Today is my grandmother’s birthday, she is eighty. I have been blessed to know her for many of those years, I won’t say how many, wouldn’t want anyone doing some calculations now, would we? I call her “Makhulu”, a Xhosa word for grandmother.
So Makhulu has this wicked and not so jolly sense humour and likes to tell us how much we will miss her once she scores herself a spot in the grave. Or how we will only be coming back for her funeral if we spend years without visiting her. Well, this is always directed to me, as I have a sickness of disappearing from the face of the earth every once in a while. I haven’t seen her in ages, also won’t say how many. I’m going to visit her today, and cannot contain the butterflies in my stomach.
I would never forgive myself if I had to tell people only when she is gone how much she stepped in as a co-parent and confidant for me. How the loving look in her eyes always convinced me that everything will be fine.How her sarcasm always cracked me up in the most bizarre way.How I always enjoyed sitting and listening to her stories, family history, life in the time of Ian Smith, buying cars in the spur of the moment courtesy of Muzorewa’s bonuses for civil servants, being married in a Xhosa home as a Ndebele woman and trying to adjust as an “Intlanga”, an infamous term the Xhosa people use for one who is not their own.
As my sisters and I talk about her, Ding points out the fact that Makhulu is not really a people’s person. She never pretends to like people, she never forces friendships, but it’s a different ball game with us. She loves us, she will follow up and check on us, her love for us is genuine. With us she throws away her pride, she becomes vulnerable.
Charmy wouldn’t bear the thought of not having a chance to tell her of how selfless and considerate she is. She knows her as one woman whose ability to give is not limited by lack, she will gladly sacrifice to be penniless or should I say bondless(Zim shenanigans), just to put a smile on her loved one’s faces. Natasha describes the way she is always fair, and kind as well. You see there are no grey areas with Makhulu, when you are wrong, you are wrong. She does have a bit of a quick tongue though, especially if you rub her up the wrong way. That woman will quickly tell you where to get off. She is big on respect and believes that it it’s earned, so she doesn’t dish it out where it’s not due. Which becomes a bit embarrassing for us when we see her not bulging and telling someone off.
Makhulu is easily one of the most giving and compassionate women I know. Growing up we had a lot of cousins, aunts and uncles living with us. I don’t know how it all worked out, all I know is that as a child I would think they were visitors but they became part of our lives. When she lost my grandfather, and we grew up and started going our way trying to figure out this life thing, she adopted secondary school students every year to occupy the second house in her compound. These were students whose homes were far from school, they were not from her village, she did not know their families, but she took them in, gave them a place to stay and saw them through the duration of their secondary education.
If she were to die, these are probably things that would be said on her eulogy and more. Some stuff would be exaggerated, people will make it seem like she was a perfect angel, (some people have this belief that you don’t speak ill of the dead.They can speak bad of you while you are alive, but not when you are dead.) Well, I don’t want to be scattering roses when Makhulu is gone. She is an amazing woman and I want her to know that she is appreciated, loved and cherished. I celebrate her life today and hope that I still have more with her.
The unconventional unpacker 