₦airaland Forum

Interesting.

Obinnau: sort of.

lol ok, won't go again without letting you know

Obinnau: I don't mean now. I meant since your absence.

been a lil busy, missed me

Obinnau: hbg where arth thou

m here

priceless love: hmmmmmm what can i say, u are d best. More ink to ur pen.

thanks dear.

⌣»̶·̵̭̌·̵̭̌✽̤̥̈̊☀̤̈̇CHAPTER13☀̤̈̇✽̤̥̈̊·̵̭̌·̵̭̌«̶~

My flat shoe soles crushed the dry grass over growing on the graveyard inbetween graves, everything here was dead. The silence was taunting, I have had heard several times that the dead hated to be disturbed or they would haunt you for the rest of your life, which my Grandma had said its not true.

I have heard gory stories though, not that I didn't believe Grandma but just incase they were being disturbed, I prayed silently like Daniel in that dark pit filled with lions, it was like casting out demons at their own place. I had to say goodbye my grandmother. She was a wonderful mother with lots of practice, unlike my own mother I called her my best friend. Granny was a devoted Dutch Reformed Church but send us to the Anglican schools, that's where I learned stories, fairytales about ghosts and the supernatural. Gradma tried her best to teach us the word of God but I guess I relented and stopped going to church after high school.

I knew she wasn't there, that's what the bible said, the dust has gone back to where it came from, so was the soil and the ashes, just needed to feel her presence once more.

My palms were sweaty and sticky, my little sister had been holding my hands for dear life since we arrived at the graveyard about an hour ago, it was only two of us left now, we had to hide under the bushes until those who had come to say goodbye to Grandma had dispersed.

We had to endure insults since my grandmother kissed the dust, were never excluded in the programme, we were merely invalids. To make matters worse my uncle, the family spokesperson ordered us not to throw stones on our grandmother's grave, with an excuse that we would upset the ancestors as we were not the Phakisi's children. We were from the unknown, our mother never bothered to let her family know who our father was. Father too never manned up and come to meet mother's family so we had to suffer for our parents irresponsibilities.

Mother left after Botle was born going back to Egoli to live with her man, the father of her children. I only saw her for two weeks, I was five then and didn't know that she was my mother, Grandma told me years later that she was my birth mother.

Granny Agnes Phakisi took care of me; T'soarelo and my sister Botle from the day we were both born, we knew no other parent than our grandmother as our mother was never around, she would come home when it was time to put to bed and would leave before the cord dried up, so Grandmother said.

Granny Agnes had four other children, all of them sons, the only female child was our mother. These uncles had all moved away from home, raising all their children with negative mentality towards me and Botle. They never invited us to family gatherings and had vowed never to send money to their mother unless she took the us to our father's house. But the old lady loved us as if she gave birth to us, she catered for our needs with the compensation money from the mines in South Africa after her husband died inline of duty in Gauteng.

Now the strong woman had to buy the farm and was pushing up the daisies already leaving the two of us all alone in the harsh world.

“We don't have a home from today onwards Lelo.” Botle said creating Grandma's name with the scattered stones ontop of the grave.

“We do, don't worry.” I said swallowing fresh hot tears, I couldn't cry infront of my little sister. At seventeen she was still a kid to me, I have always shielded her from the bad guys when grandmother was not around, I had to be strong for us, though I knew deep in my heart that by the law; if Grandma left no will, my uncles were entitled to everything that Grandma had left behind, us included.

I would rather be a begger than live under the same roof with any of my devious cousins, they spit vernom agaisnt me and Botle and had so often made it clear that we were not welcome in our own home.

Grandma loved children whose desire in life was to be educated and we were just what she prayed for, we were intelligent and used every opportunity given to us to study, always topping our classes. I did understand why my cousins hated us though. Grandma treated us like her own kids, she had reasoned that her reason for loving us so was because all our cousins were getting parental love from both mother and father so she was closing the gap of a father in our lives by going an extra mile for us.

“What if they do throw us out?” Botle sniffed, still busy with her task.

“You worry too much Botle, we are family. They won't do that.”

“We were singled out from the family right here, telling us we are not the 'Phakisi' daughters.”

“But we are.” I said soothingly. I got up from my squarting position and adjusting my black high waist skirt.

