24 hours of funeral - final - 29 June 2026 - IO

24 hours of funeral

Ivan Otterstrom

24 hours of funeral

Ivan Otterstrom

Copyright 2026 Ivan Otterstrom

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the writtem prior permission by the author.

I dedicate this book to the new generation of South African men and women, building an inclusive society. A society recognising the value of all and liberated of gender roles.

ENJOY THE READ :-)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ivan came to South Africa in 1991 and married Sybil shortly thereafter.

Sybil is from Limpopo (SePedi!) and that is where Ivan has his deep knowledge of Limpopo culture, costums and family interaction.

The story in this book is fictional and not based on any real characters. However, all the elements in the book can probably be found in any extended family throughout our nation, although not as concentrated.

It is a book that touches a lot of preconceived ideas and norms in society and can act as a template for change.

Gender roles, ‘good’ behavior, norms, acceptable facts all come under the spoptlight and that can illustrate the elements for change.

Says Ivan: “I have had great joy in inventing all the characters. I love them all and I can see aspects in them all that I have observed for now so many years being a part of my wife’s family. As I have been on the ‘outside’ it has given me the chance to see without being a part of the ‘scandals’.

It is my hope all will enjoy a good story with lots of scandals and skenner”.

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Reflexions

Thandi was driving to Limpopo for the funeral. One of the old uncle’s having passed on. It was of course a bit complicated, because the uncle was not a super-rich man but reasonable well-off. After all, he had had his own company, even in those days.

However, that was not really the problem. The problem or challenge now was that he also had had two wives. One living in the main house and the other in a smaller house he had built on the premises.

Even that was not the problem either.

The real challenge was the kids. Four kids with first wife and three with number two. And it was the last wife who stayed in the main house. And her kids were actually rather lazy.

They were not kids anymore. All in the late 20s and 30s now. Some having married and having kids now themselves.

Thandi looked forward to seeing some of the cousins and the family again. It was not often she could do the trip to Limpopo. It was not the distance. It was time. After all, she was a lawyer at KPMG, earning a very very good salary and having a great life.

Speeding along in her Range Rover Vogue she did look at her own life. Yes, she was now 29, not married. OK, she had a boyfriend. But he was in another dimension of her life. He was Jewish. And a strict one at that. Actually not marriage material. She was smiling to herself.

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Imagining herself dressed as a typical Jewish wife and knowing all things to look out for regarding food. Maybe it was time to make a change.

It was still only Friday before lunch. She planned to get there shortly after one o’clock or thereabouts. Of course there would be things to do and things to buy. Smiling, knowing that she had prepared for that as well. Onions, carrots and cabbage were ratting along on the backseat. And the millie sack. The big 80 kg one.

She was passing through Polokwane and decided to have lunch. Just something quick and easy. But not fastfood. The little restaurant across from the primary school looked OK. She had been there before. It was fast in service and food was tasty.

Parking the Range Rover smack outside and quickly in. Corner table, looking out in the street.

What a difference. Looking at the school kids. Some ugly khaki uniform and then she noticed. None of the kids had shoes on. Was that really also a part of the uniform? No shoes? Probably was. The only good thing was that the school was like United Nations. Kids of all hues playing and being friends. Even a little Chinese looking boy and girl.

The waitress quickly took her order but on the way to the kitchen she was sort of accosted by one of the staff. Thandi noticed how this young man or nearly just a boy was trying to hold the waitress’s hand. It looked ugly. And she was not comfortable with it.

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Should she really get involved? It was so easy to just overlook it. Although a fellow ‘sister’ was actually being harassed. Standing up for all these things was starting to be too much. And it seemed to get worse the further she went North.

It also made her think how two women could be married to the same man. Without friction. But now she started to reflect on it. Were there no arguments? Friction? Were the kids treated the same? Was this really ideal?

Thandi missed her mother who had passed on when she was still a child. Her father now living in USA. She was on her own here for the funeral.

It was complicated of course. The dead uncle had a brother who had married a woman from a ‘better off’ family in the village. Thandi’s mother was the sister of the brother’s wife.

Somehow, it managed to set Thandi aside from the rest of the family. When her mother married a young promising university student, they were seen as ‘different’.

The young university student got a scholar ship and got to be a rather successful PhD and lecturer. Life was good. Thandi’s mother was working in a bank and Thandi knew she was not destined to become ‘just a wife’.

But things can change and they did. Her father got seconded to a US university on a two-year contract. And Thandi’s mother went to visit nearly every two months –or as much as she could.

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The accident was just that. An accident, but it left her mother dead. Car speeding and hitting her mother.

Thandi was still in South Africa and only 12. Life became something else for her. She remembered that her father attended the memorial in Soweto as her mother had been buried in the US. Nothing was the same. Her Mother’s family took her in and gave her a future.

Suddenly the house where she grew up was not in her life anymore. Yes, the family’s house in Soweto was indeed nice and she had her own room and so on. But township life was different from Kyalami.

Schooling became different. And language! Now it was not just 100% English. The family were Sotho, actually Pedi, and she had only a vague feel for SePedi. Now she had to learn something new.

Trying to express herself in SePedi took time and she had to admit that she never became fully conversant.

Of course, thanks to University, she was OK in Latin (law!), French and German. But that was not greatly used in Soweto or in Limpopo either.

At least she got through university and became a lawyer in her own right. And the job at KPMG was very good to her. Because she was clever, that she knew.

Of course she went to Limpopo from time to time with the other kids and later youngsters of her father’s family.

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But the warm connection was never really there. She was an outsider and she knew it very well.

Maybe it was because of her education but she was not the only one with an education after all.

Somehow, she was OK with being ‘different’. It gave her the opportunity to look at the rest of the family in a sort of detached way. Like being in a Shakespeare play. Not King Lear though.

oooOooo

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Arriving and the first scandal

Thandi got to the funeral. Around 2 o’clock. To the house. Seeing the big tent and off-loading the shopping she had in the car.

Zodwa, the 2nd wife, with the lazy kids, was crying. She must have loved him. Miriam, the first wife, was organising things. No tears. Just a determination to get things done. Was she really unfriendly? Was there no love there?

It felt good to work with Miriam in getting things organised. Listening to how she was so disappointed when she realised that she was not good enough and wife #2 was on the cards.

Later in the afternoon a woman and two young women arrived. It turns out that the uncle had another ‘family’. In Potgietersrust. And she was coming with her kids to show respect for her husband. Did she know?

Now the scandal started rolling on. Zodwa was shocked that she had not been good enough either. Thandi saw her collapse and being taken care of by Mirian. But there was no love lost there. Miriam had that little secret smile that only women could see. It was sort of ‘see how it feels and how I felt those years back when you moved into the main house and I had to move out’. Was it ugly? Yes, but ….

Now suddenly the neighbours were in on the ‘secret’. Three wives? And how many kids?

Thandi just looked on. Wife #3 actually looked friendly and nice. And the kids, well, they were actually not kids.

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They were her age after all. She looked forward to sit down with them. Would that now be less than loyal to the rest of the family?

She noticed how the entire funeral was shifting to ‘for’ or ‘against’ family #3. But how had it all come to pass?

Zodwa, wife #2 had gone to bed. Miriam was left with the better part of the preparations. But after all, Limpopo, and the neighbours and the ‘uncommitted’ family all joined in – as usual.

It was going to be an interesting afternoon and evening and Thandi somehow looked forward to it all. The scandals and the ‘skenner’ could last for years!

Thandi was sitting with the other women, peeling a ton of onions. The talk was of course in SePedi and Thandi did not get it all. The sentiment was divided. Who is she, wife #3? Where is she from? paying her respects? But she would have known, surely?

She was sitting sort of by herself. Nobody really dared go to her and striking up a conversation.

However, the ice had been broken. Her two daughters were sitting with Miriam’s clever kids.

The real breakthrough came when Miriam went to her and invited her to sit with her as she was doing something food preparation. That did it. Wife #3 was smiling and it was possible to see that her nervousness had gone.

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But was Miriam not jealous of her? It did not look like it. Why not? She was not greatly in favour of Zodwa. And Thandi got it. It was a very subtle way of getting back at Zodwa. After all these years! Miriam was still on the war path.

But how on earth could they have been living next door to each other? Did Zodwa also have it in for Miriam? Or was there more to this?

Thandi got to sit with wife #3. It was rather easy to get to do that as there were still different things to do, like peeling those onions.

Her name was Dineo and she was a school teacher in Potgietersrust. Thandi did not ask how they had met or when it was or any of those things. She just let Dineo tell her story, or the parts she wanted to divulge.

Of course Dineo knew that the uncle had a ‘real’ family. But somehow, considering the age of her two daughters, the uncle must have fathered her children when wife #1, Miriam, was pregnant. This was getting very complicated. And Miriam could also count after all.

Dineo was open about it all. She knew she would never get married to the uncle, but did allow him to come by from time to time to see the kids and also be a part of their upbringing. As much as he had wanted to after all.

Did she ever marry then? No, Dineo said, she never found a man. And as the kids grew up, she had focused more on being a teacher and a part of the local community. But OK, she had a friend but that was really something that was not a part of her.

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But, Thandi asked, did the kids not miss a father in those early days? Yes, Dineo said, that was the only part she regretted. That there was no father figure around, but was it so different from a lot of the other kids around?

Maybe it would have been very different if one of them would have been a boy. Would a boy miss a father more than a girl? Thandi did not know that. She knew she missed her father. But the father had now settled for good in the US.

Thandi discreetly asked what the kids were doing. They were her age after all. Both of them early 30s versus her 29.

Yes, Lerato was 31 and the accountant in the car dealership in Potgietersrust and Teboho was 29 and a lecturer at Wits. In the physics faculty. She would be finishing her PhD in another year or two. How similar to herself, Thandi thought.

Looking around she also noticed that Miriam’s clever kids were on the same wavelength as Lerato and Teboho. After all, there we had the teacher, the IT consultant and the fashion designer.

Sello, the fashion designer would be coming later, but the other two were there.

She looked across to where Zodwa’s kids were sitting. Yes, they had all been spoken of as ‘lazy’ but were they? They had after all made a living out of it. Yes, they

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had all moved to Gauteng, and they were all employed. Maybe not greatly into academia, but so what.

Thandi realised that she might have been subscribing to the accepted truth that Zodwa’s kids were ‘lazy’ and that might have stemmed from a general dislike of Zodwa? If so, that would not be fair, would it?

