Grade 12, Ikageng
I was a little girl when I experienced a hell of life, if I can say that, but what can I say? I was sitting in my room at night sleeping because that is what I like doing. I heard my parents shouting at each other. I took out my headsets and tried listening to them. I could not hear properly but when I realised that the fight was quite serious, I decided to go and check. I stood at the door and listened. I heard voices screaming louder now. Not knowing who is beating who, I just entered and my dad was on top of my mother hitting her so hard ’til she could not move. He then just left me lying next to my mom, not knowing what to do. But one neighbour, Mr Myalatya who is kind and loving, and loved helping the community, took my mom to the hospital.
A week later my mom came back and she was better. We thought my father would be better and leave alcohol but we were lying to ourselves. He just got worse. He would now drink alcohol week to week and he even got fired from work. At that time my mom was not working anymore because she could no longer hold heavy things for a long time. That’s when we experienced poverty. Sometimes we would sleep with empty stomachs. We had to move out, but there was no other place wecould go to.
The money my father could find- he would go to taverns to drink it and came back late, around 12 o’clock at night. He would make a noise and ask for food and if we did not give it to him, he would start with me and then my mother. He went on and on with this behaviour. I started losing concentration at school. I could not cope sometimes. I would think about it until I felt drops of tears falling down from my eyes. I suffered from depression for months and thought of quitting school. I could not even study at home because he would play the radio all night, long.
I found a piece job for me and my mother so we could sleep with full stomachs. Every day after school, I had to go work and wash everyone’s shoes and sneakers for R50 per pair. I became the breadwinner. My dad would sometimes take that money and go drink it. I remember this one evening he came back very drunk, shouting from far away. A knock on the door- it was him.“Londeka, you fool. Come and open this door.” I opened the door and he klapped me, “I have been waiting at the door and you are busy with boys in my house.” I answered, “That’s not true.” A klap again. I started crying. My mom came and tried to stop him, “Why are you hitting my daughter?” He responded, “You want me to hit you? Come. You’ll see.” He just pulled my mom’s hand and started hitting her so hard and even stabbed her with a knife. I screamed loudly and again I was helped by Mr Myalatya. He and his wife took my mom to the hospital. She stayed there for weeks.
By the time she was discharged, I was writing exams for finals. I had to work, take care of Mom, clean her up and study. I could not study – my dad was making a noise again – so I would come back from school, go to work and back at night, clean my mom, take her to bed and then go to sleep because I was tired.
I finished my exams and I took my mom back to KwaZulu-Natal. She could no longer walk. She was in a wheelchair. We left Dad with his house. In Ladysmith life was quite hard- no electricity.We had to cook with fire. I was not used to that life and I did not even know how to start the fire. Every morning me and my two cousins, Sbahle and Mbali, had to go to the forest for firewood and water. I was now doing Matric. Schools were far away. By five o’clock in the morning I had to be on my way to school, so by two o’clock in the morning I would prepare porridge for my mom before going to school. I got used to that life.
I became a mother to my mom and a breadwinner for my family because we were not rich. I studied hard. I wanted to make my mom so happy. I didn’t care about my father anymore. He passed away because of alcohol. He was killed at one of the taverns he loved going to. I wanted to forgive him but it was hard, but my mom forgave him long ago. We even went to his funeral. His house wa taken by his other wife that my mom did not know of. The year went by and I wrote my prelims and my final exams. It was January 2020 when I was waiting for my results. I went to buy the paper. I left my mom at home. She was sick but not that much. I was worried about her, but because my mom loved me, she would always pretend that she was in a good condition but I always knew she was pretending, not wanting me to be sad or distracted at school.
So I came back that evening. I was tired and I found my mom had already cooked. I didn’t eat that night. I had a very sentimental moment with her. We slept late and when I woke up, she was not awake yet and she usually woke up first and early.
I went to check on her. I called out to her, standing by the bedroom door but there was no response. When I touched her, she was cold. Her eyes opened but she was not speaking anymore. I felt deep pain, unexplainable pain. I couldn’t speak. I was just crying. What I remember about my mom’s last days, she said, “Never ever let your situation define you and make you feel small. Don’t let small, stupid things ruin you or your day. My daughter, you are what you think you are. You are special of your own kind. Make sure you pursue your dreams and learn to love others no matter what distance or problems there are. Just stay close and remember that your mom will always love you.” I just felt tears and I said, “I love you, Mom.”