Secrets Of The Zimbabwean Girl Child: My Daddy Touched Me: Part Two

Dear World

In order to understand part two of this story, you have to understand part one. The story is in reverse.

Now here is Part Two.

I am now out of the bottle. I am not a Jinni in a bottle anymore. I will not be protecting Zimbabwean culture, the country or my family anymore. I have carried this burden for way too long.  I now want to live the rest of my life in total freedom. So allow me to say this Zimbabwean taboo that no Zimbabwean girl openly talks about.

Once upon a time my own Daddy didn’t see me as a daughter.  This is not my shame to carry.

When I completed my O’levels, GCSE’s, Chief Mutota who was my Daddy took me to Harare in search of the best schools for to do my A’Levels. I spent a day with him, he had also recently bought me some very nice expensive clothes.

So I put on my best apparel, and off I went to Harare with him. I wanted Jameson High which is out of Harare, but he got me a boarding place at Girls High Harare because he said he was really connected to Tthe Headmistress and they were good friends. I was not happy with the school but I accepted it.

After I got the place at Girls High, we drove back home to Karoi, and passed through the famous Chinhoyi Caves, where Chief Mutota treated me to a very expensive dinner.

I came home and told Miriam, my former mother, that I had had some special quality time with Chief Mutota, growing up I never got to spend that kind of quality time with him. So I thought, Daddy had been good to me that day.

‘I was really treated today mum, I ate dinner at Chinhoyi Caves.’ I gushed to my mother.

But Miriam said to me, ‘So you think he took you out as a daughter? He wants you to be his girlfriend, that’s the dream I always have of him and you, that you two are lovers.’

I became so confused. The joy of being taken out by my father turned into an unpleasant feeling of shame.

When I started my A’levels at Girls High School, for some reason Chief Mutota would give me a lot of pocket money,  a bit more than what I needed. Miriam would be very angry and upset so I would feel bad and take some of the pocket money and give it to her.

Then a few months later, I was about 16 years old, Chief Mutota started looking at me with lustful eyes. I thought maybe I’m suspecting, so I tried so hard not to see what I was seeing. Was Miriam right? I became so confused.

During this time, I had decided not to return for the 3rd term of 5th Form at Girls High School, I had been very discouraged because of the art teacher, who was an old white woman who refused to acknowledge anything I did. I had gone to this High School only because it taught art, but during my time at Girls High I learnt nothing at all. So I told Chief Mutota that I was not going back, I didn’t want to waste his money on school fees.

Chief Mutota allowed me to stay at home. I got a job as a voter registrar.

My older brother had been chased away from home. Yes Chief Mutota chased my older brother away from home when he was about 16 years old because he had not done the garden or something silly like that. So the boy went to Harare where he says lived like a street kid. Chief Mutota said he never wanted to see him in the house ever again, each time he tried to come back there would be uproar, which led to the boy going for juju to try and kill Chief Mutota.

The twins, my younger siblings were at boarding school.

During this time it was just me and my parents at home. It was the first time I had lived with them alone.

Chief Mutota would look at me all the time.

I became nervous around him.

One night, around 12 midnight, I was up watching TV in the lounge. Chief Mutota was sleeping on the other sofa. Miriam had gone to bed.

He then woke up, and looked around, and said to me quietly, ‘Come here and sit with me.’

I could not believe what I was hearing. He said it again, putting his hand where he wanted me to come and sit.

I said no, stood up and ran to my room. I was so scared. The door had no lock, so I didn’t know if he was going to follow me into the bedroom.

He didn’t.

I said nothing to mother the next day.

Days went by. I was afraid of being raped, especially at night, for I slept alone, and there was no lock on the door, and he never knocked.

One day in the afternoon, I was sitting on the bed. He opened the door, and I jumped up. He asked me if I had seen the hammer, as he was talking, he reached over me and touched my breast. Somehow I saw Miriam peeping through from the kitchen door, she quickly went back, but I saw her. She saw it, what happened.

I moved back, feeling so violated.

He looked as if he was confused, and left the room, then left the house.

Why would my own Daddy touch my breast? I couldn’t understand.

Then I went to Miriam in the kitchen.

‘What was Daddy saying to you?’ She asked me.

‘Ummm, he was looking for the hammer,’ I told her.

‘Hmmm, okay.’ Miriam said, looking intensely at me.

To be continued…

The Genesis Of The Revelation

By Mary-Tamar





One thought on “Secrets Of The Zimbabwean Girl Child: My Daddy Touched Me: Part Two

  1. Dear Jean’You are a very intelligent woman so I am sure you know that it is your family that is dysfunctional not the Shona people nor the country of Zimbabwe. Therefore only you know why you are insisting on taking the dis functionalism in your family and conflating it with the Shona people and Zimbabwe as a country. Your husband is not who he is because he comes from ‘perfect ethnic group’ in a ‘perfect country’ called Ghana.
    I have lived in Ghana, those people are into African religion and ‘black’ magic arts big time. ask your boaz about trokoshi, FGM etc


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