The Recovery

By Noluvuyo Bacela

I have not thought about this person in a while, which is very odd of me because of the way I idolized him.

Once upon a time I watched all the light exit my body, through any means that it could do so. My eyes grew dark, like a deep hole; and my ears… I could barely hear a thing past the noise ringing in my head. I never fought it. I just thought to myself “Why not?”, as I let go of the dreams that he longed for.

Saying no as a means to punish whatever innocence was in me. Innocence that he loved.

I hardly want to talk, afraid of him seeing my heart…the bruises. Do you also see the stretch marks? My heart is growing bigger. I loved him with every fibre of my being; I would hope just for the touch of his beard to prick my innocent skin awake again.

I am still a child. I wonder about child birth. I wonder about loving someone else more than I loved him, but I can barely remember him. I wonder about our mother and how much she must miss him yet she will never say.

I watched my younger brother bear his cross while I fell in love with the book he read each and every night, even when his sight began to fail him. Now, many miles from home, I am holding hands that I never thought I could have. Sowing dreams together with the words from the book he left behind.

Utter silence, not even a whisper in the wind. Maybe that is why I have not thought of him in a long while. I am hopeful that I am becoming what he envisioned; his firm hands pressing my cheeks together, urging me to smile. I wear dresses now and girly shoes, but I can still fix a broken toilet sink.

How could I ever forget him?

His long face I see etched on my brother’s, and his quiet confidence; he was, you were, our father.

About Teakisi 622 Articles
Teakisi (formerly ElleAfrique) is an English and French blogzine dedicated to challenging and changing the perceptions of African girls and women in the world today.


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