Swaziland: Women! Rise up!

Piggs Peak, 29 November: I am 28 years old and have two children. I have an elder sister but my brother passed away. At the age of ten, my mother and my father divorced. My mother decided to go to South Africa and left us with our father, we later learnt that she got married to another man.

My father used to come home drunk, then open my bedroom door when I was sleeping saying he was checking if I was with anyone. Sometimes he would wake me up to prepare him food. One day he forced me to sleep with him saying he doesn’t want me to sleep alone. He wrestled with me for some time until he over powered me.

I’ve never felt so much pain in my private parts. After the act, he warned me never to reveal it to anyone and threatened to kill me if ever I did. He even stopped me from playing with other children of the area. I obeyed his word and avoided talking to people in the area including neighbors.

This continued until he impregnated me twice. My first child is now five years old, the second is three. All the children belong to my father. On the first pregnancy, I lied at the hospital and said the father of my child disappeared. During the second pregnancy, I discovered that I was HIV positive. I started getting really sick and so did he.

The nurses asked me who I lived with whether there is anyone whom I could disclose my status to. I just broke down and cried hysterically as I knew there was no way I could tell my story to anyone in the community or at home.

Counsellors in Piggs Peak attended to me and some of them told me they belong to a support group, which helps women who are sexually abused or HIV positive.

At that point, I opened up and told them everything. I begged them not to tell anyone because feared that my father would kill me. They assured me that it would all be kept confidential and would give me all the support I needed. The matter was also taken to the social welfare department.

My father died before the case was finalised. I remember that day clearly. I was standing by his hospital bed, with a police officer by my side. He cried hysterically, begging for forgiveness. He told me to free my emotions and allow him to go peacefully. I could not say a word, just looked at him with tears flowing down my face.
I watched him take his last breath. I watched his heartless body being pushed to the mortuary.

I have since had more counselling and have helped form a support group of which I am the chairperson. Counsellors still visit me at home or meet them at hospital when I go for my antiretroviral treatment. Support is pouring in from different people and we now have a big garden where we grow vegetables for subsistence and selling. We have recently been trained on bee keeping and soon we will have beehives.

It is pains me to think back on all the neighbours that knew what was going on but never intervened. I hate the stigma that I carry, my father as the father of my children. But I get bolder and stronger each and every day. I focus on my project and the support group. But I dread the day when my children ask me where their father is. What will I say?

I encourage other women who maybe undergoing any form of abuse, stigma and discrimination to rise above that and focus in building on their future. They need to speak out against violence and seek help. Women must join or start women’s to share, support and comfort each other. Women! Rise up. The time is now to make our voices heard!

*Not her real name

Lungile lives in Piggs Peak. This story is part of the “I” Stories series produced by the Gender Links News Service as part of the 16 Days of Activism campaign against gender violence, encouraging the view that speaking out can set you free.