How can I call her mummy, when she doesn’t try to love me?
One day the lady they called my mother, whom I still found hard to call mummy, told me to iron some clothes, both mines and hers. I was doing ok until I came to a pleated skirt. I tried and tried to get those pleats in but I didn’t know how. Every time I ironed she would crumple it back up and made me do it all over again. I ironed for the whole day and each time I would either get a slap or the clothes would be crumpled and thrown at me. I was eight years old but I was not allowed to sit down until the ironing was to her standard. This was because my little hands could not pleat the skirt the way she wanted it. I had no food and I was tired, but I carried on and each time she would crumple it and let me start again. Late in the evening she was visited by one of her close Friend. Miss Myrtle. She was a very large lady with very big bosoms, she had a kind face. She sat on the bed and after a long while of me standing she said to her ” sister B, no! she is tired, let the Pickney go to bed” and she took the iron from me. I fell asleep immediately hungry and tired. I must say I’m now an expert at pleating skirts.
Funny how we can become so good at something we have done for a long time.
That was just one of my punishment, I was never treated as a child from the moment I stepped off the aeroplane. Life was sad and miserable. There were no birthdays or Christmas presents. My life reflected souly on the bible, I had to read a psalms every night without fail. Despite this God was always someone I looked up to. Although I was still too young to understand about God, when I read the bible stories I wanted him to save me. I was always very intrigued by the bible and god. I could loose myself in the bible, a way of taking refuge during the sad times.
I remember one night she left me alone and went out. I was so scared so I took all her bibles, and there were many in the house and made a cross and slept inside the cross on the bed. For some reasons I felt her God would protect me, as the bible stories made him out to be really nice. It appears that she was pleased I did that, as I heard her tell a friend. “Wow”, I finally did something good. But I still hated calling her mummy. But that soon changed…