A touching story

Shambles 

Drusilla. A. Talawa

South Africa, 1999

It’s the year 1999, the month of April in Cape Town, South Africa; a few years after apartheid was banned and everything seemed just fine. It reminds me of a book I read called ‘Bliss in the Blues’. I’m a 15-year old teenage girl called Untunkwa Selius and I live with my dad who is called Mufasa Selius and my mom who is called Meredith Selius. My mom is from England and my dad is from South Africa so that makes me a half-cast. The story about how they met is truly fascinating; which explains why I don’t know my grandparents because they moved back to England right after I was born. I’m an only child so my parents give me all the attention that I enjoy most of the time, but sometimes they tend to go a little bit over the limit. My dad is an amazing man-don’t get me wrong about that-but sometimes he can be over-protective. He is very fun; he always has something causative to say in one of his many conferences; he is very supportive; he takes me out to various restaurants; he takes me to the beach very often and we just sit and stare at the clouds for hours in silence.

The 25^th of April is a remarkable day that I will surely never forget; this is when my life turned upside down. I’m the kind of girl who gets anything I desire; from clothes, to shoes and many accessories but I’m definitely not a spoiled brat. My dad came home from work this very day and I could sense that something was wrong, mostly because he didn’t hug me when he walked into the house. He said, “Hi Untunkwa, how was your day?” and without waiting for my reply he deliberately went upstairs into the master bedroom. At night I could hear him and my mom arguing, I never eavesdrop on any of their conversations but today I knew that something was terribly wrong, so I followed my instincts. All I remember hearing my dad repeatedly saying ‘crisis’ and ‘we have to move’ after a month we had to move to a more urban part of Cape Town compared to the spacious mansion that we used to live. I also had to move schools and my dad was constantly depressed, his breath constantly smelt of cheap beer.

He and my mom always had these little arguments that rouse into even bigger arguments. As he walked in at midday I could see from the look on his face that he was fed up. He sent me to the supermarket to get a few snacks and when I got back I found my mom’s body lying on the ground decapitated; I shrieked and immediately bent down on my knees and wept for several hours, the pain was unbearable. I shouted out to my dad but there was no response. I could sense that something odd was going on because the house was surprisingly quite. I went downstairs in search for him. I found him peering through a baking oven; at first I thought he was fixing it as he usually does. He wasn’t moving; I peered at the oven and found that it was on. What I was yet to see was extremely horrid; I wasn’t sure what to do strange thoughts were running through my mind. I felt a surge of extreme anxiety and confusion. There was a letter clipped to his shirt, I unclipped it. 

The letter read, “Dear Untunkwa I know that you probably hate me for killing your mother. I did it unintentionally; I was so tired of her complaints about the financial crisis. I am truly sorry, I love you my dear please forgive me! Goodbye.”  There was a phone number at the bottom and the name ‘Grandparents’. As I read each and every word I could feel myself slowly loosing control over my mind and my body, I felt weak and dizzy…and I slowly started to loose my consciousness. I could hear dogs barking from a distance and I woke up with a start. I glanced at my watch it was 5:30 pm in the evening I couldn’t believe that I had been half dead and half asleep for that long.

 I went upstairs grabbed a cloth and covered my mothers body and then raced back down stairs to do the same for my dad. I grabbed my cell phone and called the ambulance and the police. As I waited for their arrival I thought that this would be a good time to contact my grandparents. I told them what was going on and they sounded terrified but they told me that they would be at the house in a few hours and that I shouldn’t worry.

All my life, I lived to believe that my parents were always going to be there for me. I felt betrayed, guilty all these mixed emotions all at once. I felt like my life was in shambles; I felt alone even though I had so many people around me. I felt like I was being sucked into a big black hole. As I looked in my mom’s coffin I couldn’t help but feel disgusted. It was a sickening sight; once again in felt like the Earth was falling apart. Right beside her was my dad he looked even worse his face had black patches I could barely even see his eyes. I said a prayer for them and put a bible in each of their coffins. I held back the tears because I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry. I decided not to believe any of this was happening and a moment from now I would wake up and my parents would be full of life. We would go to the beach and they would get me an ice-cream sundae and I would be the happiest girl. I tried blocking out the reality of the situation but then again reality continues to ruin my life. One day I would learn to live with this guilt and anguish which at the moment felt impossible.

I met my grandparents; they seemed like very warm and welcoming people. My grandmother held my hand throughout the funeral. I knew that things were never going to be the same. My grandmother’s eyes met mine, I walked up to her and she said, “ Untunkwa you are a beautiful girl promise me that you will never blame yourself for anything that’s happened for you will be a great leader like Dinuzulu kaCetshwayo.” I nodded. I always wonder how she was able to be so strong and encouraging even at times of great dismay, she is a very strong Zulu woman. 

The people who had attended the funeral all looked unhappy but deep down I knew that the pain I was feeling was a mere stranger to them. My dad didn’t mean as much to them as he did me; they were just as my dad used to describe them ‘business partners’ and nothing more or nothing less. He always used to tell me that nothing would come between the two of us, he told me he would be there on my High School Graduation, he told me about just how proud he would be to send me his first and only daughter to college someday life partners more like best friends but now when I think about all these promises I feel even more sad because none of these things were possible so long as the sky is blue.

At that moment I hugged my grandmother. I certainly didn’t want to loose her. All I could think of was my father, and the letter that he wrote to me a few minutes after he had murdered my mother out of anger. I decided to forgive him by making a list of all the good things and bad things he hade done for me. The good things outweighed the bad things so I decided that it would be best to forgive him. When I went to my grandparents mansion in England which is where I’ve been living. I read the letter again and strange as it is I could feel his presence in the room but I knew it was only my imagination. I decided not to let a soul know about this letter, I’ve kept it hidden for years and am determined to keep it that way until the day I die. The words he wrote in that letter will forever be in my heart

It’s been about 10 years since that dreadful day; I still remember everything so vividly as though it was just yesterday that I had to attend my parents’ funeral. I love my life even though there are some traits of unhappiness, in three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on as I learned from my grandparents who are the most loving and caring people I’ve ever met. They are over-protective which can sometimes be embarrassing but I love them because they make me feel special. I had to get back up on my feet and move on. Maybe even some day get married to a great Zulu man like my grandmother’s icon Dinuzulu kaCetshwayo and have a family who I can tell this story about how my life turned upside down in just a blink of an eye