I am tall, lean and curvy, have a flat stamach and molehill bossoms. The flat chest runs in my mother's family genes. I keep an afro, I have never in my life cut nor relaxed my hair. Grandma believed not cutting our hair had something to do with our destiny. Sometimes I pleat it straight back.

I have fair skin, I fall under the coloured people category though my hair is coarse and doesn't grow rapidly like that of coloureds. My grandmother was a descendant of the Khoisan who lived in the Cape of Good Hope in the Eastern Cape in South africa where she met my grandfather who was a black Dutch slave who was shipped from the otherside of the continent. That's where I got the fairness from.

People say I am a cheerful lady, who likes helping other people solve their problems because it makes me happy, a Philanthropist. My grandmother liked this verse extracted from the book of acts chapter 20 verse 35;

“I have exhibited to YOU in all things that by thus laboring YOU must assist those who are weak, and must bear in mind the words of the Lord Jesus, when he himself said, ‘There is more happiness in giving than there is in receiving.”

My little sister Botle and I are like peas from the same pot. Our only difference is that Botle very chocolatey dark in complexion with curly soft hair and shorter than me. She is an introvert while I am a sociable person, I am that type of a person who would make a conversation with a stranger on a queue at the supermarket and wouldn't forget the person. Botle was more reserved, the quite child, Grandma's fairy princess.

“We better start going Botle.” I held out my hand to Botle who took it reluctantly. We walked out of the graveyard in silence, both preparing for the worst.

*********************

The corrugated brick layed four roomed house was filled with people going in and out of the house. The house which, according to me was a haven, a place where I came to from long hard days of studying in Pretoria. Had turned into a mad house within few days, after Grandma died. She died in her sleep, she wasn't sick and still strong, she walked perfectly at Sixty and did everything for herself.

She was a hard worker who would chase us from her kitchen if we try to help her cook with her long wooden spoon to our bedroom to study. The only time she allowed us to do anything in her house was during festive seasons, there she taught us how to be pros in the kitchen, courtessy of the early Dutch famers she worked for as a cook and housekeeper.

Her house was always shiny, her clothes were always neatly pressed straight from the washing line. But the mess In the main bedroom which was her room, made me gringe. The elders of the family sat in two's, husband and wife. Granny Agnes's clothes had been already divided into their categories, shoes on one side, skirts on one side, blouses on one side, gawns on one side and jackets, blankets hats and valuable items were also put accordingly.

My head throbbed as my grandmother's clothes were shared by an old lady who never smiled with anyone and wore a frown on her face like my former dometry keeper who woke us up at 5am every morning with a scary scowl like she carried all the sins we had committed.

“Granny said all her jewellery should be given to Botle if anything happens to her.” I announced as the jewellery box was placed in the hands of the mean lady.

“She is lying, she wants to sell them, just like her mother used to steal my jewellery and sell it.” My aunt, the wife of my eldest uncle spoke up. “Its only fair that I keep it, it will be compensation for my stolen gems.” She added boldly, she was the feared madam of the Phakisi family. Her word was final, to her we were just like our mother, she had never gave us the benefit of the doubt.

“All in favour of Mmakhathatso keeping jewellery please raise your hands.” The jury aka the slayer, the mean lady said a devilish smile formed. I sighed heavily, the hawk lady looked a lot better when she smilled, the ages seemed to diminish. Three hands were raised, it was the three devil sisters; my eldest uncle daughters, all in favour of their mother keeping the jewellery box. Granny Agnes once told me that her jewellery box had gems that were worth a fortune. They were collected from wrecked ships in the Eastern Cape from ships that travelled from Europe, America, Russia and Australia.

“Hhhmm,” Granny Shoani, granny Agne's friend cleared her throat. She was a lovely lady with an angelic smile. Her eyes always gleamed with energy, as she got up from where she was, her feet making a shuffling noise across the room. Her tired weary face could tell a story of the bad and good she had seen in her life.

“Motlalentoa, I will not sit back and watch you turn Aggie's house into a mad house. I have been quite far too long, I thought you would come to your senses and do right by these poor kids, they are your sister's children for crying out loud.”

Uncle Motlalentoa murmured something I couldn't understand to his wife, she got up addressing the accuser.

