Mawe: Yonke lento sekuyisikata sethu manje (All of this nonsense is now our burden)
Aunty 1: I still can't believe that uWinnie never got herself a life cover noma ke these cheap society schemes that you find in the hoods
Mawe: As always she wanted to be a burden. She was a burden while she was still alive even in death she's still a burden
Aunty 2: May I not be expected to contribute much this was sudden imali ayikho kahle (There's not enough money)
Mawe: Mina vele nje angina mali futhi kusazomele ngiqhubeke nginakekele lama rathane wakhe (I don't have money I still have to take care of those rubbish kids of hers)
Aunty 1: She will get a funeral that's fit for her. I will get a very cheap coffin
Aunty 2: I'll try to get transportation
Mawe: Mina sengizazama ama braai pack Impuphu maybe ne cabbage Nyana ukuthi abantu badle(I will try and get braai cuts Maize meal and a cabbage so people can eat)
Aunty 1: Usehlisile isithunzi salo mndeni (She has spat on the dignity of this family)
Aunty 2: Khona nje abantu bazosibhekela phantsi (People will take us for granted)
Mawe: Kudala wasehlisa isithunzi sethu (She has long made us a laughing stock)
Aunty 1: hai sizathini kodwa.. Uyigazi lethu (What can we say she's our blood)
Mawe: I don't know what evil I did for God to have punished me with such a child uWinnie was nothing but a curse to me!
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I was eavesdropping on my family speaking ill of my mother... My Grandmother "Mawe" as we refer to her has 3 daughters Or had 3 Daughters. The first born Thobile is a Nurse. Whilst the second born Thandeka is currently and has forever been unemployed. She was just fortunate enough to be married off to a well financial stable man who provides for her. Then there's my mother who has always been considered the biggest disappointment born into the Nkosi family. She was the last Daughter borne to my Grandmother and also earned herself the title of being called the "Black sheep" of the family. She dedicated most of her life to abusing alcohol and easily handing herself over to different Men so that they could pleasure themselves sexualy in exchange for money. See when the Tarven opened in the morning she was there drinking black label and smoking cigarettes. When the tarven closed later on she was still there and I would be very lucky if she ever made it home. We lived in a shack Just me Her and my little brother. We didn't live with her for that long though an unfortunate event later on had us moved from under her care to be placed in a more "stable" home..
The unfortunate event was me being sexualy abused by one her hook ups from when I was 8 years old up until the age of 9. When that happened I never had the courage to tell anyone about it.. My Aunt was the one who noticed that something was wrong when I had to spend a few days at her place for a traditional ceremony that was going to take place over the weekend. Approximately 3 nights straight I had wet the bed and she found that questionable for a child of my age to have such a habit. That's when she sat down with me and asked what was happening. As much as the timid me wanted to take that secret to the grave I found myself telling her what was happening at home since she was forcing the truth out of me with threats and upon hearing of the ordeal she had us moved in permanently with my Grandmother after involving social workers.. Dating back to my childhood and the years I spent in that shack I can honestly say that my Mother was not the best. For reasons known to her she was always angry and on several occasions I was her punching bag especially when she was drunk. She had a way with words too just let her have one bottle of beer and then hear her telling us how much she regretted having us. It was not a front because all those hurtful words she threw at us were accompanied by tears. Whatever it was that she was going through it certainly did cut deeper than any knife. She would constantly leave me to care for my little brother she would disappear for days at times never to bother checking up on us. When she came back she would make sure that she finds even the slightest mistake to use it against me so that she could beat me up senseless. I remember this other incident where she bashed me on the head repeatedly with a bucket because I had forgotten to pour out the water that I had used to bath my little brother with I swear that I felt my skull cracking and to this day I remember that incident as if like it was yesterday. That became the main reason why I never told her about the sexual abuse I remember that incident as if like it was yesterday. That became the main reason why I never told her about the sexual abuse I don't think she was going to believe me. She was going to say I made the whole thing up and then beat me after all those men that she changed frequently mattered to her more than we ever did. All because of the money and alcohol that they gave her in exchange for sex.. That man who sexualy abused me knew very well that my Mother wasn't always around he would come to our shack at least 4 times a week mostly after work and he would bring us something to eat just to get into my panties. He knew our situation and he took advantage of it. My Mom would leave us with no money and no food for days that situation had made my abuser tell me that the life of a girl child depends on what's between her legs. If I keep on opening my legs every man would buy me anything and everything that I desired. At a tender age of 8 I was forcefully exchanging sexual favours with this man just to put food on the table for me and my little brother I literally became a Parent to the both of us since my mother was failing us..
