Playlist: Bts~ Life goes on
Serendipity: (n) Finding something good without looking for it.
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One day the world stopped
Without any warning
Spring didn’t know to wait
Showed up not even a minute late
Streets erased of footprints
I lie here, fallen to the ground
Time goes by on its own
Without a single apology
Patricia Thozama Ncoko was born on 14th May 1949 to Makhaya Elijah Rungqhu and Danjiswa Roselinah Stunda at Lasmesi Location, Tsholomnqa. She came from a family of 5, namely Nomathamsanqa, Mhlangabezi, Sakhiwo and Phillip who have all since passed on.
Thozama Ncoko worked for the Department of Education for 42 years. Affectionately known as Tululu, Thoz, Nodairy by her peers, she attended Twecana BC School and went on to Mount Arthur Girls High School where she excelled. She furthered her studies and obtained the following qualifications:
1969: Junior Secondary Teachers Certificate Course Lovedale College;
1981: Bachelor of Arts - University of Fort Hare;
1983: Bachelor of Education - University of Fort Hare;
1989: Diploma in Applied Linguistics - University of Fort Hare;
1992: Bachelor of Arts (Honours) - Rhodes University; and Certificate in Book Keeping, Pastel Accounting and others.
She taught at Wongalethu High School, David Mama High School, Ulwazi High School and lectured at Dr W B Rubusana College of Education. She was a Senior Education Specialist at the Department of Education (East London District Office) when she pensioned. A woman of strong character, she was also involved in various business initiatives. After a long illness, she succumbed to the call of death due to natural causes. She is survived by her 4 children, Baxolile, Xoliswa, Lungelwa, Bulelwa, 7 grandchildren and Axola, her daughter in-law.
Farewell Nyawuza ,Thahla, Ndayeni, Ngqungqushe, Ziqelekazi, Hlamba Ngobubende. Your love, kindness and generosity will be cherished forever.
_
You deserved it all, and so much more.
I still can’t believe it. All of this seems like a dream. My heart is still shattering on you as you have disappeared. It’s like a wind that gently strokes me, like dust that gently drifts along. You’re there, but for some reason I can’t reach you.
You, who’s like a dream is a butterfly high to me. Will you stop time
if this moment passes? As though it has already happened, I’m scared I’ll lose you.
I can’t tell whether it is sweat or tears. My bare-love and tough typhoon and wind can only make me run more with my heart.
Memories are crumbling like dried flower leaves
On my fingertips and under my feet
And behind my back
Like chasing red or wondering in dreams
I follow your traces
Hoping that you'll guide me
Unevenly breathing, I'm happy enough even though I can’t get to you.
_
To the world, you were my aunt, but to me, you were the WORLD.
YOU ARE READING
...Promising Young Woman...
Poetry◇ ◆ ◇ So... is this the part where I find myself? ◇ ◆ ◇ A/N: I need you guys to reload my book and check to see how some of the chapters have been edited, recreated and permanently removed. Thank you for reading my book and for also being patient wi...