Now she took a harder look at herself, yes, maybe security guard in a bank, manning the till in Checkers and being a driver were not regarded as ‘big jobs’. But they all three had jobs, an income and family.

Who are you to judge? Thandi asked herself. Are you really ‘better’ than them? And what is ‘better’ in this context?.

Were they ‘better’ because they had kids and she was not even married yet? And what would marriage be all about if it turned out like this?

Thandi had to reflect on this. Was she really arrogant because she had a good education? And what would it matter? Did it justify subscribing to believing others were less than her? She had to adjust no.

This funeral started to be very interesting and Thandi had never thought it would end up like this.

But it was not over yet!

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… and the scandals keep coming!

Finally Miriam’s clever kid, Sello the fashion designer, showed up. Arriving in his nice car, but… he came with another man.

They had probably all known that Sello was ‘different’. But now it was really out there.

More scandals! Could it be much better than this? Thandi was laughing a bit. Now it would take another decade before all the skenner had run its course.

Sitting in the tent in the afternoon gave her the chance to be out of the action and being a spectator. It was great fun but also deeply serious. So many things were happening on different levels and now with the added spice of the ‘new’ family entering the fray.

Sello the fashion designer came to sit with her. He was really her favourite cousin. Always in a good mood and always just good company. And now he was formally out of the closet. Coming with another man to the funeral. It really settled it all.

She simply had to ask. “Sello, why now?”. He was laughing at her question. They both looked across to where his ‘man’ was sitting. Sort of by himself but slightly in a group of men. Did they ignore him?

So Sello got to tell her. He told her that when the dead uncle, Sello’s father, spoke to him about being ‘different’ it was pure venom. You are going to marry and you will have kids and you will be normal here. You can be ‘different’ just as you can see other men being different

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but still having a family. If you rock the boat you will regret it all. NOT IN MY HOUSE!

Of course I got mobbed in school he said. It was rather clear, but nobody wanted to say anything. It was just hard growing up here in Limpopo. Somehow I got to move to JoBurg and got accepted at a boarding school. I had to live my own life from I was like 15. There was no way that I could see a future here.

Thandi felt sorry for him. How hard it must have been to be rejected. And especially as being ‘different’ was not something unusual now. But why was it so hard for the uncle, Sello’s father, to accept?

Sello divulged more of his story. Of course I was mobbed at the boarding school. And there was nowhere to hide. I could have become suicidal. It was not really in my thoughts, but let us face it, it could have pushed me too far.

But it was not just bullying and rejection. There were others like me. I was not alone suddenly. I got through to matric and then I got into a fashion school. It could have been very bad, but I have always had a knack for making clothing. And now I was free to do it all.

Sello’s friend came over. He was a bit older than Sello, probably in his 40s. They were just like any other couple. They showed her a few of the designs they had made and sold. She never knew that Sello was actually creating a name for himself in the fashion world together with his friend.

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She decided that she needed to go to their store and see for herself. The pics on Sello’s phone really showed that they had done wedding dresses, having a kiddies clothing line and were also having a few employees as they had a little contract with H&M. How different success looked close-up, especially as it was family.

So, how do you view your father’s behaviour now you can see that there is more to it? Thandi was really curious. Family life was not as it used to be… if it had ever been anything like usual.

Now here was something that really shocked Thandi. For once. Sello told her that he used to go past family #3 in Potgietersrust and spend a day or two there when visiting Limpopo.

As a matter of fact, he felt more welcome in their house than in his father’s house.

Look at it like this, he said. Zodwa never liked me. Well, never liked any of us from my mother, Miriam. It got worse when we got older and moved out. Us kids had an OK relationship, not much animosity there.

Father was always on my case. No letting up. When do you get married? Where is the girlfriend, what are you doing in Gauteng, that evil place, a real man is not doing women’s clothes and much more. It was a constant buzz in my ear whenever I came here. That is why I really only showed up for the usual: weddings, funerals and those things.

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It was painful to always come here alone, when I am not alone. But just imagining coming here as a couple? Not a chance.

But did you hate him then? No, hate is such a strong word. I have deliberately avoided anything like that. More looked at it as not really a part of me. In essence, I ignored it.

And your mother, Miriam? What could she do and say?

Father was the arch-typical alpha male. Just like some of his friends around here. All of them family heads and the decision maker and so on. That some of them live a lie is another story.

Mother never said anything. Whether she was against my lifestyle or not, I don’t know, even to this day. Strange really.

So, you don’t really know your mother? Correct, weird really. I think it is time to get to know mother a bit better, now father is gone. That is why we decided to come her as a couple. Sort of getting it out there so we can start talking about it.

But what about the neighbours and so on? Look around, Thandi. You might see one or two of the boys looking ‘different’ if you really look. They might just see us as icons and liberators. Making them feel OK. And what is wrong with that really?

Thandi smiled at that. Yes, and it probably has also been a shock to all that he is white. Oh, Sello, there will be so much talk about this funeral that it can last a

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lifetime, for all of us! Thandi was really laughing out loud now. This was the funeral of a century!

Zodwa’s son, the security guard at the FNB branch in Southdale came over. Hi Sello, good to see you finally making a move. But I also recommended that you should wait until father was in his box, last time we spoke. Ah, so Zodwa’s kids were not a united front? So never assume things, she reminded herself.

And why should Zodwa’s kids be united with their mother? Sello must have been visiting his half-brother or whatever the technical expression was, fairly often? You came alone, Sello asked? Yes, unfortunately the little one is sick so we decided I should go and she would stay home with the little one. And the bigger one is anyway having a school thing this weekend.

Thandi realised that here was a family.

Can I ask? Have you never had any problems over Sello’s lifestyle? No, was the answer. Sello is family and a nice person. Why should I judge anybody? At the end of it, even the good book has a few words about judging others. But your mother, Zodwa? That has always been a problem. But we have resisted the temptation to carry her dislike of Miriam and our families forward. Not so easy when father was around. And him preferring one woman over another? Why did they not just divorce? That was something I never got to understand.

Maybe he just wanted to show the world how big a man he was. When he was one with feet of clay. Thandi looked surprised. She never knew he was so wellversed in the Bible. Maybe there was more to her cousin

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after all. Maybe she was the one who had to adjust. Did she really fob him off because ‘security guard in a bank’ was not in her league? Was she really like this?

You know your Bible? Now he was the one laughing. Yes, we are believers at home. Why so shocked? Thandi did not have an answer. Why was she surprised? Really? Maybe she had to adjust her attitudes.

So, where there any fights we did not know about? Not fights, but it was rather clear that Miriam was not treated as first wife, if we have to be very traditional. Suddenly my mother was the one living in the main house. Remember, Thandi, we grew up like that. Next door to another family that father had.

Sello also chipped in. It was clear that my mother, Miriam, did not like Zodwa at all. There were all these small episodes where mother could somehow make Zodwa feel unwanted and low.

Look at it today. I could sense when Dineo, wife #3 showed up. Whether Miriam knew is a good point. Maybe she suspected it. Zodwa did not. That is why she collapsed.

Now look at it like this, Thandi. Here we have mother, Zodwa, being treated as first wife, living in the big house, having pushed out her ‘rival’ for her husband’s attention. Yes, she was also fighting back, using us kids to make life harder than necessary for Miriam.

It was a good thing that we stayed out of it as much as we could, but we could also see what was going on.

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Did Miriam not fight? Oh yes. They both laughed, small things. Like making sure Miriam was sitting in the first pew at church. Somehow demanding, and getting, new clothes and parading in it, especially at church of course, where Zodwa had to keep on using last year’s fashion, like.

By inviting father’s brother for lunch. And sure enough, no plate for Zodwa.

So, Zodwa’s life could not have been too easy either.

Thandi did hardly trust her ears. What a life it must have been. But did father not try to make peace between them? Well, could he have done it without taking sides? Impossible. So what would be the consequence? I think he just closed his eyes to it all and lived his life. As the upstanding family head with two wives in tow. Hypocrite!

Do you miss him? Any of you? No, Sello said. I don’t. It was a relief when I moved away and got to the boarding school. Sure I came back here for school holidays, but I was hardly around in the house. Always doing other things.

The same here, after matric I got a job and I moved to Gauteng as fast as I could. No more tension and fights. Look, I have a family now. We are happy, but not exactly like millionaires. But so what? We are OK and we are happy.

Thandi could start to imagine this. But what about the property now he is gone?

oooOooo

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The plot thickens

What about this plot? And the two houses? Did he have a will drawn up? Both laughed, this is Limpopo, Thandi. A will?

Now their little group with Sello (from Miriam) and Thabo (from Zodwa) was joined by Dineo’s two daughters (Lerato and Teboho). Also Palesa (from Zodwa, the cashier at Checkers) came to join.

Now it was a rather big group and it was amazing to see that these were the children of father, but from three different women.

Sello opened up. Well, yes, the plot and the houses. Let me put it very clearly. I am not interested in any of it. I don’t want to have anything to do with it. This is so far removed from my life and now father is dead I doubt very much I will be coming by here ever again. Maybe just to see mother, but that is about it.

Thabo suggested selling it all and sharing the money, if any, among Zodwa and Miriam. Nobody was really in on that idea. Where would Zodwa and Miriam go after having been living there for so many years?

Lerato chucked in another consideration. What does the law say? Is there anything governing these types of marriages? Nobody knew. Even Thandi who should have had a feeling for this knew nothing.

But Lerato and Teboho, you have never been here before. Is there anything you would like to keep as a memento from this place? Anything reminding you of your father?

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Now Lerato had a few things to say as well. Does anyone know how Teboho and I must have felt in all of this. Yes, sure enough, our mother, Dineo, was pregnant with me at the same time as Miriam was pregnant. How my mother and father ever met, I don’t even know. But was he a father-figure for Teboho and I? that is debatable.

So he came by with some presents for Christmas, and dropped in from time to time otherwise. But mother never received a cent from him. And did he contribute to our schooling and school uniforms or anything? not even a post card for birthdays. So having something that reminds me of him? No thanks. To me you may do whatever you want with it.

Teboho nodded her assent. She was not interested either.

And your mother? Thandi asked. Could she be interested in anything. Doubt it, but we should of course just ask her after all.

Now Thabo had something else. I don’t know about customary law but I think the chief is the arbiter in these situations. I mean, it is more complicated, I think. Let us now see, father had two brothers. Thandi, you should know. Now the oldest of the brothers passed some years back. His widow is still there, just across from here. Does she then inherit on behalf of her dead husband? As far as I know, the inheritance also goes to the brothers of father in this case.

