Sexual Lust

I was born in 1990 in a small town. We stayed in town briefly before moving to the village. All my childhood memories are of the village. I only have vague memories of the town we lived in. Despite living in the village our parents took us to good schools. All the schools I attended were girls schools apart from university. I had never interacted with boys until the point I got to campus. I never had a boyfriend. Being an introverted child who stays at home all day did not help much.

When I joined campus, I was still a virgin and I stayed a virgin for quite some time. Then I got my first boyfriend, all hell broke loose. I was unstoppable. I let him take away my virginity and now I had discovered a new activity and I wanted to do it over and over again. I tried to remain faithful to my boyfriend but it was impossible. I could not say no to any guy who approached me. I slept with other guys around campus and beyond. I struggled with maintaining fidelity. We broke up a few months into the relationship after my boyfriend found out about my infidelity. I have not been able to maintain a relationship since then.

The end of this relationship only worked to escalate my ways. I would meet a guy in the morning and have sex with him few hours later. I did not get any satisfaction from it. God knows I never got a single orgasm from these sexual intercourses. Why did I keep doing it? I got the answer later when my life had been damaged beyond repair. I replaced my lack of orgasm with masturbation. I kept looking for something more. I could not tell what it was exactly I was looking for.

After having sex with a guy I would feel dirty and promise myself not to do it again. After a few days I would do the exact opposite. It became a cycle of promises only to break them few days later. There seemed to be a driving force behind my actions. I failed to notice that I had a problem. After all, wasn’t I living a normal life for a girl my age. I failed to notice I was overdoing it. It had reached abnormal heights.

I did not have a type. I could sleep with any guy as long as he had a penis. Young, old, or illiterate it did not matter. It reached a point where I could not keep track of the men I had sex with. They became too many. I joined an online dating site with the sole intention of meeting different guys. The campus guys were no longer appealing to me. Besides, I had slept with most of them. I would chat up the guys online and meet up for sex days later. I travelled to go meet these men. I was careful enough so as not to get pregnant. There were a couple of times when the sex had no protection.

I remember this particular day when I was so broke. Then I thought why not have paid sex only this once. I had been talking to this guy from my dating site. I gave him my condition if we were to have sex. He has to pay me. He accepted. Too quick in fact. I travelled quite a distance to go meet him. We met in a hotel but after sex, he excused himself to go buy something. Of course he never came back. I was left alone in a hotel room at night with no money to get me home. I panicked. The distance I had travelled could not allow me to walk back. Thankfully, a friend came through for me. One would think I would learn after this incident. Even I thought I would stop sleeping around. My fate had other plans. I did not learn. I never demanded for money from these men apart from only this once which also did not go as planned.

My sex escapades were done in high secrecy. My friends and family never noticed I had a problem. No one ever did. In their eyes I was the friend or daughter who never dates. They were worried I would end up lonely. Little did they know.

In campus, there were those ladies who were well-known whores. I was such a fake judging these ladies. What was the difference between me and them? None. We would discuss such ladies with my friends and lament on how they are ruining their lives. I was only discussing about how I was ruining my life.

I got pregnant shortly after univesity. My first and only solution was an abortion. I checked myself into a reputable hospital and went through with the procedure. No one ever found about the pregnancy. Sitting there waiting for the doctor to start the procedure, I remember making a mental note to never let a man touch me. Instead I let more men touch my body.

Everything has an end. My turning point came soon afterwards when I travelled again to go meet a guy for sex. We had unprotected sex but he left me in the hotel room after stealing all my stuff while I was in the bathroom. Luckily, he did not take all the money. I went back home and got back into routine. I was used to such incidences. Few months after this incident, I bumped into a Facebook discussion where a guy’s picture had been posted and ladies were discussing about him. The guy in the picture is the same guy I had unprotected sex with and stole my stuff. The story was he goes around sleeping with ladies infecting them with the AIDs virus and eventually stealing their stuff. So many ladies were sharing their experiences with this guy.

I thought this could not be happening to me. I was only having fun, how did I land a positive guy. I tried to convince myself that these ladies were just trolling his name. I was in denial for the longest time. I remember swearing never to get tested. It did not change the fact that I could be infected. I did not feel better either. I was so stressed at this point and had to talk to someone. I spoke to my mother. The day I revealed all this to her, she shed painful tears. She could not believe it. Afterall, I was the good girl. How was I capable of all that?

My mum referred me to a prophetic intercessor cum counselor. Listening to my story, he told me am suffering from sexual lust. Sexual lust? Yes, its a thing. He walked me through what I need to do to overcome sexual lust. He helped me through this period to the point I got over sexual lust. Masturbation was the hardest to get over. He encouraged me to get tested. Sadly, the results came out positive, I had been infected with the HIV virus. I have learnt to accept my condition. I am in a good place now. My parents have been so supportive.

