Grieving what could have been purpose…

Part of our reawakening Africans theme is to speak to the realities that impact us as Africans. We want to debunk some of our struggles and find solutions to better our communities. Lets just say bringing back the heart of communities and reaffirming our African identity.  With that being said, life is short and it is disheartening to depart without fulfilling purpose. 

It was 14;00 pm SAST on the 4th January 2024 when my little sister and I received a phone call from our dad informing us that our cousin passed away. For a moment we sought out relief and then you know that whisper that reminds you that blood is thicker than water. Let me just say, my little cousin was ‘’iPhara’’ loosely known as a criminal. A very well known criminal in the rural villages of Kwa-Zulu-Natal Pietermaritzburg. 

Yes, we all have that one family member that causes harm in the community and sought out to commit crime as a way of life. I thought that I would tell a story of rehabilitation however that is not the case. 

Let me take you back to my childhood.

My parents are villagers and emigrated to the city for economic opportunities. Growing up, it was essential that we, my siblings and I got exposed to the various ways of life. Hence, during school holidays we would be shipped off to the villages to learn how they were raised and what life looked like on the other side. There we found our cousins who would ensure that we had the best experience in the villages and yes we did. That’s where we met my cousin uNondaba.

Nondaba was a very timid young man. He smiled and giggled with his gappy teeth. He was a happy kid and very generous. Young as he was at the time would take us through the rural villages of Pitermaritzburg. We saw the beautiful mountainous Natal and would walk long kilometers just to capture the spectacular views. He knew the ins and out of the villages, even where one could hide. My fondest memory of Nondaba was when he would take us to hunt for ‘’imbiba’’ known as mouse. They would gather with their sticks and the chanting began. From the chanting I could hear ‘’lala phansi’’ and ‘’nayi’’ meaning stay down and strike. The fire would be blazing to prepare ‘’imbiba’’. I can’t forget the distinct odor from ‘’imbiba’’ and I couldn’t  fathom how they would eat it.

One thing I can share is that they believed that ‘’imbiba’’ would give them strength. These times indeed were refreshing. Nondaba grew up to be one with nature and very shrewd. A risk taker and calculated. It was his canning nature and survival skills that kept him afloat after dropping out of primary school. He was indeed a young man with a plan.

I don’t know which part of his plan fell short; however, everything fell apart when he was introduced to  the life of drugs and crime. His way of life switched from survival to causing harm and destruction in the villages. He went from being just a village kid to becoming a villain. I still cannot comprehend how such a timid young man became feared and a slave to substance abuse. The ‘’induna’’ loosely known as the chief had given him various warnings to change his way of life but he didn’t.

As a family, we had no control of his actions; we just waited for the law to take its cause. Yes, the law took its cause. He was arrested in 2023. Prison did not rehabilitate him. I believed it protected him and kept him from harming people. It was not even a month after being released from prison he endeavored on his destructive ways that caused him harm. On 31st December of 2023 he was assaulted and sustained a head injury and on the 4th of January 2024 took his last breathe.

Crime and substance abuse are a challenge in our communities. The disheartening aspect is that these criminals we refer to as ‘’ama-phara’’ are our brothers and sisters. We grew up with them and have fond memories of them. We also see them evolve into this destructive way of life.

Their evolution is a cry for change and unity in our communities. Maybe as a family we could have done better in guiding him and ensuring that he stayed in school. However, we cannot guarantee that his life would have turned out better. Instead choosing the life of crime also became a burden to him. What quality of life is that when a young man his age slept with a hammer because he knew that at any given moment they would come for him. Yes, they did and his survival skills carried him to his grave.

On behalf of the family of Mncwabe, I  sincerely send my apologies for the destruction, harm and pain caused by my little cousin brother. I therefore plead with families in the same predicament to unite and find ways to address crime in our communities. I will be using the life of Nondaba to find ways to address crime and substance abuse. This for me is also a reminder that prison is not a rehabilitation center, that people need to be rehabilitated and assisted. As for us as a family, we will find rest in the predicament. Also, we carry the burden that your grave is no longer empty. Therefore, the purpose cannot be fulfilled. 

Phumula Mnguni, Khathini, Dzana…

Picture taken at his funeral by my dad at Pietermaritzburg. 

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