Hermaphrodite

In the village of Phashasha just outside the Free State province, was a girl by the name of Salome. A drop dead gorgeous ultra violet sun ray absorbing magnificent girl. A face like a movie star. A body like moist clay. A voice like a gentle summer breeze. Of all the sisters in the family, all two of them, she was her mother’s pride and her mother would tell her so.

Salome was from a big family. Her father was married to her mother but he had mistresses all over the village. This meant she not only had her older sister Lerato and younger brother Khazi, but at least 7 half-brothers and a couple of half-sisters as well living within the vicinity of their home. She felt safe knowing that they were nearby to protect her should she have trouble. Being the most desired girl in the village, she had plenty of boy troubles because she turned them all down. But they knew not to take it too far unless they wanted to deal with her small army of loud mouth sisters and violent brothers.

Patrick was Salome’s neighbour three houses down and her schoolmate as well. He would come over the house and tend to the garden with Salome's dad. He would also run errands for Salome's mom if her baby brother wasn't around. His school marks were pretty good too, and he would never fool around like other kids bunking school and getting high. Patrick was overall trustworthy and an upstanding young man. But he also had a tender heart. So tender it would wilt if touched by a feather. This tenderness diluted further when he proposed to Salome and was in turn forced to join the long meandering queue of suitors.

Salome was out with her friends Mimi and Dimakatso one night at Ziksa's. A very popular local pub in the area about six blocks from her home. It was a girls night out for the three friends and they were having a blast. At about 12:45 midnight, Mimi received a phone call. She spoke briefly before hanging up and asked the girls if they would accompany her to see her boyfriend who was waiting two blocks down from the pub. The girls agreed and made their way. Dimakatso led the way as if she knew exactly where Mimi's boyfriend was waiting. This seemed strange to Salome but she brushed it aside and carried on. When they had reached the destination, the awaiting boyfriend turned out to be Patrick and four of his friends.

"Hi Salome," he greeted her with an anticipatory undertone. "Hi Patrick," she replied. He slowly paced towards her never breaking eye contact. He spoke slowly and softly at first. "I pour my heart out to you and do everything to show you I care," he continued to pace towards her. "But you throw it in my face!" he said angrily. She tried to reply but he hushed her up and walked right up to her face. "Today you pay the price for all the labour I put myself through. The ashy stars in your eyes that blurred my vision!" He grabbed her by the throat. She looked over at Mimi and Dimakatso, "get help, fetch my brothers!" in a gargled voice. Her friends looked back at her with sinister smiles on their faces. This was a set up and they had played it perfectly. They edged Patrick on whilst accusing Salome of stealing their men, making herself better than them and voicing their feelings of inadequacy that they were blaming all on her. Salome was trying to scream but Patrick had his hands around her throat so tightly veins were popping out of her forehead. His four friends helped him drag her to the nearest darkest bush with the girls throwing curses at her and edging the boys on further. They threw her to the ground and continued to rip her dress apart and ripped her underwear off too. She moaned with despair and cried rampantly, all the while begging and pleading for them to stop as they took advantage of her one by one. She had never known a man so the pain of forced penetration was excruciating. She lay there in the dark spot with tears blocking her ears and her mind swirling in lost directions. What seemed forever finally came to an end as the boys stood up with blood stained waists all five of them. The blood of a deflowered rose ripped from the stem without roots to be planted in a field of parasitic weeds. Patrick spat at her naked withered body. "You're not so special now are you?" he grimaced, exchanging handshakes with his boys. The girls threw their last curses at her before they all disappeared onto the dusty streets with the boys hand in hand. Salome crouched into a fetal position, crying, confused and cold. The bleeding between her thighs slowed from the cold and she let out one last moan before slowly and painfully standing herself up. In a wobbly saunter she maneuvered out of the bush and onto the dusty street, finding her way home naked in the early morning chill.

Inspector Joe Shiluvane was a patriarchal type of man. He believed in women working the kitchen while men brought home the bacon. If he had things his way, women of choice would still be getting clubbed over the head and dragged back to the cave. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a civilized world. He was also assigned with the rape case of Salome Dithote.

Approximately a year and a half ago, Joe had attempted to acquire the hand of Salome in marriage. He had written the letter of permission to her parents, managed to get an appointment arranged for a meeting with the Dithote elders and a price was agreed upon for Lobola. But Salome was not interested. She didn’t want to marry a man she was not in love with. Especially one who seemed a little too old for her, so she refused. Joe and his entourage were forced to retreat and there was a certain level of embarrassment suffered by his family following the incident. He stared at the rape docket he held in his hands with a wry smile on his face. He opened the first page pen in hand. As he read through the papers he made miscellaneous markings here and there. Two weeks later the case was thrown out of court.

The humiliation that was to follow was dastardly. Everybody in the community initially found it hard to believe Patrick could have committed such a lowly crime. With the case being thrown out of court, it strengthened peoples conviction of a shameful girl who wrongfully accused a young boy of a crime that could have destroyed his bright future. She was being called names everywhere she went. The brothers and sisters that she looked to for protection, no longer wanted to be associated with her and began to keep their distance. Her father had his own doubts and never spoke to her about the incident. Only her mother could tell that her daughter had been violated but that wasn’t enough to convince anybody. It was inevitable that she would have to relocate. After two months of torment she moved to the city to live with her aunt Bridgette. She was younger sister to Salome’s father. Salome left the Phashasha village behind and started life anew in a foreign land, the city.

