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I learned not to blame myself or anyone else for it.
I only choose not to tell my parents because of the risk that they will blame themselves.
All I know is that it was part of a thrilling routine.
After school, I would go over to their house and we’d play our version of house.
We never had to walk very far to find new or old ones in bushes or along passages.
We would return to the house with our finds and then we filled them with water or blew them up to use them as props.
Although we were never stopped, we were eventually caught.
Blame the desensitization but I don’t remember it being particularly explicit. These two people on the television were doing what grown-ups do to make babies. Previously, I had believed that children came from the hospital but this new version of the story fit better with the stories I heard in the playground. Instinctively, I knew not to tell anyone else what I had seen.There was something in the way the other girls acted that told me that this was a secret.My neighbours and I played all the games that children in the townships play.We would build pretend-rooms outside using scrap wood or bricks from the yard. The two youngest girls (including myself) would always be appointed to play the mother and father.Before the game began, we’d all walk around the street to find condoms which for some reason, was an incredibly easy task.