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Thandi, insofar as your father was the brother of uncle, he must be in line for some inheritance? Will he be interested in anything like this? Thandi was not sure on this but said that as far as she knew, he was well-off in the US and had not even visited South Africa since her mother died. The memorial was the last anybody had seen of him. So, I think we can conclude that he is out of the picture. I don’t even have his email come to think of it. I can try to find him, but don’t hold your breath on this. let us just go forward with the family we have here.

Now the widow from the older brother. That was something else she had forgotten all about. The brother had had a plot just across from here. There was a house and a rondavel on the plot. The brother had lived in the house and the wife lived in the rondavel. Thandi was not sure, but did the wife ever live in the big house or did she always just have her own place, the rondavel?

Thandi had hardly ever seen her but she remembered a rather tall and very impressive woman, always clad in dark blue attire. From head to foot. Always walking so upright and fast. She dominated any room she entered. And everybody was scared of her. Looking her in the eyes was dangerous they all said. Limpopo and witchcraft! Thandi had heard all the stories. That she had tame snakes in the rondavel that crept out in the evening and came back in the morning when she called them. And that there were all kind of mysterious things in that rondavel. Like strange knives, a bag with chicken heads that would never go off, plants that would grow in the ceiling and sprout.

Nobody knew because nobody was ever allowed inside.

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Thandi had to smile. Everybody around the fire knew the stories and nobody wanted to say a word about this part of the family.

Thandi had to ask. What happened to the brother’s plot when he passed? Thabo knew this part after all. Nothing happened. The house is still there. It is clean and well looked after, but empty. Nobody wants to live there. And she is still living in the rondavel. All by herself. It was like nobody wanted to even say her name. like the-one-whoshall-not-be-named from Harry Potter.

But doesn’t she show up for funerals and church? Oh yes. She is marching in, all clad in dark blue, eyes burning like coal and just being the force in the room. She must have an income, but from where? It can’t really be from the husband after all. Maybe it is true that the snakes come back with money that they sneak out from the ATM. Everybody laughed. Thabo could really put it out there.

Will she be there tomorrow for the funeral? Of course, but just leave her alone.

OK, this is becoming rather complicated. So the brothers can inherit and through them the widows? But didn’t father also have a sister? Yes, but she passed some years back. Never married. And her plot? Father just took it over as his. But is that legal? The chief said it was. Because there were no other relatives. Thandi decided to have a closer look at these things. But… this was far removed from her daily business.

But father also had a business? Was it not something garbage trucks in Polokwane? Ah yes. This I know a bit

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about. Lerato had apparently helped him sell the business a few years back. He had some ten trucks and a long-term contract with Polokwane. It provided a reasonable good income throughout, but he wanted to sell it off as he got older. He was very much hands-on if you can remember.

So it was sold? And the money? Went into a trust fund where they could all live off the interest and the revenues. As far as I know, it is still there.

So the plot is not the big thing? It is the trust fund? Well, not really a trust fund, but something similar. In essence, it is a bank account where the interest goes into a normal account for daily expenses. I did set it all up for him after all.

Maybe we should just leave it all alone? If nobody is interested in it? Let Zodwa and Miriam live here and let them share the interests on a monthly basis? Like it was before?

They all nodded. That could work if nobody wanted to tap into it. But could it work?

Thandi also knew that this was not the end of it. Unveiling of tombstone would be around Easter and that is where it all had to be discussed again and agreed on. If possible.

But one thing was the agreement among the children of Miriam, Zodwa and Dineo. What about Zodwa, Miriam and Dineo? Would they not also have an opinion about this?

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Thandi could easily see that this would be complicated. Simply too many people involved in this. And if they also included ‘her’ it would really get interesting. Maybe a spell or two chucked in for good measure.

So many of the family would have to agree on a lot of things and it was nearly hopeless to agree on anything really. But it had to be done now.

Miriam and Zodwa were closest to the action, but that did not mean that they could overlook Dineo. Or her daughters.

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More family member, more concerns Zodwa’s last-born also came to join together with his wife. Neo, the driver, was living in the village after all. It was him, Neo, who organised the tent and the cow and the sheep and the chicken for the funeral. Also the big drei-foot pots and so on. It was all rather expensive and time-consuming.

Hi, Neo and Tebello. That is impressive that you two managed all of this. It is a lot you accomplished. Neo smiled, he was always in a good mood after all.

Yes, it has been a hectic week after father died last Thursday. Coffin and so on. It has been hectic. But Tebello has been on all the food business. There is still more to do, but together with Miriam it is by and large in hand and sorted.

We have also done the slaughter of the cow and the two sheep. The price of the cow was horrific, really. Thabo asked, but where did the money come from? no problem there. We tapped into the fund, thanks to Miriam and Zodwa. So all of it was rather easy.

But tell me, Neo, you stayed here in the village? Thandi was getting more and more involved now. Yes, I finished schooling after grade 9. Then father got me into being one of the garbage men on his trucks. He also made sure I got a drivers license so I got to be one of the drivers of those trucks in Polokwane. That was hard work all of it. It was not just driving the truck, it was also looking after it. Servicing and tyres and diesel and oil and repairs and so on. I had to learn all of this. Then I met Tebello and we had the first child. She was still in school and I was only 18. Father came to the rescue

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again. He negotiated the lobola and got us a little plot next to the tar road. Now there is a lot more tar road around, but at that time we only had the one going right through the village, right from the freeway on one side and right out the other end. All shops were, and to some extent still are, located next to the tar road. As soon as Tebello finished school we set up her grocery store. That is the one she is driving, and that is what father also had in mind when he got us the plot. Remember, those plots are all designed for shops. It also made it possible to get all the food things at cost price.

So Tebello is the capitalist? They all laughed. Yes, Neo chimed in. she knows all those things. She is doing the books for the shop and it does provide a rather OK income.

When father sold the garbage truck business I could stay on, but we decided that the trip from here to Polokwane every day was really too costly. I got the job as the driver for the two schools and also the clinic. They provided a bakkie and Tebello is figuring out the expenses which she submits every month. The schools take care of it all. I just drive and get a salary. Remember, grade 9 is not making me great with numbers.

But how was your relationship with father? Sello was really curious now. You know I came by very seldom after I moved to JoBurg and while I still stayed here father and I could never see eye to eye on anything. We always had a fight.

Oh yes, I do remember that. But Sello, you stayed with your mother in the other house. I was ‘privileged’ as I

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stayed with my mother in the big house. I had my own room. Yes, I remember, Sello said. and I also remember I did envy you. We stayed in the small house. And it was cramped.

Thandi could spot that there would have been some tension going back in time. But, did you resent Neo then? Thandi asked Sello. Not really. Because I could see it was not exactly his fault. But it did not make us friends as kids either.

Neo was a bit surprised. Yes, I do remember as well. I don’t think I ever saw it like that. Whoa, this funeral is really bringing it all to the surface.

But Neo, it seems you got along with father? Yes, I did. Maybe because he helped me and took me serious when nobody else really did that. Look at it. Grade 9 is nearly drop-out and Tebello’s family was not impressed when she was pregnant with an 18 year old boy with no schooling and working on a garbage truck.

The thing is, I never argued with father, I never judged him. I had him help me a lot, but I also helped him. Maybe in smaller ways, but still. Did he respect me?

That is hard to say, but he did do all those father-things you would expect. But that was when I started in his business, I think.

The focus shifted to Tebello. Thandi noticed something else. She looked very very capable. So, Tebello. It is your shop we saw this afternoon? It looks nice. Tebello smiled, we just stock what is needed by the people around us. And it helps that we can use the bakkie to go to Game in Polokwane and get everything at a good

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price. We are cheaper than most and I make sure it is all fresh. And it makes us a bit of money after all. Thandi could sense that it might not have been millions but that it probably was a very healthy business.

Another success story. But did you get along with father? It was one of those things. I left that part to Neo. And your family? There was a smile there. My family was not impressed with Neo. But I could see that there was more to Neo. He is a good man and a great father to our children. This is a family man who takes care of his children. He is the one who built the swings at both schools. And you must come and see our house. Neo has put in the water tank, the Jo-Jo tank, and electricity and so on. And what’s more, he is helping my mother with those things as well. After my father passed last year. Neo is the man for me, and she looked up at Neo, and that was love.

More success story, but there must have been hardship in the early days.

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Deep talk

The afternoon was starting to go towards evening and supper. Somehow Thandi got ‘invited’ into Miriams house for a real sit-down meal. The house was small –admittedly – but it was immaculate. Clean and wellmaintained. Dining room table, matching chairs, tablecloth, exquisite dinner set and silverware. Thandi realised she had never really been inside Miriam’s house. Not really actually. She was shown a smaller room with a comfortable bed. ‘I am going to put you up here for the night, Thandi”. And you can see where the bathroom is and so on. We will just leave the light on for the night.

Thandi saw that that Dineo’s two kids would also be in the house, in another bedroom.

That meant that the house would by and large be full. But where would Dineo then sleep? But Dineo? Well, either she can sleep on the couch or share my bed. After all, we are family – somehow.

While Thandi and the others got their suitcases out of the cars and got to hang the clothes, just for the night really, Miriam got busy with preparing the dinner for them.

Miriam had got a piece of the sheep and had also two chickens going. It smelled so nice in her little kitchen. “what are you cooking and can I help you”. You can keep me company, Thandi, we have never got to really talk. So Thandi found herself a chair while Miriam sorted the last of the meal.

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Nice lamb stew – not really traditional – loads of carrot, onion and turnip. Of course some spices as well. It just smelled so good. Tandi nearly started to cry. It reminded her so much of her childhood.

The chickens had been fried and were so crispy and went well with the salads. Beetroot, pumpkin, coleslaw and potato salad. All the seven colours.

Finally sitting down with Dineo’s two kids. Lerato and teboho.

Dinner was just so well-prepared and the conversation was flowing. Lerato asked Miriam ‘did you know there was another family? I mean mom and you were pregnant at the same time?

I was having my suspicions. It was hurtful to realise that I was not good enough. Now his brothers were all the same and none of this polygamy has ever worked out. You look around and see the fights in the families. All because of this.

And always. Women are the ones to bear the brunt of it. I know I am getting on in years and those days were very different. And there was no help anywhere. My own mom dared not say anything when my dad received a proposal for my marriage to him.

