South Africa: Stefania Shangongoro

My name is Stefania Shangongoro. I’m 30 years old and based in the Northern Cape in Kimberly Platfontein. I am a proudly Khoisan woman. I matriculated in 2011 at !Xunkwesa Combined School in the community. I am the mother of a cute and handsome little boy and still unmarried. I’m unemployed at the moment still hunting for a job and looking forward to studying further. My hobbies are reading and cooking. I also like sports, especially soccer. I am a kind and hardworking person, shy a bit, but when I’m comfortable, I’m not. I love to learn about new things to enhance my knowledge.

I am from a family of five. I have five siblings, and I’m the youngest daughter. I have very loving, caring, and hardworking parents; they brought me up very well and were disciplined. I was in grade 1 as far as I could remember when my parents separated, but that didn’t affect me. My father came and fetched me some weekends and almost every school holiday to go visit him and his family in Schmidtsdrift because at that time we were not yet relocated in Platfontein. But my mother and the other women were first at “ou Platfontein,” as we called it, where the Platfontein lodge currently is. I had both their attention, so everything went well.

As we relocated in Platfontein, where we are based now at the moment, I grew up as a teenager to a grown woman, which I’m very proud of. I started having difficulties and hurtful moments in my teenage years. My father was always there for me, providing, caring, and was so encouraging and proud of my performances at school. He loved so much for me to be a teacher one day. Which unfortunately didn’t happen. I was 18 years old when I had a misunderstanding with my father. The misunderstanding was caused by my cousins, who were accusing me of not doing certain chores for my father since he was living alone. My father prefers not for me to do it, but I did sometimes. They were unhappy with how my father provided for me regarding the chores they did. I was fed up, and I decided not to visit my father anymore in the hope that he would notice my absence so I could tell him why I’m not coming again. It happened as I hoped I told him, but my father was at their side. I was heartbroken and didn’t come again to his place. Then my father stopped providing and caring for me; that was 2012, then days went to weeks to months and months to years.

At that moment, I was only staying with my mother. My father didn’t care about my wellbeing, how I was doing, or everything about me. That hurt me very deeply. I didn’t show it, but because of the love I had for him, I was broken. I broke down every time I missed him. I question myself sometimes if I’m really his biological daughter. I felt so unloved, inhuman, and nothing valuable. I often asked myself if my father had ever loved me since the day I was born, but sometimes I remembered how he treated me with love. It was so confusing how to feel, but it was hurtful. I was so empty I felt like a mistake. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be born, but I kept going even though it was so hard. I knew a parent could never abandon a child no matter what, but how? Why is this happening to me? On my birthday’s, I was very hurt because my father never attended or wished me since we stopped talking. I often wrote down how I felt and cried behind closed doors. Then I felt better, but it never went away; the feeling was always there. Sometimes I talked to my mother and friends, but nothing changed. I always had this burning feeling in my chest when I was missing him.

With that pain and unhealed scar, I carry on living, trying my best not to fall apart. Then I met my boyfriend in the same year this happened. But then it was not so painful, so as the years passed, it worsened. I met my boyfriend, and after a few months we moved in together, everything was well, and we loved each other. Then later on blessed with a handsome baby boy in the year 2015. Later on, our relationship got rocky; he saw his exes going out and coming home late. Things were getting heavier as rumors became more realistic. When I found out another woman was expecting a child of my boyfriend, I was completely broken, but we talked about it, I forgave, and we carried on as usual. Later on, the same things keep repeating themselves; another baby was expected again outside of our relationship. This is where reality and life hit me at my lowest, like the pain I never felt in my entire life before. Not even the passing of a family member has endured such pain; this pain was worse than what felt when my father abandoned me. I was completely doomed; the pain was too much; I almost couldn’t bear it. I cried like every day and night but without anyone noticing it. And every time I had a problem or some hurt in my relationship, it always led me back to the pain I encountered with my father. I used to feel like I’m not loved or meant to be loved because my father, who brought me life, doesn’t even love me, so who will love me? I felt like a nobody, but having a child helped get through it all. I knew he needs me more than anyone else; his love was more than enough for me. He kept me going.

One thing I did, of which I’m very proud of myself, is that I never gave up on me. I always did put myself together. As the years passed by, nothing changed, either my relationship with my dad or my boyfriend. All my life I have been surviving but was never heard. Knowing your father is alive and not getting any form of care or love was so draining. I was 12 years without my father’s interest in my life. Having a child and him not knowing your parent was painful, but I have to accept Realty as it is.

After 12 years of trying to make things work this time around, we’ve been calling and talking to each other. I’m in the building stage with me and my father’s relationship, and I hope we will be reunited again. But it still hurts that the questions in my head are still there. In my relationship with my boyfriend, history keeps repeating itself; I just don’t know how to make it work this time around. I am emotionally very tired. I am tired of surviving and being strong. Life was and is really very cruel to me.