Johannesburg – She wiped my bum when I soiled myself as a baby.
She cradled me when I was knee-high to a grasshopper and had a penchant to bawl my lungs out.
My mother’s sister exited two weeks ago.
She was 70 years old and strong as a horse.
Even at that ripe old age, she would wake up at the crack of dawn, clean the house and rustle breakfast for us.
She had never been sick despite for a few comorbidities in tandem with her advanced age. I hadn’t seen her in two years until her neighbour called and said she hadn’t seen her in three days, which was unusual. I drove to her Parys abode with my aunt, who found her alone and bed-ridden.
She was bathed and prepared for a doctor’s consultation. I expected them to carry her to the car as her condition had deteriorated, but she insisted on walking herself to the car.
She staggered to the car in uncertain steps but I was pacifi ed when she recognised me and even cracked jokes like her old self.
“Vusumuzi, is that you my child? There’s no way I’m getting in a car driven by a tsotsi like yourself,” she said.
I was having none of it. I opened the door for her and she declined my offer to help her into the car.
She put on her mask and off we went to the doctor.
The conversation was muted and she apologised for troubling us. Imagine that!
After her consultation, I drove her home and unfortunately had to leave the same day.
She assured me she would be alright and I promised to visit her in December to show her my new bike.
She was shocked I planned to buy a bike, given my drinking.
Two days later, she was admitted to hospital.
Four days later, she bowed out.
Last weekend, we laid her to rest in accordance with Covid-19 protocols that allow only 50 mourners at a funeral.
A river (Vaal) runs through Parys, the home of suspended ANC secretary-general Ace Magashule.
However, the taps are dry but for one day of the week, and it’s been like that for years.
A Jojo tank was organised to ensure the ladies who wash and rinse the intestines of a beast have enough.
Mamogolo was allowed to sleep at her house for the last time as hers was not a Covid-19 death.
In the morning, my brother and I were tasked with opening the coffin to allow mourners to see her for the last time.
It occurred to me how fortunate we were to see our dearly departed for the last time, as Covid-19 has robbed so many of the opportunity. Lala kahle Mthimkhulu, Bhungane.
I will not drink and ride.
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