Thandi had to really consider this one. Was Miriam like nearly traded? Just because her father knew her future husband? What did he think?

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Miriam, Thandi said, but what about you? Did you fall in love? Love did not have anything to do with it. But we did get married. He was not a bad husband.

But… but… did you not have a dream of becoming more than a housewife? I mean… Teboho’s voice trailed off.

Miriam laughed – I did become a nurse after all. But it was all depending on what he wanted. Even if I came home tired after a long day, well, I had to cook and serve it the right way.

Did he ever hit you? Yes. twice. Those were the times where I had to control myself for not finding the big kitchen knife.

First time I went to my mom. She was shocked and we got to sit down, mom, dad and I, to talk about this. But it came to nothing. Dad did not want to hear about it and just told me that he was a good man and I must have done something wrong.

That is where it all ended. I thought my own dad would stand up for me, but no.

Mom and I had a talk some weeks later. And it was clear she was cowed as well. No real help there either. So what was I to do? in those days I could not go to the police. What would they do? nothing. So it was hopeless.

I confronted him. Told him that one more like this and he should look out. It happened again many years later. And that is where he fell down the stairs. Miriam laughed. So it ended right there. No more of that.

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Teboho looked on with big eyes. Could Miriam really have pushed him? Yes, she realised, she could indeed have done that.

And then? Well, we never really saw eye to eye after that. And that was probably where Zodwa came into the picture.

And still no love? Thandi was shocked really. No, it ended. And Thandi, try and look around now. What do you see in many respects? Wife and husband sitting and holding hands and looking at each other with love? Do you see that? Not very often, right? Yes, few couples, but why is that? Thandi. If you really look at it, maybe it is the same as my story.

But what about the younger generation? Teboho was now getting very upset. This was not how it should be was it? Well, Miriam said. I think it comes with the parents and the school. Times are changing and women are starting to stand up for what is just common sense. But in the more rural areas we still have a very long way to go.

However, it will change. And your generation better find a proper husband. That is really the thing.

Thandi considered that. Her boyfriend was a far cry from all of this. Did he have a stint of this macho stuff in him? Thandi was thinking hard. And concluded that he was OK. Maybe because he came from a totally different environment.

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But here was another catch. She had never been invited to see his parents. Why not? Well, she was not exactly Jewish. But was that a show-stopper? She decided to find out when she got back. It also made her think about marriage. To Levi? Was there too much baggage in that? This was not easy to determine sitting in Limpopo.

Hard to envisage her being ‘Jewish’. But it was also hard to see herself in an abusive marriage. Was it all racial then? She refused to think so.

Lerato, Dineo’s youngest, came to sit with them as well. Accountant at the car dealership. Thandi had to ask. So Lerato, do you have a man in your life? Is it like all of this we hear about here?

31 and not married, Thandi thought. Surely, there must be someone.

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It is ugly

Lerato looked around, saw the audience. Thandi, yes, there was. Do you all like to hear a rather ugly story? Well, I could be the one.

One of the teachers got very interested in me when I was 14. Yes, 14. It was very fun to begin with. The attention, always having airtime and so on. But of course I knew what it was all about. I was not that stupid.

the draw-back was that my friends started to avoid me. I was now looked upon as one of his ‘harem’. I started to realise I was not the only one.

Looking at the others in the same situation was an eyeopener. Did I like what I saw? I got to see it for what it was – prostituting myself. How many knew about it? Too many. And nobody wanted to do anything about it. It was like acceptable.

So of course I fell pregnant. Now the ‘secret’ was out in the open. It was not possible to hide anything. Abortion was too late. And I am not sure I could have gone through with it.

Mum was shocked, but what was worse was that my father – yes, the one we are burying today – blamed me. I was 14! It was as though there was a secret brotherhood at play. Men could do whatever and would support each other. The cost to family and normal relationships was not counted.

I started to realise that there would be no support in all of this. Then I went to the police. This was a worse

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experience. The first officer I met told me that I was only a child and could not bring a charge against an adult. The next one told me that as a girl I could not bring a charge against a man, and surely not a teacher.

It became worse, because now everybody knew I was bringing a charge against the teacher. The principal got involved and tried to hush it up. But my stomach was growing so it became impossible.

Now the department got involved and the next person to talk to me also tried to gloss it over, suggesting that maybe I had several partners so maybe the father could not be the teacher.

It got even worse because one more of the students, his harem, fell pregnant. Now it was impossible to ignore. Mom got involved and now the support started to kick in. she could have done more earlier, but she surely redeemed herself in those months.

The principal tried desperately to put pressure on both of us, the two pregnant students. But we both stood our ground. Now our mothers went into action as well. But what hurt was that our fathers stayed out of the fight.

It did become a minor scandal where the outcome was that the teacher got suspended. I have heard he was later fired. The principal got removed and the new principal started cleaning up this practice.

It never got into mainstream newspapers. Maybe because it was rather trivial. Another black girl getting pregnant by a teacher. What is the news in this? Is it racism or just that we are getting so immune to wrongs?

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We cannot get concerned or indignant about such things?

Yes, I have a nice healthy child, he is 16 and I try to bring him up to be a real person, not a macho type. But let us face it. The environment is not always conducive to anything like this.

We also need to look at the law. Was it rape? The law is clear – yes, it was statuary rape, but hey, I was going along on my own free will after all. Was it his fault? My fault? I still blame him.

But, but …. Did he ever contact you? Did he recognise it was his child? Lerato looked sad. Nothing. Neither for me nor the other student. The DNA tests were conclusive in both cases, so there could not be any doubt.

He never tried contacting me. It was not like he could not find me or my telephone number if he had wanted to. In essence: no, he did not want to know anything about his own child.

Thandi was stunned. Did you try to contact him? Anything. No, Lerato said. It left me cold. I deliberately avoid hearing anything about him. I simply do not want to know.

But Thandi again asked. what if he would like to meet his child? Now Lerato’s good humour came to the fore. He would have to fight me first. No way I will ever allow that.

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But does you son not know? Yes. I have told him everything. He knows. And it is hurting him sometimes. I can see that, but there is hardly anything I can do about it. Life is hard and the scars of this he might carry forever.

Will it impact his kind of relationships in the future? Yes, of course, Lerato said. But hopefully for the better. No, he is not bitter. What does that do? no, he is determined to make a better man. I think he can.

Thandi was surprised. So many things that she would never have imagined. And all of it taking place right under her nose, actually not, as she was not going past Limpopo too often after all.

But now, do you have a man in your life? Lerato smiled at them all. Actually not – not at present. And not for a very long time. I am seeing a nice man now. But I am not sure where it will go. And whether I am really interested.

Other women? No, I mean, I have tried that, but it is not really for me, somehow.

Thandi was not shocked, but there were so many things spilling out today. And the funeral was still only tomorrow after all. The night vigil still going.

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Commotion and violence

Suddenly a commotion outside. They all went outside to see what was going on. It was one of the more distant cousins. No, actually the husband of the distant cousin. The family.

Thandi sort of knew the cousin. She was in her mid-30s with two kids. Well, not really kids after all, they were teens. Apparently not at the funeral. The wife had arrived in the morning, by bus.

Thandi was not too sure on why the commotion so she got to ask Neo and Tebello. Well, that is another great story. This couple, Jim and Refilwe, got married some years back. It was again one of these instances where Refilwe got pregnant while she was attending teacher college. He is doing something at the municipality in Westonaria where they live.

I was at the discussions on the lobola at that time. His family arrived from both Westonaria and from Tzaneen where he is coming from.

And the lobola? How did that go? It went OK. I still see the family sometimes when they come to Polokwane. The ones from Tzaneen that is.

However, one of the uncles told me that Jim had three kids already with 2 different women. And also that they knew that Refilwe was pregnant.

That put the whole story in another light. I had to bring it up. He got angry and demanded to know where I had that from. He also claimed that he was not married to

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any of the other two women. Whether Refilwe knew or not, I am not even sure, not even to this day.

In any event, we signed an agreement on the lobola. It also stated – my idea – that it should be followed within two months by a church ceremony or at least at the mayors office.

Jim signed it and his entire family, uncles and aunts all signed together with us.

So far so good and there was a wedding in the township in Westonaria. You know, dancing down the street, and so on. Very official, lots of pictures and the two families uniting. Or that is what we thought.

So the two kids arrived, and it looked like going OK. We did not hear anything from them so we could only assume it was fine. Tebello continued the story. That is where it started to go pear-shaped. Refilwe phoned, in tears. Jim wanted her and the kids out of the house, claiming that he never married her at all. And the kids were not his. She would never cheat on anybody. She is the most loyal person you can ever find.

Now it is becoming complicated, Tebello continued.

Where could she go? And why suddenly trying to chase them out.

That was a year or more back, but we got a lawyer in on it. He was one of the stock of lawyers who is doing this pro bono – for free. He is attached to some NGO or something. In essence, he is clever and understands all

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of this. Tebello could be rather to the point, Thandi realised. And then?

Well, the lawyer started at the marriage certificate. Was there ever a church wedding? It seems that it had been forgotten. So we provided all the evidence, the dancing down the street, the signed lobola papers and so on. That was taken to home affairs that issued the marriage certificate. Now, Jim could not deny that part after all.

But he still insisted that Refilwe should move out.

Then we discovered that he had moved in with another woman and the whole thing was because he wanted to take over the house and have this new woman installed in the house.

Thandi asked, a bit naïve really “but could they not just divorce then”. Tebello rolled her eyes at that one and laughed. Yes, but see in that instance the house would have to be sold and the proceeds split between them. On top of, Jim’s pension could also get into play. With 50% off to Refilwe.

The lawyer did take that up at court as Refilwe had now asked for a divorce, claiming his infidelity. The court issued a preliminary verdict that if divorce was to be granted, half of his money would go to Refilwe. That made him so angry as I have ever seen a person before. He was swearing at the magistrate and was threatened with going to jail.

I was there, Neo said. It was a spectacle and rather sad really.

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We traced the new woman and went to see her. Tebello and I, Neo explained. That was a few weeks back, I think. She is actually a nice person, but she was not aware of any of these things. So we briefed her in on it all and that caused drama.

Jim phoned us and threatened us with all kind of things and claimed we had just spoiled his relationship with the new woman.

She had apparently told him to take a hike. And told him to look after his kids.

