The aroma of freshly baked muffins and coffee at our highly preferred Coffee Shop- a setting that replays in my mind a dozen times, when I think about you….about when we first met. How your infectious smile and laughter drew me to parts of you never seen, by any other. You redefined the ordeal of friendship and sisterhood.
An unfamiliar face, in a street where everyone is acquainted. I was curious: who are you? Where are you from? Instead you shed a light into your life: a 5 year imprisonment, rejection, and pain. I carefully observe how you still embody immense strength and courage. When we first met, on our walk to the local Supermarket your eyes twinkle so brightly with hope and new beginnings.
Commuters all rushing to catch the 329 Train, at 17h00, the exact time when we first met. Extending a hand to make a purchase of one bag of apples among the many in your hand, you smiled and said “dankie sis”, a minute later a loud voice chanting “uma’bananas, apples, oranges R5.00 net” into the distance. You introduced me to the hustle- the never-ceasing pursuit of economic freedom.
Breed in household where personal opinions or freedom of expression is totally forbidden, your quest to change that in this generation, has taught me to respect and appreciate a different perspective and opinion to mine. When we first met, you’d always challenge one to dig deeper than the surface. To fight beyond the limitations we had unconsciously set in our minds.
When we first met, I met a different vision of me- a vision that I am yet to discover in all of its complexity. Our different stories and backgrounds unifies us on grounds of empathy. Erasing the inferior complexity in our whole beings and envisioning a individual that is capable of being a friend, a better man, a provider, a social activist through spoken word. When we first met…my inadquacy died.
BY: Bridgette M Luvhengo