This is my story, a personal inspiration, don’t judge me for it isn’t my fault, neither is it the fault of my parents but the fault of nature. The commands of nature dictated, “Let there be love and there I appeared.” My name is Stellamaris, the sea star. My one and only, best of them all! My ex friend, my baby, called me Marisa and the rest started from there, Marisa is the name my dear ones call me. I was born out of love, truly beautifully made; my Ankole hips, just don’t lie, my ass represents the rolling mountains of the pearl of Africa, my smooth skin, ever playful young glow of my face, the refreshing taste of my lips; nature just spent a little more creating me! You know, on the scale of 10, I definitely score 11, this kind of beauty can only mean I was born out of pure love. The love that included music; likes of Donny Williams and Kenny Rogers, scented candles, outside, there was an easy breeze, not raining, not shinning. It was a leap year with 54 holidays; all countries were at peace with each other. The word watering mouth of Andrew Mwenda and Tamale Mirundi was shut that day. Considering, my mother, I call her my old girl, was just 27.
I am a staunch Catholic, my mother grew up as a girl of faith, I am certain she lost her virginity to my father on the day nature gave way to my presence. Faith is my mother’s third name. To be sincere, my mother joined the convent while still a young girl of 14. She was groomed to be the next Virgin Mary! I already said it, I am a sea star and my mother gave up her calling at the age of 25, she needed to produce the glowing star, here I am! You know opportunities come once in a blue moon and I am therefore the only child my mother has! My mother thought way too hard before she conceived. The man she needed to get a child with, let me put it plain clear, she never wanted MARRIAGE, she wanted a CHILD. I was therefore, not born out of pleasure nor am I an accident but a planned for child and a star. I would therefore rather die, than disappoint my mother. I don’t respect my mother, I honor her. My mother planned to raise me singly without my father. Despite my father’s efforts to have my mother’s hand in marriage, my mother kept contented with the star she had got, she turned down my dad’s proposals, until the man who fathered me passed away, barely before I could spell his name, I can’t stop the tears, REST IN PEACE DADDY. I LOVE YOU.
The journey started then, my mother didn’t have a lot but enough and I grew up with all the basic needs and a few but meaningful luxuries. I was therefore not spoilt but simply pampered a little. I love my childhood memories, no worries of sharing bread, I had it all to myself, I actually breast fed for 6 years! Everything I asked for and was in mother’s reach was joyfully given to me. I never wished for a thing not any, to me I grew up like a princess. Without my father I said, singly by my mother, truth be told, I have never seen the importance of a man in my life. Sorry, I threw at you just like your nose, queer as it sounds but it is a reality.
My mother and I are like twins, allow me say this, she nowadays looks younger than me!! Having finished school, she and I are at maximum peace, no worries of back to school shopping and bad school performance. We share the burden of unending utility bills, meanwhile we continuously share joyful moments. At 25 years of age, in an African setting, marriage is ringing its bells. Unfortunately, I don’t know what to do with a man. I have not lived with a man in my life, I don’t figure out what I need to do or be in order to be a good wife and mother! How I wish that was part of my curriculum at college!
I however feel women are delicate creatures; they need extra attention, a cushion to hold them when in life twists. To me women are like un born babies. You can only make them smile if you learn to treat them carefully just like your eyes. Do you then remember that I called her my baby? I am perfect at handling women, I just spoil them with happiness and it just gets addictive, imagine, it’s natural to me.
I grew up not doing house chores the girls of age were doing, rather splitting firewood, fetching water, looking after cows and tethering goats. You know, I am gentle with my old girl; I only let her do activities that won’t strain her back. For sure, I am the poorest cook Uganda has ever had!
Coupling my feelings about women with marriage, you definitely can tell, the kind of marriage, I am opting for! They call it anti nature! Having been beautifully born out of nature, it shouldn’t be I to disappoint nature. I already asked you, not to blame my parents. Don’t blame me either, for I am torn between following nature, my ancestor and my feelings (what defines who I am). It is not logical for me, to love nature much more than myself. I therefore love and respect my feelings. Have I then successfully let you understand that I am gay! Not by choice, not by nature but naturally!
My mother doesn’t know about this! I am however, throwing it to everyone, who cares to know about it that I am “bent” (not straight). I am tired of confessing to the priest every 22nd of the month, fasting, and reciting novenas, so don’t remind me of God here. If I deserve to die, how about my parents? Before killing me, kill nature that gave birth to me! My dearest old girl, I won’t burry your breasts, I will marry when you marry my father. I will give you grand children when you mother me a sibling.
I don’t know how it feels to have a sister or a brother, I can’t tell the taste of a father’s love, that’s why you can’t understand why I love women and I feel the way I feel.
I am proud of myself; my mother’s only thing in the world, my father’s original copy, the true star of the sea, I am proudly gay!! But how do I tell my mother about this??
Photo Credit: “Coming Out Day” Logo