The kids should be able to rely on their father for support, but that went down the drain at least two years back. They are not kids anymore, but could need some help. Refilwe is a teacher and that is not a great salary after all.

And now? The commotion? Neo got up. I better go and see what it is all about.

Thandi thought of going along as well, but decided against it as Neo came back. This is really bad news. Jim is causing a scene and threatening Refilwe.

Unfortunately Jim is all alone in this as the rest of the family is behind Refilwe. Jim has treated her badly and starting a scene now at a funeral? That is just not on. So wait here. I am going back and telling him to go away.

This time Thandi trekked along. Just to see what would now happen.

Jim was standing in the middle of the yard and shouting at Refilwe. She was sitting on a chair and this time there

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was steel in her eyes. Finally she stood up and shouted at the top of her voice at Jim. “tell the family how you have been cheating on me. Tell them how you have tried to take my salary. Tell them how you have tried to cash your pension despite the court order. And tell them what type of medication you take now”. Then she turned and left.

But it was not over. Jim rushed after her, grabbed her arm and turning her around and planting a solid fist in her face.

That was too much. Everybody just looked totally shocked. Jim looked as though he had just realised what he had done. He just stood there. Until Neo walked up to him and guided him away. This time there was no going back. Refilwe was hurt. It looked like a broken nose or something. There was plenty of blood after all.

Everybody realised that the divorce was now a done deal. This could not be swept under the carpet. But should there then be a police report to support it? Never mind plenty of pictures and probably also a video of it all.

Thandi saw that one of the family members took over now. She remembered that this distant cousin was indeed a police officer and now a rather higher ranking one. He took out a set of hand cuffs and got Jim cuffed. No more violence. He also got on the cell phone and took Jim to his car and locked him in there. Just for good measure he jumped up on the bonnet of his car and in the loudest booming voice Thandi had heard in a long time demanded SILENCE!

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He explained what would now happen. That this was a real criminal offense and the divorce was the reason for it all. Jim would be taken to the police station and locked up until a magistrate could look at his case on Monday. No way this could be hidden away. The chief spoke next. Though not from the top of the car, but he could be heard after all.

This is it! Jim has been an unruly character all along and now it stops. He is out of the family that I can guarantee right now. I will get in contact with the chief on the other side and get this sorted!

A couple of hours later the police van arrived and Jim got taken away. The cousin had filled in some paperwork in the meantime and handed it over. And that was sort of it. Maybe.

Thandi was stunned. As the rest of the family. This was not just a normal funeral.

Miriam had a look at Refilwe’s face. Yes, she said. The nose is broken and this is serious. There is also severe bruising. This is hospital case. Neo and Tebello offered to take her to hospital so off they went. They would probably not be back before morning. The hospital was after all some 2 hours drive away.

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Unfinished business

Somehow, Thandi had the feeling there was some unfinished business in all of this. Something she had never really known or thought about. So she sneaked out of the tent and walked into the big house. And there was Zodwa. Sitting in the couch. All alone. Nobody else in the house. It was so quiet and silent. Zodwa looked up, a half-smile and Thandi saw a tear in the eyes.

Yes, Zodwa is also a human being and nobody has really had time for her. It was as though Zodwa was now the outcast. The evil one, the home wrecker. But was she?

Thandi just sat down next to her. Took her hand in hers. And asked “how do you feel?’.

Zodwa was surprised. That was for sure. She started crying. I loved him. With all his faults and all his manners and all his attitudes. When we met he was a dashing man. He had his business in Polokwane and somehow we met. Were you working at time? Thandi asked. she didn’t even know anything about Zodwa really.

Yes, I was working. In the traffic department and that is where we met. I handled all his truck permits and those things. And genuinely, he was so grateful for my help. He typically had a small present when he had a new truck he needed to register. Not something big. Just like a flower, or some fruit. He invited me out one day and somehow, I fell in love.

He explained that he was already married but if I could stand being in a relationship where there would be two

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wives he would be so happy. He told it all as it was. I was shocked. I said no way immediately. Not for me. It ended there I thought, but he still came by to do his business at the department, so of course I saw him often.

I really didn’t know what to do. yes, we went out again and this time he asked if I could accept being first wife.

We had started to know each other pretty well and I saw some qualities in him. Like he could be husband material after all.

Thandi was just sitting and listening. This was another part of the story. Did you meet Miriam then? Yes, Zodwa said. We met and it was clear that there would be no love lost there. It scared me and I again said it would be impossible, but I somehow also saw that he was genuine.

Miriam immediately balked at it all. I was not even sure I wanted to be wife #1 or wife #2. But before I could even explain anything she thundered on. I think their marriage was dead at that time anyway.

So she said that whether I would be in the picture or not she would be moving out and that she would demand, yes demand, a house on the plot. For herself and her kids. That she would have nothing more to do with it all and that she would still be parading around as wife #1. Take it or leave it.

This was the break. So I moved into the big house. She moved out. But we were still all living on the same plot. And although I tried to mend fences, it did not work.

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Now he is gone and I am sitting here. And I don’t even know what more to do.

Thandi was shocked – again. This was more than she had expected. But what will you do now, then Zodwa? Will you still live here? I am not sure. There must be some sort of pension or life policy. Maybe I will move somewhere else. Preferable where nobody knows me. Look at it. I am the evil one here. My kids are not overly fond of me either. Why should I stay?

Thandi had no word for it. Could she just up and go? She was not like young after all. Starting a new life at her age? Where? It was unheard of. But just maybe the only real solution.

There are now only some few hours left before we all have to get ready for the funeral. Will you be doing a speech? Maybe. Maybe not. I feel like going away before the funeral. Maybe I can get Neo to take me to Polokwane? Oh no. he is at the hospital with Refilwe. What a mess.

Thandi, if you do not see me at the funeral, you will know I have quietly slipped away. I am tired of it all. Maybe it was never to be for me to be happy.

Thandi left her. What more could she say now?

Thandi crept into bed in Miriam’s house. But she also realised that there was more to this story. Was Miriam really the faultless? Was Zodwa evil? The alarm would go off at 5 o’clock. Not so long now. oooOooo

It is complicated

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Thandi could not fall asleep. She was thinking about how Zodwa might have been misunderstood all those years. But what had kept her? Love? Could it have been that she actually loved him? And then the other thought? How bad a person was he then?

Could it have been that they actually found solace in each others company? Like taking refuge from the world? Living in their own bubble?

After all, the uncle and Neo seemed to have got along all right? So was his bluster maybe more of a ‘cultural’ thing than anything else? That he had to be hard on gay people and so on? If that was the expectation it could explain a lot more of the relationships.

Thandi had to get up and have some water. And saw that there was still lights on in the big house. Was Zodwa really going to make good of her talks? Abandoning the whole thing in the night?

It simply would be unheard of, but the way this whole funeral had been going it would not surprise anymore.

The night vigil was still going, but it was time to start the water and get hot water for everybody. The night was slowly getting to dawn now.

Neo and Tebello came back at that time. But without Refilwe. Thandi got up and out in the yard. “what happened?” the hospital is keeping her for a day or two – there could even be a concussion. It is not good. The swelling of her face is severe. We drove past the police station. Jim is locked up for now. We had the hospital

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report for them and that is now a part of the docket. He will probably stay in jail for now. The magistrate will look at it on Monday. It is a serious case and there is no going back on it.

Somebody will have to tell the kids. Is there a neighbour? Does anyone know more about Refilwe? We need to somehow get them informed.

Now everybody was starting to get up. Water boiling. Some breakfast getting organised. Thandi resorting to Miriam’s house for cereals and coffee. That was needed after all of this.

Washing and getting dressed now. There is a service of some sort in the big house. The priest is there and some of the church people as well.

Thandi gets across the yard to the big house. There is the coffin, the priest, some candles on a table, and Zodwa is there. At the head of the coffin. Suddenly Zodwa is in control. Let me say something now. We are soon off to the cemetery. This is the last time he will be in our house. Maybe it was never my house, but it became my house. I brought up the kids here.

Maybe it was never much of a family home, but we did what we could. I accepted the family in Potgitesrust. I accepted Miriam still on the plot. I accepted it all. She was looking at Neo. And Neo has always been my crutch in all of this. Neo was looking surprised now. Where was this going?

All of you. I have never been welcome in this family. And so I am going away now. Neo, you did set up a fund for

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me. I have used it for a little house in Kimberley. And there is enough for me to live off. And that is where I came from anyway.

You can have the funeral now. I have had a life with him, but you can have his death now.

And she walked out. Just like that. And only now did Thandi see that there was a car in the yard. It was one of the neighbors. Zodwa got in and Thandi noticed there were two big suitcases in the car. They sped off. And everybody looked shocked, surprised and downright embarrassed.

Neo did not look too surprised after all. Thandi asked him: did you know? No, not that I would be like this. But yes, I did put up an account for her. Tebello was actually the one who did it all. She knows these things. She also managed to purchase a smaller house in Kimberley for her. It is more complicated than anything really, but somehow. It might just make her happy after all. She knew that her life her without dad would not be great.

Thandi was still totally taken aback. She had never heard of the wife walking out on her husband’s funeral, even if there were more than one woman involved.

This really just convinced Thandi. Polygamy could never work. Had it really ever worked in the past? The kids of two or now three families all together? With all their experiences? Rejections? And anything.

The priest looked stunned as well. What actually happened? He was asking Miriam but Miriam just stood there. For once speechless. I .. I.. really don’t know. She

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just left? We should somehow have done all of this together, never mind if we never got along. But this?

Everybody looked at each other. Should the funeral just go along as though nothing had happened? How could it do that?

Nobody seemed to know what to do. The priest suggested that Miriam and maybe some of the children should sit down and discuss this. It was not an unreasonable thing to suggest, but nobody really wanted to be part of this committee. In the end it fell on Sello (Miriam’s son, Dineo (Wife #3), Thabo (Zodwa’s son), Neo and Tebello (Zodw’s son and his wife) and Miriam herself. All went to Miriam’s house to discuss this.

And the morning went on. The coffin stood there in the bedroom. The mattress was still there, but nobody was sitting there now. There were some flowers on the coffin, but they started to look a bit tired now. It was hot after all.

The lunch was getting prepared, but the urgency had gone out of it all. And still the committee had not announced any ‘result’. Thandi was getting hot, sitting in the tent in all her finery as the temperature crept up was not really fun. Cold have been worse, she reflected.

