Chapter 2
A gentle wind was blowing softly against her bedroom window, accentuating the subtlety of the morning air. The sun was peeping through the curtain, settling its rays peacefully on her forehead. Lorato opened her sleepy eyes and blinked a couple of times to make sure that her freshly conscious mind was not imagining the image of her old room at her parents' house. She was not dreaming. Lorato did not remember the last time she had slept so peacefully throughout the whole night without waking up in between to think about her troubled life.
She let out a yawn before snuggling deeper into her blankets. She was home.
Her mother had welcomed her back into her life without hesitation. Lorato was kind of surprised at the reception her mother gave her the previous night when she arrived from the city. It was as if she had been expecting her or something. She was calm and collected, not hinting the possibility of a breakdown. Lorato set her blankets aside after having thoughts of her mother. They had not spoken much the previous night. Lorato was so exhausted both physically and mentally. Her mother noticed that too and ordered her to bed. She sat up and grabbed her watch off the dresser next to her bed. The time had just passed seven. She wanted to make breakfast, just like she used to when she was younger. According to tradition, the girl child should get up early to do household chores including making breakfast. Even though she was not a child anymore, she wanted to do everything in her power to get things back to normal again. She was still so tired though. Another hour of sleep would not hurt.
Her room was still the same, except for a few odd boxes. It smelled like fresh linen, which was piled on some chairs, mixed with settled dust. But it had not changed much. She noticed how they still kept her posters on her wall- posters of reggae artists of the '90s, her furry carpet, and the deep purple floral curtains. She smiled a little. Lorato then got out of bed, snuggling her toes on her furry carpet before she got up. The sensation on her toes gave her a calming effect. But she was still nervous. She wasn't sure of how the aftermath of her return would be like. Now she had to explain ten years of her life to her family. Something inside her also made her feel like a visitor in her own home.
Lorato walked to the kitchen playing a game of 'what's changed or hasn't changed about the house'. Her mother was in the kitchen, washing pots.
"Good morning Lorato, did you sleep well?" asked her mother, not turning her attention away from the dirty pots.
"Yes ma'am… I did. Thank you again for um, letting me in," she replied.
"Sit, I'm making porridge for breakfast."
"Sounds good. Do you need any help?" she asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Her mother did not reply. Instead, she pulled out a small pot from the cabinet and filled it water. Lorato watched her mother working in the kitchen, she was unsure of her own current state of mind. It was hard to make out whether she was happy, confused, scared or sad. All of this made her head hurt. But most of all she was still nervous. She wasn't sure which buttons to push, what to suggest, what to say. Easing into a conversation with her mother was something she was no longer familiar with. She was a stranger to her own mother. She should not have gone to the city with him in the first place. She should have never left home and rebelled against her family. At an attempt to get her mind in check she twiddled her thumbs, thinking of how she was allowing her regrets take over all the composure she had regained thus far.
"Lorato, are you alright? You seem a little distant?" asked her mother.
"No, I'm alright- I'm okay ma," she replied. Her body had gone into an almost spontaneous form of shivering that she could not control.
"I thought that I should make a delicious meal today to celebrate your homecoming, instead of just boring old porridge." Gloria smiled, holding on to a chequered dishcloth she was wiping the pots with. The smile made a sort of glint in her eyes. It seemed as if she was also unsure of what to say to Lorato, how to act like things were normal again. She was trying.
"That's alright. Can I help?" Lorato returned the same wanting smile.
"You must be starving seeing as you were not hungry last night before you went to bed."
Part of Lorato wished her mother would leave her alone and not make her talk, just for a little while. She wanted to maybe sit in silence with her mother, and just look at her- study her in her thoughts. But she could not bring herself to order her mother away, after all she had done for her. Her mother had accepted her back into her house and she was offering to cook for her, to celebrate. Wishing was the only thing she could do.
"I am fine, ma, I'm good. Besides, I don't have much of an appetite anyway." she replied anxiously. The kitchen table was very old. It still bared the scrapings on the edges she and her sister used to make when they did not feel like cooking. Her mother used to get very angry when she discovered the fresh marks on her table. Lorato gently stroked the marks and smiled to herself.
"Nonsense, you must eat, I'm going to make you something else to eat besides porridge, I mean for breakfast." her mother asked again wiping a pan from a basin that she used to wash the pots in.
"You know, ma, I'm not hungry, maybe later," she replied stroking her stomach, feeling the hollowness in it.
"Lorato, you said you were not hungry last night, you have to eat something." She lined the counter with a dozen fresh eggs, ignoring what Lorato was saying.
"I know, ma, maybe later," she said in a calm voice.
