Chapter 1: The Workshop!

508 26 2
                                    

              "Tell me how to be in this        
                  world, tell me how to
               breath and feel no hurt"
                     - James Bay —Us

             ___________________________

UKHONA MTHEMBU

Every particle in this world collides for a reason. The water particles have to collide with sugar particles to blend a delicious and sweet sugar solution. I'm sure the process of breaking bonds and forming bonds with a spoon to create that drink is also not easy. Everything happens for a reason. It might be for the better or worse. Probably the latter when karma finally finds your mother's new address and burns the house down. Only to find that your mother isn't home, so you're the only one who gets burn.

The reason why I say mother instead of me it is because I seem to be the one who always suffer from the consequences of her decisions. Maybe if I was born into a stable marriage or family, raised by both my mother and father, things would've turn out differently. But then, this is reality and not some fictional fantasies. And the worst of them all, this is South Africa, a country with a high percentage of teanage pregnancy as well as single parents, mostly single mothers. Well, I am a product of teenage pregnancy and I was raised by a single mother of course. All of her siblings are married, my two uncles and aunt Nomusa. Maybe she's just not a wife material type but a working independent woman, I don't know, it's even my business to mind.

She's the world best mom, I've got to say. She tries by all means to give me the best life. Despite her being a mere teacher-well maybe who's also owning a small internet Cafe by the mall exit gate of which does not generate that much money-I went to a private school. I went to Jozini Primary, even though I did the eighth grade at Sinethezekile High School,  I did grade nine to eleven at Mandla Mthethwa School Of Excellence. I wasn't a boarder so she had to pay for transport on top of the school fees. I don't know how she managed but I'm grateful. She's always available emotionally , financially, physically even academically as well. I'm such a blessed brat.

In January, she was hired by one of the biggest companies in Durban since she studied BCom and did PGCE to qualify as a teacher. I'm happy for her but I'm not happy with the moving and transferring of schools. It's been a month and a week since the school year started and I am to start at a new school, Curro Heritage House Independent School, on Monday. It's a lot to take in. I am from a small town, Jozini, in the northern part of KZN in a township of Emakhonyeni. So I don't even know if I am going to survive this city life thing.
I am not even from a rich family to start with. My grandmother just inherited a tavern from her late husband and owns a small kitchen by the taxi rank and that is all we have to survive, well and my mother's salary of course. At least kids back in my former high school were not that discriminative, as long as your parents had a certain qualification-a teacher, nurse, social worker, etc-you were good to go. Not to mention if you're a doctor's child you'd be some sort of VIP or something. But I don't know what to expect from some rich city kids when I am from the ghetto?

Academically, I am not that bad but socially, I suck. I hardly make friends because I have social anxiety and...insecure. Yes, I am insecure. My skin is too dark for my likings. I have a slim body yet my boobs are big-too big for my body-and fallen. Well, as for my ass, it's not big nor small for my body yet smaller for my breasts. Still don't qualify for the big booty and nice body gang! I look nothing like my mother, except for the slim body. She's brown-skinned, —lighter than me —curvy and beautiful.

I really wish we were that mother and daughter goals-looking alike and all' that. I really wish I was better at the things I do but I seem to be complicating the situation.

The Two Of UsWhere stories live. Discover now