When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

As months went by, Lubabalo proved that his life he was really changed; he was a different man. Although he hadn’t stopped taking drugs, he wasn’t taking anything from anyone. He would wake up and clean his home, work on the yard or wash his clothes. Some days he would just stay home and watch movies. He loved comedy, action, horror and even romantic movies. We would have inspiring chats most days, other days he would spend time with his nephew and niece.

He did everything that made people smile; he was different. At the same time he looked like there was something in his mind, sad and painful. One Sunday morning, just like any other day, I woke up and played music. I started dancing in the living room but I was too lazy to clean, and Bhuti he was there.

“Bhuti do you remember that time you said I should wash the dishes for you and you would wake up in the morning and clean for me, but you never did?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he said questioningly.

“Well, I’m just saying you should keep your promises,” I said walking away.

My words must have got to him, because he did the cleaning that I was supposed to do. I thanked him and he saluted like a soldier and left to chill with his homies.

Little did I know it would be the last time we would speak! A half an hour or so later, there were two guys screaming and knocking at the door. They said Lubabalo has been stabbed and it wasn’t good; he was bleeding fast so they took him to the hospital.

I remember trying to keep it together but just felt the end was near. I had never prayed as much as I did that day, asking – pleading with God that Lubabalo be OK. I couldn’t stop crying.

His twin sister and mother came, and they were worse than I was I was. When I got there he was not covered and seeing him lying there pulled something deep within me. Upon seeing him, his mom gave out a cry, “Yinto endizay’thetha nobani le?” I just took off the hat I was wearing and started wailing.

His death came as a shock to everyone, from family members to neighbours. The all said he got lucky many times, and most people thought he was using muthi, but the closest ones to him knew it wasn’t true.

I really never thought I would get through it. I even remember telling my mother that, she said in time I will, but I didn’t believe it. And I can’t say I’m over it because I still think about it. It’s only been a few months and I’m trying my best, but it’s not easy.

The person who did it and the story behind it is still not clear. His friends had said they stabbed him. But till this day, that murderer is running free and doing more damage.

It doesn’t seem like there is much justice in our country. But all I know is every dog has his day. I choose to remember my uncle for good the rest is his history. This is my dedication and my healing process.

RIP NDLOVU LZ born 1986,12,12 died 2013,05,26

[The End]