Dear soon to be ex…

So here we are, some place I did not think I will ever reach, not that it does not exist but when I started this journey with you, I did not occur to me that we, us, me and you, you and I, us, will be here one day.

Someone once told me to always expected the unknown unexpected, and truly speaking this is the first for me and I am lost. I wish I could say I don’t know how we got here but that will be a lie, it is just that I chose to ignore so many of your out cries and out bursts so many times as they had been happening so often lately.

At first I thought I won’t cry over this part, but today I found myself so weak so hopeless so… I have no words, and I burst out crying. Crying alone which is something that I do when I have no answers to the pain inside me that I don’t want the world to see on my face. Pain I want to ignore and pretend its not there, but today I cried, cried really bad but I think I am okay now or will be soon.

I must admit, it is still going to hurt for some time to come still, but I have to learn to let go and put things in order. I have to learn anew how not to expect your warm breath next to me, I have to learn know I won’t have you to be mad at, I have to learn to fill my bed and keep myself warm, I have to learn to stop crying over us, over you, over this pain.

I never thought us will ever be reduced to duties and roles played, to manipulations, secrets, accusations, lies, who has what, who is more educated or who had the better education, the virtual significant other, other than me or you in us.

So many questions now fill my head, like this one, was there ever us? Or have we always fooled each other knowing fully well that this is just you and I? Was this always a plan to just put out the fire and dish out the worst pain just at the moment when I thought we were far from what was always expected to happen?

I don’t want to go there because I should have known and seen this coming a mile away, but my believe in us blinded me. I now know I have to get my shit together and figure out what is next, how to navigate this new route and unknown world that I find myself in now. You know, I wish so hard to hate you but those feelings of hate don’t want to fill me, I even find it funny saying that I wish to hate you, because it just sound insane.

I don’t have it in me to hate you, I told you over and over for years that I love you and I am blushing just saying I love you. I don’t know what to do with these feelings now because they have no where to go, no one to be given to and shared with, they are just lingering around.

I appreciate this last moments we are having, your cold face and voice, limited interactions, the cold looks. But at least I can still feel your warm body at night even though I know it won’t be there for long, even if it’s by accident that we even touch or is it because of the limited bed space, I hope not and will hold on to the accidental touching thought.

The morning greetings are met by a frown, the going to work goodbyes are done at a distance if they are said at all, there are no more replies to texts, just short phone calls that are less than ten seconds. This is were we find us after all these years of our crazy ups and downs, defying the rules and doing things OUR way as we saw fit for US. That was us at one point…I can’t believe this…

Wow…It really hurts…this is sooo missed up. I know what your next step is but beyond that paper I don’t, but here I am and I don’t know what to do, should I fight this, should I just let go and let be, what kind of person will I be after us, after you, but what is worse is the innocent people that are going to be more worse off than me and you and the end of this.

I did not want to bring them into this because I wanted this to be just about us, but they too are a big part of us, and this will destroy them. I am not saying you should stop your already rolling actions, no and I am not playing the guilt card. We created them equally and therefore I think they should be able to get our attention and love and to get to us equally without feeling any pressure, they did nothing to us to be where we are today.

I am thankful for your time in my life, without you in it for that long, I don’t know I would have turned out and I will never know because no one can turn back time and do over, but know I will be starting something I know nothing of, life without your smile, warm body, angry pissed off look, smell, goofiness and playfulness. Thank you for all this and more.

Thank you for also giving me time to adjust to life without you, with all the coldness around here lately, it is giving a chance to figure things out and to not rush into things just because I am emotionally driven right now. Life will never be the same and I know I will never ever again come across someone like you. Our good times were good, and I am glad our bad times never lasted more than three days at any given time.

I seriously don’t know where to start because it hurts so bad so much so deep, but thank you and I wish you all the best and hope you find everything I was unable to give you and the satisfaction you seek. I have no bitterness what so ever, and I am hoping life will treat you with kindness where ever you will be and prosper in what ever you put your mind to.