Some of the neighbors started to arrive. Thandi realised that it was now getting late in the morning. What would happen to the church service? Should there still be a church service after all? The priest sat all by himself with a cup of tea. Thandi went over to him, pulled up a chair and asked. “what now”?. The priest just looked stunned,

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still. I have no idea. The service should have been half an hour ago. Now we have no service at the house, we are late for church and the cemetery is waiting for us. lunch will be somewhat like in the early afternoon. I have never seen something like this.

Finally, some movement. The ‘committee’ came out. Sello acted as the spokesperson – for once. Sello was not nervous, but more apprehensive really. It must be the first time he is stepping up to the plate in the entire village, Thandi realised. He has never drawn any attention to himself by pushing forward in the queue. What now?

Sello’s friend looked like he could go and hold his hand, but Sello just ever so slightly shook his head. Not now, it signalled.

So, Sello, for once, got to speak. The family has decided that the focus must be on my father. It is his funeral we are here for. Not anything else really. That means we will now have a short prayer and we will then proceed directly to the cemetery. We will have a sermon at the cemetery, not in the church. Father, will you lead us in prayer please?

So it all sort of came together, but in a very haphazard fashion. It was a very short prayer and afterwards all just got moving. The two buses, the bakkies and so on. All on the move to the cemetery.

Of course it was getting late for conducting a funeral and their procession met at least another two funeral guest going back. It was chaotic to get parked as the others were leaving. Somehow, All got to the grave.

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The funeral parlour was waiting now. The tent was there. The little band was there. The church women were there, all ready to sing. And finally the hearse arrived with the coffin. And the half-dead flowers on top. It looked a bit sad now.

The little band got on with it. But hardly had they finished the first tunes before the priest started out with a prayer. Then a bit of singing, but even that got cut short. The priest had a sermon of sorts. But there was something missing somehow. Thandi could sense there was something else going on, but what? Suddenly, she heard the whispers behind her. Two of the neighbor women were talking. So, he is being buried by the person he had that frightful row with? Those years back? When that awful woman had an affair with him and the husband came to the church with a gun and wanted to shoot him? Where Father had to intervene, making sure nobody got shot in his church. They both giggled a bit. Oh yes, and one shot went off and killed the statue of Mother Maria, took off her head. The giggle became more of a subdued laugh now. Thandi was shocked! What did she just hear? Was there more scandal to unravel today?

Was that why the priest was doing his job, but not having his heart in it after all?

It was time for the speeches. It should have been at the church, but now it had to be at the cemetery. Another change of plan. The funeral parlour wanted to get going. They were busy after all. So after more singing and a few tunes, it was time to lower the coffin. So while the singing got underway, the coffin slowly went down.

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Tears. This was after all a final farewell. Good or bad. The family all had the chance of passing by the grave and toss a handful of soil down. And there she was as well. The brother’s widow. The stately tall and majestic woman. All in dark blue. Her presence created usual furore. All looked at each other. Was she there to cast a curse perhaps? Everybody knew she probably knew a few spells. Of the strong variant.

She walked up to the grave. Grabbed a handful of the soil from the spade that Neo held out for her. Looked down in the grave and some said there was a connection there. Electricity from her eyes down to the coffin. And into the coffin most likely. Then her loud booming voice. “he was also my family”. And the soil hit the coffin. Some said afterwards it sounded like thunder. Then she turned and left. Some claimed that the soil seeped into the coffin., some said that the sound was not thunder but sounded like an earthquake. Never mind there had never been an earthquake around.

Nobody really felt like stepping up to the grave after that. So it fizzled. After a bit more singing, it died down. Even the priest looked uncomfortable but managed to say another prayer.

The whole thing was coming apart now. Sello rescued the situation. He stepped up to the head of the grave and invited Neo to do the first speech, on behalf of the children.

No way out of it. So Neo got to talk about his younger years and how he became a part of the truck business. All in all a nice speech that also showed that his father was loved by some at least.

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Sello had captured the role of the MC and now asked for the speech from the neighbors, but who? Finally, one of the neighbors stepped up. Thandi knew her name, but could not recall it now. Anyway, it was a speech, but after that, it fizzled again so Sello got Tebello to read out the streamers from the reeds and the flowers. It was a bit bland, but somehow that was it.

Then Neo got to start filling in the grave, while the music thundered along interspersed with a bit of singing. It was soon over. Grave filled in. and now everybody left for lunch at the house.

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Lunch-time and unknown facts

Coming back, washing hands in the basin Thandi got into the tent. Miriam got her to sit at the table and organised her a plate of food. A bit of the mutton, a piece of chicken, beetroot salad, potato salad and some pumpkin. Also chakalaka and some of the spinach. It tasted divine, but maybe she was just getting very very hungry now. It was late for lunch. And it could be felt. There was plenty of food and there were plenty of people. He must somehow have been , well , maybe not popular., but surely a person to be reckoned with. Yes, he had a business in Polokwane, yes, he was a church member and an elder. But there must have been more to it.

Thandi started to wonder. Who was he really? It was easy to look at the outward person, but was that now enough? Or listening to skenner ? but what would her judgement have been if she had just met him in the street?

Thandi realised that she had never really spoken to him. Yes, she had of course been to Limpopo from time to time and she knew the family, sort of. But that did not mean she was hanging out with him. So who was he?

Thandi saw that the two neighbor women were sitting nearby. The ones who had giggled about the shooting in the church. So she decided to go sit with them.

“hello, well, this is surely a funeral that is out of the ordinary”, she opened up with. You are Thandi? Yes, the one from JoBurg? Yes, and part of this strange family? Well, yes, I believe so. Yes.

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Thandi did not like to dwell on that so she hurriedly asked. I heard you talking about shooting in the church? Really?

This was too good an occasion to not let lose. Both giggled a bit. And started on that story. Well, he liked women. No doubt about that. Especially other men’s women. And that is where the problems started.

Remember he was a church elder or something. The new priest, the one we have now, Father Emmanuel, had just started. He had a mission in life. He wanted to put more morality into the congregation. He wanted to encourage all to live better lives, to give up on polygamy.

I think he had been here for a month or two. Your uncle and the rest of the staff were elements he inherited and he had not had a chance to decide whether he wanted them all there or not.

So, one bright Sunday morning your uncle is helping with the incense burners and here comes Freddy, actually my neighbor, the storyteller said.

So he yelled at the top of his lungs: “you stole my wife. You had an affair with her. The child is not mine and you know it” and then he pulled out a gun. Waving it in the air and shouting more at your uncle.

The poor priest tried to intervene but hey, Freddy pointed the gun at him so he retreated.

And now the best part, both giggled a bit. Your uncle tore open his jacket and shirt and shouted back: you

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want to shoot me! Then do it! And yes, your wife is not even interested in you anymore. That is why she came to me” now that is not the thing to shout in church, so Freddy pulled the trigger, but was so engulfed in rage that instead of killing your uncle, the bullet went past him and up towards the side of the church, where you have those statuettes of Maria and Jesus and the apostles. Now both laughed. They must have enjoyed it so much. So the bullet went straight into the head of Maria and took off her head. Everybody was screaming like mad. The priest yelled, some of the men over-powered poor Freddy and took the gun away.

Whether the child was Freddy’s or not is difficult to know. She looks like Freddy, but who is to tell.

But afterwards? Police? No, we don’t call the police just like that. Although Maria got murdered. They both laughed now. This was simply too good a story.

So the whole village knew? Oh yes. But your uncle’s reputation was not damaged at all. Poor Freddy and his wife moved shortly thereafter. I think they went to Louis Trichardt.

But your uncle, so the story goes, had more women than he wanted because now some of the women with husbands that would not look after them, flocked to him.

It is true. He was popular suddenly. And surely, some of the kids do look like him.

But Miriam and Zodwa? Well, nothing was ever proven and nobody really wanted to talk about it. So it was all

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hushed up. Yes, Miriam must have known, and surely also Zodwa when she arrived.

But did he not try to look after some of those children? That is a good point. The thing is, he was very much involved with the school. And he donated the swing set and also made sure that the kids had proper shoes and uniforms. But how could he do that? He was not a millionaire? Obviously not. The best part might have been donations. I know for a fact that as a business man he had contacts all over. So he did solicit a lot of the stuff from Pick ‘n Pay and from other businesses as well. He did well with it.

Remember he also started the church choir and yes, he also employed more people in the truck business than needed.

So yes, he might not have been a saint, but he was not the devil either. At least not in the eyes of a lot of the people here. I think that is also what attracted Zodwa to him. She was a part of the donation drives. As far as I know. So she must have seen a different side of him.

Thandi’s head was spinning. So he was a genuine person after all? Just goes to show that it is complicated. How come she never knew? She realised., maybe because I was never interested and never asked. She asked Thabo and Sello. Did you know about his involvement with the school and so on? Yes, but it was never a part of us. He was doing a lot of things that nobody really knew and I think that his philanthropy was a part of it. Maybe he just wanted it like that. Maybe he had a reputation to live up to: the big man in town.

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This is now complicated. So we all came here with our made-up opinions about everybody. And now it is not really like that anymore? Neo also remarked that insofar as he was still living here, he of course knew a lot about everybody, but the saying about the still water and so on is true.

The lunch was starting to be over. Plates got collected and the washing up got into gear. Thandi was excused from that part. Which she was really happy about. It gave her more time to sit with the family. The one’s she hadn’t seen in years really.

Neo came along to sit with her. So, Thandi, this has surely been a funeral. Nothing has really gone according to tradition. No church service, but a hurried sermon at the grave site. No time to read the reeds and flowers really. Also at the grave site. The session at the house not coming together. The priest hurried along. I don’t know, but this is not how I planned any of it.

But, Neo. We will be having the tombstone at Easter or what? Yes, that is another thing we need to quickly discuss. Let us just get the family together for a quick chat about the what now things.

So Tebello joined. This time Dineo, Lerato and Teboho were there as well. Sello and his man were there. Miriam was sitting in the back, still looking shellshocked. That Zodwa could just up and go like that. Thabo joined and so on. Neo kicked it off. This has not been a traditional funeral. Nothing has really been going as it should. Traditions have been broken and we look a bit like fools in all of this. Probably not by our own actions. We have a few things to still discuss. What do

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we do with the fund and how do we handle the tombstone. Suggestion is that we aim at having the tombstone at Easter, but let us just see if this can be better organised.

Thabo had after all handled some of it, so there was another addition to it all. We might have to get some legal opinion on how to use the fund or rather how to disperse of it. What if we use the time from until Easter to try to sort the fund and try to figure out what to do with the plots. That could buy us some time.

