Chapter One
All my life, I lived for my parents.
Every decision seemed to belong to them. The clothes I wore, the food I ate, the places I went, and even the friends I was allowed to have were never really my choice.
I still remember the day I brought my first female friend home. She was shy and too nervous to greet my mum. Before my friend had even left, my mum looked at me and said, "Don't bring her here again."
That was the end of our friendship.
Visiting other people's houses was out of the question. My mum believed it was unnecessary and dangerous. Home, school, and her shop—that was my entire world.
Every weekday followed the same routine. School ended at 2:00 p.m. From there, I walked to my younger brother's and sister's school to pick them up. We would all trek to my mum's shop, where I dropped them off before eating quickly and walking all the way back to school for evening lessons. The distance between my school and my mum's shop was long enough to leave my feet aching, but walking was simply part of life.
Vacations were stories I heard other children talk about. Excursions existed only in permission slips I never got to sign. While my classmates returned with photographs and exciting memories, I returned home, where nothing ever changed.
During school holidays, I either attended extra lessons or stayed locked inside the house until my mum came back from work. Before she left each morning, she always made sure I had chores waiting for me—preparing food, cleaning, or helping with whatever needed to be done.
My dad had his own routine.
Every evening after work, he taught me mathematics. There was no excuse for getting my assignments wrong. Failure came with consequences, and those consequences usually came in the form of a painful flogging. It didn't matter whether I was tired or afraid. My books had to be perfect.
Television was a luxury we rarely enjoyed. While other families gathered around their favorite shows, we gathered around our books. Until examinations were over, entertainment simply didn't exist in our house.
Looking back now, I realize I wasn't just being raised to be disciplined.
I was being raised to obey.
For a long time, I didn't even know there was a difference.
Sometimes, I wished I could escape.
I felt like I was trapped inside a box that kept getting smaller with every passing year. No matter how hard I tried to breathe, there was never enough space for me to be myself.
When my grades started dropping, my dad became convinced that home was the problem. He believed I was too distracted and decided the solution was simple—send me to boarding school.
For the first time in a long time, I was happy.
Not because I wanted to leave my parents.
I just wanted to leave the life I had always known.
I remember running into my room that day with a smile I couldn't hide. To everyone else, boarding school sounded like a punishment. To me, it felt like freedom. I imagined making friends, laughing without looking over my shoulder, and finally discovering what life was like outside the walls that had always surrounded me.
I should probably introduce myself.
My name is Melanie.
What else is there to know about me?
At that point, not much.
I was just a quiet girl trying to survive a life that never felt like my own.
Even before boarding school, I had no real friends.
I was always alone.
In class, I usually sat by myself because my seatmate had left. During break, while everyone laughed in groups, I found a quiet corner where no one would notice me. I hardly spoke to anyone. The silence became my comfort because I didn't know how to fit in.
My school had both boarding and day students, yet I belonged to neither group. Most people avoided me because they thought I was too quiet. Some probably believed something was wrong with me.
Maybe there was.
Or maybe I had spent so many years living by everyone else's rules that I had forgotten how to be myself.
When my dad announced that I would be going to boarding school, my mum objected immediately. She insisted I was too young to leave home. They argued for days.
For once, I secretly hoped my dad would win.
And eventually...
He did.
I finally got what I had been praying for.
I believed boarding school would change everything.
I was wrong.
Even after I got there, I remained the same quiet girl who kept to herself. I still found it difficult to make friends. I still felt invisible, as though I existed only in the background of everyone else's lives.
Years passed.
I finished secondary school and graduated.
People assumed I had changed because I had spent time away from home.
The truth?
I was still carrying the same lonely girl inside me.
Little did I know, the next chapter of my life—university—would change me in ways I never imagined.
