle. She didn't have the heart to carry her but she knew it was feeding time and soon there would be wailing. She had gotten a wailer, the nurse had said. And she had wondered why for all her pain, the heavens had not found it fit to give her a silent little thing to hide her shame...but No, this baby could cry and cry loud.

She felt the tears begin to well up as she heard her mothers soft footsteps. What she hated the most was the sorrowful looks they gave her. She watched as her mother picked up the baby she had failed to give a name up till now and coo her. She wondered if one day she would be able to give the child even a piece of herself.

She slid back into her comfort spot and allowed the tears to flow. She shouldn't cry, she knew. It made her mother cry too but this was not something she would easily let go of. She heard the tyres on the gravel outside and knew they had come. She wiped her eyes and nose and smiled weakly at her mother. She could do this. She would tell all and perhaps the weight would be lifted, perhaps she would be able to look at the child and not want to retch.

My name is Macharia, i have a five day old baby and i am 15years old. I grew up in the church. I never had a boyfriend, my parents said i had to wait until i was 16. I do not drink and i pretty much spend my free time at home or in church groups. Months ago, a girl i was friends with at school invited me to a party at her house. I was trying to get her to come to church and i didn't want to be this stuck up person who couldn't have a little fun. My parents said i could go and i did.

One of the boys at the party raped me. He had seemed nice enough. He had brought me a drink and asked about church and all. I woke up in my friends room and she was crying and staring at me. We figured there was something in the drink because i do not remember anything after the few sips i took. I didn't go to the hospital. I was ashamed and i was angry. We didn't tell anyone. She would get in trouble and i thought my mother would be angry. I realised i was pregnant a couple of weeks later.

She started at the woman in front of her and wondered if she understood. She was nodding politely while her father looked at the floor. Her parents had encouraged her to talk to their counsellor friend, they thought she would help. She continued with the lines she had said over and over in her head the last few hours.

My mother says i shall love the baby one day. I couldn't bring myself to give it up for a adoption but again i cannot even bring myself to nurse it. My mother places it near me all the time so that maybe i will be drawn to it but i find that i just stare. Perhaps one day i shall care. Perhaps one day my story will give courage to someone else. Just now, it breaks me to think it, to remember it, to live it.