Subscribe to our Newsletter

Felicia came knocking on my door at 2 am, lip busted and eye swollen. Her hair was ruffled too, it could have been from a fight or perhaps it was in its natural state. I could not tell.

Of course it was just a matter of time before Paulus laid his hands on her. He was just another Moses, Jackson and Sunday. Unfortunately for Felicia, her only job was being an attraction for the worst of men and buying what they sold.

I tried not to blame her. Growing up, a life of hurt and betrayal was all Felicia had known. It was introduced to her by her father, the man who should’ve protected her. The coward put a gun in his mouth when people found out he was using his own daughter as a concubine.

My poor half-sister.

“What will you do now?” I asked as I set a cup of hot tea in front of her. She shivered, but how could she not, the night was cold and all she had on was a red, spaghetti strap mini dress.

She looked at the cup. “Don’t you have something stronger?”

I shook my head.

“Still sober?” She asked.

I nodded and smiled that Felicia remembered my 3-year sobriety journey.

She sighed. “Maybe I can stay here until I find my feet.”

I tried not to chuckle. Finding her feet meant going on with her life with no plan. Every other week when I called to check on Felicia, she was in some stranger’s house. She was never in the same place for a long period.

“I promise I won’t cause problems while I’m here.” She told me and continued scratching at her bare skin, leaving white, ashy stripes. She had promised something similar before but then she took off with a few of my belongings while I was at work. I was pretty sure between the two of us, I was the only one who remembered that.

“Please?” She begged. I had never once turned her away and never would. Our grandmother on her deathbed asked me to take care of Felicia because we would only have each other. That was when I promised to be sober and do my best.

“The spare bedroom is always there for you.” I told her.

~

5 days later, Felicia was gone. The nearby church was looking to train new ushers and I suggested it to her. She would have a place to stay and make some money. A good life without chaos scared her so by the next morning, she packed her bag of new clothes and left. I would have to wait until she showed up at my doorstep looking for shelter or money to see her again. She would be happily welcomed.

Felicia’s antics were unpleasant to watch but there was not much I could do for her. When Jackson nearly killed her, upon leaving the hospital, she went and dropped the charges against him and moved in back with him. I was the enemy when I protested. Felicia claimed I didn’t understand her relationship with Jackson.

I knew then Felicia could not be saved by anyone other than herself. Change would be at her own behest.

~

I woke up to the knocking on my door at 4 am, the police came and told me Felicia’s body had been discovered in a riverbed. Her head was bashed in with a brick after being severely beaten. Paulus was in police custody.

Felicia died at the hands of the thing she found comfort in most. A man who claimed to love her but showed it in the worst way possible.

I could not bring myself to shed a tear. Felicia had finally found peace.

Later that evening when I left work, I wandered the streets of Windhoek for a little while. Felicia had been on my mind all day. The image of the little girl who needed to be saved from her father would not leave me. I might have been younger than her but surely there was something I could have done to help her.  

Having had enough of my own thoughts, I headed to the one place I knew would make me forget about them, even if it was just for a little while.

I was greeted by the laughter of strangers and loud music when I entered the tavern.