It will hurt when I see you around, worse when I see you with someone else, but I will be okay I won’t go crazy on you don’t worry because I love you too much to hurt you like that. I will cry maybe but a glass of wine if not the whole bottle will help me sleep. I just want you to know that I still care and I will always love you.

And as some song writer said; SOMETIMES LOVE JUST AIN’T ENOUGH

I will miss your snoring though and your smelly feet….HA…HA

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The thorn in your comfort zone

We all have it, all races, all colours, all sexes, the comfort zone and it has nothing to do with anything materially one have.

I read somewhere about success beginning at the end of one’s comfort zone, my addition to that is your comfort zone should be the thorn in your comfort. It should be like my favourite sofa, I love putting my butt there for hours, working, eating, commanding including napping. My sofa is like soulful food, that warm fresh towel after a bath at the end of a long day, that glass of wine when the house is finally quite and you can run around naked and singing a song you don’t know.

But my sofa is my thorn in my comfort zone, the more time I spent with it, there worse my health complications gets more complicated. My sofa is that thorn that reminds me that if I want to ever put on my high heel again, I should consciously remove my butt off of it and put on my sneakers and keep moving.

This is because I have my high heels hanging on the hall directly in-front of my sofa, as a reminder of why my comfort zone is the thorn in my comfort after a long day, and that keeps me going. I know that I will never wear those high heel, but if I love my comfort zone more, I will loose my freedom of going where ever I want without being scared of falling.

Comfort zone is just full horrible things to be honest, fear of the unknown, lots of self doubts, the mental self-esteem crushers, so many what ifs that never materialize, dreams that stays in our heads and never contribute to the betterment of the world, and all these we create in our heads just not to interact with the world.

There is nothing wrong with having a comfort zone, it should be there in times when you need that safety net when life happens the way you did not plan it. Just like when I come home and plant my butt on my sofa and enjoy that feeling, that pulsating feeling up and down my legs. I love them both because without appreciating the other, the other cannot happen.

I love the thorny side of my comfort zone, as it gives me the chance to keep pushing for my goals, and comfort me at the end of the day when I need that hug to can recharge and start all over again.

Comfort zones should be fun, be thorny, act as safety nets BUT never be dream killers, creators of low self-esteem and image, promoters of failure and poor health.

The power of a blank page

Setting here staring at a blank page wondering where the words to fill it are going to come from. You look around the room and find the most uninspiring thing looking back at you and in that moment words start filling your head. You can’t even type enough to keep up with every word that flows in and wanting to come out and fill the white screen that was a moment ago, staring at you while you thought you were the one staring at the blank page.

It was indeed staring at you, waiting to be turned into a big chunk of meaningful worthy paper, that has a potential to change someone’s life or just have an ever lasting memory planted in them. But for some time before this you did not know if it was even worth sitting here and bothering anymore with working with words.

Yes working I said, creating anything from scratch with no previous reference to any other written word like it, is a full time activity that need to be practiced and nurtured all the time for it to bare more meaningful outcomes, not just for the end user but to you the creator of the work.

It can come as naturally as breathing to some and to others it need some training for it to be of use to the many or the few that will come across it and see its usefulness.

Its usefulness can come in many forms, be it informative, be it entertaining, amusing even educational. Someone might use it once and leave it there and never bother to mention it ever again in their life, someone else might come across the same piece and linger around it  and hold on to it for future reference. Someone might find it and just keep sharing it over and over again, with anyone they think might find it just as interesting as they did.

The same person can even go an extra mile and persuade them to also keep sharing it with others and on and on it will go and amazingly it might find its way back to you. In a way of a recommendations by someone in your circle or in that moment you were sitting next to some guy on your way home one evening after working on yet another blank page the whole day that day.

That whole day you were still wondering why you keep torturing yourself like this and in that moment when this stranger next to you hands you those bound pages with that gorgeous cover that says take me home. Your eyes open wider, your heart beats faster, you want to jump out of your body and scream hallelujah to the top of your voice, you even thought of kissing the poor guy.

