Don’t come back here
Loraine Masiya Mponela
I could hear friends mocking, hostile gesture
Finger pointing, whispered accusations
Like a witch to be tied to a stake I had crossed the line
By being pregnant.
Sporting days were better
I could draw into myself
cry, mutter and
go in.
There was no hidden sanctuary for my tears
The toilets were too dirty, classrooms too bare.
No space in the whole campus
For one girl who was pregnant.
The smell of cabbage from the kitchen
Filled me with nausea but that was the only and last meal
I vomited
in silence.
My body was no longer my own
Nose bleeds and showers were now one
The sense of taste now too sharp
For the gritty campus food.
A third eye and ear just developed in me
I could hear a conversation tens of metres away,
I could sense body language from afar
Whispers and gossip flooded my senses
I became a creature from Mars.
Then came a nurse
to do a physical pregnancy check, innocently
Called by the headteacher and
Judases in my class.
I nearly passed out
As she squeezed and pressed my nipples harder
Until some liquid came out
This was the confirmation liquid
My fate was sealed.
Soon I was standing in front of the head sister
‘You have been withdrawn due to pregnancy
Go and be a mother not my student
Take this letter of dismissal
Give it to your guardian, your brother
or who so ever!’
‘How many months is it?’
She asked
I did not answer.
I sauntered away listening to the echoes
‘Don’t come back here!
You are not wanted
Don’t come back here.
You will spoil our innocent students
Don't come back here.
Whatever you do,
Don’t come back here!’
Finger pointing, whispered accusations
Like a witch to be tied to a stake I had crossed the line
By being pregnant.
Sporting days were better
I could draw into myself
cry, mutter and
go in.
There was no hidden sanctuary for my tears
The toilets were too dirty, classrooms too bare.
No space in the whole campus
For one girl who was pregnant.
The smell of cabbage from the kitchen
Filled me with nausea but that was the only and last meal
I vomited
in silence.
My body was no longer my own
Nose bleeds and showers were now one
The sense of taste now too sharp
For the gritty campus food.
A third eye and ear just developed in me
I could hear a conversation tens of metres away,
I could sense body language from afar
Whispers and gossip flooded my senses
I became a creature from Mars.
Then came a nurse
to do a physical pregnancy check, innocently
Called by the headteacher and
Judases in my class.
I nearly passed out
As she squeezed and pressed my nipples harder
Until some liquid came out
This was the confirmation liquid
My fate was sealed.
Soon I was standing in front of the head sister
‘You have been withdrawn due to pregnancy
Go and be a mother not my student
Take this letter of dismissal
Give it to your guardian, your brother
or who so ever!’
‘How many months is it?’
She asked
I did not answer.
I sauntered away listening to the echoes
‘Don’t come back here!
You are not wanted
Don’t come back here.
You will spoil our innocent students
Don't come back here.
Whatever you do,
Don’t come back here!’
Loraine Masiya Mponela is a community organiser and migrants rights campaigner based in England. She is the current chairperson for Coventry asylum and refugee action group (CARAG), a peer-led self-organised community group. She is originally from Malawi. Loraine has a lovely son, Comfort.
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