3.
As I walked into the foyer of the school, I could not help the feelings of nostalgia that ran through my veins. We looked at all the photos proudly displayed along the walls, bragging of past pupils and their achievements. Lance, however, was only interested in finding one that had my face on it and when he did he squealed with delight.
‘Look Nana! That’s you; I’m sure, you look so funny.’
We all had to laugh and true enough, there I was, in our class photo, sitting next to my dear friend Daphney. The headmaster Mr Lancaster introduced himself and escorted the four of us to the staff room where all the staff members were waiting for my arrival for a buffet of tea and biscuits. It was somewhat daunting walking into the staff room. So much had changed and my memories were so different to what I encountered at that moment.
After tea and cake, the assembly bell rang, and all the teachers made their way to the stage in the school hall. A hum of voices and pounding feet could be heard down the passages, as the children made their way to the hall and ushered to their assigned seats. As the honoured guest, I had to walk into the hall alongside Mr Lancaster – down the middle aisle and up to my seat on the stage. Fortunately, he offered me his arm, steadying me and making sure he kept to my slow pace. The assembly procedures had not changed, and while sitting in my seat to the left of the stage, I giggled as I found the seat where I had sat in the gallery in my final year. The nonsense we would get up to in that gallery during assembly made me want to burst out laughing just at the thought of it!
Then the nerves set in and my hands started to shake as Mr Lancaster began to introduce me to the entire school. The headmaster strode over to my seat and presented his hand to help me up and walk to the podium in the centre of the stage. My legs wobbled as I grasped his arm tightly, and I felt sure that the pale blue dress I had on was not the right one to wear – who knows why I thought of that then. The applause finally ceased, and the children sat down in their chairs once again, intent eyes boring into me, and utter silence, waiting for me to start. The front rows on either side of the aisle always got reserved for guests, and I sought out Gorgie, Daphney and Lance, who smiled and waved at me. I gave dear Lance a little wave back, took a deep breath and moved closer to the microphone.
‘Hello. It is so special for me to be invited to speak to you all today. It has been sixty years since I was last in Amanzimtoti.’
A murmur filled the hall, but I continued, my voice still shaky.
‘I went to school here. It was very different then but in a strange way it was the same. The assembly procedures were exactly the same.’
I put a huge emphasis on the word “exactly”, which caused a giggle to ripple through the hall. I explained where I’d sat, and I waved at the young lady who now occupied the seat, she blushed as she waved back, much to the amusement of her peers. I cleared my throat, my voice grew stronger and I continued, ‘Life in my final year at this school was fantastic. We were so excited to be seniors, to finally be heading out into the big wide world to fulfil our dreams. I met the man of my dreams that year. He did not go to this school and was three years older than I was. At the time, he was working for the old AECI plant. We fell madly in love and the year after I finished school we got married. You must all remember that getting married so young was normal and almost expected in those days.’
I could hear mumbles from young girls disapproving of such a notion. I smiled and went on speaking.
‘We were so in love, and within our first year of marriage I was pregnant – again this was a normal way of life in those days.’
I couldn’t help grinning at the looks on some of the young girls’ faces. They looked horrified at the thought of being married and pregnant by the age of eighteen.
‘We were blessed with a son. I was completely and utterly in awe of the miracle of birth and our gorgeous baby boy, whom we named Damian.’
I looked at Gorgie who handed Lance a gadget on which he liked to play games. His father gently put the earphones in his ears, and I was grateful for the common sense Gorgie had, not to allow Lance to listen to my story of woe and pain.
‘With each day that passed, the bond between Damian and me blossomed, and with each passing day, my husband grew more and more jealous of the time that I spent with Damian and not with him. He withdrew from our little family unit and developed a temper I had never known he could possess. Damian was utterly dependent on me, and as a mother, there was no thought in those days of going back to work a month after giving birth. You stayed at home and raised your children; it was your duty. Our son was equally dependent on his father and yet my husband only increasingly saw him as a threat.’
I took a deep breath. It had been a long time since I had reached into the memories of those horror years and even more so to speak to strangers about them.
‘The first time his jealously became too much to bear was on a quiet evening at home. We were watching television when Damian started crying in his crib. I got up to attend to him, and my husband flew into a fit of rage. I was so shocked I just stared at him. I did not know what to do or say. I just stood in the middle of the lounge floor frozen, while Damian’s crying increased rapidly. Realising I had to comfort my son, I took a step toward the crib and the next thing I knew I was on the floor, blood dripping from my mouth.’
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.
‘My husband stared at me with a look of confusion, anger and disbelief on his hard face. He could not believe what he had done and immediately regretted it, swooping down to help me up and apologising profusely, begging for my forgiveness. He even took charge of Damian while I cleaned my face in the bathroom. As he held Damian in his arms, I returned to see a picture of love between a father and his son. I thought that would be the first and last time such an incident would happen. But I was wrong.’
