UNWAVERING TRUST

My journey starts in the humble settings of Edenvale. A small dusty town with closely woven houses and no back yards. Kids running on the street to create their own versions of childhood, and brothers discovering newfound urgency in highly risky experiments. Not the kind that motivate for empowerment and development but the kind that differentiate between making it out of Edenvale and being trapped in the Ferris wheel.

For me, life was a bliss at that time. Nothing came without it’s struggles, but I could get through it. The unity in suffering, made things slightly better. In a house full of 4 boys and 1 girl, each day made my mom want to pull her hair out, but what could she do? It would be her responsibility till my brothers were mature enough to understand everyone had to pull their weight. She literally cried when I told her the news about my successful application and job offer at the Kingsley Hotel. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be better than watching the sun rise and set without anything tangible to show for it. I couldn’t believe it either. This would be an opportunity for me to make something out of my failed attempts to get work, after graduating, 3 years ago.

I hated seeing the look of agony and despair on her face when I boarded my bus. I believed in her new system, implemented as a trial and error, to manage the house. I knew my brothers wouldn’t conform, but it was worth the try. Over the years I had learnt to make peace with the piles of laundry, piles of dishes and the constant frustration of mopping the floor and having someone blindly walk through, right after, while they scrolled through a social media newsfeed. I wasn’t comfortable with the thought of not being around to assist my mother, but she and I knew this was what was needed. Needed to forge a better life for us. Not a significant change but some change.

My bus arrived in the late afternoon, in the 8pm’s to be exact. All passengers who were offboarding, looked as though they had been battling all forms of exhaustion and fatigue throughout the 8-hour drive. I hadn’t been any different myself, so after I collected my luggage from the carriage trailer, I made my way to the ladies to freshen up. I was highly grateful and excited to have finally arrived. I texted my mother and made a call to Aunt Glenda about my safe arrival.

The streets of Johannesburg supported the glassy gaze in my beady brown eyes. A dazed smile brightened up my face as I admired the skyscrapers, and the groovy tunes that filled the air. Party people seemed to live it up, day and night. That was the beauty of it. No boundaries. No societal norms. Just people doing what they wanted when they wanted and nothing to care for. I had arrived at a new place of comfort. New scenery. A fresh breath. All the things I needed to effectively change my life and make it what I needed it to be. What my family needed.

Johannesburg had come to be a big city. Liberated in its fast-paced life, and all the glamour and prestige that came with living and thriving in the city of gold. I was highly keen on learning the manoeuvres of the intricately complex network. I was fortunate that Aunt Glenda had offered to take me in, while I got settled and tried to find my feet. It took the pressure and anxiety off, stepping into the unknown. It would also be a safer option to get inside information on the best practices and knowledge regarding the ins and outs of the city.

Aunt Glenda and my mom were very close. They had practically grown up together as sisters even though they were cousins. Aunt Glenda had moved in with my mom and grandmother at the age of 8 when she had unfortunately lost her mother and father to an unfortunate crash. You could say she was like my second mom. She’d always be around to babysit or visit when she was still a resident of Edenvale. Even after she had left, my mother and her would share 3 hour calls , catching up on gossip and someone’s fake Tupperware.

Aunt Glenda had done so well for herself. At the age of 23, she had managed to start her business, with the assistance of her ex-husband (love of her life at the time), and they managed to make it out of Edenvale to pursue their lives in the big city. Find new growth opportunities and take Glenda Glamour to new heights, with two more branches in different locations. Aunt Glenda was always a source of inspiration for me, as a kid who wanted to find her purpose in the world. Successful. Fearless. Beautiful and smart but more importantly free and independent. She was madly in love with her husband, but even he knew the boundaries of his extent, on such a fierce woman.

I could see her waving at me, as a signal for me to come over as soon as my moment of awe had ended. She had always cared to explain to my mom about the crimes and awfully harsh interactions of e-Jozi, which left my mother highly panicked when she learnt about my needed relocation. The indication of urgency had reminded me of the many warnings’ mom had given me before my departure. It would be for my own good. But I still figured she was just being overly protective, and it couldn’t possibly be so bad.

“Aunt Glenda!!” I said, as I reached out to give her a hug. My suitcases were only a meter away, just waiting to be loaded into the car and on our way we’d go. We had both leaned in to embrace one another. I was so excited to have finally arrived and she was excited to see me. All attempts over the years for us to visit her in Johannesburg, were met with unfortunate circumstances. From us missing our bus, to my brother’s school commitments and lastly my father’s untimely passing, which had diverted our concentration to the unwarranted situation. She would finally be able to see how well I had grown, and what an exceptional young lady I was shaping out to be.

Amid the affectionate moment, I could feel a swooshed breeze, as a man rushed to snatch my suitcase from behind and jetted down the street with his fast legs and no consideration for the heinous act that would render me with no change of clothing. “Stop!! Stop!! Hayibo!! Mbambeni!!” I shouted in agony. Completely hopeless, as onlookers stood there trying hard to observe without being noticed. I could feel the trauma sink in and the beauty of the city simultaneously sink in the background and fade into the darkness that lurked in its corners.

Aunt Glenda tried consoling me about taking me to go shopping for new clothes at the mall, but I still pondered about who would be wearing my chic pieces or if they would be pairing them right. I was highly grateful for her gesture but took to heart the emotional connection I had with some of my items. One of my favourite shirts was a shirt I had thrifted from my dad. He loved wearing it until I had paired it perfectly with a boyfriend jean and things were never the same after. Technically, he didn’t get it back and that would be one of the last things I would have of him.

As I was daydreaming about the unfortunate dilemma, it shortly came to my realisation that I had no time to obsess over clothes lost or how traumatized I should have been, to learn the uncomfortable truth about the city’s crimes. I had left Edenvale with one purpose, and it would be in my very will to rightfully and successfully accomplish it.