“Gad kijan’l led! Look at how ugly she is!” My aunt grimaced as she examined my frail tattered body. I must have been no more than 4 or 5 months old. My parents had recently moved back home to Haiti and my body was not having it. I had a severe allergic reaction to mosquitos and had been in and out of the hospital for months. Tattooed with scars from these vicious little critters had made my body their home. And to make matters worse I was not gaining any weight. My mother resorted to feeding me butter in attempts of fattening me up but nothing seemed to work. The flies, which would rest at no avail had succeeded in holding me captive. The months would come and go in wait of a miracle.
“Gen le li kata? Maybe she is disabled?” The servants would whisper in audible tones. I must have been over 18 months before I took my first steps. As the event which proceeded “ Premye rale a, the day I crawled” was marked as probably the most festive celebration I have ever had in my name. I am troubled that my memory can’t seem to recall it as goats were slaughtered and champagne poured in abundance.Till this day attendees still revel in reminiscence.
My speckled body felt alien. As the years went by, I became an observer mimicking the confused stares which followed me around. I could still hear their hushed disgust. Everyone else didn’t seem to be bothered by these incessant pests. Their silky smooth skin hadn’t been tattered with scabs. Why me? . Bare and exposed I yearned for a cure.
So I attempted everything. I would cover myself from head to toe. Spray every inch of my frame with Shelltox, a poisonous aerosol insecticide. And even throughout the hot summer months, despite the stickiness and humidity, as I‘d lay to rest, my thick cotton sheets continued to serve as protection. I never wore black and even attempted to rub off my dark black skin. My grandmother had taught me that these flies were attracted to this color, so I avoided it at every cost. But while all battles could not be won; as the years would go by I slowly grew to learn their ways.
by Chrivi
“Gen le li kata? Maybe she is disabled?” The servants would whisper in audible tones. I must have been over 18 months before I took my first steps. As the event which proceeded “ Premye rale a, the day I crawled” was marked as probably the most festive celebration I have ever had in my name. I am troubled that my memory can’t seem to recall it as goats were slaughtered and champagne poured in abundance.Till this day attendees still revel in reminiscence.
My speckled body felt alien. As the years went by, I became an observer mimicking the confused stares which followed me around. I could still hear their hushed disgust. Everyone else didn’t seem to be bothered by these incessant pests. Their silky smooth skin hadn’t been tattered with scabs. Why me? . Bare and exposed I yearned for a cure.
So I attempted everything. I would cover myself from head to toe. Spray every inch of my frame with Shelltox, a poisonous aerosol insecticide. And even throughout the hot summer months, despite the stickiness and humidity, as I‘d lay to rest, my thick cotton sheets continued to serve as protection. I never wore black and even attempted to rub off my dark black skin. My grandmother had taught me that these flies were attracted to this color, so I avoided it at every cost. But while all battles could not be won; as the years would go by I slowly grew to learn their ways.
by Chrivi
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