"Forget it, I am making you something. How about eggs and sausage for breakfast, and then dumplings and beef stew- your favourite- for lunch?"
"Good, that sounds... good." Lorato decided to give up, she had no strength to argue with her mother. She had forgotten how persistent she could be. She was probably trying to rid the room of its tense atmosphere. She had so many questions for Lorato, but she wanted to pretend nothing had happened.
"So ma?" said Lorato, trying to project her voice over the sound of the eggs she was beating.
"Yes dear," she replied, frantically beating away.
"Thank you."
"For what, my child?" asked her mother. She left the eggs to rest on the counter top, and pulled out two bowls to serve the porridge. Soon after she walked over and placed a steaming bowl of porridge in front of Lorato.
Lorato hesitated, pulling her bowl closer and grabbing a spoon. She continued, "You know- for taking me in, after all this time. I have been a terrible daughter to you, and to dad."
Her mother placed her bowl of porridge on the table and took a seat opposite Lorato. She then began shovelling teaspoons of sugar into her own porridge before handing it over to Lorato. The porridge was made from ground sorghum powder, which was fermented using water before being cooked to give it a sour taste.
"Lorato," she finally said, after calming down to eat. "This is your home. No matter where you run off to, it will always be here awaiting your return."
Lorato's eyes glistened from the tears that were slowly building in her eyes. She pushed them back because she did not want to cry, by clearing her throat. Crying would only make things worse. At that moment, Lorato started to appreciate her mother even more. All the love she thought she had for her magnified further at realizing that enemy was actually not the enemy. She smiled while wiping the tiny tears that had settled on the corner of her eyes.
"Where is papa, is he at the cattle post like always? Is he alright with me coming back?" Lorato paused and stirred her porridge slowly. She licked her spoon slightly, testing the temperature of the hot porridge. The sweet and sourness of it migrated so quickly across her tongue, sending her taste buds tingling with pleasure in an almost instant. She really was hungry after all. She continued. "I mean sure he does- if you are okay with it, it must mean that he is also alright with it." Lorato felt nervous. Talking about her father considering the circumstances made her feel a bit uneasy. She still had that last bit of uncertainty lingering at the back of her mind, because she was yet to go through seeing her father for the first time. He was the last obstacle she had to go through before she properly settled back at home and feeling comfortable again.
Lorato's mother stopped eating her meal and looked over at Lorato with a horrified expression on her face. She looked away and scooped some of her porridge and gently swallowed, losing more colour on her face. She then stood from her seat and walked to a drawer in the kitchen. She pulled out a piece of paper, gently closed the drawer and then returned to the table without a word.
"Ma?" Lorato called.
"I thought you knew," her mother finally said. Her voice was subtle, but it seemed as if something was slowly collecting at the back of her throat, suppressing her voice.
"Knew what?" Lorato asked. In her subconscious, she already knew what her mother was going to say, her father was not alive anymore. The look on her mother's face said it all, but she did not want to believe it. Maybe they got divorced and he left the family or something less fatal. Her mother kept on shoving the piece of paper in Lorato's hands. But Lorato did not want to look at it, she just kept focus on her mother's face, trying to linger a little while longer in the moment where she was being naïve.
Her mother started to say something, her eyes also fixed on Lorato. "Two years after you left, your father became very sick. The doctors called it cancer, cancer of the lungs. It was my fault. I should have been stricter when I told him to stop smoking that nonsense in his pipe."
For a moment Lorato was still lingering in space. She could see her mother's lips move, but her words were just hanging over her mind slowly being processed. Her nerves suddenly froze and she felt numb all over, fear and defeat washing over her like a tidal wave. "Oh no-ma." She said under her breath, still looking dumfounded. She waited for her mother to finish her story. She wanted to be sure not to miss out on anything she was saying, just in case the story ended with indeed a divorce and leaving the family.
"They gave him only months to live," her mother continued. She placed the piece of paper in front of Lorato again, almost forcing her to look at it. It was her father's funeral program. There was a picture of him in his favourite checked church suit on the front, and an obituary at the back. "He died six months later."
On the top, it read: FUNERAL PROGRAM FOR MR PHINEAS RAPELANG
And below it read: REST IN PEACE LOVING HUSBAND AND FATHER.
