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STILL RIVER RUNNING DEEP

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STILL RIVER RUNNING DEEP

Mmamahloko1 is my name. I bear profound sorrows. I carry inside of me profuse pain. I wonder what my fate would have turned out to be had I been named Mmathabo2 instead? The lady is a factory of joy. Next life I want to return as a rose.

©Simon Chilembo, 2013

Every time I see a man split a log I involuntarily cry painfully inside. I lay there spread-eagled on my back, feeling very cold, most vulnerable and exposed like a log. As the first animal got into me I felt the axe ram into the log. A chain saw sight trembles my body so I feel as though the body disintegrates into old barks falling off the trunk of a giant tree of ages.

By the time the fifth animal got into me I was in such excruciating pain I didn’t care any more. No one held my arms or my legs stretched out any more. I felt dirty and wasted, much like a log that’s travelled a thousand kilometres down a river. It felt that overwhelmingly wet too.  And the smells were the most unbearable. My vomit didn’t help much either. Each ejaculation felt like a litre of sulphuric acid pouring between my legs. My womanhood was burned beyond repair.

©Simon Chilembo, 2013

“What shall we do now?” I heard a distant voice say.
“Just kick her some more, and leave her behind this shrub here. Even if she doesn’t die, she won’t talk,” another voice said faintly.

I am not sure if they heard me. I am not sure if I did manage to utter a word at all either. But I do recall imploring them to kill me, because life is not worth living after this extremely brutal abuse. “Burn me up, please!” I begged. But I was left alone, dirty-wet, and unattractive. Unladylike. I remember deciding to die from all this.

Somehow I found myself standing in front of this massive opaque glass door on the edge of a mountain. The door slowly slid open to the side and I ran through, only to find myself running on clouds … (Continued in the book: MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)


Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
February 15, 2013

DEDICATED TO CHILEMBO HEROINES, ALL MOTHERS, AND SISTERS OF THE WORLD. IN MEMORY OF ANENE BOOYSEN.

1Mahloko (Sesotho): Pain(s) – anguish – sorrow – grief.

2Thabo (Sesotho): Joy – happiness.

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1 Comment

  1. […] Weaker souls don’t fight, can’t fight. God is a busy man. So, my strong women fight. They fight for themselves. God help them wicked men. […]

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