My door suddenly open and it startled us!
“Why don’t you ever knock? This is my room and it’s rude not to do that!”
I said angrily.
I might not live at home anymore but coming home for weekend’s means you also have to contend with family in the guise of sibling. With me I only had one sister who was younger than me. I would like to say that she looked up to me but she did not. It’s kind of hard if your little sister is much smarter than you. I know everyone wants to say that their younger sibling is so smart just to keep face or feel relevant but my little sister was the real deal. She was so smart she was special and I was a bit jealous of her. It’s one of those things where if she was in America she would have been attending those schools for the gifted but alas, we live in the one country that thinks intelligence is passing matric fuck everything else. Matric is South Africa is like war to America. They run that thing with such efficiency you would think we are a country of geniuses. Everyone passes firstly and everyone wants to pay for your first year. It’s like an Oprah Winfrey show where she just gives away free matric passes but forgetting that you don’t even have enough universities and worse, if everyone passes, where then is the competition in your education system. With that said she was so smart we all could see her touching stars one day. Regardless, she was a pain in the ass, a tattle tale and a typical little sister! She walked in without me saying come in but I was not surprised as it happened often!
“So you think you are going to go to Dubai and I am just going to sit back and say nothing! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
My little sister said standing in the door way. With all the screaming we had been making I must admit I had totally forgotten that she was in the house. How could I have been so stupid? Don’t get me wrong, I love my little sister but at 16 turning 17 she was already an Honors roll student and was definitely going to be the head girl in her matric. She was book smart, incredibly inquisitive and always had an answer for everything. She was born 1999, I know hey, people are old out here and she had always been a thorn in my back.
“Why are you listening in at our conversations wena Sharon?”
I asked her angrily. This was definitely a problem! My sister was a nuisance. She always had a thing to say.
“I am going to tell mum you are going to Dubai!”
She threatened. Much as I had lost some respect for my mum I still did not want her to know about my extracurricular activities. It’s not correct and I believe that if you are a witch, go bewitch faraway so that the people close to you or next to you can respect you! That’s just me. I know some girls are not scared to flaunt their whorish behaviour at home but I care. My little sister unfortunately was going to spoil that plan.
“Who said we are going to Dubai?”
I asked her angrily.
“That ticket on your bed! I can read it from here! You didn’t think I would notice when a big car comes and parks at our gate?”
She asked me! I was not sure what to say because it’s one of those red handed moments.
“Ok fine we going ke but please don’t tell mum! I will pay you!”
I pleaded with her.
“I don’t want your dirty money. I know you are a lot of things Palesa but this is so beneath you. Now you are going to become those girls doing coprophagia in Dubai for money! I am your sister and I love you. This is not worth it!”
She said and she walked out of the room. What the hell was copro whatever? That’s the problem with these newly educated kids, they always have a new big word to take out and shock us with. I ran after her!
“Come on Sharon, please don’t tell mum. What can I do to make it up to you? A friend of Khanyi’s is the one taking us there and hell no am I going to say no to such an opportunity. Yes it’s a guy and yes he is old but he won’t even be there. It’s a free trip to Dubai Sharon please don’t deny me this!”
I begged her. She sat by her books as she doing some maths homework, sigh! Could my sister really be more boring though? She loved maths and in all honesty who in their right mind loves maths. Maths is like that rich uncle who pays for your fees and the rent in the house that your parents live in but in return he gets to touch you in places he shouldn’t be touching you. Everyone in the house knows he is abusing you but reporting him means that no more school for you nor a place to stay! Yes that’s maths for me! I hated it and even though I had left it back in matric I still remember how much it abused my brain.
“You only fooling yourself Palesa. You think you the first girl to have a blesser! It’s like a drug. It’s nice for a while then once you are addicted you start doing things you will always be ashamed of! I won’t tell mom but you honestly need to reconsider this!”
She said packing up a few books.
“Where are you going?”
I asked her.
“I need to go and study. With you guys screaming and jumping on the bed I can’t concentrate. I am going to study at Aunty Helens house with KG.”
She said. Aunty Helen is my mother’s friend who happens to be married to Malume Morgan who I said I found my mother had either slept with or was still sleeping with. Scandalous I tell you.
“Ok cool then. Thank you for not telling mum though! I really didn’t know what I was going to do if you had because I would have died.”
I told and I meant it. I watched her walk out towards the gate. She was a very purposeful child this one.
“So what happened? I forgot that she was here hey! She is so quiet!”
Khanyi said when I walked in back from my sister’s room. She was on her phone chatting so she just looked up from her phone when I walked in.
“She won’t tell my mum. She promised but with my sister you can never know hey!”
I told her visibly worried.
“Well she must just be strong. If I can fight with my dad then surely you can fight with your mum!”