He just made your day worth all the crumps you felt on your butt as you set there putting together another masterpiece. Another blank page that was once again staring at you like you were the worst criminal on the face of the earth. But look at that last blank page and what you did to it.

You listen to this guy tell you what it did to his life and why he thinks you look like you need it in that moment on your ride home. You smile, you think again of the first blank page and now you are staring down on those beautiful life changing pages you produced and it hit. You want more, you want to hear more people talk like this guy.

Your journey home that evening seemed to be too short as you arrive at your crossroads, where your ride now takes you on separate ways, and you wonder, should I have told the guy about staring at a blank page one time in your life, should I have told him how you know about the person who put together those words in these nicely bound pages? Or maybe you should have just said you had your own copy, but where will the fun be in that?

Where will the thrill of going on another staring contest with the blank page going to come from, so as to meet another similar stranger? Where were you going to hear all those life changing moments of that guy and your bound pages that were once just blank and frustrating?

Look at them now, they are driving you to continue the staring and the frustrations because at the end they all come together and ultimately please and amaze you, the creator of all things written.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like if you had closed that blank page, signed your life away to the comfort of the 9 to 5 madness of enslaving your creativeness to Mr X just because he gives you $x every 28-30 days.

Responsibility, who is accountable?

finally my problem decided to give me a smallanyana break and let my do this now, fingers crossed

Ijo this is a 1031 word post, please bare with me.

Almost daily now this year, some road somewhere in our country is blocked off in the early hours of the morning by some protesting communities, unhappy people because of some acts by the leadership of our country.

We have a democratic government in our country and we are know it is the government for the people by the people because it is the people who make the choice of who they want to govern them for the following five years. Be it in national, provincial and local/municipal spheres of government.

But what I ask most times is, how is it that we are told that we made the choice of who is to lead us, where as the politicians are the ones within their parties that force the their chosen person down our throats and say we have a choice at the ballots

How is that democracy?

This past few weeks if not months, we saw again the lives of the most vulnerable and those that depend the most on our government to look after their interests and put them above personal gains, be mistreated and put in a state of continuous anxiety yet again. Over 17 million people who depend on South African social security agency are in a state of panic and anxiety as no one is giving them straight answers as to whether they will be able to put food on their tables come April 1st.

Is it going to be the biggest April’s fool the world will ever see?
But who is going to be laughing at who’s expense?

Our very own president, Mr J Zuma just last year showed us that he was above the law, and now those that are loyal and following him, followed in his very footsteps and did the same yesterday, they all disrespected the orders of the highest court of our land. They are so loyal to him, they follow him blindly, and forget that they are not accountable to him but to the nation. But what is to be expected of the ruling party that has smallanyana parties within itself that are fighting all the time.

Our constitution is so beautiful, one of the things it had guaranteed in it, is the one man one vote policy, something that was a dream to all black people in this county. With that right comes the responsibility to choose someone that has the best interest of our country above all else. Those elected in government are expected to serve selflessly and to the best of their abilities.

But do they?

We see it each day the game of diketo they play with the lives of South Africans, acquire as such as possible from those in the field of play for as long as you have the upper hand, and do not pay any attention to those that start to call you out on your cheating ways. Do not be bothered by the smallanyana player that finds it overwhelming that they trusted you to play fair and take turns for all to have a chance to acquire some part of the game.

Our leaders seem to take pleasure in changing the rules of every game they enter into to always give them the advantage of getting away with so many things that none wants to bare any responsibility for. We choose them with the hope for change, but soon we realize that change by their hand is just an illusion.

Most black people choose the same leaders or rather the ame ruling party not out of loyalty to their ways, but loyalty to the fear of ever being ruled by the minority white. Their past experiences of the lives they lived in those days still plays a big role in how they make their choices come elections. It hurts them to see their loyalty be paid back with more misery.

