A few days later, I was going to get water from a tap that was miles away when I met a young man who was looking for Sis’ Thami. Unfortunately, Sis’ Thami was not around that day. She came back late and I gave her the letter. She read it then handed it to my mother.

“How did they find us?” asked my mom.

“I don’t know, Dora,” said Sis’ Thami.

My mom threw the letter in the bin and went to sleep. When everyone was sleeping I went to look for that letter in the bin. It was from correctional services. A man named Sizwe Manqele was begging to see Sis’ Thami and my mother. I slept wondering, but I hoped that I’d get answers the following day.

The next day when Sis’ Thami and her children were gone I sat with my mother.

“Mama you never told me about my father. Who is he?” I asked her.

“I was coming from school and I was raped by group of men. Months later I found out that I was pregnant,” said my mother.

“Why did you and Sis’ Thami run away from home? Who is the man who wrote you a letter?” I asked.

“Funeka, I am begging you sanalwam, don’t asked me these kind of questions again,” she said sadly.

I could see that her mood had changed so I stopped asking questions. I decided to reply to the letter from correctional services, pretending to be my mother. I knew that I was committing a crime, but I needed to find the truth.

Finally the big day arrived, although it was a surprise to my mother and Sis’ Thami.

“What is happening here?” asked my teary mother.

“Ndixolele Dora (Forgive me Dora),” said the old man.

“Forgiveness Tata? Tell me how do I forgive you? I’ve been trying to do that for 23 years but I’m failing,” my mother said weeping.

The prison wardens that were with Sizwe Manqele asked us to sit down and talk. My mother didn’t want to talk but after some time she came around.

“Dora you trusted me with your life. A role of an uncle is to protect, love and care. When your mother passed away I promised to take care of you but I was a total monster. I took your innocence and impregnated you. I chased you out of my house after that. Thami my daughter when you tried to show me my wrongs I physically attacked you. I respect you for standing for what’s right. My time has come, please forgive me so that I can rest in peace,” said the old man.

“This old man is my father?” I asked.

“Ewe nguyihlo lo Funeka (Yes this is your father Funeka),” said teary eyed Sis’ Thami.

I was numb. I didn’t know what to say or ask but I could imagine the burden my mother was carrying all these years.

“Tata I don’t think we will ever forgive you but thank you for making an effort to come and see us,” Sis’ Thami said pointing them to the door.

“ Mama I am sorry for inviting them here,” I said crying at my mother’s feet.

“It’s okay Funie baby. You had to know the truth I’ve been hiding from you. Get up sanalwam,” she said lifting me up.

“I want you to know that you are the strongest and bravest woman I know. Thank you for not aborting me in the situation you were in.”

“Nawe Sis’ Thami thank you for being there for her,” I said turning to Sis’ Thami.

We sought healing and moved on with our lives. The law gave my mother all my father’s belongings because she stayed with him for 18 years. We moved back to our house with Sis’ Thami and I went back to school the following year. Sizwe Manqele passed away in prison.

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