“Hela mosalimoholo, look here. You are not part of this family so stick your nose to where it belongs, if it wasn't out of the respect I have for 'M'e I would have thrown you out by now.”

“Ngoananyana, this house belongs to the late Phakisi and his wife, whomever they left in it will throw me out!

“I will not stand here and be insulted by an old hag like you, Ntate?” Mmakhathatso looked at her husband, pleading with him to interfere but he shook his head disapprovingly. I couldn't help but gag at my uncle. He was always his wife's cheerleader, first on command.

“I cannot believe your just going to sit here and watch her insult me.” Auntie snapped at him.

“Mmakhathatso! Stop it now.” Uncle Motlalentoa cautioned his wife, pulling her down by the shawl wrapped about her waist.

“Now, to everyone in this room today, this house and everything in it belongs to Botle and T'soarelo. Only the clothes, shoes and other items will be given away. If you know you have contributed a cent in anything in this house, please collect it now and pack it before you leave because I promised Agnes her house will always remain as she left it as long as I am still breathing.” Granny Shoani said with confidence, the other family members took what was fairly given to them and made to leave.

My dearest aunt Mmakhathatso and her daughters hung around till Sunday afternoon, helping us and some of Grandma's friends from church and women from our village clean up. Only to find out she had cleared the cupboards, taking everything edible, uncooked and cooked food with them. To top it all up, she had collected even the washing powders, soap bars and liquid soaps. I knew it was her because she did the same thing when Grandpa died, I wasn't born yet but Grandma told me everything that I had to know about my dear aunt.

“Your aunt is so greedy, she took everything?” Botle asked.

“Do you still have to ask?” I asked, allowing tears to fall down my face. I couldn't keep them in check, my sister had to know that I am human too. “Only if mom was here, I hate her for leaving us like that.”

“Oh Lelo,” Botle wiped away my tears with the palm of her hand. “Let it go, you don't even know her, all you have are her pictures. To me she died the day she left me in this house, life goes on.”

“But if she comes back would you forgive her?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Me too, I believe that one day, she will remember this house and will come for us.”

“I didn't know that you have a lantern of faith in you. I only have a flicker.”

“Hmmm, I pray she comes back with the sperm donar, I would like to see him.”

“If you were not my elder sister, I would have called you silly but I know better.” Botle said going to the dinning room.

I laughed relieved, atleast my sister doesn't hold any grudge against our birth mother. I walked up to the kitchen window, dark pregnant clouds hanging low in the sky. Lightening wriggling and writhing with the pain of its existence, it flashed once, glossy and polished, like the cold, gold prongs of the Apocalypse, then heavy showers followed.

“Botle, hide the mirrors o!” I shouted from the kitchen.

Botle let out a mockery laugh. “Haibo, my goodness, I thought we just buried Grandma?”

“Yes you did but I run the house now.”

“Yeah? I think we should ask ausi 'Mapaballo to come and stay here, she is like family you know.”

“Yes, I will talk to her this evening.”

Ausi 'MaPaballo is a daughter of a late friend of Grandma, who returned from an abusive marriage and is living on thorns at her own home because of her sisters-in-laws who doesn't treat her well eventhough she is the one taking care of them financially, while their husbands are having a good time in the mines sending nothing home. Her and Grandma were always together in the afternoon as she looked after ausi 'Mapaballo's two children when their mother was at work.

“Atleast I won't be alone when I come home for the holidays from school.” Botle said excited, the two got along just fine.

“Yea, I have to start packing, I want to have an early night, tommorow is going to be a long day, I wonder who is going to replace Botshelo.”

“How could she be so carelss though? Its not like she didn't know the rules.” Botle inquired.

“Things happen for a reason hey, atleast she is a model, she has a degree in Social Welfare and her parents are loaded. She will bounce back, plus she is very intelligent, and she pulled out herself before we even knew she was pregnant.”

Botshelo used to be my roommate and a housemate, she came from Botswana after topping ranking as the top university student in her country automatically qualifying for JOA scholarship. The girl had managed to hide pregnancy for six months and had dropped a bombshell after our second year finals that she was not coming back, she would go back to school probably after she was settled as she was getting married too.