If this is a government by the people for the people, how are we responsible and accountable to ourselves?

Who is responsible for not having the means to make meaningful changes in our country?
Do we as citizens know the powers within us or do we still see ourselves in that unhealthy relationship of ‘ya bass’ and because they give un something we might as well just keep them in-charge? That little is taking us no where fast and we will forever be slaves to our leaders no matter their external colour.

Each individual has to take responsibility of the choices they make and be accountable for their actions, no matter how little they think of themselves or how big for that matter. But the choices should be that of our own making and not those forced upon us by others. Our leaders are playing games with our lives, we know that by now as they have shown us time and time again.

What are we as citizens doing about it for our nation building better tomorrow?

Complaining is simple, as we have been told time and time again, how are we going to unite, forget skin colours and t-shirt colours, and come together to build our country as best as we know it could be? Clearly our ‘imposed upon us’ leaders forgot about us the people and thought through their pockets and stomachs.

We can do better, I know we can

March 21 is human rights day in our country, how many of us will be drinking and eating and for a moment forgetting all those who are still in the grip of anxiety over where their next meal is going to come from?

Who will account to them and take responsibility of causing us all the mental issues that are brought about by all this worries, because with anxiety comes depression and all kinds of negative thought about one self worth?

How many hearts are going to stop come 1 April, either from the disappointment or the relief?

Are we even going to know about them, or will they just be ruled out as natural causes?

 

How many have to be…before we make any difference

Last week in The shorts: All for you: Part 1 we met Lesego the teen mom, who later we saw be a mom of three before she was 25 years old. Today our minister of basic education was reporting on 2015 schooling stats, and from that 15000 teen girls were reported to have fallen pregnant.

Then while listening to talk radio 702, with host Redi Tlhabi, she said something that I have been wondering about for sometime. Mme Redi asked something along the lines of, who fathers these kids, and if its adult men then it is statutory rape as some of these girls were as young as twelve. She also said if these teen are impregnated by other teen boys, then we as a society have a much bigger problem.

Our minister also said that we need to educate our teens more on the consequences of having unprotected sex, then I asked myself, what have our education system been teaching our children in the compulsory subject Life orientation/ Life skills, from grade R to 12. I asked this because just a few week ago my second daughter came home and showed my drawings of both male and female sexual organs, and told me what they were taught about how babies are made that day. My daughter is in grade 6.

Some few years back, her older sister who is now in grade 12, came home and told us that her teacher had told them to ask us what we as parents would do if they (boys and girls of her age) started dating, she was still in primary school as well by then. Years back our government had a campaign for the prevention of HIV spreading, the famous ABC, abstain, be faithful, condomize, mostly aimed at young people.

The latest campaign is double up, where you use both condoms and contraceptives, which both  are free at government clinics. At some point condoms where distributed at schools, you can even find them on sphaza shops point of sale. Each year nurses go around school to give HPV vaccines to girls from age 9, and also educate them about sex.

Now I ask, is it about education or is there something bigger that drives these statistics on teen pregnancies?

Are we as parents and society letting our by children get away with not taking any responsibilities for their part in these pregnancies? Do we have to look the other way each time we see an old men with a teen girl in a car under a tree, just because she is not your child, then go around labelling her all sorts of things and the guy just gets away without any labels that hurts their very core of being human?

Going back to Mme Redi’s statements, how many of those teen girls’ parents ever laid criminal charges against men that raped their children? Or they just see another meal ticket as their circumstances at home are that poor, that that man is just looked at as another way of providing for their family? Or is it that they do not know that what that man did is rape, or they know but have just lost faith in our justice system as many have in our country? Or is it a question of if that man went to jail, who will provide for the new born child?

If the pregnancy is as a result of a teen boy, why is society so hard on teen girls and their family but not on the teen boys? In most of our black cultures when a girl is unmarried and is found to be pregnant, the family of the girl meet with the family of the boy/man responsible for the pregnancy, for the boy/man to acknowledge and take responsibility for the baby.