Daphney held my gaze and winked at me even though her eyes were welled up with tears.
‘The tantrums and violent behaviour increased as he found it easier and easier to explode over the smallest things. I became a nervous wreck, and Damian could sense that, which in turn affected him as he cried more and more just to be held. Any simple little thing could set my husband off – such as the food not being quite ready when he was hungry. The acts of violence grew with each episode until eventually he used his fist and would not stop hitting me even when I was cowering on the floor.’
The hall was silent; no one wanted to breathe even for fear of disturbing the chilling story they were bearing witness. Gorgie and Daphney both looked at the floor; I think looking at me was just too hard for them to bear. I swallowed the tears and the cry that wanted to escape from my throat. My hands shook almost uncontrollably and for a moment, I wondered if I would be able to get through my testimony.
God, please give me strength, I silently prayed as I paused to compose myself for the audience of children and teachers alike waiting in anticipation.
‘Toward the beginning of the violent outbursts, my husband would apologise profusely afterwards, and I would always forgive him, thinking he would not do it again. After a while, he stopped bothering to apologise, and instead threatened that if I ever did whatever it was that I’d done wrong again, the beating would be even worse. And every time it was. I was too afraid to go outside for fear that someone would see the mess I was in.’
I looked at Daphney, her face stained with tears.
‘My friend here,’ I pointed to her, ‘came to visit me one day, concerned that she had not seen me for some time, and she was horrified at what she found. She put Damian and me into her car and drove us straight to the police station. I protested, but she finally convinced me to lay a charge of assault against my husband. And the police immediately arrested him. He got released on bail that his friend posted, and arrived at the house in the early hours of that morning. He dragged me out of bed, threw me against the wall and threatened to kill both Damian and me. I pleaded. I begged. I cried. He just kept hitting me. Somehow I managed to get out of the room and run to the kitchen – the room furthest away from Damian’s.’
Shaking, I took a tissue from the pocket of my dress and wiped away the tears that ran down my face. I tried desperately to compose myself so that I could get the rest of this awful story told.
‘He came toward me like a bull on a rampage. He had a belt in his hands, and I knew he would not stop until I was dead. As he approached me with his arm out to deliver the next strike, I grabbed the frying pan that was drying on the dish rack and swung it at him with all my strength. It hit him on the side of the head, and he staggered backwards and fell, hitting his head on the kitchen table on his way down. He was dead before he reached the floor.’
You could cut the silence in the hall with a knife. I stopped talking and tried to compose myself by wiping away my tears and swallowing the lump jamming my throat closed. Then I took another deep breath, my lips quivering, and I went on.
‘I didn’t know what to do. I screamed, I cried, I fell to the floor next to him, shaking his limp body wishing it to come alive. Then slowly reality dawned on me, and I went to the phone and dialled the police, and then Daphney and then I went to get my child that was still crying. The police and Daphney arrived together, and I was in a total state of shock, horrified that I could have done such a terrible thing. I was even unaware of the blood that ran down the side of my face, dripping onto Damian as I held him.’
Everyone was frozen to their seats, mesmerised.
‘After a lengthy police investigation, I was freed from all charges of manslaughter, culpable homicide and others. But, how did I get over such a tragic and horrific crime that I’d committed? Well, the truth is that the images of that day, and all the pain and guilt I felt, never left me. In desperate need of counselling, and trying to find peace within my soul, I went to church with my friend.’
Again I looked at dear Daphney, who smiled back at me, blowing me a kiss.
‘I was told that day that forgiveness comes from God. We are all sinners. That God died for all our sins. And if we give our lives to God, we can start our life anew. Our past is exactly that – the past. God gives us a clean slate. That from that moment on, if we walk the path of righteousness for the rest of our lives, with God we will have peace, we will have an understanding. We will have love and live in abundance. We will live forever. And if we do not live for God, His love and protection cannot work for us. That day I chose to live for God. That day I chose to live in peace and in love with God. That day I chose life forever. From my story I do, with all my love, hope that you young ladies will realise that it is so important to find a man that will not abuse you and most importantly, one who loves God. And to you, young men, I hope that you will serve God and be kind and gentle to your girlfriends, and one day to your wives. Life without God is no life at all.’
There was a moment’s hesitation and then Mr Lancaster stood up and began to clap his hands. Not even a second later the hall erupted, and for what seemed like forever I stood there – having bared my soul to strangers, in a town that I had left, in a place I’d thought I would never see again.
I had come full circle. I could live with what little time God had left for me, in complete peace and happiness. Through a horrific tragedy, that I thought I would never get over, I'd found peace and love and happiness, but only by the mercy and grace of God.