Oral History #218

Oral History #218 Born December 6, 1952 Date of Interview June 1, 2015 Interviewer Elizabeth Layton Johnson Family Background I was born on the 6th of December of 1952 at the Bridgeman Hospital now called the Garden City, in Brixton, Johannesburg. My family had two residents, one a business residence in George Goch, Eastern Native Township at no. 59 Mkwayi street. The house consisted of only two rooms with an outside toilet and no internal running taps. At least we had electricity and a coal stove. It accommodated a family of seven after the passing of my dad. We slept like packed sardines with most of my siblings sharing the double bed with my mom, others in the baby’s cot situated in the room that tripled for a kitchen, dining room and a sitting room. Meals together in that tiny triple services room were the best moments of my life. We would, in our childish experiences, laugh, play games (particularly Scrabble, Snakes and Ladders and Ludo) and pray together. There, my mom taught us gospel principles and a lot of values like why you must wash your hands before meals, tell the truth so that your Angel can have a good story to share with the others and Heavenly Father at night and that cheating at a game was not a sign that you were smarter than those you were playing with. Then there was a myth that the powerful dinosaurs were the animals you had to conquer with the truth before you could cross the river Jordan to access heaven. The moral of the lesson was to highlight the mighty power of the truth. In the early fifties my father bought land in Evaton during the then British government and he built a fourteen roomed home that had a borehole and water running in the house, a bathroom and inside toilet. Evaton was amongst the first areas like Winterveld now in the North West Province and Alexander, South of Johannesburg, that allowed Africans to buy and own land. In Evaton we had a home that accommodated the entire family comfortably with vast land for planting and growing our own vegetables, crops and an orchard and animals. Today it is called substantial farming. Oral History #218, Claremont Mormon Women Oral History Collection, Library of the Claremont Colleges, Claremont, Calif. 1 I do know more about my mother than I do know about my dad. He passed on when I was two years old and I don’t know him. I do have a very fuzzy idea that he once picked me up in his arms as a baby, I’m not sure whether that’s the truth, or if it’s just a figment of my mind. But I know of him from what his peers shared with me and the things I read about him in magazines and newspapers and very little from my mother. I was always conscious of the sensitivity of asking my mom about my dad and I concluded that the lesser told about him by her, the lesser the pain it would be for her. Come to think of it, I was so young, still at school at Orlando High under the principalship of a great mathematician, Dr. Tamsanqa Kambule. I spoke to elderly people like Edward Dube, Richard Maponya, Sy Kutumela and Dr. Sam Motswenyane to mention a few to tell me more about my dad. My mother was born in Standerton. She was the third daughter of the family and the fourth child (the last born). Her father passed on when she was four years old, and then she stayed with her mom who did laundry services for several European families in the area. Her father was a teacher by profession as well as a pastor of the Methodist church. My mother says at a tender age, she stayed with her grandmother when her mom was compelled to move to Johannesburg to look for better opportunities. This is when she learned more about the various plants and herbs, their use and how to grow them. She said her grandmother taught her how the various plants helped with different kinds of disease, and she would advise her which of them would be ideal for their use, be it their leaves or the use of the roots for medicinal purposes. And that’s how she became curious about plants intrigued with nature and ended up being a lover of gardening, inspiring the communities around her to do likewise. Perhaps if there were better advanced education opportunities for African people then, she could have ended up being a great homeopath doctor or a pharmacist. My mom was a wonderful person. We shared the same month of birthdays. She was born on the 20th and I was born on the 6th of December. She often said to me, “Watch my life and take notes.” She had a very great personality. She was a great scholar. She was a great teacher. She was very perseverant and she had a great sense of humor. My mom had a very firm belief in our Heavenly Father. I know that she had no one else to hold onto when she was left a young widow and expecting one of my sisters, including the care of all of us small children. She also had extreme responsibilities of managing a business and two homes approximately 250 km apart. My mother grew up an orphan, and so was my dad. The Nhlapo family raised my dad and desired him to adopt their surname, but he rather opted to retain his own surname. As a result my dad didn’t have much elderly advice on what would inform the family traditions. My mom grew up in a Christian background, and most of the family members and her siblings were religious people as well, being pastors of different churches, and they were also teachers. So they had one solid foundation that God reigns supreme in their lives and education is the key to liberation. Oral History #218, Claremont Mormon Women Oral History Collection, Library of the Claremont Colleges, Claremont, Calif. 2 Regarding traditions, my mother said, “Traditions are the things that families do together that inform their behaviour culminating to be identified as the family culture and tradition. That defines your value standards and what people ultimately identify and know you to be.” I will tell you of one tradition that I recall very well. We always had Family Home Evening without knowing that it was Family Home Evening. We called it Family Prayer Time. We always had our prayers at eight o’clock each night, and this is still one of the practices that we've all carried to our own homes even to this day. It did not matter where we would be, that was the time that united us in prayer as a family. When my mom was in prison, my brother in prison, or I would be out of home, it did not matter where one would be, we would strive for a break towards eight o’clock to go into an exclusive place like a bathroom to connect with the family in prayer. That is a tradition that we have. We did not buy new clothes for Christmas. We washed and ironed and wore our Sunday best. We all rose early on Christmas morning to go and clean my dad’s grave at the cemetery. We would sing his favourite songs like “Sun shine just where you are” and “Ukuhlabelela kuyamthokosiza odabukileyo, hlabelelala” (Singing pleases/ comforts the sad, keep singing). Then afterwards we would have a prayer, often delivered by my mom. Traditionally we would each pick a little stone and spit on it and heap them at the head of the grave. I’ve never understood nor questioned it. But I think it was a sign of reverence and a kiss. From the cemetery the whole family would go back home to finish the lunch preparations and the setting of the luncheon table. My mom sat at the head of the table and I loved being treated like an adult, serving myself. Regarding African traditions, my mother never slaughtered animals for any of the dead. She told us as children that if we wanted to give her meat, we should do it whilst she is still alive. She often said, “Don't make excuses when I’m dead and start slaughtering cattle and tell people that you’re doing work for them down.” (It is a common practice amongst us African people to slaughter an animal as a symbol of either appeasing the ancestors or as an expression of gratitude or consultation). She told us that when she passes on, we should not bother to wear black, because she is going on a lit path, so we should wear white, which we did at her funeral.( I want that too for myself.) And she further told us that we should not say or write messages of, “Rest in peace,” because she’s going on to work. Some of the basic rules or guide she gave me as a young married mother was that I must practice high levels of hygiene to save on doctors’ bills. To keep the home environment clean at all times. I should have a time table of bathing and feeding the baby properly. Whilst breast feeding I should not give the baby divided attention lest I would choke the baby. Do not kiss the Oral History #218, Claremont Mormon Women Oral History Collection, Library of the Claremont Colleges, Claremont, Calif.

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