Confessions Of A ZCAS Student – I Infected 900 Men With HIV
My story is not a sweet one. I was brought up by a stepfather who defiled me as soon as I turned 14 years old, as soon as my womanhood started to blossom the bastard unzipped his pants on me, “an innocent child”. I do not sugar coat the truth, I don’t believe in fairytales because the pain I hold in my heart has consumed and devoured me.
My Mother was a naïve Housewife who let her daughter get stripped off her most valuable treasure by her second husband. What was she to do? The imbecile had no backbone; she depended on my stepfather for anything because she never had any relatives or any basic education.
Hello, my name is Memory and this is my story.
I was born in 1991 in Kitwe and I have seen my life taken away from me. I was abused since I was 14 years and my deranged mother knew about it and she didn’t do anything because she never wanted to lose my stepfather. She had no option; she never knew better, I mean what can make a Mother sacrifice her daughter in that manner. Well, at least that’s how I comforted myself every time my Step Father took down my pants.
Getting raped became a norm in our house. As I grew older my resentment towards men was intensified. At the dinner table during family meals, all I contemplated on was slicing my stepfather’s manhood with a chainsaw.
I graduated in 2008 and as soon as I wrote my final paper, I never returned home. I went to Lusaka with my Helen Kaunda Girls’ uniform. I swore to God, my stepfather wouldn’t ever rape me one more time.
I hooked up with a Facebook friend I had made contact with earlier. He was my stepping-stone. I stayed with him till my results came out and luckily I passed all the subjects I sat for.
The bright lights of Lusaka made me feel like a brand new person. Finally I had escaped my evil stepfather. For one moment I thought I had found a better life, then reality gave me a check and hit me in the face again. The Facebook friend of mine I had fallen in love with died in a road accident. I sobbed for weeks. I couldn’t continue living anymore.
I had to survive, I had to, I just had to. I was a beautiful woman endowed with a body of a goddess. My beauty would make any man speak in tongues. I had no other option but to start the hustle. I started going to nightclubs in short skirts that exposed my entire body. As easy as it was, men started lining up showering me with money. I soon became a millionaire. Government officials were just a text away and they would come to my apartment with hard penises.
I decided to enroll my self into college and I started attending classes at ZCAS. I was a student by day, a hooker by night. I exchanged sex for grades in college. By the time I was in the fourth semester, I had sex with almost every lecturer at ZCAS. My roommate’s rich husband wasn’t also spared; I had sex with almost any man who would offer me money or better grades.
Just like any other similar story, the ending is nothing but horrific. I had gotten infected and I tasted positive for HIV. I knew that was my outcome sooner or later but I continued having unprotected sex with non-suspecting men.
During my hay days I slept with over 900 males in Lusaka and all of them have been infected too except for a few lucky ones.
My lifestyle caught up with me and I finally got too sick. I was later admitted at UTH. I write this to you all in my hospital bed. I deserve to be in here. I have seen people in my wing die and I know my turn is coming soon. You live by the sword, you die by the sword goes the saying. I am ready Lord, please take me.
This is a warning to my fellow girls; take care of your selves. Your beauty will bring you to UTH if you cant keep your legs closed.