Evening Primrose by Kopano Matlwa

Evening Primrose by Kopano Matlwa

Author:Kopano Matlwa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC000000 Fiction / General
Publisher: Quercus
Published: 2018-04-03T04:00:00+00:00


Part 3

I say to myself, I will not mention His name, I will speak in His name no more. But then, it becomes like a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones. I grow weary holding it in, I cannot endure it.

Jeremiah 20:9

Why are You still here?

Go away!

Where were You when it happened? Did You watch? Did You cringe? Did You cry? Did You know all day? As I washed my face and brushed my teeth, chose my underwear and pulled on my scrub pants, did You know already that they’d later be ripped, that my tongue would be torn and my front teeth cracked?

Did You pity me, God?

How long have You known for? From the day before yesterday or the day before that? From my seventh birthday or the day of my birth? And all this time as I giggled and laughed and blew out candles on cakes, You knew this lay on my horizon and You said and did nothing?

And if You cared, because You claim You do, did You watch? All of it? From beginning to end? With eyes wide open? Was there no knot for me in Your stomach, no lump in Your throat? Me, Your child? You watched them rape me and didn’t blink, didn’t even blink. You, God, watched them tear me apart, divide me among themselves, and You stood and stared.

Or did You run and hide? See none of it at all? Only hear about it later?

Or were You out of town, away on business, saving lives somewhere else?

So now You come and You want to help me? Now, after the event, You want to console me? That’s very nice. That’s very, very nice.

Go away!

Why do You want to see us grovel? Why must we break first into millions of pieces before You shovel us off the floor? Why must we shatter first before You react? Why must we pray for things that are obvious? Wasn’t it obvious that I needed You to save me?

Go away!

Nyasha would mock me if she knew I still wrote to You.

I can’t sleep.

Our Father in heaven . . .

How could You let it happen?

Stay calm, breathe slow, think less.

Lord, please give me a hug. If You’re there, please give me a hug.

I’m so scared.

Do You hate me?

Who are You, anyway, and why should I care what You think? Where do You come from? How can I trust You when You have no home, no people who call You their own?

Just leave me alone.

Please Jesus, come now. Please don’t leave me.

I wish this was all just a really long, really bad dream.

I took a bath today. Ma cried. I cried. Ma said, “Everything will be fine.” I told her not to lie. Ma cried some more.

I wish I could disappear.

You’d think You, being the ruler of the universe, could take a large damp cloth, spray it with bleach and wipe all of this away. Or press a reset button, or pull out the batteries, disconnect the cord, or something, anything.



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