THE OTHER BROTHER
CHAPTER 44
THE DAY OF THE FUNERAL
DUMISA
I thought I was going to come here. I have already told myself that I will not be sending my mother off. But my heart couldn’t let me. Entering the gates feels like I am entering a house I don’t even know. A house I am not familiar with. I take a deep breath and walk towards the house. Everyone is up and down preparing for the day. I walk in the house, and everyone is minding their own business. Thabi told me to come directly to mother's bedroom. There is a letter that she found that she assumes belongs to me. They found the letter while she was cleaning.
“Girls.” I greet them. Their eyes look puffy and swollen. I know they have been crying. I feel bad that I was not here for the past few days.
“Babana.”
I sit on the bed and sigh. I suddenly feel heavy. Yes, my mother was old, but I was not ready to lose her. Thabi gave me the letter.
“We found this while cleaning. It has your name on it, so I kept it safe.”
“What is in here?” I ask.
“We did not read but we noticed that it is a letter written to you.” I nod my head and put it in my pocket. I will read it when I get time.
I decided to stand in the mountains and read through the letter. Everything is foreign to me but then again, all the action was there. The treatment, being outcasted at all times. A few tears drop and I struggle to breathe. What can I say. Life has a way of showing me flames. Now I wish I never knew who my father really.
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It is her send off. I didn’t agree. I was ready to say goodbye to my mother, but I shined my shoes, pressed my clothes and put on a tie. The funeral director pulled over into that same car park along with the hearse and their cars for the immediate family. The same guy put on his hat and walked into the road with his cane. He gave a brilliant walk - for a person who is walking with a cane. We got to the service, and he stopped and got out and walked the hearse in a very traditional style. I could see friends and family in the funeral home through the glass. Got out of the car. Mum’s coffin was on a trolley, and I had practiced that I will not cry no matter what. I have to stay strong – I know that would have been what she wanted. It is a very difficult time for everyone. Parents just do not live as long as their children, so children have to go through that in life. What has comforted me at a funeral service, was how many OTHER people were there, each for their own reasons, but to honor the deceased with their presence, it’s like a last “goodbye.” Difficult, yes, but it can be a measure of comfort. My mother’s funeral is difficult, of course, but I had been gone from home a long time. This is extremely difficult. It just worsened the grief we already felt. But in other ways, it was a tremendous help to know her better and how deeply others loved and respected her.
I am standing at the back of the tent looking at everyone. It still feels unreal. I feel my chest closing. Not because my mother has left me. But because of what she went through. Looking at my uncle I feel my whole-body boil in anger. I shake my head and control what I feel inside. My ranting thinking is being disturbed by my cold uncle with his wise funny words.
“You are in our prayers, God Bless. May your mother rest in peace and continue to guide your way in life. Losing a parent is never easy, may you find solace in the lovely memories you shared with your mother. Suffering the loss of your mother pains and stings unlike anything else...”
I can’t stand here and listen to this shit. I walk out of the tent. They will meet me at the graveyard!
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Her funeral was the best. No one has ever seen me, and I believe they think that I did not make it to the funeral. I am here well and kicking. Everyone is seated in the dining room. The sun has not even set yet. My mother was buried not so long along, and the family is deciding who stays behind and who gets to take what? Over my dead body will that ever happen.
“Where were you when she was living here all alone? Has one of you ever decided to check upon on her just to see if she was alive, and okay? Today your fucken people are here claiming what belongs to her kids.” I hiss.
“Mshana...”
“Vala umlomo wakho sikhohlakali. Do not test my patience.” I feel like spewing all my vomit on him.
“Kahle ndodana ngolaka. Kad...”
“Yey! You do not get to tell me what to do. You people are all evil. You knew very that my mother was being molested by this man throughout and she ended up conceiving me. How cruel can you people be?” I see the shock written on their faces including the cold Ngcobo. I took the letter out of my pocket and threw it at Ngcobo. “Nawe all along you knew. The blackmail that you have been laying on the table. How cruel can you be? Blackmailing your own mother just to get what you want? Do you know they trauma she went through because of this man? I still find it hard to b live that we share the mother.”
I feel tears filling my eyes. It’s the pain that I am in. “I remember how I always asked my mother who my father was. I was told that he died in car accident. And that the family never wanted me. I remember how she always told me to never raise an issue with anyone from this family because you hated her. How can you hate someone for being raped! How stupid can all of you be. You know what, I wish your kids to be raped multiple times. I curse every generation of your kids.” My chest is rising up and down in anger. I see everyone’s eyes pop out. I am dead serious. I do not care what the consequences are. I look at Sixakekile and he is failing to even look at me in the eye. Such a coward. Such a disappointment of a brother. Why did he not die the time he was born?
“And wena.” I point out at him. “You will die and the hands of your own family.” With that said I leave them seated. I want to have fresh air. Tears gushing out one after another. If I do not die out of heart attack today, then that means I am beyond strong.
