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

⌣»̶·̵̭̌·̵̭̌✽̤̥̈̊☀̤̈̇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.

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

thanks dear.

I think we have diverted making it a little glaring for my understanding.. No problem, I will understand it very soon.. Just keep it up ma, God Bless you

Davefirst: I think we have diverted making it a little glaring for my understanding.. No problem, I will understand it very soon.. Just keep it up ma, God Bless you

Thank you, remember the three girls that arrived on Malaika's first day in S.A? One of the girls was Ife-Oluwa, then there were the other two who are Southern Africans, T'soarelo and Botshelo. Now T'soarelo is narrating her part of the story.

HumbledbYGrace: Thank you, remember the three girls that arrived on Malaika's first day in S.A? One of the girls was Ife-Oluwa, then there were the other two who are Southern Africans, T'soarelo and Botshelo. Now T'soarelo is narrating her part of the story.

I got it now.. Thanks for the enlightenment.

i love dis story but ure taking to long to update. Pls update!

#adjusts seat belt# story continues...yay! Weldone big sis...and dnt keep moi waiting 4 too long...luv ya nd missed ya

ayee. Hallelujah somebody,HBG been a while,good job you are doing,kip it up but pls kip d updates coming.Cheers Love

hey! Update oh! Have been waiting oh! Sincece! Grey hair have already grown on my jaw!

**********


I rushed out of our flat like a bullet, in a rush to go with a friend of mine who had just moved out of his parents house to a new flat.

One of the things I learned the first day I met this guy was his love for cars, he changed cars like a lady's underwear and I just wasn't sure which car was his. I waited patiently for him to reply my ping with a flash of his headlights, and to my suprise he was driving a mover's truck.

“What on earth? I never pictured you driving this car?” I asked as soon as I got in, tugging my hands deep between my thighs to prevent them from frosting. It was chilly, the temperature had dropped from eight degrees to five.

“Well, Faith, you have a lot to learn then.” He replied with a grin.

He had decided to call me Faith, a name which was not known to many as most people called me T'soarelo. I guess my Grandmother had a good reason why T'soarelo got so popular while Faith was only on my Identity documents. T'soarelo is a native name in Sotho meaning 'forgive'/forgiveness'.
“I guess. Tell me, where are you moving to mr man?”

He sighed, “Far away from my parents, I am twenty five years and really tired of living under the same roof with my folks and an irritating cousin.”

“Oh, ok.”

Whenever we crossed paths at school we always had something to say to each other, but as the friendship progressed we found ourselves stealing glances at each other. I found myself drawn to Maru but in a way I couldn't understand, but I had to pinch myself back to reality that unlike most of my varsity mates, I sweat and bled to get here. I wasn't born with a silver spoon and had to remove dating, partying and late nights out of the equation. I got carried away in my first year and I didn't get the results my family was expecting.

Maru on the other hand was a ladies man, he always had someone, he had told me time and again that he had to finish school first before he can fish for Mrs right and I have timelessly wondered what he was doing with all those girls.

I thought he was going to ask me out the first time we met at school, but he said he liked my Afro.

We reached the place, faster than I had expected it. It was a fancy flat, two bedroom flat, a furnished kitchen, large living room and two bedrooms with bathrooms. I helped him carry the few boxes upstairs.

“Would you like something to drink dear?” Maru asked, after we done with the boxes from the car.

“Yes please, something hot.”

While he was making coffee a girl walked in. She was cursing someone over the phone, she had the colored people from Eastern Cape's accent. Short, very light in complexion, kinky hair dyed in blonde.

She pretended like we were not in the kitchen, she just wasn't paying attention to us. Maru and I just watched her do her thing until she was done.

“Phew, that was awkward.” Maru frowned, “do you think she is alright?”
He asked.

I shook my head, I barely knew the girl, it was my first encounter with her.

“She looks alright to me, is she your room mate's girlfriend?”

“I don't know, but I think she is.”

“What does he do?”

“My room mate?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I would be lying if I say I know, all I know is, he is a student and he is working.”

“Oh, what is he studying?”

“I really don't know dear. Why don't you help me unpack in the bedroom?”

Maru changed the subject and we took our coffee to his bedroom. The bed was not made up, he quite didn't know what bedsheets to use. I gave myself the job of choosing the color that would suit his bedroom color, which was painted in white. I chose lime sheets and green covers, the bedroom came to life in an instant.

“Thank you, your the best.” Maru threw himself at me catching me off guard and we both fell on the bed giggling.

I felt the muscles in my tummy tighten, my lips became dry I tried to say something, I couldn't. Maru was ontop of me, I wanted to push him aside but I had no strength to do so, with his eyes locked in mine, I just couldn't help it, I was weak. I had never kissed a boy before, in my twenty two years of living I never even got close to a guy as I was with Maru. I acted like I have done it all, when I was around my flatmates, what they didn't know wouldn't kill them.

