Hoe Tales

Birth of a Yamhead

By the time I was 15, Daddy had started a new family, Marcia was a single mother and two of my brothers had moved to Kingston. Mummy never had another relationship, at least not that I knew of and that was fine with me. I had grown to hate men. I wasn't jealous when my friends talked about their boyfriend's and what they did or what they got. I knew that just like me, just like Marcia and Mummy, they would only get hurt in the long run. Sure it sweet them in the moment, but you know what they say about nanny goat. It was only a matter of time.

I wasn't bright in school, I could read, do a little math and so on, even so, I was determined to do better than Mummy and Marcia. After all the stories I heard and even going to Coronation with Mummy and Marcia every now and then, I knew it wasn't for me. I didn't have any big dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer but I thought maybe I could do something like chef work or something else in hospitality. That was my main focus at the time. I wasn't preoccupied with 'man' like a lot of the girls I knew. Truth be told, by 15/16 most of them had already committed to being live in girlfriends to the community men and some of them were even pregnant or had children already. For many of them nothing was waiting after high school so I understand why they thought better would come from being with big men that were already established and had jobs and houses for themselves.

Just because I wasn't interested didn't mean men didn't try. My community was full of what they call 'waste man' nowadays. The same ones weh siddung pan the corner everyday a rub out dem hand miggle. The ones weh have nothing to offer a grown woman so they prey on the young girls in uniforms. You know them, we all know them. Because of this, every girl was accustomed to the "pssst!" you hear when walking. Depending on your reaction "yuh nice eeeh!" Or "gweeh gyal! Yuh think yuh look good!" would follow. I always did my best to avoid them even if it meant the caller got upset and said something embarrassing. I wasn't afraid to say something back, back then and even now, my mouth neva join church. Ironically it was this same 'psst' thing that I always avoided that lead me to finding my first love.

In that time it was normal to walk several miles to and from school, we hardly had lunch money most days, much less money fi tek taxi or bus. I know that this is still a reality for many children. It was normal in my time and it was fun. I had a group of three friends and we would all walk together but only one of them lived in West Retreat. Me and the friend that lived in West Retreat were finishing our walk home one afternoon when things began. She was and is still one of those really pretty girls that always attracted attention. There wasn't a man that didn't want Shamoya, so it was no surprise that we heard a "pssst" from across the street. I knew that it was intended for her and I was sure it was one of the regular guys that sat on the corner. Just like me she always ignored them. I didn't know what it was at the time, most people said Shamoya acted like she was better than people but I grew to learn that Shamoya had self-esteem.

The same thing happened on the next two evenings, we would get to a certain spot and hear the 'psst' and again we would ignore it. Shamoya was too good for a wutlis roadside man. On the fourth evening I was walking home alone because Shamoya had missed school. I didn't expect to hear anything, everyone knew me and knew I wasn't interested in anybody, furthermore I wasn't particularly pretty like Sham. As I got to the same spot, a bar that sold weed, grabba and rum for cheap, the man started. From the corner of my eye I could see someone running over but I didn't even slow down, I just walked on.

"Yuh nuh hear man a call yuh!" The voice was deep and hoarse, he sounded like someone who smoked way too much.

I kept walking.

"Yuh deaf?"

"Sir move from behind me please and thank you!" I was determined to go about my business. I didn't care who he was or what he wanted.