She told me and she was right. I loved this about her. She had stopped apologizing for living her life something which I still could not do.
“One day I will but for now I respect my mum!”
I told her. She knew when to back off but had a way of planting a seed in your head. What if I could just tell my mother where to get off though? It would make life so much easier but truth be told, she was paying for my fees and come what may I wanted that degree. For me that was super important above all else.
“What time are we leaving?”
She asked me. We had to go back to campus as tomorrow it was back to school. I even had a test scheduled for tomorrow imagine. Who does that mara? Universities are designed in such a way that they have many tricks.
“I think we should leave early. Around 5 so that there is still time to go out if something comes out!”
She added before I could even say anything. I was not in disagreement because you know when you go back home even for a weekend it feels as though you are being told to go and die. There is no life at home as you have to respect the space you are in. My mother was not super strict but when you stay in Pretoria North you must as well be living in Hamanskraal. It’s a culture on its own and it’s a farm. There are two roads in and out of this place which we have to share with people from Mamelodi and trust me on this, going out at night is not something you take lightly! There is crime, drunk drivers and funny looking guys who want to touch you if you walk past them forcing us to prefer clubbing in Pretoria East or Jhb. Going to school in Jhb then is heaven for someone like me. Make no mistake about it, Pretorians who think now that Menlyn is FINAALY being extended or because Ramokgopa is giving us free Wi-Fi Pretoria is now better that Jhb, slow down! E ma pele! Just sit down and hold yourself! We are glorified Polokwane with more street lights and poor white people, sigh! Going out therefore was a priority when I went back but never a though when I was home. We are chillaz people not clubbing people and I am sorry, waiting for my parents to leave town just so I can have friends over was not my idea of fun.
“Must we call an Uber then? It will take us to Bosman then from Bosman we take the train and another Uber from Park Station to campus!”
She suggested! Uber in Pretoria North? All these traffic lights must be confusing her because it’s not only far but also expensive. The only thing missing her was a toll gate to just show how far we are.
“Are you sure? Can’t we just call Neo?”
I asked her. She laughed!
“I thought you would never ask. I didn’t want to bring it up because didn’t want you to think that I am taking advantage!”
She responded. I had fallen for that one and didn’t even see it coming.
“Baby, can you come pick us up to campus?”
I asked him.
“I am still in Vaal but I will come!”
He said. Vaal is far hey. I felt bad but the point is Neo was that guy who would do anything for me. I know this with all my heart.
“Ah love no you are too far. I will make a plan!”
I told him but he would hear none of this!
“No baby, you always come first. I am coming. The boys are still drinking but they can wait. I have a wife I miss and I am coming to her!”
He said and he hung up. I felt guilty about this but when Khanyi cracked a joke I moved on to the next topic!
Michael Nkululeko Maphoto
This letter is to speak to the brutal hash criticism.
It’s amazing how blunt people can be when they don’t agree with the stories, diary is open to criticism its open to engagement.
Every person deserve a humble constructive criticism. The ladies are the first to be harsh gun blazing, while they too as readers expect a positive criticism, think about it, you don’t appreciate and you do feel unappreciated if your partner, husband, boyfriend will bluntly tell you your food is shit. The bluntness discard the fact that you had taken time to prepare the meal out of love and yes it may not be that tasty but you don’t deserve to be brutally criticize like that.
Diary writers take time to write these stories, it may not be relevant, it may not be appealing to all of the readers but there’s no harm for people to express that they not feeling it the sheer entitlement of brutal criticism is not fair at all.
At home you want your parents/siblings/lovers to be kind with words. It’s our basic need to be respected and be guided with love and care, I therefore urge and beg and ask that the readers be kind enough to be honest when they don’t enjoy the story, be positive when you give feedback but to use brutal words is unkind and unfair .
Diary offers willing writers the opportunity to do just that, write. Imagine a world of we don’t want anyone to write except mike. What would have been the contribution of Mike? He gives others an opportunity and the risk is that it may work or it may not but one thing for sure is that an opportunity was given and a writers have explored their capabilities its up to us the readers to enjoy and be able to guide and share that its not realistic.
Let’s remember the blog gives us the opportunity to interact with the writer daily unlike movies and tv drama where we never bond with the directors or script writers. They never really get the chance to hear our opinion about their work while at this blog its as close as it gets. We are so close to the people that teach us and we interact with them daily.
Let’s be a family of love care fun laughter and fights are there, but sheer brutality is so unkind.
With the above I am sad to announce that Growing Up Relevant will be coming to an end this weekend. Unfortunately Khanyi is no longer comfortable posting as the criticism was indeed a bit much. We tried to convince her and her sentiments were quite heart breaking as to how she felt after all the comments.
I would like to thank her for her contribution to our family and apologize for what she experienced.