I remember the first time when it happened I was very scared he exerted all his weight on me that I couldn't even move and I also struggled to breath . All I did was to lie back on that old uncomfortable bed with springs poking me and looking at this man directly in the eye as he had his way with me... Sometimes it would happen with my Mother around but she would be too drunk and had passed out to even realize what was going on. My Brother would be asleep too and if it was happening during the day he was told to go outside and play with friends.. When he penetrated me for the first time the pain was unbearable that I even bled I couldn't even walk and he instructed me to wash the towel before my Mother saw the blood on it. When she did come back she never even asked questions she just took if as if like I had done laundry as always.. What was happening to me made me scared to even go outside and play with other kids at school I was very quiet and I'd often isolate myself during lunchtime. My confidence and self esteem was brutally murderered. It was almost as if like everyone could see through me it felt like everyone knew what was happening and they were judging me. That's how I felt everytime when I had to be out in public..
When we finally moved in with my Grandmother I thought life would be better and yes life was a bit better because there was no one who abused me sexualy but my Grandmother was just like my Mother if not worse. Day and night we were cursed we were reminded of how useless we were and she would literally tell us that if it wasn't for her we would be nothing but rubbish. She told us that we owed her our lives and if we hell dared and broke one of the rules she put out for us we would find ourselves homeless. Ironically we were saved from one abusive environment only to be placed into another abusive environment....
When I got outside I was met by a very disturbing scene my Brother was kneeling down and licking ice cream from the ground with Aunt Thandeka's kids laughing at him. I think one of them had dropped the ice cream on purpose to have my brother be an entertainment to them. These kids are no different from their Mother and my Grandmother. They have inherited that evil gene which was passed down from my Grandmother to their Mother and then to them. I call it a generational curse..
He got up and looked at me..
Me: Woza (Come)
He made his way to me and I wiped his lips with my hand that's when one of my cousins threw a sly comment and they laughed more.
Cousin: He is definitely a dog only a dog can eat from the ground
They continued laughing and I dragged him to the back of the house so I could have him rinse his mouth from the tap. Xolani is 8 years old and my cousins are older they should know better than to treat another human being like that... I pulled him a little by his already half torn t-shirt..
Me: Nawe why ubavumela bakwenze is'lima! (why do you allow them to treat you like a fool)
Him: Ngiyaxolisa Sandy kodwa bebathembise ukuthi bazong'thengela I ice cream uma ngidla le ebebayi lahle phantsi (I am sorry Sandy but they promised to buy me an ice cream should I lick the one that they had dropped on the ground)
Me: Akunandana (It doesn't matter anymore)
I am now 12 years old and I have already been through a lot to make me not wanna live anymore.. I hung my arm around his shoulders and we went back to sit at our usual spot of which was the grass next to our gate. That's where I gather stones and play around with them busy telling a story that might never even happen. My cousins were sitting at the stoep busy stealing glances at us and laughing they were entertained by their phones..
I looked at him..
Him: Ucabanga ukuthi nathi ngelinye ilanga uMama uzobuya asithathe bese uthola umsebenzi ukuze sizokwazi ukufana nabo Zanele? (Do you think that Mom will come back sometime and get a job so that she can provide for us and we'll end up being like our cousins)
I looked at my cousins and then looked at him..
Me: uMama angeke azabuye (Mom won't come back)
My mom's death was very tragic apparently her shack caught fire with her inside. I am sure that she was way too drunk to notice what was happening and unfortunately she burned down with the shack. I heard that when they got to her it was already late no one was able to save her no matter how hard they tried the flames were too much..
My Grandmother never approached the matter with caution she just blurted it out to us that our Mother is dead. She said my Mother's carelessness was the one responsible for her death she probably left the paraffin stove burning or a candle burning. No one really knows what started the fire.. I have seen what no child of my age should see I've experienced things that killed the little girl inside of me. At that age I was living but deep down I was already dead. Now I am 25 years of age Did my life finally take a different turn? Did I see a light at the end of the tunnel? Did a miracle come my way? Well we can only find out as my story continues.
I AM SANDY NKOSI AND THIS IS MY STORY
Your work is always perfect.
Precious your work is deep. I am obsessed, l am addicted. You make me shed tears of pains that l didnt know was buried deep in me. Your words heal me. I love you and your work
Moloi, have missed you and your work
Nice but painful
Kuzobamnandi njengenjwayelo... Siyabonga standwa
you are the best
You never disappoint Ms Moloi