The sexual lust is all in the past. I have to deal with the stigma and the never-ending medication. Going through the period of sexual lust, I did not see any problem with myself.  I thought that at some point I will meet the one and settle down. I will no longer be sleeping around. I realized my problem much much later in life when damage control was impossible. I did not notice my problem. If I had sought help earlier on I would not be living positively.



Karma Has No Deadline

Growing up, I have always known my dad to be an adulterer. He slept with many women at the same time. He was never home. We only got to see him probably once per month. Even then, he would be home for a day or two. But, i cherished the moments he was not around. When he was home there was often a gloomy silence hanging over us. No one was talking to each other and my mum was sulking. I was constantly anticipating for the time my dad would go back to work. Then everything would be back to normal.

The nature of his work meant that my dad was being tranferred to different towns every other year. He was never in the same place for long. My mum told us everything that was happening between the two of them. It was impossible to hide anything from us. For as long as I can remember my mum told us about my father’s extra marital affairs. I saw it in her eyes, it really hurt her. She was in love with a man who never gave her any attention. Instead choosing to move with different women. From the moment we were old enough to understand, she told us everything and even showed us some of the women he was having affairs with.

We were brought up in a blended family. My mother had two kids from her previous marriage while my dad had three kids from the previous marriage. After their union, my brother and I came along. My dad’s three kids supported my father’s affairs. They would even go to the houses of these women and stay there during school holidays. They knew everything my dad did for his many women. He would furnish their houses, pay school fees for children that were not his yet we did not own a television set. Many are the times we would be sent home because we had not paid school fees. You would have to really beg my father for him to provide pocket money. Even then, you will be given very little. I remember an incident where my father denied my brother and I before a crowd that we are not his kids. He was convinced my mum slept with other men to conceive us. He told people he is planning to perform a DNA on us to prove that we really are his children.

The rest of us sympathized and mourned with our mother. It was a painful experience. I thank God because he never abused my mother physically. Not even once. It was the emotional torture and the financial constraint that weighed on mum. She was working but her pay was too little to sustain our needs. But, somehow she made sure we got what we wanted. She made sure we were comfortable in school. Even if it would mean shaving her hair and walking to and from work everyday because she could not afford bus fare. She lost weight and I looked forward to the rare moments I would see her smile. She had her sanctuary which was under a certain tree in our compound. She would sit under this tree and cry a lot while praying to God.

It became a never ending cycle of extra marital affairs. I learnt not to trust men and it has affected my life with regards to relationships.  I have not been able to maintain a relationship and have given up on trying. There was one woman who stood out among the women my dad slept with. Her name is  Mary (pseudonym). I still see her from time to time but from a distance. She is unique because she sucked almost all of my father’s money and pulled him farther away from us. The once-per-month visits from my father became non-existent. It seemed like my father moved in with her. They dated for quite a while compared to the other women. The whole period they were dating, Mary gave birth to two sons. My father would then be convinced the boys were his. Of course they were not. The woman was a whore. My dad paid fees for her children. We would be forced to interact with her kids and treat them as siblings. How depressing. It was the most trying period for us.

One day my mum was walking my brother to school. She could not afford to pay for transport for him. The least she could do is walk him to school herself. On the way, they met Mary. Shamelessly, she started abusing my mum, bragging about how she was able to snatch her man. She would then tell my mum she could not keep her husband that’s why he is moving around with other women. My brother, 6 years then, had to witness his mother being abused by a woman who my father was sleeping with. He pretends to be strong but I know the experience hit him hard. My mother still recounts this event till date. It still haunts her.

It took over 10 years but things began to happened. I cannot tell whether it was karma playing it’s part or if it was the tears my mum shed in her sanctuary. Either way tables were turned. My dad decided to take an early retirement so as to get his hands on the retirement benefits. He was always greedy with money. That was the beginning of his problems. The retirement money took forever to come. The women started to reduce gradually. What will they do with a broke man? He found Mary in bed with another man. Did that hurt him? I do not know. My siblings who supported his wayward ways and who were his favorites disappointed him. He had taken them to better school than the ones we went to. The result? They could not perform well in class. They were constantly in and out of school as a result of several suspensions. They would later get expelled and run away from home never to be seen again. The girl got pregnant with a married man who did not want anything to do with her.

He was back home fully dependent on my mother. Suddenly, we had become the good kids who he was proud of. Something good happened to my mother. She was promoted at work and got a big pay rise. Because of the situation at home, we had to work extra hard in school to make mum proud. We would then get scholarships which reduced the fees burden on my mum. Money started coming in for my mum and life was good. She would go for seminars every other week which meant more money. My dad has not been able to acquire much money as before to allow him to keep other women. Though I know the will to be involved with other women is still within him. He is like a ticking bomb waiting for money to explode.

