China Character Analysis

But that was not her way of doing things. Not as far as my being in danger was concerned. She seemed to think each time I left the house, I could only return with a stomach. To the disgrace of the entire Chizama clan; not just our family. Besides, she was a secretary of the Mothers’ Union at our church. With such high office, she didn’t want anyone to say she had raised a rotten potato. By all means, Mama made sure her potato stayed unspoilt.

[…]

That was the beginning of many a trial, for me. Mama’s making sure I remained “whole” or ‘unspoilt” as she said.

“God put mothers on earth, to ensure the health of their daughters,” I heard often, whenever I attempted to resist the practice. Each time she looked, she’d wash her hands thereafter. But I was the one who felt dirty.

“I am going to boarding school the following year,” he said, his voice flat, with neither gladness nor sorrow in it. With no trace of sadness or regret.

[…]

“The teachers have helped me get a scholarship. They think I am bright, I deserve to get a higher education. And Father has been wonderfully cooperative ... I have his complete support.”

I could not believe his insensitivity. Did China really think I had wanted to leave school, have a baby, become his wife ... or anybody’s wife, for that matter? Did he think I had not had plans for continuing with my education?

I stood there, my feet weighed a ton. I stood there, and a heavy stone came and lodged itself inside my heart. While he was busy explaining his plans and his difficulties, I saw another side to the boy I had so adored and not that long ago. China was vain. Self-centered. And weak. He was a low-down heartless cur.

Once more, it was brought home to me what turmoil the coming of this child had brought to my life. Were it not for him, of course, I would still be in school. Instead, I was forced into being a wife, forever abandoning my dreams, hopes, aspirations. For ever.

“For shoulders so tender, so far from fully formed, great is the weight you bear. You hold yourself and you are held ...” — she paused before saying the word ... “responsible.” She said the word with a sigh, as though she were a judge sending a young person, a first offender, to the gallows. Sending him there because of some terrible and overwhelming evidence she dared disregard only at her own peril.

[…]

“Mama,” she said, her voice once more her own. “You must free this your son.”

I said I didn’t understand.

“You know what I’m talking about. Go home. Think about your child. Children are very sensitive. They know when we hate them.” After a small pause she shook her head. “Perhaps, I use a word too strong ... but, resentment can be worse than hate.”

It was my turn to gasp. My whole being turned to ice. Tears pricked my eyes. I felt my father-in-law’s eyes on me and turned mine his way. His brow was gathered, his eyes wide with unasked questions. But the sangoma wasn’t done.

“But to come back to why you have come to see me,” she broke our locked eyes, “this child has seen great evil in his short little life. He needs all the love and understanding he can get.”

But that was not her way of doing things. Not as far as my being in danger was concerned. She seemed to think each time I left the house, I could only return with a stomach. To the disgrace of the entire Chizama clan; not just our family. Besides, she was a secretary of the Mothers’ Union at our church. With such high office, she didn’t want anyone to say she had raised a rotten potato. By all means, Mama made sure her potato stayed unspoilt.

[…]

That was the beginning of many a trial, for me. Mama’s making sure I remained “whole” or ‘unspoilt” as she said.

“God put mothers on earth, to ensure the health of their daughters,” I heard often, whenever I attempted to resist the practice. Each time she looked, she’d wash her hands thereafter. But I was the one who felt dirty.

“I am going to boarding school the following year,” he said, his voice flat, with neither gladness nor sorrow in it. With no trace of sadness or regret.

[…]

“The teachers have helped me get a scholarship. They think I am bright, I deserve to get a higher education. And Father has been wonderfully cooperative ... I have his complete support.”

I could not believe his insensitivity. Did China really think I had wanted to leave school, have a baby, become his wife ... or anybody’s wife, for that matter? Did he think I had not had plans for continuing with my education?

I stood there, my feet weighed a ton. I stood there, and a heavy stone came and lodged itself inside my heart. While he was busy explaining his plans and his difficulties, I saw another side to the boy I had so adored and not that long ago. China was vain. Self-centered. And weak. He was a low-down heartless cur.

Once more, it was brought home to me what turmoil the coming of this child had brought to my life. Were it not for him, of course, I would still be in school. Instead, I was forced into being a wife, forever abandoning my dreams, hopes, aspirations. For ever.

“For shoulders so tender, so far from fully formed, great is the weight you bear. You hold yourself and you are held ...” — she paused before saying the word ... “responsible.” She said the word with a sigh, as though she were a judge sending a young person, a first offender, to the gallows. Sending him there because of some terrible and overwhelming evidence she dared disregard only at her own peril.

[…]

“Mama,” she said, her voice once more her own. “You must free this your son.”

I said I didn’t understand.

“You know what I’m talking about. Go home. Think about your child. Children are very sensitive. They know when we hate them.” After a small pause she shook her head. “Perhaps, I use a word too strong ... but, resentment can be worse than hate.”

It was my turn to gasp. My whole being turned to ice. Tears pricked my eyes. I felt my father-in-law’s eyes on me and turned mine his way. His brow was gathered, his eyes wide with unasked questions. But the sangoma wasn’t done.

“But to come back to why you have come to see me,” she broke our locked eyes, “this child has seen great evil in his short little life. He needs all the love and understanding he can get.”