If the boy is still too young and cannot provide, his family takes on the responsibility of the baby until he is able to take over, some families even force the two new parents to marry. Which on the other hand still puts the girl child at a disadvantage as she will still be faced with being a wife and a mother and her education still surfers the same as if she was just left to raise the child just with the help of her family. At least that way her own family sometimes encourage her to complete at least her basic education while they look after the baby.

How many Lesegos do we know in our communities and we have just labelled them and turned our backs? 

Some might put the blame on parents, but take it from me, no matter how on-hands you are and how you explain, tell real life stories and show your children all the responsibilities that comes with sex or how ever you put it, your children make their choices and unfortunately you cannot be with them 24/7 and live their lives for them with all the knowledge and experience you have.

Have we as females let males dominate us to the point where we take pleasure in belittling other females because of acts males do to us?
Have we as society become so numb that responsibilities  are just a word or some luxury that no one wants?

 

Your fear of the unknowns

Have your fears emanated through to your children to the point where they affect how they (your children) interact with the world?

I once heard that we create our own fears in our own heads just by thinking too much. We do not have all the answers to all that we don’t know, but that is why adventure and discovery are there. When you look at a child’s interaction with the world, the first time it is able to follow moving objects, do you ever wonder what happened to that curious look in your own eyes?

LESEGO in All For You, this week’s short story, could be seen by some as a typical teen girl looking for an easy life. But on the other hand one can look at her as someone who never lost her sense of wonder as a child. She did not look back and want to fall on to the comfort of her parents’ love, but went into the world and created her own story.

What I discovered was that so many others just concluded that nothing good can ever come from such a person as Lesego, who they saw as a burden to society, but never saw that one of her children will turn out to be a genius.

Taking her parent’s reaction to her pregnancy, might have been influenced by their own past experiences. We should remember that most African cultures, once a girl child have their first menstrual cycle, they are deem a full grown woman ready for marriage. Which could be have been one of her mother’s fears, and that her child never go through such.

Again Lesego shows us the other side of fear.

Lesego became a paralyzed parent when it came to her own children’s discipline. We saw how GOITSEMANG was able to do as she pleased and talk back and swear at her mother, even in-front of other people. Society might judge her harshly in this regard and not lend a hand to guide her to be a better person for her children, in order to cut the circle of those they deem a burden.

From Lesego’s life experiences, Goitsemang was just a reflection of her mother and that it was expected to be that way, since it was the only way she knew a girl child to behave. She let her fears take over and blind her to what was the truth. We rush to act without questioning what the real deal is. Goitsemang rebelled just to have a better outcome in life, she was lucky to have found her support in her boyfriend and his family, which is very rare in our societies these days.

We saw Goitse turn out okay by her own account, and that means her fears of turning out like her mother propelled her to hold herself high and not let society label her otherwise. She learned to appreciate her mother’s complex life and all the fears that build her to be the person she is. Did her mom’s fears rub off on her? Yes they did because she is now an over protective involved mother.

How conscious are you of yours?

 

The shorts: All for you – Part 4

PLEASE NOTE THAT THE FOLLOWING PASSAGE CONTAINS SWEAR WORDS

Later that afternoon, there was a knock at their front door. Usually the people that came to their house used the back door to the get assistance. Mpho opened the door and there was this woman who just stood there staring at him. A few moments passed and then she asked if his mom was home. He let her in and she started looking around like she was searching for something.

Their mom stopped dead in her tracks after locking eyes with the woman standing in the middle of her family room like she owned it; as she came in from the kitchen.
“So this is where my husband’s money went. You really put your vagina to good use and he just could not get over it. You really can shake it neh, where is he, where is my husband hiding? You milked him and now you left his kids without a father, and he just followed you to hell for this mixed bag sperms. What did you do with my husband and who know how many more families you racked to get this house and those two little bitches, at least him I know, but these two, I wonder. And oh yah I know about your business and how you spice it up to keep them coming back to this hell hole.”
The woman was stamping and throwing arms around like she was crazy.

