The Comforting Cross

Growing up as a little girl, I received many beatings from my mum. Just like every other African mother, they do not spare the rod and spoil the child. At that time, I must collect a slap or beating for every misbehavior or act. It got to a point where I became afraid to sit close to my mum or even see her raise her hands. It was so bad that she might want to raise her hands to pick up something, and I would flinch in fear. Sometimes, when I flinch, she would just call my name and overlook it. Growing up, I was afraid to tell my mum some things because I did not want to attract more beatings. The fear sat deep in my chest like a shadow that followed me everywhere. Recently, I noticed something about myself. When I am with people, especially friends, I always raise my hand to beat them jokingly. They even complain that my hand is painful. Sometimes, I do not even know when I do it. You may say something funny or slightly annoying, and my first reaction is to hit you. It comes so natural...