From an early age (primary school), I developed the mentality that I would never be academically excellent. Now this might have set the trajectory of minimum expectations in the long run, but no matter how hard I tried, what I studied never… stuck. I never practiced my timetables, historical dates, geographic terminologies all seem to evaporate in the light of a quiz or class test. Although I read (a lot – mainly fiction and novels at school during break). I could never even make the top 20 in a class of 21. Don’t get me wrong. I passed. Barely. I remember when my primary school introduced the top 10 awards. Every end of the month, students who received exceptional marks where awarded in front of the whole school. Man, what I would have given to be called up? But never was. It was never communicated to me how other students continually got called up for full colors, half colors etc. I thought you got them because you where “colourful” (what does that even mean? lol – that I wasn’t colorful enough?). In my youth, I thought if I sat up straight, smiled hard (colorful) enough maybe, just maybe someone will recognize how hard I was trying inside and outside of the classroom.
I sang louder during assemblies. Wore matching white socks, brushed my knotty hair until one day, I said. Fuck It! Fuck it to hell!. When I stopped caring, I stopped sitting alone in the family bath (with the lights off), staring at my dark reflection in that dark room. Was I suicidal? Nahhhh. I just hated everything and everyone.
It’s a little easier to excel when you don’t have to do chores. Wash dishes, cook, wash those dishes, mop the floor, clean, fetch siblings, feed siblings, sweep the yard, wash you and your sibling’s laundry, wash them, sweep, mop, polish and vryf the stoep, the venster banks, wash the windows the curtains, the pots, *o duletsing, ema, biya, phutha, tlosha, isha, tlisha!!! I promise you, it felt like my mom would make up chores when she caught me catching my breath (a.k.a sitting down).
This is the tale of the eldest child in a single parent household.
By the time I am done with chores the time is 10:30pm. The next morning I have to be up early to look out for my siblings, help them get ready in order to wait for the lift club hooting outside in the streets at about 5:30am. Then we go around the hood collecting all the other kids in order to be at school before the bell rings. Now when exactly was I supposed to really, truly focus on my studies?
Most would say “**ne ke rata strata”.. I just, needed a break, sometimes.
I remember just feeling exhausted. An exhaustion that couldn’t be wished away with a good night sleep.
I looked forward to grade four, because this was the year we went to Veld School for a weekend. I couldn’t wait!!! I prayed to God that they didn’t cancel the excursion. I couldn’t sleep that night, I couldn’t wait for the bus to start moving. By Saturday, some of my classmates where in tears because they missed home. Come Sunday I was in tears because I had to go back home.
I developed a habit of sleeping over at friends’ houses just to get a break.
WOW!! My friends at school lived the life!! I envied them. Not on the surface but deep in the center of me. One such friend, a white girl, her chores included;
- Take off school uniform and place it is the basket
- Homework at 5:30-6:30
- TV/play from 6:30 till 7pm
- Dinner at 7pm
- A little more TV/play
- Sleep by 9:30
!!!
My friends couldn’t understand why I just wanted to sleep when I came over. When all they wanted to do was talk all night. This form of escape, wasn’t working for me.
Since distinctions where far and few in-between, the next available outlet was sport. Netball, Soccer, hockey, volleyball, baseball, high jump (short as I was, I came second three years in a row!! First price went to a freakishly tall girl in my grade). Long jump, tennis, drum majorettes I TRIED THEM ALL!!! JUST TO GET A BREAK!! I stopped counting the many games we lost or won. I was just happy to be out. To not have to deal. My siblings where getting older but the majority of everything still fell on me. The tone was never, we need to help each other, it was a do it or else! A hiding/beating perpetually floating above my head like the sword of Damocles. I developed this authoritarian disciplinarian role with my siblings too.
I hated being at home because it felt like everyone wanted something from me all the time.
Where was my mom? She was out there doing the most. Working and studying to ensure all of us four kids have a shot at a future. I wished I could speak to her, I wished I could confide in her, I wished she could hear me cry at night, hold me just a little bit longer, I wish she wasn’t so tired all the time, but most of all, I wished she could listen to me, hear me sometimes.
Oh and I wished my grandmother could stop picking on me! Blaming me for everything my siblings spilt, broke, tore or wore. My grandmother came from the age of wearing nice/new clean clothes only when you go somewhere. Sadly some of my new clothes/shoes where never worn because there was never an opportunity to wear them. Its all good because my siblings could wear them. Which still incensed my grandmother because “hey, why you wearing nice clothes with nowhere to go?” “Why is your older sister dressing you in these nice clothes?”. I kinda understood the logic, but the anger behind it was so unnatural it fucked me up.
My dad? M.I.A.
I failed my siblings. I hurt my siblings. I was absent when I should have been very much present. My heart hurts at the hate and rage I felt when all I needed was a break from EVERYTHING! A day, an hour maybe, just to collect my thoughts and discover me (selfish much? – You better believe it!!). My mom did her best. Sacrificed a lot. Put us first in everything. Wearing rags just so that we can eat. I am forever eternally grateful to her and to God. And honestly, I am grateful for the hard lessons because, it could have been so much worse.
Yet…
Today?
I still wish I could REALLY talk to her.
Instead, I am still running… In search of a break…
Oh, before I forget. I eventually DID get an award. The coveted Sports woman of the year award!!! Too bad, that night I said “Fuck it to the deepest parts of hell!!”. I went to sleep. And I never got to walk across that stage.
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ATT: future husband? I have done enough cooking, cleaning and care taking to last me a lifetime!! I am officially retired! Swipe left….
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*”o duletsing, ema, biya, phutha, tlosha, isha, tlisha!!! – why are you sitting chilling), stand up, put that/this away, pack this/that away, remove this/that, take this/that, bring this/that. Very aggressive directives one after the other. Every day!
**”ne ke rata strata” – direct translation “I loved being the streets”
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Thank you mama..
Pilzy Lee 