Growing up, I was the type of kid that my community in Tanzania described as an “accident.” I had no friends, I had a spot where I was always found in the community. I wore saggy boys’ jeans and huge t-shirts. I was only nine. In school, after recess hour, I would ditch class and go to the farm all alone in the bright hot equatorial sun. I did not only go to the farm because I wanted to skip my class but also because I got so hungry at school and I wanted something to eat. I would look up at the sun, and once the sun had passed my noon point, I knew it was time to start heading home. My parent never suspected that I was always skipping my class after recess until a woman walked up to my father, “How can you claim that you’re a pastor, leading and preaching to the whole congregation what you do not live yourself?”

My father, puzzled, responded, “ And what do you mean by that?” “How can you let your daughter run this village like she owns and yet you say ‘train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.’ Your daughter, is disrespectful, rude, unkind and she fights anyone she thinks does her wrong no matter the size or age. She does not attend school regularly and she has no friends at all, all because of her troubles.” Being a pastor’s daughter and behaving the way I behaved was somehow a “taboo” to my people and that made me a “accidental” child. I didn’t care what anyone had to say about my behavior, this is who I was or chose to be. But all this started changing after the death of my father.
My father died from food poisoning in 2005 when I was ten years old. A few years after his death, my family moved to the United States and landed in Atlanta, GA on Jan 17,2008. In August, I started 7th grade. I was a complete outsider. My English was broken and nobody wanted to be around somebody that could not speak their language. I knew somehow that I was unlike my classmates, so I excluded myself and made it known that I did not want to be anyone's friend. I already resented school and my classmates for not making much of an effort to acknowledge me.
One day, during my freshmen year, after school on my way to soccer practice, I overheard a few of my classmates rudely talking about immigrants. I said to myself, “Do not interfere, it’s none of your business.” But I hated it when the American-born children would talk badly of immigrants. “The Asian girl in our class stinks,” one of them said. “ And the African one walks down these walls as if she owns it wit’ her lil sis.” As one of them looked up, we came eye to eye, my face looked angry and I could see from her look that she noticed the expression on my face.
The next day was Friday. I had a test in my math class so I was having a pretty stressful day. During lunch break, I was in line waiting for my turn so I could get my food. The person in front of me was an African-American girl, she turned to look like at me and the other girls I was standing with. She was the same girl that I overheard the day before and once again started talking about immigrants especially the African immigrants. Since I was already in a bad mood, my temper just rose. I swung around and roundhouse-kicked her in the gut. She sputtered out a curse laced with blood and crumpled to the ground. I was so angry that I didn’t realize what I had done.
The next thing I knew, I was in the principal’s office. “You could get expelled for this kind of behavior,” said the principal. I sat there and wondered why I did what I did and realized that it was the anger I had built over the years. After I was given the chance to continue at my high school, I decided to change for the better. Now I was eager for success. My old ways had passed and new things had begun. My mother was surprised by how much I had changed. I graduated from high school with honors and two scholarships. Having a very Godly family, I started to also follow their ways and started to sing in my church’s youth choir.
In March of 2014, two of my friends from church had their engagement party. A few other friends and I planned it. We invited friends from different states. After the party, family and close friends stayed to clean up the venue. We finished cleaning and I walked to my car. As I was walking to my car, I heard a guy’s voice calling my name, “Tulia, subiri (wait) .” I recognized the voice, it was of a guy who’d been endlessly calling my number from Sioux falls, SD. He liked me very much and wanted a relationship with me even though I told him times without number that I was in a relationship with someone else. I waited for him. “I need a ride to my uncle’s house,” he said. “Hop in,” I told him.
I got in the car, turned it on, and started driving. As I got to the stop light at Merle Hay Street and Hickman, he slowly started rubbing my arm. I did not hesitate. I pulled over, “What are you doing?” I asked him. “I have told you that I love you so many times but you don't want to give me a chance.” With that, he pulled me closer to him and roughly started kissing me. I tried to pull away, but he used force to keep me down. “No.” I motionlessly shouted, “Help, help, help…” I screamed out loud. He dug his hips into mine, slammed my head against the car door when I tried to fight him. He aggressively ripped my clothes off and robbed me of my virginity, my dignity, my womanhood, my innocence, and degraded my value.I didn’t even call the cops. I was scared, ashamed, and hurt. I blamed myself for being friendly to someone I barely knew.
Why would this happen? I was a mean and rude girl who turned myself around to look for a better life. I felt like this incident was a temptation to go back to my former ways. I refused to let this incident stand in the way of my success. I’ve realized things will happen in life that you don’t plan or expect, but I have to keep living my life.When I pray, God hears more than I say, He answers more than I ask, He gives more than I image, but in His own time, and His own way. I have learned to keep my faith and keep believing. Keep believing that no matter what awful things happen to me, I can be rise up.