I woke up this morning looking at the person sleeping next
to me; her face could tell a lot about her, her despair in life could not be
hidden even when she was fast asleep. I wonder what happened to her, she was
always so strong; actually she is the strongest person I know. Have you ever wondered if it is possible to separate a person from their mistakes?Mistakes is one
of the things that are common to all human beings, no matter how hard you try
you must make a mistake somewhere, but are defined by our mistakes? There are people who will tell you that
we are products of our past, our mistakes are part of us, they are right , but
if we make mistakes , if we made wrong choices, do wrong things that have bad consequences
does it mean we can we are evil and we cannot be trusted? Hold that thought;
before you answer I want to take you through part of Shirley’s life;
The story begins when Shirley transferred to our school, I
was in grade 5. After being introduced to the class she came and sat next to
me; she became my desk met then and a true friend to date. She was always
on top of the class with the best grades but socially she was
one of those girls that no one recognizes until they commit suicide and then
everyone had a class with her. She was very quiet, spent most of her time
crying, I never understood why. I tried to ask her but she would not tell me.
They say when
someone is crying the noble thing to do is to comfort them but when someone is
trying to hide her tears it is wise if you pretend not to see. I never knew
this, even though she would hide her tears I would always ask her and even
though she would not tell me why I would always comfort her, do everything I
can to make her smile. This went on until One day she came to school, she was shivering,
her face had bruises and her eyes were red. She sat on the corner of the desk.
Even as a 10 year old girl I knew something was serious wrong with her, I
wanted to help but I didn't know how, I went close to her held her hand and
tears started to flow from her eyes.
Shantelle; are you okay?
Shirley: I think I am sick
Shantelle: should I take you to the teacher
Shirley: okay
I accompanied her to our class teacher who in turn took
her to the school nurse and after few testes she gave her some painkillers and I was
told to accompany her home. I held her hand as we walked across the streets;
she had stopped crying then but was quiet all the way until we were just few meters from their house. Then
she said;
Shirley: you’re a good friend
Shantelle: you are not so bad your self...
Shirley: I want to show you something
She then led me toward a public cemetery that was just in
front of us. I had never been in one before. I was scared, she assured me it
was safe and I had nothing to worry about. She walked towards one tomb and she
sat on it.
Shirley: this is where they kept my mother;
my uncle said she was never going to wake up. I come here often to talk to her,
I hope she hears me.
Shantelle: Was she sick?
Shirley: No my father killed her,
they were having a fight.. They always fight.. Normally when they start
fighting I will take my brother Shawn and hide under the bed. But that day they were in the bedroom so we
hide ourselves in the kitchen. Shawn was crying begging me to make them stop. I
was trying to comfort him telling him was going to be okay. I don’t know what
they were fighting about but somewhere in the middle of their argument I heard
a shot and they stopped. Later on my father came to the kitchen and told us to
go play at the neighbors. I never saw him since then, my uncle says he was a
bad man but he wasn't he loved me and Shawn. He also said the police have
taken him and he will never come back. I wish I knew that was the last day I was going to see them.
Shantelle: so whom do you live with?
Shirley: my uncle
Then she stood up and started walking
towards the road. We left the cemetery to her house where we found no one
except little Shawn sleeping. Shawn was sick, he had been sick for two days and
Fecadu (Shirley’s uncle) was too busy to take him to the hospital. Apparently Shirley
had begged him to take Shawn to the hospital that morning but all he did was
beat her up and left without saying a word. Shirley told me she had no plans of
going back to school until his brother was well again. I went home confused
trying to digest all that she had told me, trying to figure out how I could be of
help to her. I never said a word to my parents because she asked me not to.
Dear diary, the gap left by losing a
parent can never be filled with anything. It sucks when you lose both of your
parents just like that and you are left in the hands of uncaring uncle. At times
you might think you are over it, that you have accepted the fact that they are
never coming back but one little thing and you have lost that person all over
again. For Shirley it was not one thing that made her loose her parents all
over again, it was everything. She would lose them all over again every minute of every
day.
On the following day, she did not
attend school. When the teacher asked me I told her everything, yeah I know I promised
not to but I did know how I was going to help her without involving any adult. Our teacher was such an
angel, she went to her house. I don’t know what really happened I was too young
to be involved in such kind of conversations but Shirley and her brother Shawn
moved to another city to live with their grandmother. I never saw her until we
reunited college.
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