CHAPTER SIX A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING

 

A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING

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CHAPTER SIX

A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING

From the Mountain to the City Lights

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you only have two choices, and both of them are wrong?

That was where I was.

It was no longer about choosing what was right. It was about survival.

Do… or be destroyed.

Mr. Officer walked into the house like he belonged there. He sat comfortably on the couch, relaxed, as if this was his own home.

He was not wearing his police uniform this time. Instead, he wore a slim polo shirt, neatly tucked in, with shining black shoes. He looked clean, well prepared — like a man who had just come from church.

But I knew better.

He was not here for church.

He was here for me.

He looked like a man in his mid-thirties. But there was something about him that made me uncomfortable. I did not want to sit close to him.

And then I realised something.

If my aunt trusted him enough to check on the house, then she would also trust him more than me.

If he spoke against me…

I would lose everything.

This house.

My place in Windhoek.

My dream.

And if I lost this place, I would have no choice but to follow Ndjona-Top’s lifestyle — moving from one man to another just to survive.

That was not my dream.

I tried to remain calm.

I offered him juice.

I tried to talk about normal things, hoping to keep him distracted.

I asked him how he knew my aunt.

He smiled and said,

“We have known each other for a long time. When she was still studying at the Polytechnic of Namibia, now NUST, she used to stay at my sister’s place in Katutura.”

He spoke as if everything was normal.

But nothing was normal.

After more than an hour, he became bored.

Before I could think of something else to say, he stood up and came to sit next to me.

Too close.

He put his arm around my shoulder.

“Let us go to the room,” he said.

My heart began to beat fast.

I begged him.

But the more I begged, the more he seemed to enjoy it.

I felt trapped.

I tried to explain.

“I am not ready,” I said. “I have never been with a man. Please… give me time.”

I was saying things I had never imagined I would say to a stranger.

But he became angry.

He pushed me back onto the couch.

“You are wasting my time,” he said harshly.

“Me, I can do whatever I want.”

He warned me not to scream.

“No one will help you,” he said. “Even if you report me, the case will disappear.”

At that moment, I understood something very painful.

The person who was supposed to protect me…

Was the one hurting me.

In my village, a police officer is respected. He is seen as the law.

But here…

He was using his power against me.

I was afraid.

Deeply afraid.

I realised I needed to survive.

I needed to think.

So I told him,

“Please wait. Let me prepare.”

I needed a way out.

Anything.

After some time, I managed to break away from him and rushed to the bathroom. I locked the door.

I stood in front of the mirror.

I could not recognise the girl I saw.

I brushed my teeth.

I washed my face.

And I cried.

Silently.

I felt empty.

As if something inside me had been taken away.

“Open the door!” he shouted, knocking hard.

“You are taking too long!”

I wiped my tears.

I forced myself to breathe.

Then I opened the door.

He was waiting.

He smiled.

“I will consider our agreement done,” he said.

Then he left.

The house became quiet again.

But inside me, there was no peace.

I went to my room and lay down.

I was tired.

Broken.

All I wanted was sleep.

Then my phone rang.

It was Ndjona-Top.

She was laughing.

Talking about how much fun she had the previous night.

How I had ruined the party by wanting to leave early.

For a moment, I thought she would ask me if I was okay.

But she did not.

When she heard my voice, she noticed something was wrong.

“I am coming,” she said.

When she arrived, she looked at me carefully.

“Hey, sissy,” she said softly.

“I know you are far from home. Life here is crazy. Omwano mbo uriri motjirongo tjokakambe.”
(It means: it is just like that in the city.)

“After a few days, you will get used to it.”

I wanted to tell her everything.

But I could not.

I was ashamed.

Then she said something that surprised me.

“Get ready. We are going out. You need a drink, mundu wa mama.”

(Mundu wa mama means my sister.)

“Today, it is just us girls. I will introduce you to the Hot Girls of UNAM.”

I looked at her.

Does she ever get tired?

Does she ever stop?

But I did not have the strength to argue.

My aunt was not around.

I had money.

And maybe…

Just maybe…

I needed to forget.

As I got dressed, I gave Ndjona-Top her purse.

“Do you want to count the money?” I asked.

She laughed.

“I already know,” she said. “Yours is N$4000. Mine is N$6000. I am the queen.”

I stayed quiet.

But inside, I was asking myself:

Is my own cousin using me?

We went to Okabashu-Kovahimba in Katutura.

The place was full of lights.

Music.

Young people.

Everyone looked stylish.

The boys wore tight jeans and slim shirts.

The girls wore short dresses and heels.

They looked confident.

Beautiful.

I looked at myself.

I did not look like them.

But I did not care.

Tonight, I wanted to forget.

We danced.

We laughed.

For a moment, I felt free.

Ndjona-Top introduced me to her friends:

Kenaa.

And Tjipaa, also called Tjipa-Tjipa.

They were beautiful.

Confident.

Strong.

More girls joined us.

Soon, some men noticed us.

They bought champagne.

More bottles came.

Music became louder.

People started singing:

“Started from the bottom, now we here!”

Money was thrown into the air.

Some girls picked it up.

But Ndjona-Top and her friends did not.

They took pictures.

Posted them online.

Smiling.

Living their best lives.

By the end of the night, I was drunk.

But happy.

Or at least… pretending to be.

Later, Tjipaa dropped me home in her Mercedes-Benz.

Before leaving, Ndjona-Top said,

“Do not forget your admission letter. Ove ngu meraere nao.”
(It means: I am talking to you.)

I said, “Alright.”

And went inside.

The next thing I knew, the sun was shining in my face.

I woke up in panic.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I checked my phone.

16:45.

Five missed calls from Ndjona-Top.

And a message from my mother:

“My child, wake up. Remember to take your admission letter. You must register today. I love you.”

The message was sent at 07:00.

My heart dropped.

I had missed registration.

I sat there in silence.

What have I done?

If I do not register, I may lose my place.

If I lose my place…

I lose my dream.

My bursary.

My future.

Was my dream destroyed…

Because of one night?

Because of money?

Because of this city?

My heart became heavy again.

Tell me…

What would you have done?

As I looked around the quiet room, I whispered once more:

“Welcome to the city… A Girl from Ehomba Mountain.”

The End of Chapter Six

Wait for Part Seven as A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING continues…