I am Where I am Because Of Where I Have Been

Cecy Dlamini, 19, lives in Soweto, South Africa with her siblings, nieces, and nephews. After her mother passed away from complications with AIDS 6 years ago, Cecy has been responsible for caring for her family. Through the help of Ikageng Itireleng AIDS Ministry and Keep a Child Alive, Cecy has been able to raise her family and attend school. As she has a passion for writing and journalism, Cecy has decided to share her story with you.

Chapter 1 - Mother's Struggles

If there ever was a woman who completely and without any reservations, adored her children and was ready at a moment's notice to lay down her own life for those helpless bundles of joy she had so lovingly borne, it was my mother Sheila Dlamini. From her I learned that dignity and selfworth are qualities that are deeply sewn in one's soul and that even in the most desperate of situations one could still retain both. My mother would have rather died a thousand deaths before she let any harm to come to her children, and she tried to protect us from all things harmful.

When I was five years old my mother was pregnant with the twins, Bruce and Brian, and my father passed away due to severe malaria - or so we were told. What inexplicable pain my mother must have felt at the news of her husband's death, with four children already in existence and two more on the way.

In the years subsequent to my father's passing, my mother - who was illiterate - begged, borrowed, and almost stole before she worked as the only female construction worker in a railway company. After working for the railway company she began washing taxis at our local taxi rank. She asked drivers who were getting out of their shiny comfortable cars if she could wash their cars for them at a fee equivalent to one US Dollar.

One cold winter's day she approached a driver and he said she could wash his car. When she had finished her task the man told her that he worked in the building in front of them and that he had left his wallet in his office. He said that she should come to his office to collect it. With nothing in mind but getting enough money to buy food to feed her children back home (who had not eaten in two days), she stepped into the elevator with the man. Half way up the building the man pressed the emergency stop button and proceeded to brutally rape my mother. When he felt that he was satisfied forcing himself on a woman who was half his size he got up, dressed himself and ensured that the elevator procceeded to its destination. Then he left her there.

My mother didn’t have the taxi fare to get back home or money for supper, and she had just been violated in the most horrific of ways by a complete stranger. When she finally did get home that night after begging in the streets for taxi fare, she said nothing about what had happened. She kept the knowledge of the incident to herself until many years later when she shared it with my sister.