Driven by demons

I am a 14-year-old boy and I hope that my story will help other girls and boys realise that not every adult in your life is interested in seeing you make the best out of yourself.

I grew up in the rural areas and dropped out of school in grade five. I was tired of always being chased out of school because my school fees was never paid. I never had a uniform and as for school shoes, forget it. I was lucky to get a pair of “yellow pushes” once in a while. They would grow so old that in the end my heels would be stepping directly on the ground because the sole would be all worn out.

My parents did not seem to care about school at all. They never asked how I was getting on and even when I asked for stationery they simply told me that there was no money. Yet there was always money for my father to buy some alcohol and for my mother to buy flour and sugar so that she could make the fat-fried scones that she loves so much.

When I came back from school she expected me to fetch water from the borehole which was very far away. Then I would have to get the livestock penned and by then it would be too late too do any school work as I would be tired. It was the same for my younger siblings.

Then when I was in Grade Five my mother said I should go and live with her cousin who would take care of me. I was happy to get away until I realised that I was to be a herdboy. I stayed there for three months during which I never received a cent for my work as all the money was sent to my parents.

After that I ran away and came to Harare.

Now I live on the streets of Harare trying to eke a living through washing cars and other small jobs. But it is a tough life because there are other people living on the street and you have to obey their rules.

There are too many horrible things that happen on the street like getting raped or having all your money and food taken away by the bigger boys and men. And now that the rain season is here, sleeping becomes a proper nightmare on bad nights and we have to use a lot of “bronco” to get through. But for me there is no choice. I can never go back to those cruel people who are my parents because they do not care about me. Sometimes I wonder if my little brother and sisters are still there and if anyone has helped them get an education so that they stand a real chance in life.