Grade 9, Thlokomelo Child Care Centre
“Lethabo, let’s go. Mom is waiting for us,” my younger sister, Kultlwano said and we rushed to Mom’s car. Mom being her usual self was bubbly and talked throughout the drive. My father owns a restaurant in town, making my mother a stay-at-home mom. Mom is always willing to do everything which is unfair. When Dad came in, we ate and we tuned into the news as always by 20h00. We heard the President address the country about the new virus that’s killing people and the shutdown of schools, libraries and restaurants. That meant Father’s business would be affected by this.
Weeks passed and the lockdown had not changed. Dad was always home shouting for small things like dropping a spoon. This whole thing frustrated Dad and we started getting annoyed by his presence. Our meals had changed from cereals for breakfast; bread with lettuce and tomato for lunch; pasta and meatballs for supper to porridge the whole day. Mom’s personality had changed from being bubbly to sad. My parents often had little arguments which were starting to become the norm.
I remember one night when I heard soft voices that sounded like an argument. I overheard my parents arguing about bills and Dad was banging the table. I ran to my room playing the“Mama, it’s better because the next time you leave this house you will be in a body bag,” I said in a demanding tone. “Nana, you won’t understand,” Mama said. “How can I understand? You would rather stay with beatings and him calling you names?” I kept quiet and looked at her. She was sobbing, “Yes, Nana. He will come around. This is also love.” conversation in my head over and over again.
The following day we all did our daily chores and my parents were not on speaking terms. They tried to act normal even though I saw they were not speaking. We were done with everything. We were eating lunch- porridge. “So, I was thinking…” Mom said, and all eyes were on her, “Uhm… Since we don’t have enough money, I was thinking of looking for a job until we get back on our feet.” There was a moment of silence for a long time then Dad broke the silence. “So you think you are the man and I’m the woman, huh? Who said I can’t provide?” he said in a bold and demanding tone. Kutlwano was shocked and startled by Dad’s voice. He did argue with mom but he never raised his voice. “No… but we,” Mom said in a pleading tone. Mom was scared then Dad interrupted her. “But nothing… I asked who wears the pants between us? You saw that this useless husband of yours can’t provide,” he said in an angrier tone. Dad slapped mom on her left cheek and she already had teary eyes. “What are you doing in front of the kids? How do you want them to see you?” Mom asked Dad. Kutlwano was already crying and Dad was fuming with anger. “No wife of mine will look for a job. What will people say? They will think I can’t provide. I am the provider, not the other way around.” That was when I lost respect for him. How could he humiliate Mom? “Papa, why are you shouting at mom?” Kutlwano asked innocently.
That was the start of a new chapter in my life. Dad always came home late and drunk. He drank traditional beer that was sold illegally and he smelt of cigarettes. He didn’t even care about a mask or if he was infected. Mom slept late waiting for him to return. One day he came back and mom was still up. “Why are you drunk? Sipho, you smell like alcohol. You cannot even stand on your own,” Mom said. That was why I hated these thin walls. I could hear each and every thing they talked about. After that I heard a loud bang on the wall and Mom crying. I rushed to their room and Mom was by the bed, then Dad rushed out.
I went to her quickly, “Mama,” I said with teary eyes. “Lethabo, go and sleep. It’s nothing Mama can’t fix, okay?” she said wiping her tears from her bruised eyes. “No, mama. You want Dad to always shout and beat you all the time. Let’s tell the police and go to Grandma’s house,” I said, already packing her clothes. “No, Mam will talk a lot. Please bear with him,” she pleaded. “Mama, it’s better because the next time you leave this house you will be in a body bag,” I said in a demanding tone. “Nana, you won’t understand,” Mama said. “How can I understand? You would rather stay with beatings and him calling you names?” I kept quiet and looked at her. She was sobbing, “Yes, Nana. He will come around. This is also love.”