What an expensive mistake

28 Jun, 2015 - 00:06 0 Views

The Sunday Mail

Careen Chihlangu, L6

Queen Elizabeth High

THE atmosphere was menacing as I stood by the closed door. With my hands behind my back, I gloomily glared at my now bulging stomach. The vivid picture of the inevitable consequences of my actions brought a spasm of pain in me.

My thoughts spun back to reality when suddenly the door opened.

I crept into the staffroom as I left the door ajar.

They all glanced at me contemptuously as I tried to suite myself in the room.

I was made to stand in the middle and in a cloud of fear, I only just managed.

My favourite teachers, Mr Kondo and Mrs Tembo, gazed at me, leaving me with a puzzled mind of what they now thought of me.

The Headmaster, Mr Gorombe, who looked rather piqued by my presence, sat in a corner, holding a printed paper.

The sweet breeze played magical flutes on the leaves of the acacia trees, as a gentle wind whispered like the effortless course of our village spring. I comfortably sat at the school grounds with my best friend, Mitchel, as we enjoyed our lunch.

The Tuesday morning had been hectic and tiresome after attending eight different lessons.

Suddenly, the head girl, Rufaro, appeared in our midst.

She gave a malignant glare before I stood up and greeted her.

“Follow me to the staffroom.”

My heart skipped a bit at hearing her words.

She was endowed by a curved figure which she disciplined by squeezing in tight slakes and skirts, and no one dared her as she also had a very commanding voice, showing no mood for jokes with people not her age.

Swiftly, I stood up and left my property in the care of Mitchel.

On arrival, small beads of sweat danced round my brow.

She left me standing at the door, without leaving any instruction.

Mr Jonga passed by me and said, ”Are you the Careen. God have mercy.” His words sent a little quiver down my sensitive spine.

I had committed a sin for which I had to pay the price for the rest of my life.

There I was, jostling for breath in a pool of shame.

I gave a little prayer as I looked down gloomily in desperation and feeling stupid.

The door was opened by Mrs Chasara, whom I exchanged a quizzical look with.

I crept inside and felt a change in the atmosphere.

I came to feel the chill in the room which penetrated the bone, as the gravity of the fear that now engulfed me came to be unbearable.

I felt self-loathing and swore under my breath as I pondered merciless questions on myself.

“We know your story already, and we cannot accommodate mothers as students in these premises.”

Mr Gorombe handed me the paper he held after saying the rather painful words.

Tears streamed down my taut skin as I turned for the door.

I could hear the whispers from behind as they all uttered my name.

“Get out!”

I quickly recognised Mrs Tembo`s voice and quietly staggered for the door.

The intense embarrassment forced me to relinquish my Ordinary Level, and I came to learn my life lesson.

 

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