"Oh mother!" said Lorato crumpling the paper at the startling sight of her father's picture on it. It wasn't just any piece of paper- not any paper, like one reporting the news or praising him for his accolades, for being a model citizen- a pillar of the community. It wasn't just any piece of paper. This one was heavy and dark and tainted with certain death- this one was flooded with memories- it was an organization of a funeral. This made Lorato feel a burst of anger. The fire within her engulfed any traces of anxiety- all of her nerves were now burning with anger, and sorrow and regret. These feelings were just fuming out that at some moments she forgot to breath. Not realizing the extent of her heightened emotions, she crumpled the paper further, throwing it on the floor and letting out a loud, violent wail. Her tears singed her face, creating a narrow stream that flowed in the same direction. Lorato got up and unconsciously threw her arms around her mother, burying her face in her bosom, her sobs getting even louder- almost like an African thunder storm- at the comfort of feeling another warm body against hers. "Oh I'm so sorry- I'm so sorry, ma!" she sobbed even more, her words scrambled by her tears. After some moments into her breakdown, she silenced herself in an instant- just like the storm, tears still collecting in her eyes. She was sniffling violently, her face swollen like she'd been bitten by some poisonous creature. She was still gripping onto her mother when she finally said in an almost forced whisper, "I'm so sorry. It's my fault, all of it. All this would have not happened if-"
Her mother interrupted, pushing Lorato back, as if rejecting her. "If you had never run away?" she finally forced Lorato to take her seat. She cleared her voice, but she still sounded like she was choking on tears of her own. Lorato's meltdown had made the scars that had formed after her husband died, fresh flesh exposed wounds in her mind- like it happened just recently. "I know you are my daughter, but I swore that I would never let you back into my life if you missed your father's funeral. I know you left on bad terms with us but I made that promise to myself. I thought you knew of his passing but you were too proud to come back. I promised myself that I would look the other way when you returned, because I knew you would return... one day. Nothing ever comes right for a child who does not listen to their parents, ever!"
It felt like her mother was scolding her, but for once Lorato felt some of the burdens in her heart begin to lift. That was what she wanted, to be yelled at- punished- prosecuted- for leaving home. That's what she was really hoping for- never the news of her father's passing. "I'm so sorry ma," Lorato squealed. She hadn't hoped for any of this. All of the things that were left unsaid before and after she left. She wanted to make peace with both of her parents, especially her father. She wanted so much to redeem the pride he used to have for her in his eyes. She wanted to see him smiling again, because she still held a little sense of hope that he would welcome her back with open arms, instead of resisting her return. She wanted him to scold her as well. Strip down her soul bare and put it back together again, just like a parent should when their prodigal child has come back. She wanted to see his reaction, good or bad. She wanted to know what kind of man her father really was- how he would treat her. Realizing that this would never come to pass- that she'd never see him again; she felt a huge lump in the pit of her stomach. A missing aspect in her heart. It was all her fault. She ran away from home and the consequence of that was that she would never get to say goodbye to her father. With all these thoughts sending her senses into further obscurity, her tears free falling- she hadn't realized her mother had got up and walked up to the kitchen sink. She was staring out through the window, probably trying to avoid Lorato seeing that she had been crying. That was one of the things that hurt Lorato even more, seeing her mother in pain- crying. Lorato got up and walked to the window and embraced her mother again. "I'm really sorry, ma."
"Oh hush that mouth of yours!" she said brushing Lorato away once again. Gloria's eyes were glistening but she would not allow any tears to fall. "I made a promise to myself- you were dead to me! But when I saw you last night, with the night light making your eyes to sparkle, everything got erased and I saw your father in those eyes. I had never noticed how much you looked like him before, you know- I thought you had more of me in that face of yours." She sat back down leaving Lorato standing at the window. "I thought you knew, all this time. I had hate in my heart. But I guess that it's true what they say: you can never hate your own child, even if they betray you."
"I didn't know ma. I'm really sorry," said Lorato, a slight stammer having formed in her voice.
"Would you stop apologising Lorato, it wasn't your fault he died. Your father would have had cancer even if you had never run away."
"I know, it wasn't my fault, I know that. It's just that coming back here was all about making things right with you and dad and my sister, Dineo." Lorato leaned against the kitchen sink, her face even puffier than before. She looked out the window again. "I think I will take a walk outside, is that okay? I just- I need- I don't understand why bad things keep happening to me," she said, a new wave of tears threatening to appear.
"Yes-yes, of course! You can take all the time you need," replied her mother, rushing over to unlock the kitchen door. "He loved you, you know," continued Gloria, giving Lorato a squeeze on her shoulder before she stepped out.
All Lorato could remember was the disappointed look in her father's eyes. That was the last time she saw him. She had managed to deplete their warmth and liveliness they possessed through her actions. She remembered him as being a kind and generous man whose life was highlighted by the love he had for his kids. Disappointing someone like her father was something she'd spend her whole life trying to make up for. And now he was gone, it made it even harder.
