ESTEEM THYSELF

CHAPTER TWO

My parents were pastors, my brother was a saint and I was just the rebellious child.They had named me Jezreel, which means, "God sows". Born on a bitter cold July evening, weighing 3.5kg, I was my mother's bundle of joy.

I was welcomed home with open arms and loved by all. My brother, Jordan was thrilled with the idea of having a baby sister at five and loved me with every ounce of his being. My dad cherished me there was no denying that. We had an unbreakable father-daughter bond based on mutual love and affection.

We lived on church property, in a beautiful three bedroomed apartment on 6000 square metre land, overlooking the church building in Belvedere, a low density surbub in Harare.

I was a bubbly child and developed into a chatterbox with time, very opinionated and I found fun in just about anything. I had crazy ideas and knew how to turn frowns upside down. I was pleasant whenever I wanted to but grumpy too whenever I chose to. I threw anger tantrums at times and always saw it as my due to be pampered.

My parents spoiled me rotten and I kept them on their toes just for the fun of it. Nannies came and went frequently, quitting their jobs because of me and my crazy self. It was unbelievable that I had pastors for parents.
"That girl is a handful," Dad always said to my mother,"I worry about her sometimes."

"She is only a child my dear, I'm sure she will grow out of it," momma always hoped for the best.

"I hope she does, the fire in her eyes needs some extinguishing," Dad mused

"I feel she has a great calling on her life but needs to be tamed," she said with a warm smile as she poured herself a cup of tea.

"Mommy the house is on fire, mommy, mommy..." I screamed on top of my voice.

"Jezreel!!" the parents chorused as they hurried to my aid.

I had set the carpeted floor in our lounge on fire with a log from the fireplace...unintentionally.

"What have you done child?" Dad fumed as he ran to get a bucket of water and momma pulled me in her arms pinching my ear.

"What is wrong with you Jez...are you mad?" she shouted as I burst in tears,

"Go to your room... go...go...go, get out of my sight," she shouted as Dad let out the fire.

The fire damaged a huge chunk of the carpet plus one side of my dad's favourite couch and one side of the wall had turned black.

That was my first of many crazy acts.

I was average built, with a shock of long black hair, bushy eyebrows but pretty enough to get heads turning my way as early as five. I was intelligent, no doubt about that, scooped my fair share of academic awards every now and then since Juniour school.

My teachers were impressed by my performance but found my character appalling. Never was there a day when I did not appear on the noise makers list and never was there a Friday I wasn't detained for my wrongs of the week.

In my infancy I was part of the percussion band and played the tambourine which I thoroughly enjoyed as well as swimming. My swimming coach however wasn't so crazy about me and he was one person I was somewhat afraid of.After every swimming lesson he'd pick a few of us to coach for the swimming team but he never picked me no matter how good I was which I found really annoying.

It was on one home time when all my friends were going for the famous swimming extra lessons when I decided to just show up too. I changed into my swimsuit like everyone else and sneaked into the pool when he was not looking only to accidentally slip to the dip end and fought to swim my way up to no avail.