And then if we can let Neo and Tebello organise the tombstone and the tent and sheep and everything again? The money can come from the fund then.

Neo and Tebello looked at each other. We can do it, but we could also need a bit of help on it. It is a major undertaking just for two people. Who would like to come by and assist us in all of this? It was a surprise that Dineo said she could do it. I have a bit of leave so I can come by before Easter and help with it all. Thabo also volunteered, so there would be plenty of hands on deck now.

OK, we will get the ball rolling in the next few weeks and then combine forces.

Breaking it all up

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Now, the plots. Miriam, what would YOU like us to do? do you want to stay here? It is your home. Thabo was as polite as he could possible be. He went to Miriam and sat with her, holding her hand. Nobody will chase you out. This is your home, Miriam. This is really now what you would like to do. But, Miriam said. What about your mother, Zodwa? Ah yes, but I think she might be out of it. Somehow, I think we need to make concessions on her behalf. Miriam, what you decide, we will make plans for my mom for the same. Meaning, if you want the plot to be sold, the revenue can be split between the two of you. Along those lines.

Everybody was in agreement. At least this could make sure that nobody was the favourite again.

Miriam looked around. Still not really there. I.. I .. I cannot decide right now. Give me a week’s time. Neo, can we talk some time next week perhaps? Upfront. I don’t think I want to be here anymore. It was my home, but it was not as a home should be. Simply too much tension and strife and fights. But I don’t know where else I can stay. I still have friends here, and if I have to move somewhere else, I will know nobody. She just looked so lost.

Help came from a surprising side. Tebello got to sit with Miriam as well, holding her hand. Miriam, you can stay with us. We do have space on our plot and can easily put a little house up for you. You can have your own and no obligations.

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Miriam looked totally taken aback. Would her ‘enemy’s’ child really help her and care for her? She had never envisaged something like this.

Tebello smiled at her. And Miriam, you are not old and still capable of doing things. Could you help me in the shop? I am busy and it is nearly too much for me to figure out stocks and packing and putting up on shelves and customers and the books and all these things. I can really need somebody like you. You used to be a nurse? So you know your way around admin. Please Miriam. It is not just being kind, I can really need your help.

Miriam started to cry now. It is so long time since anyone has needed me. Nobody has asked me to help out. Tebello and Neo, yes please. I will be a person again. Somebody of value. I can add value. And she cried now. Really cried and hugged Tebello. Tebello walked her to her house and got her to rest a bit in the bed. She was sitting there for some time until Miriam fell asleep. Somehow it was a peaceful sleep.

As Tebello joined the family group, it was decided that Thabo would try to see what the plot could be sold for, and also the sister’s plot as that would now be a part of the deal.

What if we sell the two plots and just share the proceeds between Miriam and Zodwa? Then we can look at the fund for other things. Can that work?

Everybody thought it would be an idea. But, what about her? Yes, well, it is the brother’s widow after all. We can split it in three portions? Who would like to go talk to

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her? Nobody really wanted to be saddled with that, so Thandi said she could try that.

The fund? Maybe we could just leave it for now? This was Sello’s suggestion. I mean, does anyone of us need money? We are not rich, but we do have an income. Could we leave it and use it for emergencies and education of the kids. I mean, if anyone in the family is on the ropes, we could use the fund?

Everybody thought it an idea, but could that work? Would there be a committee for that? Thandi got her lawyer brain into gear. I think we should just get an opinion on this. Maybe we could ask the chief and maybe also get someone who specialises in traditional things in on it? Ah yes, Teboho smiled. I could ask at one of the other faculties. There must be someone who can advise on this. Leave it to me. It will take some weeks though, but Easter is not now anyway.

How do we keep in contact? let us just set up a whatsapp group. Everybody on whatsapp? Ok, that settles it.

There was not much of after-tears. The funeral lunch was over anyway and the pots and things were being packed and ready to be returned to the shop that rented it out. The tent would be taken down soon and that would be it after all.

There were only a few things to wrap up. And one of them was the talk with her. Thandi was not even sure she knew what to do and how to breach the subject, let alone how to find her.

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Well, she must be in her rondavel after all. Time to get on with it. So Thandi put her best foot forward and trundled across to the plot adjacent. She took her time. She looked through the windows at the main house. And yes. It was all there. It was clean and maintained, but nobody had lived there since the brother died. As a matter of fact, it was more than clean. It was immaculate. Who did this? Was it her? And when did she do it. Thandi decided not to even speculate on it. She walked up to the entrance of the rondavel. And before she could even knock on the door or say anything, the door opened. And there she was. She was as impressive as Thandi could remember her. All in dark blue. But she also had a smile and looked rather mischievous. Hello Thandi, let us go sit on the bench over here. It is still hot today. Do you want something? Lemonade? Tea? I am fine thanks. I noticed that the main house looks so immaculate. But is there nobody living there? No. After my husband passed, I felt more comfortable within my little space here. but I do have one of the neighbor’s girls to come here every two days to make sure it looks fine and clean.

But who is doing your shopping? Ah, there I have some help now. But it is not a lot I need anyway. But Thandi, I can see you are dying of curiosity. Meaning, you would really like to know how I live? What I do for a living? If I have any income? And trust me Thandi, I do not have tame snakes that are emptying the ATM for money. She was laughing. It was a deep good-humoured laugh. Ok yes. I am curious. You are after all an enigma. A real deep mystery in the village. Has it always been like this?

No, Thandi. After we got married we were living a ‘normal’ life. You must have seen some pics of me. I

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was just dressed as any other woman around here. We had the two kids, but we decided early to enrol them in a boarding school in Cape Town. Far from here. See, your uncle’s brother was a rather screwed business man. Yes, he had a part of the truck business, but sold it off to your uncle. The revenue, which was a fair amount, but not like millions either, got invested in a business venture he had in Polokwane. Believe it or not, it was an electronics warehouse and shop. It took off like wildfire in those earlier days. It evolved into stocking laptops, cameras, now cell phones got into it, printers and anything. He was on top of it. And what he didn’t know, he got to know. He employed some very clever youngsters and that is why suddenly he had two outlets as he put one up in Bela-Bela. And one more in Tzaneen. Those were successful businesses. It must now have been some, what, like ten years back? More like fifteen I think. He was on the forefront of a lot of things.

But he was a secretive man. She laughed now. Nobody had any idea that he was behind it all. It was hard work and I was a part of it. I had to know and learn and behind the scenes I took care of the repair business. Yes, I can use software and a screwdriver, Thandi.

But… But … I have never known? But why the blue dresses and so on? What happened?

Thandi, he passed some five years back now. It was cancer and he knew it. He sold it all off and it did amount to a fair portion. That he invested in some funds and that is my income. And our big son, William, has helped me on some of these things. Sworn to deep secrecy. But you might ask yourself, do I not go out

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ever? Yes I do. but now here is the bigger secret. Would you like to know? Then come. And Thandi was invited inside. She was both curious and scared. What would be inside? Snakes and chicken heads?

She got inside. It was surprisingly well-lit. there was a sort of sun-roof and it was enough to lighten it all up. And now Thandi got another shock. The inside was a computer lab of sorts. Now she was laughing. Yes, Thandi. Believe it or not. I am an influencer. I advise and post and have a steady following. I have two identities. One is the as a traditional sangoma, the other as a marriage adviser.

You had no idea that I can do this? Look outside. I am connected and I have been doing this for a few years now. And that is why I started to build myself into the enigma.

Of course I know all the skenner. But it amuses me. And he would have loved it. So yes, Thandi, I have had a good life here. married and having a good husband. Got two wonderful kids, all grown up and both living abroad now.

But it is time to make a change. This funeral has convinced me that I have other things to do. William has moved to Australia and my daughter Ann is living in the UK, in Manchester. She is a nurse at the hospital and William became an investment banker.

So what will I do now? Thandi, better not tell anybody, but I will get them both to come here and help me packing it all up. The plot will be sold off and I will be moving away now. The funeral here has convinced me.

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But I probably knew that it was time. After all, I am not interested in being accused of witchcraft so, it is decided now.

But will the village not see you out of those garments? I intend to move in them and change and burn them when I get past Polokwane.

And why not? There is nothing here that ties me down. Miriam and Zodwa are both on their way now. Your uncle has passed on. Nobody is interested in living here and as much as I have had a life here, it is now time to make a change. And Thandi, you may not know it really, but I am actually only 52. Yes, we got married while I was still very young. Could only happen here, but I had a good life.

So, well, yes, I was here to talk about how to split the revenue from the two plots. We have decided that those must now be sold. And split between you, Miriam and Zodwa. That is a novel thought. Please go ahead. I will ask William to give you my banking details. You can liaise with him on these things. I am fine with it.

But was it the funeral that made you make up your mind? Probably not. It has been a long way coming really. After my husband passed I was lost. I felt lost and I did not know what to do. so I started to go a bit loopy I think. That is where I started getting into the widowdresses.

But all my social media acumen helped me. And now it is time to have another go at life.

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And Thandi. Not a word about any of this. I would like to keep in contact. So it was all going to be email and whatsapp. And why not? Of course Thandi had decided to download her apps and see what it was all about.

Another totally unexpected turn of events.

Thandi slowly drifted back to the little group. It was now only Sello, Teboho and Dineo. Well, she is OK with it. We can go sell the two plots, as soon as you Teboho, can get an opinion on some of these things.

Thandi had discussed the implications with her, but she would have some opinions as well. After all, she was a bit of an authority on traditional matters. So the legal opinion that Teboho would get would also get vetted. This could actually work.

There was really nothing more to do. it was starting to get late afternoon and Thandi decided it was time to go home.

She had already packed her suitcase and now it was time to say goodbye to all.

The whatsapp group had been created. All knew what to do now. And the next occasion, physical, not virtual, would be the tombstone at Easter.

oooOooo

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Tombstone and what now Easter rolling around. Tombstone. But this was going to be a totally different setup now.

Thandi was again on the road, aiming at getting to Polokwane and further shortly after lunch. She did stop at her favourite little lunchtime restaurant. The one across the primary school. This time there were no incidents with the male waiter trying to be macho. As a matter of fact, it was far more pleasant this time. Something must have happened. Maybe a new owner that could put his or her foot down?

Anyway, she was quickly on the road again. The next 50 km and then turn right for another 20 km. She did know the route but was not sure on what would be awaiting her on the other side.

