Page 9 - The Mending Season

Since my mother gave birth to me so soon after my eldest aunt s death, I was named Tshidiso, meaning one who brings solace to mourners. From childhood, I made no distinction between my birth mother and my aunts. I was raised equally by all three of them and always felt like I had three mothers. I called them all Mmamane, the term for a younger aunt on the mothers side. Mmamane Mabatho said that originally I called them all Mama and then one day I just started saying Mmamane and never went back.Our neighbours called our house ko haloing, “home of the witches”. I heard them talk about Mmamane Malesedi run­ ning around naked on hot Sunday afternoons, chasing men out of our house and onto the street. People still claim to remember the colour of her panties - beige ones that I have never seen - and her untidy mop of hair standing up straight as she ran out with a knife in her hand. I heard men and women whisper,“Her breasts were as firm as a young girls.” “She would threaten murder.”“She wore nothing.”“She only wore those panties.”“I think that pair is the only one she has.”But I had no idea what they were talking about. Sure, Mmamane Malesedi was often angry and strict with me, but of all the aunts I had never seen her undressed.Yes, I had seen all three ofthem furious, but this was mostly when a teachers beating left bruises on my body. I once came home with my backside covered in blue and purple stripes from being thrashed with a cane. I couldn’t sit down without wincing from the pain, which sent all three aunts marching to school and demanding that the teacher be dismissed.“Outlaw the beatings!” they insisted to a stunned Principal Chauke. They wanted him to make caning illegal in his school. They always wanted the rules changed. No wonder9