The Blundered Journey

Complete

Growing up as a kid was wonderful, with wonderful things as well as wonderful experiences, “Aw look at those cute little feet”, my Aunt would say those words before she left the house off to work everyday.

The day light was different because of that innocent pure heart, bad and good was the same (imagine as with spectacles). Slowly but showily I grew up knowing exactly that one day I would have to man up and help Aunt Mandy with the dishes or maybe with the cleaning but not with the terrible system, the curse that made Aunt wake up every day early in the morning active with African energy and come back tiredly lazy as a tortoise from a hard-ware surface.

She was always working hard day and night without any rest. Aw poor Aunt; she reminds me of a mythical virtual great grandma from Nquthu (KZN), it was as if she was continuing the family lineage of hard work as she spoke proudly of her, the way she was a true inspiration for her, the act and mind set were like some kind of a Replicate but that was not for long after she literally stopped breathing on an apartheid match. That was the most hurting part every time she told me the story a tear would always ram down on her cheeks like a hot iron sinking into a thick sub-zero ice as she experienced a sadness emotion "only god knows", that’s how she concluded.

The days passed by but only one of them was remarkable which was on the first day of the week, the last thing I remember was when I woke up I saw Aunt in a hurry system, she was panicking and a bit scared or confused, her eyes were full of doubts it was like she was forced to leave the house on a gun point. I asked her "Aunt what's going on?” she looked me straight in the eyes and responded with the powerful words she always pulled whenever there was trouble "Only God Knows". Stress was my new system as I got frightened and became worried because I knew that something bad was going through her mind. She gave me a huge bear hug like she always did before leaving the house, without a goodbye she went off.

I waited-waited for a week expecting her to return like lost hope on the government with the last call for freedom. I had nothing; no food, no friend and no one to look after me. Life went dark and I was left with no other choice but to embark on a journey, seek my family and light my life's light-bulb, I packed my stuff and there I was, alone in a big city "Jozi Maboneng" street gangs classify it with suspicious street names, only the realest OGs (Original Gangster) know the difference.
I struggled through the directions of locating my Uncle; Thomas Bubhezi, he was nowhere to be found and so I was left with the last thing in my mind for survival which is to deteriorate from the township life to eNquthu (the worst rural area in my book).

Nothing I had and I was hungry with critical thirst as i paused; eyes wide opened like a lion steady to strike on a zebra in a bit more focused manner, my tummy grumbled as if there was a stumped horsing through my tubes. The lion is now ready to strike, I did the tongue thing slowly moistening my lips, the dryness inside my mouth let to an extintive dehydration. “Yew stupid", a man on a stall shouted "get out of here broky, you cannot come here and wait for like 5 minutes without buying at least”.

I tried to explain my situation but the scattering of the crowd in favour of buying shifted me, "it seems like no one wants to understand what I'm going through". I came to my senses and realized something instead of putting my hands on life that won't matter, I needed to put matters onto my own hands. I was carrying my rot school bag with khaki pants and my home made T-shirt (rainbow colours made it appear in a Ndebele format)
I somehow luckily arrived at the taxi rank, I was weak and dizzy but the Gift of GOD in humans was not present, I went to the deep corner of the rank where i decided to seat flat and relax my brains just so I can think straight.

After some time on my far left just before the deep left side of the corner of the rank where taxis usually park before embarking on a road trip, a white rocky (taxi) somehow got a flat tire, so they were busy struggling to work over it due to less assistance. I went there and gave them a hand, "wow that’s a great one there mshana”, said a man who was seating on the second seat just before the driver's seat.

We changed the tire, how? I do not know but by faith it happened, “now the bull dog is ready to hit onto Shaka land”, said a man who was also assisting as he turned around and walked to his stall. It was a dream don't wake me up as i looked straight into the eyes of the driver, I think he was a bit confused by my situation as he spontaneously reached out cash in his pants pocket like in a movie or something as a reward for helping out but I refused and told him my problem and explained what has happened to me, I begged and begged and he showed sympathy.

I entered into the car and it fired up on a long journey, within a blink of an eye we arrived (the last blink was when I fell asleep, so I was not aware of the road). I gave a lot of thanks to the driver as he showed me directions as how to navigate Nquthu section. The Johannesburg curse followed me again, I struggled with the travelling, and I had 20 bucks in my pocket on which I planned to buy food on my way to Granny's house. I went to a supermarket and bought two bags of oranges to set up an exaltory welcome (Read books on how to set up warm welcomes). The search continued but regrettably I found no one with the same DNA sequence, I knocked on every door and searched every place and I was back on the streets with no GPS.

I saw my life flash away, the welcome light from the heavens, the deep bold glorifying horn like that of the seventh angel. I fell on my knees and uplifted my hands in a way of giving up my life which literally changed eventually as the wagon got closer, I was 2 seconds away; 7 feet on the distance, boooom-bidli!! and everything became dark.

My body was positioned in a numb position, I opened my eyes and there I was in a huge building with blue and white spotted walls. I sat on my behind and started singing praises to the Higher one, slowly waving my arms in a slow rhythmic motion of the song. The Doctor came with their medical stuff which drove me insane because I’m either sick or injured to be in a hospital. “Where am I? “In a hospital dumb head”, said a man who was lying on my left hand side of the bed. I did not believe and so I started breaking down with laughter starring at the so-called Doctor's eyes waiting for her to tell me that it’s a prank or I’m in a movie or something, but the results were the same, so painful especially when people kept on taking pics feeling sorry for me. I learned another lesson instead of whining around ignoring the truth I needed to face my own guts and allow life manifest in me (apparently I learnt nothing because their white dazzling gowns seemed very imaginative like that of the angels), I thought of screaming but according to a bird eye view, a man like that belongs to a mental school.

I tried to trace down my memory but all I kept on seeing was that glorifying light until I came with an idea of lifting my upper body specifically my head with neck veins pulling my neurons with string pain on my shoulders, it was difficult to do so as if I was lifting a 50 KG single dumbbell. It took me 7 minutes to come with an idea of just lifting it like a normal sick or injured person and stop doing it like a healthy normal dude, that was not for long as I quickly bounced back on my back and covered my body with a blanket and took a same time nap (maybe I will wake up in a different stage tomorrow).

I made it through the night though it was painful, when I opened my eyes a tear streamed on my cheeks, I rudely poked a nurse who was treating that guy on my left hand side ,"ouch!, why are you doing that?", sorry I responded. "how long am I going to be in here?" ,"aha, for as long as mother nature is in the mood because you are too wrecked for that type of a question you asking ", said the guy on my left hand side ,"stop it, as the nurse proclaimed and turned around to my side with an encouraging slow motion manner "don't worry, you are not that badly injured, you will be out in no time ".

Hope started building up but the punisher guy on my left side made it seem worse day by day for few weeks which was not for long because I was healing quite fast and within days "boomshakalaka" I was ready to wear my casual cloths and out of that bed. "Hey buddy”, I looked the punisher in the eyes "it seems like this is your life time home until you meet the grave". Wow that was hot enough to break iron.

At last I will be wearing my favourite khakis pants, it was cold as I stored my hands in my pants pocket and bumped into something strange, a letter written by my Aunt which reads as follows;

"Dear Sanele, as you are reading the letter, just know that I’m long gone probably taken by strikers at my work place fore I have disordered against the protest of going to work while not supposed to, so as immediate effect I left my purse at my drawer which has R200 and the address of your Grandma's house at the ORANGE FARM".

(do not get it confused, it’s my Grandma not the Great Grandma hero).
I went through emotions, I pledged Earth be opened so I may enter where no struggle continues.

By Sipho Miles Mhlambi