The sun was high in the sky and it was as scorching as ever. Lorato held her hand against her face to protect it from its powerful rays. Meropeng had not changed much. A couple odd new shops were built along the gravel road. These shops provided necessities to the civilians like the basic food stuffs. Other than that, the place was still secluded and small. Lorato had missed the comfort and protection that was displayed by the hill. It stood tall and silent. Like it knew that she was pain and it wanted to say something reassuring to her- as if hills could talk. She looked around at it and took in a deep whiff of the fresh air. She was tired of running away and had to get more answers. She had to fill the void the presence of her father would have filled if he were alive. Lorato wanted to feel the satisfaction, the reassurance that indeed, her father would have forgiven her after her return- that he did love her that much. She felt some more stinging in her nasal area, more tears free falling- silent tears this time. She did nothing to stop them.
It was the first time she saw her house in day light seeing as she arrived in the dark the previous night. Nothing had changed. She had wandered off outside their compound. Lorato opened the gate and went straight into the house, to her mother. She was still in the kitchen, preparing a meal. Lorato could smell the wonderful aroma from her favourite meal being put together. She had not had a proper meal to eat in ages. Her mother was chopping some carrots. Lorato went straight to her mother and gave her a huge hug. Her mother hugged her back. Feeling a little light headed from all the crying, Lorato went back to her room to lie down and cry some more.
At lunch time her mother went into her room and summoned her to the kitchen so that she would eat something. Lorato had managed to cry herself to sleep. She leaned on the kitchen table while her mother was adding the finishing touches to her cooking.
"I'm really sorry for all the pain I caused you, ma," she finally said. "You and my father and everyone involved."
"Sit, Lorato. I am just glad you came back home, I missed you."
Lorato could not hold back her tears, no matter how hard she tried. She was overwhelmed with pain again. She used all the energy she had left to try and conceal them- stop them from flowing again and it hurt even more. It hurt.
"So um, ma," she said with a groggy voice. "Did dad say anything about me before he died? Did he ever ask for me or something?" she almost regretted asking, in case the answer she got from her mother would hurt her further.
Her mother continued chopping frantically before talking. "You and your father are very much alike: stubborn and proud. I wanted to go looking for you after you left just so I can keep in touch, but he would not hear of it. So, I became angry and bitter at the both of you. I was angry at you because you selfishly ran away and never considered if I may have been worried about you, and I was angry at your father because he had forgotten that you were his daughter. He was so stern and believed that you were the enemy. I could not tolerate such hate that he had for his own daughter." She stopped chopping. "But I was a loyal traditional wife and I let him be the head of the house. If it were up to me, I would have gone to that city and dragged you home myself."
"So that's it, he didn't care," said Lorato, anger suddenly igniting again.
"I never said that Lorato. Your father may have been proud and stubborn- I mean he could never admit he was wrong or apologise, but his eyes always gave away his true feelings. On the eve of his death he did ask for all of his children. Only Dineo was present. I truly believe that he regretted not finding you whilst he still had the time."
"It's okay ma, you don't have to cover for him, I know where I stand with my father. I hurt him and he died hating me for what I did." For a brief moment, Lorato felt a sense of relief that her father had died- just briefly- she was reciprocating the coldness she believed existed in her father when he thought about her. The anger was fuelling these feelings, but they soon were overcome by disgust and guilt and more pain. She was a horrible daughter, even when he was dead.
"Lorato, you cannot blame yourself for his death. We are all going to die eventually, that was his time," Gloria finally said after noticing that Lorato had drifted into space.
"I know, I know." There was a brief pause. "So aren't you lonely in this big house all alone? Where is Dineo?" Lorato had begun to fiddle with her thumbs again.
Her mother chuckled, "Dineo is a married woman now, and she lives with her new family."
"Really," Lorato smiled wryly, trying to cling on the change of subject. Anything to make her forget about her father for a while. "Where did she get married?"
"Oh, right here in Meropeng. But they live in Serowe because she is a nurse there." She leaned against the kitchen counter. "Dineo married the chief's son, five years ago."
"No," Lorato's eyes grew in amazement, teary residues outlining them. "You mean the chief of Meropeng? She got married into the great Matabane family?"
"Yes, she did."
"She got what she wanted after all." Lorato leaned back into her seat at the sound of some good news.
Lorato could remember when she and Dineo were younger and how they used to fantasise about who they were going to get married to. Dineo was always certain that she would get married into the royal family. She had always wanted the nicest expensive things in life that they could not afford, but in the royal family, she would never have to struggle to get what she wanted.
"So where did you wander off to earlier?" her mother asked.
"Oh, just outside the gate and around the yard really. I wanted to see the changes in this place."