I could choose to harbor hatred for him all my life. I could choose to never speak to him and my other siblings. Yes he put us through hell for the longest time. Yes he denied us before people. Does that change our DNA? No. I choose to forgive him. In this way my heart is free. He will always be my father no matter how hard I will try to convince myself we are not related. We try as much as possible not to talk about this experience. All of us have learnt to move on from this experience but the scars are still visible.


Becoming Undone

While still in campus, I joined an online dating site just for the fun of it. The site allowed you to include your contacts in your profile. Anyone checking out your profile is able to see it. I was contacted by this really cool guy. He seemed like the perfect guy, he was successful working for a really good NGO. At least, that’s what he told me. The best part was that he was just a few years older than me.

He was different from the other guys who contacted me. He was mostly interested in getting to know me. At some point my phone had issues and he offered to buy me a new one. We had yet to meet. I started developing feelings for him. We planned to meet at the end of my semester and made all preparations ready. I was to travel to his place. He had sent me pictures of his house and it was dope. I told him I had started my journey and am coming. He said okay. Halfway through the journey, I contacted him and his phone was off. I was not alarmed. I thought probably it’s the network. But he had actually switched off his phone! He knew I was coming. I was so mad.

Luckily, his town of residence was on my way home. I changed plans and went home. A week later, he called apologizing profusely telling me he fell sick and had to be rushed to the hospital. He had a way of convincing me and I forgave him. The same incident happened several other times but like I said he had a way of convincing me. We finally met. A couple of months later, he lost his job. Suddenly he was back to zero. I did not fret, I still wanted to be with him. I loved him.He started asking me for money every now and then. He even conned me at one point.

We lost contact for some time but reconnected later. When we reconnected, he had found another job, better than the first one. He was doing really well. I had cleared campus. I didn’t have any money because I was not working. He sent me fare and I remember telling my mum am going to meet my boyfriend. I had never said that to her. It took her by surprise.

We met in town and chilled for some time. Around 7 pm, he took me to a certain restaurant. He told me to go on and order food without him that he was going to pick his family members that he wanted me to meet. I became excited. I thought he had finally become serious about me. I ordered food and even started eating but he had not come back.

I remember I kept looking at every person coming into the restaurant thinking it was him. I tried calling him severally. As expected, he had switched off his phone. I became scared because it was already so late and I didn’t know anyone in that town. I did not even know my way around town. It was raining heavily. I had enough money for bus fare only so looking for a room was not an option.

I walked to an isolated building and sat down thinking about why I was so stupid as to leave home to go meet a guy who had disappointed me more than once before. I did not care that I was at risk of being robbed or worse raped. There were catcalls from the street boys who were around that area. I was cold and being rained on. I was oblivious to all the happenings around me.

As if sensing my predicament, a certain street boy approached me. God bless him! He inquired as to why I was alone at night in such a place. I don’t know why but I found myself explaining to him my situation. He was a good listener. We talked for quite some time. He told me about his background. He actually had a family and missed his sister so much. He gave me warm water to help me with the cold.

He explained that they spend their nights in a movie joint, watching movies till morning to avoid sleeping out in the cold. He took me to that movie joint where I spent my night. At dawn, he showed me the place where I could catch a bus back home. I thank God for that street boy. If it were not for him, I do not know what would have happened to me out there in the streets. He has called many times to apologize but the damage has already been done. He seemed like the perfect guy at first but that was not the real him. He never treated me right. I was the one struggling to maintain the relationship. I knew it was a toxic relationship but I still held on to it. I have been able to move on from that experience but I have not been able to date anyone. It has become really hard for me to trust.


Story of a Week

I know the exact spot my son was buried even though the area has since been cultivated. Some of my siblings do not know where he was buried. They have never bothered to ask and they never came to the funeral. They have never seen him, they were not home when I gave birth. I visit the ‘graveyard’ when no one is looking to feel close to my son and speak to him.


I got pregnant while working as a barmaid. Its only after I fell pregnant that I realized my ‘boyfriend’ has a wife and two kids. He refused to take responsibility. My presence would break his beautiful family. I had run away from home to go work as a barmaid. My father would not have entertained the idea. With a deadbeat baby daddy, I had to move back home because my meagre earnings could not support my pregnant self. My parents were supportive. I named my son Adrian. I loved Adrian so much, I still do. The absence of his father no longer mattered to me. He was constantly crying and restless at all times. Many times, I had to stay awake holding him in my arms because for some reason he could not sleep. But I welcomed the challenge, I did not complain.

