I grew up with my grandmother in Khayelitsha. She was a domestic worker and also sold cool drinks from home to generate more income as her salary was not enough. We were not a well-off family but my grandmother worked hard as she was also building her house by herself. Things were not easy but we went to bed with something in our stomach. I was lucky enough that my grandmother would be given old toys and books by her employers. I would play with the toys, read the books and l believe that’s how l developed a love for books and reading. I would spend more time at home l hardly went out to play outside with my friends because l was mostly occupied with toys and books. I got to spend most of my time with my grandmother. She also became my friend. I would go with her to most places like when she was going to church, visiting friends and relatives and shopping. My grandmother was also someone who was driven and determined. She believed in education so much. There was a time when she attended a program for adult education where they learnt literacy and numeracy. She was also a great believer and wanted to study towards becoming a preacher but she struggled with her health so she passed away before she could fulfil that dream.

The passing of my grandmother came as a shock to me even though she had been sick for some time it never crossed my mind that she would die. I still remember the last day l visited her at the hospital she was much better than the last time l had visited her. I had hope she would return home soon but that was not the case the cancer had taken her away from us. From the time l received the news of her passing up to the day of the funeral l never shed a tear. I thought l was going to be a mess on the day of the funeral and cry but l didn’t it turned out l was still in denial. If you ask me today, that’s when my problems started. I struggled to accept that my grandmother had passed away. I kept hoping she would return from hospital.

The real grieving doesn’t start straight after the passing but after the funeral. When the people have stopped to come by and offer their condolences. People will start to forget after the funeral and move on with their lives. I had to move with my father’s side of the family shortly after the funeral to be able to continue with school. I felt l was surrounded by people who didn’t understand what I was going through. Life was normal for them but it wasn’t for me. I needed to be around people who were familiar with my grandmother and reminisce about our memories with her. I had to suppress whatever l was feeling and move on.

All of the suppression resulted in delayed grieving. After some time, l had days where l would wake up feeling extremely sad and missing my grandmother. It would even be hard for me to get out of bed and l would be sad throughout the day. The hardest part was that l was told l must not say the words “l miss my grandmother” because it was traditionally believed that l would also follow her and die.

It has been now 10 years since my grandmother passed away and l am still grieving her. Grieving my grandmother has become part of my identity. There is a part of me that is scared that when l let go of the grief l will lose the connection l had with my grandmother and so l have found comfort in it. There is also a part of me that wants to let go of all the pain that comes with the grieving and be free. I want to choose the latter and l am still taking baby steps. I have hope that one day l will completely heal and be at peace with everything but now it’s still a journey ahead of me.

This piece was written as part of the Fundza Fellowship Programme.