Written by Nobuhle Nyoni
PART 1
“Is she psychic? Or a magician, maybe? How did she know my period would come by so quickly? It has been four days since she said it, and it has come true. Anyway, what do I do now? Do I use tissue paper before whispering in my mom’s ear? This moment has suddenly become more stressful than I imagined it to be. Gosh!”
She rolled up some tissue, placed it inside her panties and pulled it up. She said a little prayer as she strolled to her parents’ bedroom. She kept thinking about bleeding through her temporary fix and potentially embarrassing herself in front of her parents. She knocked on the door, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind.
What if she soiled her uniform in class?
How often does she have to check her pad?
Too soon to go the tampon route?
The door creaks open, and her father stands before her.
“Good morning, Dad. I need to see Mom.”
“Good morning, Sphe. Your mother left earlier than usual today to pick up your aunt at the bus station. She may only be back after we have both left this house.”
Blood rushed to her face, and panic took over. She shuffled her feet, not knowing what to say. The consensus was that boys or men should never know when a girl or a woman was on her period. It was sacred. So what was she to do in this moment when she needed help? She looked up at her father in search of answers in his eyes. Her father wore a concerned look because he could tell something was wrong.
“Sphe?”
“Uhhhhmmmm, Dad. I know it’s wrong, but I want you to know I am only saying this because of the circumstances and…”
“Sphesihle, my daughter, what is happening?”
“My period started,” she cried out, cupping her face in her hands in a bid to hide from the shame.
“Halala!”
She looked up to find her father dancing. The tears she was about to shed dried up, and she became confused. Who was this man, and what had he done with her father? He sang a song of praises as he headed into his bedroom, leaving her at the door. Sphesihle just stood there, scared to move for many reasons. Her father returned with two packets of pads, smiling from ear to ear.
“Sphe, back in the day, menstruation was labelled sacred to keep the creeps away. But the fathers always knew. The mothers would share the good news because it meant the fathers could now marry their daughters off. Menstruation was a sign of a girl becoming a woman. A transition, you might call it. It was a selling point to bargain bride prices because it meant one could bear children.
The community shamed the girls who never got their period. Their ‘worth’ lowered. Of course, it was a poor understanding of the biology of it all. Menstruation was considered purely spiritual, and so some believed that those girls were either witches or were bewitched.
Sphe, do not be ashamed that you have come to me with this news. One of these packs is for a heavy flow, and the other is for a lighter flow. Look, the labels are self-explanatory. I suggest you wear the thicker one today and carry at least two in your school bag. One more thing…”
He disappears into his bedroom again. Only to come back holding a box of painkillers.
“If it hurts, take one of these after your food. I will share the good news with your mother, and she will give you more tips later, alright?”
“Thank you, Dad,” she plunged in to hug him.
For a man of little words, he had stepped in there. He had made an awkward moment so much lighter. It warmed her heart. Maybe he isn’t all stone and impatience after all. She turned around to walk away slowly because she still didn’t trust her makeshift solution. The distance felt so much longer. When she finally closed the door behind her, she ran to her bathroom. The tissue paper had tried its best. She took it off, flushed it away, and jumped into the shower.
“I see red, RED!” rang in her head as she watched the water run with her blood in the shower.
“I wonder how much blood I lose per day. Could it possibly fill up a bottle? I would have to collect it in a dish or something. Eeeew! Or, here is a crazy idea, Sphe, Google it,” she laughed out loud.
Out she went, picking a black panty and a heavy flow pad. She stuck that baby on and pulled her panties up to hug her bums. She stood in front of the mirror to check how visible it was that she was wearing a pad.
“That doesn’t look too bad.”
She didn’t entirely trust that it would not show, so she chose to pair her school skirt with pantyhose. The pantyhose made her feel more secure and boosted her confidence.
Then she remembered that people talked about girls on periods smelling funky from time to time. She quickly picked up her deodorant and sprayed every inch of her body. She was not a big fan of blazers, but because hers was long enough to cover her bum, she wore it just in case something happened.