Mpho had heard enough and took her by the hand and pulled her towards the door. He pushed her out and she fell onto her knees. When she stood up Mpho was still standing in the door. “Did that bitch of a mother tell you your father was a married man with four kids already? Did she, did she?” the woman was screaming so loud.
“Get the fuck out of our yard before I call the police. No one speaks to my mother like that stupid. And yes I know who my father is and he left you because you are a psychotic bitch and had had enough of your foul mouth. And guess what, he is coming back next week for his kids. He had just completed renovations at his new place. So get going; get the hell out of here and stay away from us stupid!”
Mpho creamed back and pushed her out the gate, he then lock it behind her.

When he got back into the house, he found his mother in tears on the sofa alone. He comforted her and apologized for all the noise. Koketso and Gontse were in Gontse’s room while she was packing, crying and swearing.
” This is why I never liked it here, I should have not came back, I am sorry sis but this has gone way too far .”
She phoned her boyfriend to come pick her up. Koketso cried the whole night after her sister told her she was never coming back. For the first time in her life, her family unit was really falling apart, all because of some strange woman. She has been around strangers all her life and never saw them as a threat to her family unit.

The shorts: All for you – Part 3

Koketso found herself drawn to the books in the office and as inquisitive as she was, she slowly started doing the exercises in them and enjoyed the challenge. Mr Meyer noticed notes left on his desk some times and some were in French. They had equations and pointers to some of the problems in his masters text books and some were answers to exercises.

Mr Meyer took Koketso home one day to talk to her mom about what he found on his desk. She was so scared out of her mind not knowing what she had done wrong. All she could think of was the workbooks she took from the storeroom without permission a month earlier, after hiding in the library all day after her teacher shouted at her for reading some novel that was not related to any school work.

Upon arrival, Koketso ran straight to her room and came back in tears with those books, which were for her grade’s next term work, and a big file on top of them. She was crying and apologising for not asking first for the books. She showed Mr Meyer what she did with them, and all her work was in the file; there were some improvements on some of the contents of the workbooks.

Lesego did not understand why her child was crying for doing her school work, what she did not realize was that her daughter had completed her whole year’s school work in just one term. Koketso had also written more examples of the work which were more fun and easy to understand.

But Mr Meyer was not there for that surprise, he showed Lesego the more complex equations that Koketso had done and they were from his masters degree text books which he brought along. He was busy explaining how some of his co-learners could not understand the work yet and her daughter who was still in primary school had solved them.

They watched Koketso go to her room again and returned with four more files. She told the two adults in the room that were looking at her as though she was crazy, that she only did those because she had nothing else to do and the work in the bigger books looked more fun than what she was doing in class. She showed them that she had also translated some of the work into French.Mr Meyer and Lesego were left white faced.

In May while other kids at Koketso’s school were writing their mid-year exams, she was writing her finals for grade 7, she was to start with grade 8 in the third term. Goitsemang was home at the end of her first semester, and their mom had organised a little family lunch to celebrate Koketso’s amazing talent. Lesego had closed her business for that day and it was just the four of them and they were happy to finally be alone as a family. Goitse was the happiest of them all and loved every moment she was with her mom.

The shorts: All for you; Part 2

For the next two week Mpho was frilled like a convict, and when he returned home he was as straight as an arrow and started helping his mom more around the house. Goitsemang was hardly home after writing her grade 12 exams. One evening while preparing herself to go out, her younger sister came into her room and sat on the bed and watched her attentively.

Koketso sat there for ten minutes without a word, then she asked her sister some innocent questions that lead to the big question and the real why she was there in the first place. Koketso was just 11 then but her mind worked like that of a 25 year old. She was very good with figures and enjoyed French more than any other additional language offered at her school.

