My name is Shakira and this is my story.
Gauteng, Monday, 1 June, 2015
This morning I woke up to the sound of fighting outside of my shack. I pulled on my orange jumper and my dusty ripped pair of black tights. I went to the portable toilets that my family and I share with three other families.
I went back to my shack and woke up my 5 year old little sister Tabhi and got her up and dressed. I split the last orange between us. We brushed our teeth and combed our hair with our fingers. I woke my mom up, said goodbye and kissed her on the cheek. I picked Tabhi up and started to walk to school with the hard gravel rubbing my feet raw. After two kilometers I finally reached the school.
There are so many kids that when I walked in the teacher didn’t even notice I was late. There weren’t enough supplies so I couldn’t write on anything. I didn’t even listen to what she was saying because we do the same thing on the same topic every day of the week for a week. So I just sat there and when she saw I wasn’t listening she said, “Shakira, you are twelve years old, you should be setting an example to some of the smaller kids!” If I catch you not listening again you will be sent to go and sit in the corner facing the wall for an hour! After that I started listening to her for the rest of the day.
After school I was starving and Tabhi started complaining of the hunger too. We started to walk back to our shack. When I opened the door my mom was crying. I asked why she was crying and she said that she got retrenched. She was talking about how she was going to feed us and how she was going to pay for school. “I can try to earn some money” I said. She said that she didn’t expect me to do that and that she was the mother. “I know that it has been difficult since your father has died and I am so sorry! I am a terrible mother!” “No you are not!” “I love you just the way you are!” “Thank you darling, I love you too.”
“I will go and see if I can buy us all a soft bread roll each.”Ok I said. As my mother left I gathered all my own money and counted it. Whoa, I have a whole R10. I told Tabhi to stay here while I go to the R5 store. She wanted to come with but I said no and I promised I would come back straight away.
When I finally reached the R5 store which took forever (10km). I bought a pack of water sachets and a pack of pencils (which were surprisingly cheap). I paid and walked back to the shack. I started selling the water sachets and pencils. The pencils cost R2 each and the water cost R3.50 each. I sold 3 pencils and 4 water sachets. I made R20! I showed mom and she said it was very sweet but not nearly enough we were going to need. It is times like this that I wish that we had a secure house, a proper closed toilet, litter control, warm food and water. But wishes don’t usually come true.
That night the rain was coming down so hard on the roof that I couldn’t sleep. I suddenly felt little droplets on my face. I got up and woke up my mom. We put buckets under the leaks but there were so many leaks and too little buckets. Mom opened the door and water started rushing in! “Oh no!” I cried out. We tried closing the door but the force of the water was too strong. “What are we going to do now?” I said. “I don’t know!” Mom replied. Tabhi started crying. I picked her up and comforted her.
I went outside and pulled myself through the water. I asked for help and I managed to get our next door neighbor, Henry. We all pushed and pushed and eventually we managed to close the door. By then the floors were soaked! All of our stuff were ruined! In the morning we started taking the water out of our shacks in buckets. When most of the water was finally out, all of our possessions were caked in the mud.
The next morning we packed up our few possessions that we managed to salvage from the mud. We walked until we reached the bus stop. We gathered the last of our money and bought three bus tickets to Cape Town.
A new life, a new person.
