Make me whole

Does remorse count?

After having my hair done and everything bought for me, I was ready to attend school, and I must say, I looked stunning in my cornrows, I could just tell that I made a few enemies or rather, bullies. I couldn’t stand up for myself because of how treated me. I saw myself as “Not enough” and as soon as my peers sensed that, my school career was a constant uphill battle. Now, silence has always been my thing, I’ve been bullied into silence my whole life. Even in the small village where I was living, I had some people who were dedicated to making my life a living hell, jealousy governed. I was the star of the class, always being chosen to read to the entire class because well, I did mention that my English skills were polished. Not only that, a lot of people loathed the fact that I could just enter a room and receive love from all angles with just a smile. I wasn’t conversant however, I was the type to bow their head down and answer what is being asked of them, and seemingly, adults loved that because to them, it was a sign of good manners and respect for older people in our community. That being said, I don’t think I need to explain that all the teachers loved me. Every teacher who has ever taught me put me on a pedestal. I got the biggest roles whenever we had something to do like a school play. I attracted people, everybody wanted to be my friend and I didn’t mind. I was so comfortable, that I didn’t notice anybody hating on me.

As fate would have it, I got myself my very first bully. I guess she’d been silent, watching me from a distance because she suddenly grabbed me by my school shirt one day, because “I took all her friends from her.” And me, being the coward that I am said in a wimpy voice and glossy eyes, “You don’t iron my clothes.” Even the school perfect couldn’t help because they were too busy getting amused by my misfortune. They hated my sister with a passion because she too had a reputation of her own. She was known as the bully who took people’s spots on the bus so there was no saving me. To make matters worse, I made a new friend who was loaded with money, understood my situation, and empathized with me. We were unstoppable! We gelled together like pen on paper, like a house a house on fire and she was always happy to celebrate my achievements with me and what a bad move it was to let my guard down.

I felt heartbroken that she had to leave after her father was shot dead but I’ll always remember the beautiful, shy smile she wore on her face in a daily basis her humble nature, not letting it get into her head that she came from a rich family. If there's one person that is be happy to see no matter when she resurfaced, it would be Milly. My childhood best friend.

Days went turned into weeks and weeks into months, my first year at Independent School moved along. I wasn’t completely happy with the suburban life because I felt dethatched from life as I knew it. I was used to playing in the dust all day with friends, only taking a break to eat, not staying indoors and watching TV shows. The only place I ever felt like I belonged was at my grandmother’s place in the location. At least there was a bit of ground that I found play with there. It made my dad very angry that I played with mud while I was still in my uniform but K.O couldn’t have said it better when he said “You can take me out if the ghetto but you can’t take the ghetto out of me.”

It was one day that I tried to have new friends. They were from the house our grandmother always warned us about. She’d always tell us how they wets a family of

Days went turned into weeks and weeks into months, my first year at Independent School moved along. I wasn’t completely happy with the suburban life because I felt dethatched from life as I knew it. I was so used to playing in the dust all day king with friends, only taking a break to eat, not staying indoors and watching TV shows. The only place I ever felt like I belonged was at my grandmother’s place in the location. At least there was a bit of ground that I found play with there. It made my dad was very angry that I played with mud while I was still in my uniform but K.O couldn’t have said it better when he said “You can take me out of the ghetto but you can’t take the ghetto out of me.”

It was one day that I tried to have new friends. They were from the house our grandmother always warned us about. She’d always tell us how they were a family of witch doctors but I didn’t listen because I’m stubborn and got headed. Also, I needed I wouldn’t be stick watching game shows on the old school analogue television

I decided to toss a her all her advice and get myself a new set of friends, the neighbour's granddaughters. I made friends with the very same people that she warned me against. I didn’t know that the person I teased a few days back was someone from their family. My heart beat so hard against my chest when I saw him walk into that yard as I thought about how I’m going to explain to that granny that I teased her grandson a few days back.

Gone were the wise words of my grandmother, in came the naïve me. I honestly thought they’re harmless, children, like me.

I regretted the decision the moment I stepped into the house, thinking deeply about what would become of me now that I talked ill about her grandson