Growing up, Thabiso was told that his ability to hear the dead was a gift. Unfortunately, he did not share this view.
“Not everyone is able to connect with their ancestors in that way,” his paternal grandmother, Nkgono Mapaseka, would remark.
His mother, Phumzile, was more concerned that this ability would eventually derail his career. Phumzile’s mother, Khanyisile, was a traditional healer who received the calling at a very young age. Khanyi, as she was called, used to have dreams about people she knew in the community. Shortly after she told those concerned of her dreams, the dreams would manifest in reality.
This resulted in some treating her with great suspicion, while others badgered her, asking if she had any more dreams, or if she could interpret their own dreams. It was all too much for a seven year-old girl to take on. Khanyisile eventually fell terribly ill, to the point that doctors were at a loss as to what was wrong with her.
It was only after she consulted a traditional healer and held a special ancestral ceremony that she was healed. Then she was able to start consulting patients. Of course, unlike Thabiso, she wasn’t a lawyer living in the big city.
Was it a gift to lie in bed starring at the ceiling because the voices grew too loud? Was it a gift to have dreams that were often so vivid and violent that you woke up with unexplained scratches and bruises? Was it really a gift?
Thabiso remembered, with tears in his eyes, how a few weeks ago the voices became too much. He was representing a client in the Magistrate’s Court. The Magistrate, known for his poor sense of humour, did not take kindly to a lawyer yelling ‘No! You shut up!’ while he was in the middle of cross-examination.
Even his colleague, who was generally not startled by much, jerked in his seat at this outburst. From that day, the rumours began to spread down the corridors of the courts.
“What am I supposed to do?” he snapped at Nkgono Mapaseka one afternoon as he recounted what had happened.
His tone was not well received. Nkgono expected all her children and grandchildren to keep themselves in check when speaking to her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he stammered.
“Look, you are not the first to have this tremendous gift thrust upon you, and you are not the last! My grandmother, your great-great-grandmother also had the gift.”
Thabiso cringed every time he heard the word ‘gift’. To him this was a nightmare that threatened his career, relationships and sanity.
“She was able to use this gift to help many families. Don’t you want to help others?”
The question, infuriated him. Kgono was clearly trying to guilt trip him into believing that his ability was something to celebrate.
He was about to launch into a tirade when Thulasizwe, his brother walked in, forcing him to suppress his frustrations.
“Thabiso, there is someone on the phone for you.”
Thabiso snapped, “Who the hell is it?”
“I don’t know,” said Thulas, as he was affectionately known.
Thabiso got up and stormed towards the door, leaving his brother standing with his hands raised in the air, as if submitting himself for a body search. His grandmother quietly shook her head and turned to stare out the window.
***
Tell us: Where do you believe dreams come from?