She was driving to Neo and Tebello’s house. But she took a little detour. Just to see the former plot or rather where Miriam, uncle and Zodwa and their kids had been living.

Yes, it had all been sold. And the plot adjacent where she would have been living. But it looked nothing like what it had been. The one that had bought the plot had demolished it all. And instead put up a rather impressive house. There was nothing of it left. Not even the longdrop in the back of the plot and nothing of the mealies either. Nothing. It was sad to see. Thandi had after all known the two houses for such a long time. Now all of it gone.

Thandi had to just also look next door. Adjacent. Where she had lived. The main house was still there but had

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some new extensions and the rondavel was gone. She realised that she had actually managed to drive into the yard. She had not intended that. And now a woman appeared. With a very questioning look in her eyes.

So sorry. I mean. I did not want to disturb. It is just that, you know, the uncle, next door, the one who died in December last year, and his brother’s widow was still living here. There was a rondavel. Sorry, I better go.

She actually smiled. It is OK, we bought the whole thing. We live across in the new house. My parents live here now. The main house is well-maintained and there was no need to tear that down. We extended it a bit here and there and got running water and electricity installed. It is like city-living now. And a big smile to go with it. Can I offer you a cup of tea or something? Actually, a glass of water will be very fine.

Come with me, we can sit in the kitchen. And she was invited into the new house. The one on uncle’s plot. It was immaculate and very modern. It oozed of good taste and they must have been sinking some hectic money into it. You are ..? Sorry, Thandi. Ah, ok, we are me, Palesa, and my husband Kamohelo. We were living right on the other side and it was not practical. So we were looking for something closer to both the freeway and also to the schools. Then we heard about this plot. Actually both plots. The price was Ok, so we got into it. That was in January.

Thandi remembered. Yes, that is where the cash payment came in and got distributed. She took care of hers portion, via her son William.

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And are you happy here? yes. It is working out perfectly fine for us. We did hear about all the witchcraft with the rondavel. But it was empty. But just for good measure. We took it down.

Thand was both sad and happy. There was really nothing now. It was all in the past. And maybe that was a good idea.

She got to Neo and Tebello’s house. That had also changed in just three months really. The plot was big and had to be as they had their own house and smaller house (but it looked cozy) for Miriam and the shop. And the shop had grown. The plot was busy by the looks of it.

The tent was there, the cooking area with the drie-foots was there and things getting prepared for tomorrow or later tonight.

The next-door plot was empty. Thandi vaguely remembered that there had been a shop there, but what had happened? In any event, it was now parking lot and that is where chairs and tables and the tent was. And also where two sheep were boxed in. she could see that the cow must have been slaughtered already.

Hi Thandi! Tebello rushed across to her and hugging her. So good to see you again. Whatsapp is not the same after all. Neo was all smiles, Thandi, you made it and gave her a hug as well.

We are waiting for Thabo and Sello and his man, Gregory. Dineo is here, but not her daughters. I spoke to

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them and they basically said that it had nothing to do with them. Probably right, but..

Miriam came out as well. She had been busy with some of the cooking, probably peeling a ton of onions. Thandi looked forward to that again .. not!. She looked different. More rounded and smiling, somehow. She looked as though she had found meaning in life.

Thandi! Good to see you. Oh, so many things have happened. But we will talk later.

Sello was there. Hi Sello! You are here. oh yes, and may I now formally introduce my husband, Gregory. Yes, we married in February. Very formal, but they looked just as any other couple, really. But tongues would be wagging anyway.

They all got to sit at a table in the tent. Tebello had rustled up tea and a plate of ‘die keke’. After all, something would not change. What has happened? It all looks so different. Well, we bought this plot, the nextdoor plot. We have expanded the shop now. It is nearly liked a real supermarket. Neo laughed. Tebello, it IS a supermarket now. Even with shopping baskets as well. It is so great, but it has also been made possible because of Miriam. She was a nurse after al and used to admin. So a lot of the paperwork has been given to Miriam. Yes, Tebello said. It has given me more time to plan for what this can be. And that is where we are now.

Next step is to have a small picnic area here on this plot. With a braai area. The village is changing and the new generation wants to have the same style of living as you will find in JoBurg or Cape Town or Polokwane. So we

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better capture that end of the market before others will crowd us.

Amazing! It looks perfect already and I can see it coming together.

And Thabo. You managed to get it all sold. I took the chance and went past. Rondavel gone and Uncle’s plot with a new house and everything. Yes, it took a week’s time. It was fast and nearly before we had any legal opinion. Teboho did a good job in sorting it out. No problems at all.

We got the offer on the main plot and also on hers. After all, she did not want to stay there anymore. That was easy. And father’s sister’s plot went as well.

We divided the revenue from all of this up in three portion, Miriam, Zodwa and her. But you took care of her portion, Thandi? Yes, I did indeed. It was easy all the way She smiled. And there are some details I can only tell next time we are here. years into the future. Oh Thandi, come on, we are dying to hear all the gory details. Well, there are not gory. But trust me, surprises all around.

Anyway, what happened to Zodwa? Thabo knew that part. I got her a house in Kimberley. Small but cozy. It is perfect for her. And as she did not want any furniture or anything from here anyway, we managed to get her installed and getting new furniture in. Nothing that would remind her of here. and no, she is not coming today either. Not that she is upset with us. But she is just not interested after father passed.

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Thandi had news as well. I heard that Jim got locked up for good. A prison sentence of 1 year. For battering and more. But he passed in jail after only some six months. That meant that Refilwe inherited it all. The house, his pension and everything else.

But now, Refilwe is not a vicious person. Her two daughters will be looked after now. Their school fees will be paid and whatever they will do after matric is OK. Refilwe can handle it.

But she did more. She traced Jim’s kids from the other two women. She found them. And she put up an education trust for them. Not big, but sufficient. Sello looked on. Thandi, I know Refilwe, she would not know what an education fund is even if it should bite her in the backside. She must have had some help in setting it up? OK, yes, I did it for her. But the thing is: she wanted to find the kids. And she did.

What is Refilwe doing now then? She is still a teacher in krugersdorp. She is very much a church person as well. Whether she will find a new man or not is a good question. I spoke to her if she would like to come here for the tombstone. But she is busy and I don’t think she would like to anyway. And no, I did probe a bit. No man on the horizon as far as I can tell.

So, glad tidings. Not problems at all.

And the fund? Well, we leave it as is. If anyone is in need, we just communicate on whatsapp. We have put a little executive committee in place, Thabo laughed. It sounds rather bombastic. It is just Sello, Dineo and myself. If it is smaller amounts, we handle it. Bigger

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things will go for consensus amongst us all. Easy really. We should be able to agree on these things after all.

That only leaves her. And everybody looked at Thandi. OK, well. Her name is Dintle. Not a name we hear so often. Miriam was also there now. After having pealed her ton of onions. You must have remembered when they got married, Miriam? Actually, I don’t. the brother was older than my husband and married while I was still at nursing college. I remember I saw her first time when I myself got married. She was an impressive woman but just like normal in dress code and manners.

After the brother sold off the part in the truck business, we did not really associate. I think they had their own little world really. They were never a part of anything around here.

That probably explains a lot, Thandi said. Well, I know a part of the story, but when did she move?

See that is another part of the family secrets. Both Tebello, Neo and Thabo knew this. It was a beautiful sunny Sunday morning … Thabo started. Everybody laughed. Thabo, it probably rained and was cold. Now just get to it and save the poetry!

Ok, it was a Sunday though. Early hours of the morning. I happened to be here just to fix a few things before the new owners took it over. At least father’s plot. Now suddenly a big van rolls up together with a brand new Ford Ranger. The ones with the canopy and big wheels and everything. It looked impressive. Now out jumps a short little fellow and a tall woman. Remember, this is

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where the sale was getting finalised, but not signed yet. So technically, Dintle was still the owner.

Of course I phoned Neo and Tebello. Please come quickly. There are movements on the other plot!

So the three of us went across and asked who they are and what is going on. Dintle – you sure it is her name? nobody has really been in the know, Thandi. But OK, it sounds funny to finally use her name, but OK. Yes, so Dintle comes out of the rondavel and tells us that she is also moving out now as the plots have all been sold.

May I then also introduce William and Ann, my children? Nobody had ever really heard of them. We knew they were in Cape Town at a boarding school and they moved abroad thereafter. So nobody knew them. This William looked us over and said that they were happy with the way the sale had been handled and now please let us get on with emptying the houses. Funny, that they are not using any SePedi names. Thandi had the reason. They grew up in Cape Town. They can probably speak Afrikaans but that is where it stops. English is their mother tongue now. Well, that explains it.

Anyway, so they back the van up to the door of the rondavel, put a tarpaulin up to cover it up, whatever goes out of the rondavel. Two burly guys are busy loading the van as William and Ann and Dintle have a look inside the main house.

It took them a few minutes and as the rondavel was now empty there were a few things from the man house they took along.

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Then this William handed us the keys, as though we use keys here, and said, we are off. And thank you for looking after it all. And thanks for such a quick sale.

.. and then they drove off! That was it! I have never seen something like this. I don’t even know where they went or where they came from. it was just like her, a total mystery. Thandi, fill us in.

William is a banker in Australia and Ann is a head nurse in Manchester. In the UK that is. Whatever was in the rondavel got packed and shipped to Australia where Dintle moved to. William bought a house in Australia, Melbourne. The money was Dintle’s part of the revenue and her own funds. Yes, she did some work and one day, one day I will tell it all, or I will write a book about it.

I have a picture of her as she flew out with William. I was there to wish her bon voyage. Here. And there was indeed a picture of Ann and William and Dintle in the middle. No more blue widow dresses. She was in a bright beautiful summer dress, hair was done up, makeup (discreet though) applied and she looked a million years younger. Still steel in the eyes though but that was camouflaged with a big smile.

My! Is that her? But how old is she? She is only 56. And she still has a life to live. And one day I might just write a book about her.

The

end

This book is all about norms and accepted behavior in a traditional setting in Limpopo.

It is all fiction and really just a good story with lots of unexpected revelations of family ‘secrets’ all spillnig out in the open during a traditional funeral in Limpopo.

As much as it is fiction and a good story all elements can probably be found in any good extended family, but maybe not concentrated into this.

It is a book that puts ‘norms’ into perspective, especially gender roles and points out areas we should consider in creating a just society.

... But is is foremost a fun story!