Even with her big brains, she was taken aback by her sister’s answer to why she hated their mom. Goitse told Koketso that she did not hate their mother, but was embarrassed by her business of selling alcohol and always having to clean up after her customers. She also told her that she dressed in skimpy clothes sometimes because she hated how some of the customers looked at her and sometimes try to touch her bum.

Goitse said she wanted their mom to throw them out, but each time she brought it to her attention she never did. Goitse continued telling Koketso that all she ever wanted was for her mom to come to her defence, but instead told her that those men were the reason she had food whenever she opened cupboards or fridge. Goitse ended up crying so bad that she cancelled her plans that evening and locked herself in her room until the next day in the late afternoon, or rather early evening.

Mpho was still suffering from withdrawals and doing his best to hold it in and told his mom that he inhaled painted fuses by accident when she asked about his sick face. They kept the truth from his mom and he now had a mentor and good friend in his life. His performance  at school also improved and he cut out his old friends. He was home almost all the time and seriously studying. He passed his grade that year but was just an average pass.

Goitsemang passed her grade 12 with a university entry and enrolled to study psychology, it took her mom and brother by surprise but Koketso had an idea after their talk the other night. Koketso on the other hand was also doing well at school, she was in fact a star student at her school, but was always in trouble with her teachers.

She had a tendency of telling her teachers that she was bored in class and they were always forced to send her to the deputy principal’s office. In the time she spent in there she noticed chemistry books all over the office. Mr Meyer was teaching physics, chemistry and life science in grade 11 and 12, and was also studying his masters’ degree in science.

The shorts: All for you: Part 1

Lesego got involved with an older guy at a tender age of 14, she thought he was the answer to her freedom from her substandard living circumstances. Two days before her 16 birthday, she gave birth to a baby girl named Goitsemang. By age 21 she was expecting her third child, with no matric and no steady job.

Lesego’s parents had disowned her after the first pregnancy and now she was living in an informal settlement in a one roomed shack and surviving on government child grants and maintenance from her second child’s father. Goitsemang’s father was killed by his partners in crime. She did not have much but she got by with her kids.

As soon as her daughter started grade R, she decided to take her two year old son to pre-school, which was paid for by his father apart from the monthly maintenance. He had a wife and four kids and as expected, his wife hated Mpho, Lesego’s son, and his mother. She was always on Lesego’s case, phoning her at odd hours of the night, and calling her all kinds of names especially when it was time to pay for Mpho, and when her husband was not home at night.

In between their back and forth bickering with the wife, Lesego got an idea on how she could provide for her children better. It worked out and she was able to put a good roof over their heads, clothes on their back and food in their stomach. She built a 10 roomed house, her kids could wear designer clothes from time to time, and her youngest daughter Koketso was in a private school in town.

In her teen years, Goitsemang had become a rebel, and it was starting to rub off Mpho. Lesego was scared of her, Goitse had become a short fused diva, she would not help around the house and if she was not locked in her room, she would be out with boyfriend till the wee hours of the night.

Goitse was always on her phone and going around the house saying she was “in demand”. She thought she was the answer to all men, a goddess that no man could say no to. Goitse wore the tiniest outfit and when Lesego would ask her to put something else on or cover up, Goitse would be Goitse and not care who was around, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy… she just ran her mouth. She cursed at her mother like she was nothing.

Goitsemang would tell her mom that she had her time in her days and should just let her live hers how she saw fit. Goitse sometimes stayed out all night and only came back the next day in the afternoons, without her mother knowing where she was. Mpho was also starting to go off the rails, luckily Lesego’s lawyer caught him early even though it was by accident. He came over one evening to drop off some papers for Lesego and found Mpho passed out in the garage. He noticed his legs through a half opened garage door, and when he approached for a closer look, found Mpho laying on the floor breathing very shallowly.

He picked him up and drove off with him, and later phoned Lesego to inform her that Mpho was staying with him for a couple of weeks as he needed help painting the back wall of his yard.