Lydia Mokaila. That was her name. Ousi Manthonyane. One of the elder sisters who influenced my life. Everybody who was older than us was either Ousi or Abuti! So I can only refer to her as an elder sister in English. With all its deficiencies.
I struggled for weeks searching my fading memory for her name, yet her facial and body features remained engraved in my mind. How could I forget her? She was going to become (so I believed) my elder brother's wife or whatever! The hope of an unrealisable future.
She belonged to the Royal family in Mahikeng but I realised that much later in life. When such connections meant very little to the present rulers. Or to most people.
She was part of a group of role models that we looked up to at St. Mary's Mission School - ko Roma - in Lomanyaneng. Our prestigious Alma Mater. There were several of them abd I remember just a few: Patience Sqongana (eldest daughter to Mistress Bella Sqongana, who taught at Methodist School) and whose younger sister was Sarah. My classmate and rival for Number 1 at every test. Together with Sarah Matsheng. But I am digressing.
Then there were Ousi Trisa (Theresa) Msumbu, parents from Northern Rhodesia (later Zambia) who almost became our sister-in-law through her affair with our eldest brother -'uBhut Ndleleni (my aunt's son). No mzala about it!
Ousi Theresa's name sake from the Stadt belonged to this group. She became a teacher at St. Hubert's in Alex in later years - and was living with other teachers at the Khoza home, on Second & Third Avenues. The property belonged to the Catholic Church in fact.
Then there was Ous'Hilda Mbumbu Zungu, who went on to become a Staff Nurse at Baragwanath, and got married to someone in Orlando East; where her younger brother Henry, the greatest collector of comic books, eventually went to stay. They lived on Sampie Street, and their mother seemed to be related to our father. One could never be sure, as every elder seemed to call others as Buti and Sisi. We children could not work out these crosswords, and we couldn't ask.
And I remember also Ousi Rebecca Logan - also of Zambian origin, whose younger brother was Tsurupe. He was cross-eyed, igxwem in IsiXhosa. They were Catholics too. And went to Slurry during holidays like the Msumbus, where their fathers were employed at the slate factory. We called it ko-Selori! Their home was on the same street as ours in Pump Street. And next to one roomed houses on either side' where the occupants were crowded in one house, and we never got to know them all. The other, at Number 9, belonged to a man who was known as the fastest driver in Mahikeng. We were told he took 1 and 1/2 hours to reach Johannesburg in a Buick. Or a Ford V8.
And lastly I remember Ous'Cecelia, related to Ous'Trisa, who saved me from drowning in the Molopo River after a Boer child from the Cronjé clan had pushed me into the river. I was five years old' in 1942 when that happened. Ous'Cecelia's younger brother Gabariele became one of my close friends later. The family was wiped out by Tuverculosis, except Abut'Joe who lived in a rondavel alone. Their tow-roomed home next to that of the Msumbu's in Small Street, was demolished in the '60s along with others at what later got named koMakweteng. At The Ruins! Which is all that was left when one visited the area, until another settlement rose there obliterating all traces of where we were born. Except the uncared for graveyard where my parents are buried. I wish I could trace Ous'Lydia Mokaila's family again. To close a chapter from our apartheid past, which tore us apart. And people just don't know what it cost. Or caused. Deep wounds. Lasting scars!
Yet I remember so many wonderful people from those days whose memory is etched in my mind. Who are hardly known today.
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