When Family Turns Out To Be Different

At the tender age of just six years, my mother decided to send me to a boarding school in Mwanzu. She was consumed by her work and could not devote time to me. My father was completely absent from my life; the only thing I can say about him is that I have some unclear memories and I have never physically met him. Also, there has been no sign that he ever played any role in my bringing up. From my mother’s stories, I have doubts if he even knows my whereabouts.

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My mother claims that the father was abusive and that she eventually left him taking me with her. In order not to be found, she had to move to a place where he would never think of looking for them. Her relatives also advised her to take on her second husband’s last name after marrying, so that it would be even harder for him to trace them.

The man whom my mother married made it plainly obvious that I was not his child. He never called me his own though he gave me his last name. At first, this was a letdown but gradually I came to see him as simply my mother’s husband instead.

Though I was a child, I already knew that the man who came into our lives was not an issue of my father but of my mother needing someone like that. In her case, she was the one who kept the whole family going and that's why I couldn’t stay with her. She was already working all day to take care of those who depended on her.

Besides, it wasn't entirely bad that I grew up away from her. I mean, I can still say thank you to her for taking me to a boarding school. It made me independent since I was very little and I have gone through a lot to learn life lessons. This is so true, that sometimes it is the only teacher. If it was a matter of learning these lessons by my mother, it would have been easier. Certainly. But since she was not there, I was the one who had to fight life.

One of the biggest lessons that I learned was the fact that my mother’s marriage was basically a series of problems. I don't know how serious or deep the troubles are, but every time I got back from a trip, things would blow up. I never got an answer to the question why my mom did not leave the man who was acting like the king of the family and she was the one taking care of them all.

He would regularly attempt to impose his power over her by reminding her that he was the dominant person in the house. Among others, he used to say, "Don't you realize I'm your husband? Don't oppose me when I order you to do something." Maybe after getting divorced from my father, my mother is afraid of being the reason for another failed marriage, which could be why she puts up with him.

I realized that during the times when I was in the house and they had arguments, he would accuse me. The reason for this was that sometimes my mother would support me against his insults which he often threw at me. When he was not in the mood to talk, he would use violence as a means of communication. If my mother attempted to intervene, he would switch and start on her too.

I despised being the reason for their quarrels. As the stepdaughter, I would try to take the brunt of his insults so that my mother would not have to fight my battles. The strategy was effective for a time, and it even allowed a sort of peace to continue until recently.

Now, I am twenty-two and I am a university student, I went back home for Christmas holidays. I took some money with me from school, but didn't spend it, rather I kept it with my things. When I wanted it, it was nowhere to be found. How could my money just vanish?

It’s worth noting that I never made any accusations about theft; all I did was state that my money had been lost. My stepfather heard me and went into a rage on the spot. “How can you be so impertinent to speak about loss of money in my home? Who do you think you are, calling me a thief?” he yelled. I didn’t say anything, so he punched me and then continued to give me a beating that was very hard.

Then, after all this, he expelled me from the house. Unlike before, this time my mother was not in the picture. She was there, but it seemed like it was not worth her time to say anything.

I now have this very strong feeling of being lost. The only place where I can go is back to school, and I don't have a single person that I could call to get help. Were it not for my ignorance of my father's whereabouts, I would go to him. My mother is the only person I could lean on, but she has decided to go with her husband. What else is there for me but to wait? I'm on the sea without a compass.

—Juliet

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