The change in environment served Salome well. She was back in school and had joined the local church’s youth group. There she met Humbulani. A dashing young stallion who was bright, smart and confident. Even though the church group was meant strictly for religious worship, his smooth seductive overture reigned her in. She soon found herself entranced in his melody of flirtation and allowed his image to dance around her train of thought regularly. The whirlwind romance that ensued quickly led to wedding proposals as is the tradition of the church. Salome was ecstatic.

A few months into the relationship Humbulani began to display a different side to his personality. He didn’t like Salome wearing outfits that revealed even the slightest hint of skin or curve. He would also insist on accompanying her almost everywhere she went. If he couldn’t be there he would ask for status reports on regular intervals. Salome found it cute at first. The thought of her man wanting her only to himself was comforting and flattering. But Humbulani’s behavior went from a fleeting jealous streak, to dancing cheek to cheek with the darkness. He began to insult her and call her horrible names. He would accuse her of being a slut who seduces men with her body by hypnotizing them with her face. The insults turned into slaps on the face. These in turn became full out beatings of rage for the slightest infraction. Salome wanted to leave but her church beliefs didn’t allow her to separate from the man she made lifetime vows with. She became a victim of her own beauty and was made to suffer on a weekly basis. She wasn’t even allowed to communicate with her family anymore. “They’re helping to put ideas in your head,” he would growl as he punched her in the chest and struck her jaw with his knee. Flailing like a rag doll, she would beg for forgiveness and promise to be a better wife. “You better learn fast,” he would snarl. As he squeezed her throat with his hands, thoughts of a time forgotten would resurface as she slipped in and out of unconsciousness. The tears that streamed uncontrollably. The deep early morning chill on a naked body laying on the ground, with the surrounding bushes as the only solace. The blood stained waists of five boys congratulating each other and two girls spurring them on. They were as familiar as her husband was right now. So she hid inside her mind like she did that night. She stayed there each time her husband would lay his hands on her. Not hands of passion. That hadn’t existed for months. It was strictly straight to business incase she had picked up an STD of some imaginary sort. So she thought baring him children would extinguish this evil flame burning their ties.

She fell pregnant the first time and everything returned to before. When they were in love. When she was so deeply seduced by his charms that she would spin like a pinwheel in her mind. She was even talking to her family again, and had managed to pay them a visit to show them the newborn. Not too long after their first born, she fell pregnant again. But this pregnancy wasn’t the same as the first. He began to accuse her again. “You’ve just had a baby and now you’re pregnant with a second,” he said with his hands in the air. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that it’s mine?” She would just sit in the corner with a look of surrender. When she fell pregnant the third time the beatings returned. More vile with intention to hurt the unborn. “You think I’m stupid!” grabbing a pile of her hair in his fist. “You think I don’t know who you’re sleeping with, you think I don’t know!” as he repeatedly struck her belly with his knees. Trying to protect the baby she would turn her back to him only to be kicked and planted face down on the ground. The third pregnancy ended in miscarriage, as well as the fourth one. The fifth pregnancy had better fortune as the baby was born but was mentally disabled. Salome would take care of the child the same way she did the others as her husband bellowed in the background. “This is what happens when you whore around all over town. You produce retarded children. Serves you right slut!” She would carry on her motherly duties regardless. Misty eyed on regular days with nobody to cry to. She endured the physicality’s but not without consequences.

Salome’s physical structure had begun to change over the years. The curves, the perky breasts, the strawberry lips and full flowing hair. The tender silky skin and perfect smile teeth. The buxom booty and sultry voice. All these features had begun to fade in a short life span. A fate that was relegated to the elderly. Years of beatings and bodily harm had taken their toll but how deep?

Her immediate younger brother passed on after a fatal car accident which allowed Salome to visit her family for the first time in years for his burial. In time the Dithote family had begun to split up with some brothers and sisters leaving the village to start families of their own. This meant a whole new brood of half relatives and acquaintances. There was cheering and happiness with everybody excited to see each other after lengthy absences. A middle aged man showed up with a caravan of kids in the early morning of the burial day. He had a familiar but scarred face with a skinny, almost sickly physique with various scars on his body as well. Nobody could really pinpoint who he was. It wasn’t much of a bother anyway as there were other people there were who weren’t immediately familiar either. The funeral procession went according to plan and after the casket was laid to rest, everybody got together for the after tears celebration. This was at the original family home where the mother and father still lived along with Lerato and her two children. The scarred man hung around and was calling most people by name which confused a lot of them. They wanted to know who he was but were too embarrassed to ask. “Salome!” shouted mother from inside the house. With everybody surprised and shocked, the man they were all asking about replied, “Ma!” and proceeded to stand up and make his way inside the house. The original brothers and sisterd were in disbelief. Those who weren’t family made jokes about a man with a girl’s name. They had no idea who she really was. Tears began to flow down the eyes of those who shared her blood as reality began to kick in. The reality of so many years ago when nobody stood up for an innocent girl and allowed her to be ridiculed so badly, who was forced to relocate to a foreign land. The results of their betrayal had called them by name individually and they were clueless. A deep silence descended upon the yard amidst the noise of funeral attendees jovially drinking and dancing, unaware of the living tragedy that the Dithote family were abruptly dealing with.