Finally feeling secure in her uniform, she decided it was safe enough to get some breakfast. She grabbed her bag and headed for the kitchen, where her father was cooking some eggs and waffles. He almost choked on her deodorant but didn’t comment because he understood what was happening. Things were back to normal. He said nothing at the table, and neither did she until she was done and leaving for school.
“Ooooh, I can’t wait to share the news with Ropa and Dr. T about my period. I wonder if boys will like me now. They always say they want women, not girls, and I guess that means girls who have gotten their period. Mandla Maseko has never looked my way, but if I get the gossip train going, he might ask me on a date.”
She turned the corner, and there was Ropa, waiting for her as always. Her walk turned into a jog out of excitement.
“Girl, I got it. I got my period.”
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!” they scream together.
“I need to feed this to the gossip girl when we get to school. It might reach Mandla, and he might FINALLY ask you out, Sphe.”
They did their celebratory dance and talked about boys the whole way to school. When the opportunity presented itself, Ropa fed the information to the gossip girl and by break time, everyone was talking about Siphesihle getting her period. After break time, she could feel that her pad was a lot wetter than before, so she grabbed her bag and went straight to the girl’s toilets. Off came her panties as she lowered herself onto the toilet seat, and yep, she was right! As she peed, she unstuck her pad, rolled it in tissue, and disposed of it.
She reached into her bag for a replacement, and she found NOTHING. The horror! She took everything out of her bag, hoping the pads had gotten stuck between her books, but there was nothing.
“No! No! No! God, this can not be happening! What do I do now? I am so stupid. Out of all the things to forget today, I forgot the pads. I have three more hours to go. There is no way I can hold up. I could go to the nurse’s office.”
She wiped herself off and headed to the nurse’s office. Sphe was so anxious she forgot to wash her hands.
“Hi, nurse Thabi. I need help with some pads. I forgot mine at home and only discovered it after taking mine off and disposing of it in the bathroom. I am so sorry for being an inconvenience to you. I need help,” she said, sobbing through her words.
“Girl, come here,” Nurse Thabi said, pulling her in for a hug. “You need to breathe. You are not an inconvenience to me. Helping you is my job, remember? And besides, it happens to the best of us. Even I forget sometimes and have to ask for help from strangers if there is no store nearby. Stop kicking yourself so hard. Now, let’s get you into a pad before disaster strikes.”
“Thank you, nurse Thabi.”
Nurse Thabi led her to a changing room, handed her a maxi pad and gave her a moment to change. When Sphe finished changing, nurse Thabi handed her two extra pads and a chocolate bar. She whispered a thank you to try and contain her emotions. She felt like she had failed herself. Sphe made her way to class and forgot she was still holding the pads.
She walked in, and the moment she did, all eyes were on her. She paid no mind to them until the whispers got loud and laughter erupted in the room. Ropa looked at her, pointing to her hand. She looked at her hand and was immediately horrified. She couldn’t decide between running away and digging her grave, so instead, she just stood there, hoping it would all be a dream. Her day was not going well at all.
Ropa got up, held her hand, and led her to their desk. She sat down, packed her pads away and stared at the blackboard. She wanted the day to end, and it did end. But by then, she had a nickname, Pad Carrier. PC for short. They say the more you fight a nickname, the more it sticks, but that was not her reason for not fighting.
When she got home, she headed straight to her bedroom, shut the door, and broke down. She had so much hatred for herself. She hated that she had earned that nickname all because she had chosen to be forgetful. She hated that in a day she had gone from being invisible in many people’s eyes to being the only person they could talk about.
“At least you did not spoil your uniform. You are better off being called PC than Dirty Red. Looking for the bright side in a dark tunnel—what a joke! What is wrong with me?”
Her mind was spiralling as she unpacked her school bag when a note fell out of one of her books. She picked it up and immediately recognised the handwriting.
‘Hi Sphe (I hope I can call you that).’
‘I am sorry about what happened to you today. I think it was immature of people to give you a nickname and laugh about it. It is ironic (that’s the word, right?) how they were praising the arrival of your period this very morning, only to shame you for having pads. It’s silly.
Don’t mind them.
Write back if you want.
Mandla.’
