If I were a book, shelved in a bookstore or library, I would have a garden of roses as my cover. They would look all red and beautiful. I would have a beautiful young lady dressed in white, with her hand feeding her mouth with a strawberry and the birds surrounding her not running away from her. I would roughly attract you, I would spell romance and fairy-tale ending. I would look like I only hold good news, and that whatever you read from me will be inspiring and breath-taking. My life is very much synonymous with the saying꞉ Don‛t judge a book by its cover.
I have always disguised my true life and that has never bothered me. It is almost as if it is a skill I have been taught, but I honestly know how to run my life wearing different masks. I learned to value the power of a roof and appreciated the things that the walls of my home were able to hide. I remember when I was in primary school I always knew that whatever happened in the house, was to be only known by us and that the roof and the walls that neither have eyes nor ears or a mouth – won‛t tell on us.
When the white dining room wall was painted with the food my father threw on it because we didn’t buy salt and thus the food was tasteless, I knew that the wall was faithful. Where were we going to get salt at night? South African culture doesn’t allow salt to be bought at night and we had to bear the wrath. I hated him for doing it next to my cousin who had visited. He shouldn’t have done that. I felt sorry for her because she wasn’t used to that, but I knew that it was my kind of normal and I was content with it.
I knew that the sun would shine and I would go back to school and live that perfect life I portrayed. I was a beautiful actress, I knew my lines and you wouldn’t find me crying over what he did last night. I loved to hate him, I knew him, and he was predictable. Don’t take a look at my beautiful, typical romantic cover and judge because within me, there are many parts I have played and these roses drawn on my cover were crafted during my roleplay.
Take time to know me and you will understand that when the artist heard the title of my book, in his head, Romance was what came to mind. With me, I know that the cover might not be my life, but it is what I wish to have. It broke me and threw me into a halt when my younger sister started creating holiday outings we never went to. I knew that the four of us knew our part, but I was angry that she had to lie like that. I guess her book was crafted with lies as mine wasn’t. I went to high school and my father passed on the 4th of October 2007. I was torn inside. But still, the cover would attract you. It would call on you to buy the book.
I kept it all in and tried to force my life to go the way the script allowed me. Just like any actress, I knew when to separate my real life to my acting life. I was strong outwardly and always knew what school was for, it was for the betterment of my life and for me to fulfil the cover. Maybe you can judge the book by its cover since it is what I aspire to have, a peaceful life.
I finally cracked, but on my own, two months after his death and I realised that all things left unsaid, still haunt me. In my role I cried, I cried when I heard Steve Harvey saying that we have so many fathers, but not every man can be a dad. I knew that my cover was full of hope. You see, the thing about the cover of the book is that it is for marketing purposes. What if you see the sad and depressing story on the cover will you still buy me? Even now, I don’t mind having a beautiful cover and a sad story as long as you are buying what I am selling.