Monday 3 October 2022

See Me ~ Amahle Njilo

 

See me as XL.

 

They tell me I’m too free

Too free to be in South Africa

Too free to be a black young woman in South Africa

They tell me that they see me, they watch me.

Every waking moment I await to hear

Of another 16 year- old girl

Probably raped by her dad

Who has lost all hope for her future

And see me gliding across the room

With glinting eyes that still shimmer with hope

A hope that is never lasting

For an attack that is everlasting

And twitter tells me that stretch marks are now in style

So I stand in front of the mirror to check I still have some

And stare wearily at the person that I think I’ve become

Yet, I tell him every day, I thank him everyday

I make sure he sees his heart in me every day, his love in me everyday

And surely he isn’t real but I have to prepare because he is always watching

And see me walking home after school and hearing them whistle

And seeing the sinister lust in his eyes

See my spine shiver as I hear his name for me, making me doubt my own name

And standing in the middle of the street, stranger danger

To check if everyone can see what is happening

But realising that everyone thinks it’s a norm

Because a man always has to show his appreciation for what he sees.

And a well-rounded lady is what every African man needs.

Yet, my mother, she frets for me

She sees this young insecure girl, who thinks she is never going to make it

She is sure that she will make it

But she is afraid

Afraid that surely my boyfriend will come to our house someday and ask to help carry her groceries

And hope entirely, that he is the best boyfriend for me

But surely it will scar him to know that his love was never a part of me,

It was never linked to me because his addiction was never my addiction,

I’m entitled to sobriety.

 

See me as XS.

 

And this sobriety that can never be undone

Because when push comes to shove, I am every girl’s dream

And this time, he loves me more than ever

He said it, so I believe him.

Yet, I still feel empty on the inside, like something is missing

As he put me to sobriety when he held me down and fulfilled his sore desire

See me scream as he carries on, as if my screams are not heard

I’m the perfect type, for everyone, but that’s what is needed, right?

Because if he does not like me and if they do not like me, then what?

And see the different groups watch me with envy whenever I wear my miniskirt

They think I’m overdoing it but it shouldn’t matter

Because I think I know why I’m doing this

They see me, they watch me.

And see me hope and pray that I don’t turn into Miss Pizza Face anytime soon

Because everybody knows fresh is better

And on Instagram I almost have 5000 followers, which is pretty good

Considering I’m only 16.

And see my mother’s worried look

Because she thinks I’ve gone too far, she doesn’t know me anymore

She prays to see me walking with a nice boy who probably wears glasses

Who asks her, begs her, to help carry the groceries

So that I can see the he is the perfect guy for me,

Instead of the car I’m always dropped out of because she stopped fetching me from school

Because I told her, I could handle it.

 

See us united.

 

And see us smile and hope for the future

A future that probably never existed

A future that we think is okay.

See us walk with pride in streets that are filled with barbarians that we call our brothers

Because maybe, we are too free to be in South Africa

Maybe we are too free to be black, young women in South Africa

And maybe those are just our lives.


Amahle Njilo

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Grade 10

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