…
[LARONA]
I’m woken up from sleep by loud ululations coming from my mother, who I see walking through the door – fully donned in blue and white Apostolic church uniform, including the dome hat and cross body stole.
‘Tsoga! Tsoga!’ She keeps singing Pleasure’s ‘Thapelo enale maatla’ and dancing barefoot to it in the middle of the room, looking prettier than ever with a blinding glow. I remember randomly coming across that song on YouTube on Tuesday. I considered adding it to the playlist but I quickly remembered that the church drum in the background might mess me up on my wedding day. She urges me to sit up and I do as she says.
‘You’ve grown, mababy. I am proud of the woman you’re turning into and I’m here to assure you that I haven’t left’
I nod.
‘I want you to keep your head held high. You are my child wena and you come from here’ she stabs her tummy multiple times with her index fingers. The smile is gone; she’s serious now.
‘I also want you to know that you’re in good hands. That man was chosen by your ancient angels and they wouldn’t throw you into the lion’s den’
I keep nodding as she speaks. I see that upside down smile again.
‘Everything you do in life should always start and end with prayer. By everything I mean exactly that; meals and all else. That’s your only weapon because I never taught you ditlhare because I also don’t know any. You should also remember that it is not everyone who is celebrating with you in truth. According to some people here, you were never supposed to amount to anything in this life but what they don’t know is that making me an angel before time was a bad move. Keep that chin up, okay?’
She nods after me and I see her walking out, in a very slow and unbothered pace.
I officially wake up and when I feel a body next to me, I find Kago and my heart immediately breaks at the disappointment. I’m overwhelmed by great sadness right now. I wish she was physically here. Or at least touched or given me a hug in that dream. I miss her so, so much!
‘Couzzy, are you okay? Why are you crying?’ she’s endlessly brushing my back. I did not mean to wake her up.
‘I dreamt mom was here. It felt so real’ I explain. She frowns with sadness.
‘Oh man. I’m so sorry. Askiies couz man’
I then remember that I was angry when I went to bed last night because of my stepmother. She keeps wanting to mess things up for me, parading like an elder who knows better. Maybe that’s why mom kept telling me to chin up.
‘I miss aunty too. Remember how she always used to wake us up early in the morning and say she wants her bedding and curtains taken down so they could get washed?’
I laugh through the tears.
‘Tsogang and get off my beds’ she claps the same way my mother would. That was her way of instilling the culture of waking up before the sun got too hot. ‘
‘And we wouldn’t dare sleep on her bare mattresses. That time she’s loudly playing that song she used to love wholeheartedly. Kana ke eng? Yoh I forgot the name of that song’
‘Lona Ba Ratang Gophela. Isaac and The Mighty Messengers’ I remind her with a smile.
‘Listen?! She would be dancing in circles a bina skhalanga the whole house’
I remember. I see her in my head. That was before she switched churches.
‘You know what? We need to play it’ she jumps off the bed and runs out. I hear the song minutes later and she increases the volume. Bathong, it’s six O’clock. I am certain there’s people still sleeping in this house but knowing my cousin? She doesn’t care. She comes back to fetch me and throws me the satin gown written ‘The Bride’ at the back and Mrs N on the front. I quickly tie it because she’s busy singing along and in a rush. We go out and revive my mom’s culture in the living room. The catering ladies walk in and join us with the biggest smiles on their faces, after placing their crates down. It goes on repeat and I see my aunt, who’s my mom’s younger sister, walking in and dancing as well with a Gordon’s bottle in one hand. The other hand is in the air as she sings as if she’s praying. I’m surprised that she’s not yet pap drunk. More people join us and we turn my dad’s house into a church. I start to feel strong shivers and goosebumps. I feel the Holy Spirit filling the place up and this brings me to tears and I’m not the only one. One of the catering ladies has her eyes closed but her cheeks are wet.
‘Oska tlowa Postoleng. Hona le ntho e oka e fumanang!’ I almost lose my mind when the vocalist screams this out. For a long time, I was just singing without understanding the lyrics. Being on a spiritual journey is indeed a narrow path but because we are seeking eternal life, we must endure and honour the covenants we’ve made between ourselves and the Almighty; we need to walk the road not taken that diverges in a yellow wood, the one less travelled as Robert Frost has once said.
‘Oh! My sister’s song bathong. I wish she was here. She would’ve such made a big deal out of this’
‘As she should!’ the catering lady supports.
I didn’t know you were a church goer’ someone says to my aunt.
‘Why? Because I’m a drunkard?’ she asks and everyone laughs. ‘My sister, do not judge a book by its cover because you never know why it might be in tatters. We left the church but we are still very much rooted in the presence of God’
The music switches off and we all turn in the direction of the sound system. We find my stepmother.
‘Cecilia, what exactly is your problem?’ Aunty asks.
‘My husband doesn’t like noise. What is all this ruckus?’
Aunty walks in her direction and she steps back. She turns the music back on and people begin summoning their God again. Kago starts doing the rotational dance around my stepmom, rotating on arm around the other and people join her – trapping my stepmother inside. I almost laugh when I notice that she’s fuming. Fun is had until most of us are tired.
‘Why are you stopping the music?’ My grandmother asks as she struggles to get inside the house with her walking stick and hand on her back. When Levy attempts to help her, she angrily slaps his hand away.
‘Play that song I was watching on TV child’
‘Which one nkgono?’ Kago nervously asks because she knows she might catch an insult for not remembering the song granny wants. We are all waiting in anticipation for this song to be recalled.
‘Mciim that one… the one by that beautiful girl’
‘Kubobonke Othixo? By Ntokozo Mbambo?’
‘Bothixo ba eng? Play the song’ Nkgono gets impatient and I swallow my lips so she doesn’t see me laughing. Kago quickly finds it and granny celebrates when she hears that it’s indeed the one, then asks her to lower the volume a bit. My grandmother insists that we form one big circle, hold hands and pray with this song in the background.
‘God, my infallible God…’ she leads the prayer and this does things to my heart. Prayers by caring old women, the bedridden and children are always genuine and sincere. I hear by her slipper moving against the floor that she’s having difficulty standing but she insists. That means a lot.
‘This child is Yours. The beginning and end of her life is known by you and You alone. Please protect her against the vultures that are busy circling us in this moment because re tshepile Wena, O lefika la rona Modimo waka’
I can hear that someone has left the room. I can bet that it’s my stepmother. Granny continues praying her breath away and we all say Amen after her when she reaches that point. She calls me to come to her when people scatter. I watch her reaching into the pocket of her khiba dress. She takes out a white rosary and hands it to me, with a shaking hand.
‘Even if you don’t wear this around your neck, keep it safe, with you always’
I acknowledge with a hug and she makes sure it’s not long. I chuckle at how she still hates affectionate gestures. I am standing against the door so I can see Kuli stepping out of the car with the kids and a garment bag which likely has her outfit in it. I don’t know, but her arrival has just put a stamp to all this. It’s truly happening. Light rain start drizzling outside and my grandmother nods at me with a subtle smile, before walking away with a waddling gait.
CHAPTER 31
Start from the beginning
