I received an sms that completely removed the little hope and encouragement for a better tomorrow I had in a messed up country such as this. The positivity I had revved up within myself while speaking to God that morning seemed to have vanished, within a second everything turned from white to black.
While traveling back from Gogo's house in the mini van, the sun didn't feel any remorse towards me. It shone against my side of the window with no shame and consideration for a young woman who's just been told via sms that her brother is going to prison.
I'm upset that the maker of heaven and earth, the sun and seas in the midst of my turmoil didn't ease the burden by at least telling the sun to seek shelter behind the clouds just for the 2 hours that I'd spend alone with the stream of sad, angry, hurt, deflated thoughts rushing through my heart and emotion flooding each vein and artery that makes me human. There I was, emotional and about to break and cramped up in a taxi.
The world seemed to be ganging up on me and having a field day with my emotions. It hit my head from every side with fists of fear and punches of depression on my face. It's as though the devil heard me laugh and decided that he hated the sound that my shrill laughter made. It's as though every smile and giggle I made sizzled his slimy skin causing a part of him to melt away. So he looked at the one thing that would wipe away my smile, the one thing that would turn happiness into mourning from zero to one hundred kilometers per hour in less than 30 seconds.
"He got life". I tried to hold back my burning tears. The heat from my eyes refused to stop and I knew that there was a well forming and at any given minute I'd be a fountain of tears. Splashing my salty water on everyone, drenching them in my sorrows. Holding back the flood I thought to myself "Get a grip girl and get it now". You can let it all out when you get home.
What would the people in the taxi say, would they notice? The last thing I need is pity. I don't want to hear "Oh shame, sisi, what's wrong?". "She's crying bathong" "Maybe someone died, should we stop the taxi?" NO!
Can I just cry and be left to express my sorrow without intruders? Can I mourn the loss of my brothers freedom without comfort from anyone other than me for now??? Is that okay?
Maybe I can pretend that it was a funny sms and that my tears are not pain but are instead the side effects of a good joke. Can I be invisible... if not for a moment?
I don't want to cry not here and not now. Oh God! Hear me!
Drop, drops, streams and its done...I'm wet all over. My chest, breasts, hands and face! The foreign national sitting next to me notices and looks at me.
I avoid his eyes and pretend to be reading a magazine. The damp blotches of water pouring out onto my Drum sell me out and he tries once more to look into my eyes to see the problem.
"Whaaaattt!" I burst out. Shocked and embarrassed by my outburst he looks around him hoping someone else would intervene before he has to open his mouth exposing his accent and therefore opening a can of questions around his citizenship and bring about an untimely deportation back to his hometown.
Now sobbing even harder, I look out the window with the hope that if I blink me eyes I will realise that hey it didn't happen and I'd wake up relieved that it was all a horrible dream that did not just take place in a tiny Hi-ace while on my way to Johannesburg from my Gogo's house.
The passengers looked at me and I felt the spirit of sadness fill the taxi, the taxi driver shifted his rear view mirror to look at what the commotion was all about. Just as he was about to ask, his eyes met mine and he knew the issue was too heavy for him to handle. He saw the silent language my eyes shouted and he did exactly what my eyes said he left me the hell alone!
The rest of the journey was silent and yet all I wanted to do was scream a loud shout that would tell the whole world to JUST LET ME CRY
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