One week after giving birth, I woke up with a dead child in my arms. The diagnosis was that I must have slept on the baby unknowingly leading to difficulty in breathing and eventually death. This news broke me. Whether it was accidental or not how do I live with myself knowing I am the cause of death of my son. How could I be so careless? Adrian was buried the same day and during the whole burial period I was in a daze. I enjoyed taking care of him. I did not know what the future held for us but I knew somehow, we would have made it. I did not have a smartphone at that time thus, I do not have pictures of Adrian. The only evidence of Adrian’s existence are his clothes. Not even his grave. I am planning to give out his clothes at some point when am ready. I wish I had taken some photos of him as a reminder of something beautiful that happened to me. I am grateful i got to spend one week with Adrian.


Just Do It

My friend has pitched tons of business ideas to me but has not implemented any of them. The main reason she is trapped in a cycle of great business ideas is because she overthinks each concept. The more she overthinks the more she embraces the uncertainties of the business. She begins to question her ability to venture into that business.

She is not the only one, most people I meet have great business ideas but are afraid of venturing for one reason or the other. At one time, I was speaking to a close friend and we were both discussing about the businesses we are planning to venture in. As expected, I started having cold feet. She told me that as long as am passionate about the business I should just go for it. She also pointed out that I should not worry about the challenges that come with the venture. I will be able to find a solution to each problem as it comes.

Well, the business is doing great and looking back at the moment I started out, I noted a couple of things. You will never learn what entails that business unless you are in it or you invest in it. It is not only about businesses, it could be anything probably photography. You might do all the research about the business or take advice from mentors but it will never be enough. You have to go through the experience yourself before you can fully learn about the business or whatever it is you are planning to do. Giving excuses will only limit your ability to take chances. Take a risk and just do it.

Gift of Life

I was walking back home from work, in an all-black attire despite the heat and busy chatting away on my phone. I hear a strange noise and I turn to look at what is going on. A pick-up is trying to overtake a speeding truck but ends up knocking the side of the truck which causes him to swerve off the road. At the same time there is a mkokoteni (cart) guy standing on the roadside waiting to cross. All this is happening just centimeters from where I am and it happens so fast.

The pickup swerves off the road and the cart guy is thrown into the air and he lands in the trench which is at the roadside. I have never run so hard in my life because the pick-up slides across the road. If I had not looked back at that instant and consequently run, I would be in the same position as the cart guy. In that moment, everything became fuzzy and I was in complete shock. I had never witnessed an accident first-hand, only through the news and newspapers.

There was no blood, just a broken neck and of course death. I stood there oblivious of what was happening around me. I froze, I was shaking all over and I could not move. A young boy around 12 years old came out of nowhere to help retrieve the dead body from the trench. I felt guilty looking at the dead body because it felt like he traded his life for mine. This is because we were in the same spot, I only avoided my fate by running away but he was not so lucky. I attended a funeral on that day with my all black attire.

It was late in the evening, probably the guy was heading home after a long day. I keep replaying the scene in my head and i cannot bring myself to use that route. As I stepped away from the accident scene, I interrogated myself. How will the wife and kids react to the news that they will never see their loved one? I am guessing he was the sole provider. We go to work or other businesses and come back home safe. Not everyone is lucky to come back to their families. How many times have we taken this for granted and not give thanks to God? The driver came out unscratched but how does he feel knowing that he is the cause of death of another person? I am grateful for the gift of life what are you grateful for?

Gift of Appreciation

I always feel bad about not starting my day by giving thanks to God for yet another new day. I am one of those people who feel obligated to start my day with prayer but I always forget. I only remember later in the day that i did not pray. I wake up in the morning and the first thing I think about is my achievements of or rather what exactly made me happy the previous day. I try to block out any negative energy. It boosts my morale for the day.

However, somehow during the day, I start feeling bad about myself. I start comparing my daily routine to some of my friends’ routine. They work fewer hours or better yet don’t have to work at all yet can afford lavish lifestyles. But as am busy feeling unlucky, a friend calls me complaining about how they hate the situation they are in. The friend tells me how lucky I am and how they wish they had my life most importantly my job. That phone call makes me feel guilty about complaining about my job.

I start complaining about my skin and why should I be among people struggling with acne and nasty acne scars. I think about my friend who is struggling with her weight but has the smoothest skin I have ever seen. Then I start imagining I will feel better about myself if I had her smooth skin even if it means having her body. The same friend am admiring keeps telling me, “I can’t walk around town with you because you are so beautiful and have such a nice body. I will only look like a plain girl next to you.” This statement actually boosts my self-esteem.

Like me, most people are trapped in this pessimism cycle. We are only good at complaining about everyone and everything and never appreciate the blessings we have. Look around you, your situation is not the worst. Start by appreciating what you have before you work hard on achieving a better version of you. Overthinking will only lead you to feel bad about yourself. My mum constantly tells me to avoid complaining and work on improving my situation. What are you doing to improve your situation?