My Life Story- childhood and early teenage years
A life story is a story filled with both happy and sad or painful memories. It gives one a wonderful feeling remembering all the good moments of the past; the painful memories are never pleasant to think about though and often bring tears to one’s eyes. Well, with the good and the bad, here is my life story.
My name is Thamsanqa Tembani. I was born 9 December 1989, at Red Cross hospital, in Cape Town. I am the only child of my mother, Nosipho Gladys Tembani. For the first two and a half years of my life, I grew up with an aunt of my father, at NY 150 Gugulethu (in Cape Town). When I was three years old, my mother took me to Transkei, in the Eastern Cape (E.C), to live with my grandmother in a village in Cofimvaba, named Qitsi.
I spent two years living in the small and rural village of eQitsi. Though I can’t remember much from this period of my life, things that I do remember is the love and care I always received from grandmother, and how she always made my favourite meal, mpokoqo. One thing she always shouted me for was that I always came back home dirty, after playing with other children. Growing up in Transkei, a boy has to take out cattle, sheep and goats for grazing in the field and bring them back home in the evening for milking. Though I cannot clearly remember doing this, with my love for animals and farming, I am sure I accompanied my elder cousins when they did this chore. When I was five years old, I moved to a small town in E.C named Tarkastad, where my mother worked as a teacher.
In Tarkastad I lived with mother and three cousins, in Zola Township. I started crèche in 1995 and in 1997 I went to Tarkastad High School (has classes from grade 1 to grade 12), where I started grade one. I studied at the school up to grade 2 and then I moved to Cape Town and studied grade 3 and 4 at Chapel in Woodstock. After two years of living without mother, I missed her, and I went back to Tarkastad and finished the rest of my schooling there.
Though Tarkastad is a small town, divided into a town and a township, it exposed me to many of life’s realities. Because I went to a ‘white’ crèche and a model c school in town, I had many white friends. As I visited many of my white friend’s homes in town, I realised how they had everything and how people living in the township were struggling to survive. One thing I also realised from my friends homes is that they lived with both their parents; many of the homes in the township were headed by single mothers, and this was the case in my home.
Seeing that my friends had fathers in their homes, I started to wonder where was mine. I remember asking mother and her reply was simply that he is not here and he does not care about us. At the time, mother said this in a light-hearted manner, and it never really bothered or hurt me. As I grew up and matured, the words stuck with me and they started to hurt. Time passed and I got to know that my father lives in Cape Town and is a manager at Edgars (clothing) store. Growing up I thought he could not live with us because he was struggling financially, but after I got to know what work he does, I realised that he is just a man who could not take responsibility for his own actions and that he had fathered many kids before and after I was born. Till today, I have never received a call or had any visit from the man who is my father.
Growing up in Tarkastad with mother and many cousins, it was always difficult to make ends meet on a small teacher’s salary. Mother was the only provider for everything and she always strived to ensure that we had everything we needed. Because she wanted to see our family educated, mother took the children of other family members who were struggling and educated them.
Though we never had everything, growing up with many people at home, there was never a dull moment. The house was always filled with fun, laughter and love. Mother has been and still is the backbone of our family.
