This year, October 14 2019, marked five years since I last had contact with my family. No communication even from the one person, my mom, that should have had my back all the way.

I would sometimes call my youngest sister and ask if she could give my mother the phone just so I could hear her voice, but my mom would refuse to even say a simple, “Hello”. That too felt like someone drove a knife through my heart.

As time went by I couldn’t get hold of my sister and it became clear to me that I had no one but myself to rely on. The connection faded slowly until there was nothing left of it.

This brought memories of my childhood back. I was in and out at hospital and seeing different doctors for the better part of my life. Now that I’m older I still feel like I’m going through the same thing. It left emotional scars. The words that were said then, that nothing good would happen to me, always torment me.

To think that I had always been an obedient child, I’d never snuck out to taverns, come home after curfew, or slept with a boy back then. I’d always asked myself what on earth they were on about.

Since the passing of my grandmother, may her soul rest in eternal peace, I had to grow up fast and become an adult. She was a spiritual person. She didn’t use any muti or water, all she used was her Bible and used to go pray in the mountains at any time of the day.

My fondest memories of what a family is was when she was alive. We would sit on a mat, read and sing her church songs, sometimes sit outside and have a cup of tea and she would tell me stories for days. Things changed when she got sick. I had to bathe and feed her. My mother made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with her let alone her gift. Her last words to my grandmother were that she would rather die than inherit the spiritual gifts she had.

In the past five years I learned to rely more on myself and God.

My love life is one big mess and it doesn’t last long. If I do make it to a fortnight it’s the longest relationship I’ve ever had. Work is no different from my love life. I sometimes think it’s due to the rift that I have with my mother. I know she’s hurt wherever she is and nothing good will ever happen to me.

I miss home, the environment, but I don’t know what steps I should take to go back. I don’t want to expose myself to another heartache, but I have to face my demons head on.

I saw an old lady being knocked down by a car a couple of months back on my way to work, it was painful to see. I thought to myself: what if that was my mother lying there dead? How am I going to live with myself should she die before we mend our relationship?

Having kids and for them not to know, nor have a relationship with my mother, their granny, does sometimes leave a bitter taste in my mouth. My wish for them is to know her or to even hear her voice. But then there’s this voice at the back of my head that says, “What would be different about them if she doesn’t give two rats about me?”.

The better part of the little time I spent with her she would buy me little things here and there, but the expectation was I would have to pay back the money she spent on me one way or another.

I do the best I can to make sure my kids are well taken care of, with or without the involvement of their fathers. I go all the way to make sure they don’t lack anything and I won’t rest until God decides that my time is up. Sometimes I get where my mother is coming from but for her to take it all out on me is not on. I didn’t ask to be born, let alone be sick all the time growing up. I was constantly reminded whenever I would did something wrong like any other kid, but for me it was more emotional torture.

Whatever I have been through, my kids are a precious gift and I will always protect them with my every fibre.

Knowing who I am and having to learn, accept and be thankful, I now understand why people always say, “Everything happens for a reason” though we may never know what that reason may be. I have worn my big girl pants and I won’t allow anything to derail nor hurt me.

Learn to love, accept and celebrate yourself. Life is a game and just like a coin you can either face it head on or you can tuck your tail between the legs — that’s what keeps me going.

Being a single parent is no joke, but what I don’t want for my kids is for history to repeat itself because they are all girls. I want them to experience a different life than what I have and won’t expose them to such an environment.

How does a person in their right mind, the woman who gave birth to you, ask you as a child to go and borrow money from men for her. What about my safety? Was I the one to rectify her mistakes or didn’t she even care about what would happen to me? I always wondered why she didn’t care about me?

As a parent you should always fend for your kids, you rather go to bed hungry as long your kids have had something to eat. Setswana sere ntime omphele ngwana.

Through faith and belief, God does exist and whatever you go through, he’s always there for you. I appreciate the little and I’m thankful for every breath I take because lately nothing is certain, especially with gender-based violence, raping and killing of children.

My kids are my seeds and I want them to grow up and be better than I am. They deserve happiness, protection and prosperity.

They are great and they are loved.

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Tell us: Have you ever had a broken relationship with a family member?