GOLD MASK

PROLOGUE

“Sobonana kwelinye ilizwe,
Kuyabanda ekhaya awukho
Ndinxamele ubona uncumo lwakho
Sihleli siphele sisqhazolo.”

My sister’s angelic voice sang as they lowered my mother’s coffin to the grave. MaXulu. The woman who single handily raised me and my siblings after our father passed so suddenly. She was the best mother any child could ever ask for. I never thought I would be saying goodbye to her so soon. My sister sang so beautifully and so fearlessly. Unlike me, she wasn’t emotional and she wasn’t the type that showed her emotions in public. She was the type to break things in private when angry or sad.

My arm was wrapped around my little brother’s shoulder who was sobbing loudly. My own tears were heavy on my eyes but I refused to free them. People were watching. Waiting to see my reaction. Waiting to see my emotions. They may have said words of comfort during the week but I knew they didn’t sympathize with us. It was all for show. People do anything just to be viewed as sympathetic and kind. They always use occasions like these to make themselves seem or look like saints.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Throwing the soil inside her grave made it all seem real. I was trying so hard to keep it together. I sniffed and looked at my sister. But one look from her was enough to make me wipe away my almost falling tears. She was 3 years younger than me but she was braver and very stubborn. My mother used to say she was exactly like her growing up. If I wasn’t mourning the death of my superwoman, maybe I would have time to talk about how good of a man my father was when he was still alive. But not good enough because after his death, his family chased us out like we were nothing.

“Come. Let’s go.” My aunt, Tumelo, said as she helped me up. I didn’t even realize that everything was done and people were now heading back home. That is all they cared about nowadays. Walking back to my childhood home, I was stopped by a few of my neighbours and people whom I considered friends. All they cared about were pictures. I didn’t even pay attention to them. I walked inside the house to find people going up and down causing chaos.

"I need to go cool off.” My sister said walking in to our mother’s bedroom. I decided to just be by myself and give myself some time to breathe. I nodded looking at her. “We will be fine.” She said with a small smile before heading out.

We wouldn’t be fine. But I didn’t wanna burst her bubble. I heard my aunts saying something about selling this house and kicking us out. I didn’t understand why they were this cruel. My mother wasn’t even buried when I heard them making plans of taking over what belonged to her. I did a diploma in Consumer Sciences and even graduated but my mother’s health is what that stopped me from going to work in a different town and started taking care of her.

Loud laughter made me nearly jump up. These people didn’t care about what MaXulu’s children were going through. Her being six feet under meant it was over and all was well with them. Their 5 seconds of sympathy was over and it was time for them to go back to their true selves. Their sheep skin was slowly coming off. It was hard to ignore all of this. Entertaining this charade meant I didn’t have to think about where my siblings and I were going to go when our uncles chased us out.

“Cuz we are preparing for the after tears. You are joining us, right?” a cousin of mine said barging into my room. I was super confused. Like my mother died. She really died. She was not coming back. I was still finding it hard to accept her death and here was someone who wanted me to celebrate or drink over her death. Was she for real? I just shook my head and faced the other way. “Your loss then but I will definitely save a pack for you. You need it.” She walked out closing the door behind her. I curled my body in the centre of the bed and just sobbed. I allowed myself to cry away all the pain inside my heart. I knew one session of crying wouldn’t be enough but I had to release some of the pain inside. Walls were closing in on me and I was suffocating. I didn’t know who to turn to or who to talk to. Everyone was fake and untrustworthy.