I noticed a cresent moon shape of a birth mark on his forehead, just on his right eye brow. I could make it out as it was lighter than his skin tone, before I could ask about it, our lips met. My breathing stopped as his warm silky tongue searched my mouth, the bitter sweet taste of coffee still fresh in his mouth.

“Why are you stealing from me?” A male voice hissed from the kitchen.

Maru broke the kiss and got up, straightened his shirt, but I pulled him back in fear. “Please don't go in there,” I whispered tucking at his arm.

“Don't just stare at me, why are you stealing from me? I took you from the streets, you were a piece of trash, I took you in and do everything for you but your stealing from me!” The voice continued.

“Haibo, I am not a slave Ceejay, I didn't steal your stuff I took it because this my place too.” The girl replied, the voice was that of a girl who walked in earlier shouting on the phone.

Maru held me closer to him, caresing my arms, I hate it when people fight, and a man who shouts at women always made me cringe. Being raised by a woman, it was hard for me to get aquinted to the male folk, Maru was the first I had ever got close to, and I was praying silently that he wouldn't shout at me in future.

“This isn't your house, its my house, I pay rent here!”

“But I also sell my body so that I can meet you half way Ceejay. I always give you money every night. Whatever I make you always take it, so what are you talking about?”

“So what? I found you prostituting already, so what makes you think you moving in with me will change?”

Silence.

“If you want to go back to your hell hole, be my guest, take off the hair I fixed on you and leave my things. I sell those drugs, I didn't come from Nigeria to play with my money, I came to make it.”

Silence again and then the girl started crying, at first it was sobs then then wailing then sobs again.

“Your noisy maan!” The girl sniffed.

“Don't tell me I am making noise in my house!”

“But,”

“Shut the fu*ck up, I will fu*ck you up right now you won't know what hit you.”

“I am not your slave, I have rights, I...”

“Biatch when I am talking you shut up, your a slut and nothing will ever change that now come here I want to fu*ck you.”

“Hai!”

“You know you want to, come here.”

There was silence again and then the moanings followed, Maru burst out laughing. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry but I knew then that I wanted to leave.

“I think I should leave.” I said getting up. Maru frowned. “Wait, I hope you are not thinking I am going to sleep here, with you, in your bed. I am just your friend, that kiss was a huge mistake and it doesn't change anything between us.”

“Whao girl, if I want sex from you, I would have had it a long time ago. Incase if you haven't noticed, half of the girls at school would pay to even hold my hand.” He retorted and walked away from me, “come let's go, I have things to do.” With that he let the way out of his bedroom, luckily his house mate and his girlfriend were done.

We drove in silence, when he dropped me off, he didn't say anything.

I dedicate this to the Man of All Season, the Legend of Africa, the Hero of a lifetime - RIP Madiba! Your legacy remains Forever.. RIP Nelson Mandela!

Thanks for uploading today..

Davefirst: I dedicate this to the Man of All Season, the Legend of Africa, the Hero of a lifetime - RIP Madiba! Your legacy remains Forever.. RIP Nelson Mandela!

Thanks for uploading today..

Indeed, rest in Peace tata.

Davefirst: I dedicate this to the Man of All Season, the Legend of Africa, the Hero of a lifetime - RIP Madiba! Your legacy remains Forever.. RIP Nelson Mandela!

Thanks for uploading today..

U r dedicating another person's wrk? Smh

goldwaters:
U r dedicating another person's wrk? Smh

I did not dedicate her work.. I dedicated the chapter I read in the day Madiba died.. And this is also to show my respect for HBG's country...

update!update!update! I am happy to
annonce d birth of grey hair born to d
family of my jaw which has grown due to
waiting! Waiting!waiting! For UPDATE*

Interesting...


Noticed the use of 'your' instead of 'you are' all over the story. Is that how it is used in Southern Africa.


Story line is great though.

what happened to this story . has it b forgotten?

One of d bst stories av read on NL so far..... M short of words

MzOG:
One of d bst stories av read on NL so far..... M short of words

Thanks

HumbledbYGrace:

“And you?” Dineo got up from the couch too angry to care about her words. “Your 27 and have a baby and its mother with all her drama! If your man enough why don't you marry her and set an example for me?”

The last time i checked my calculator 27-15=12, if that be the case then her mother was more loose. My opinion though.

ESIXLOVE:
The last time i checked my calculator 27-15=12, if that be the case then her mother was more loose. My opinion though.

Don't judge until u got all the facts

HumbledbYGrace:
Don't judge until u got all the facts

dear i wasn't judging. Was just thinking. Well work. I'm awe

ESIXLOVE:
dear i wasn't judging. Was just thinking. Well work. I'm awe

get you bra.

Sooooooo interesting..... U are such a talented writer... I luv d twists nd turns in d story..... Expecting more frm u.

adeh39:
Sooooooo interesting..... U are such a talented writer... I luv d twists nd turns in d story..... Expecting more frm u.

thanks dear....the best is yet to come.

Almost a year after the last update. Love the drama and theme to an extent.