The love one gets from one’s parents is like nothing else on earth, Siphokazi thinks as she lies in bed. She remembers this love clearly and misses it dearly although it is now going on 10 years since her parents passed away.

“If I had the power to choose what happens in life, my parents would not have perished in that fire that burnt them to ashes,” she whispers as she turns in bed.

Siphokazi is now 21. Life has been tough in the past 10 years. She lives in Nongoma with her grandmother, who only earns a government social grant. That has not deterred Siphokazi though: instead, the hard life she lives has made her inventive. Since she was 13 years old she has been making extra cash by washing clothes for people in the area. The money she makes, as well as her grandmother’s grant money, helps them to just keep their heads above water.

She has learned many life lessons from her grandmother, but in the past few years she has had to learn a lot on her own because of her grandmother’s deteriorating health after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Siphokazi had dreams of passing matric, flying through a BComm degree and getting a high-paying job. But that has had to be put on hold because she has had to take care of her grandmother.

It is December. Siphokazi has found work scarce because the many young people studying or working far away are home for the holidays and doing the washing for their families. She is thinking about how to make some money when she hears Gogo’s voice outside her bedroom door.

“Siphokazi, my grandchild, are you awake?” Gogo inquires.

“I’m coming, Gogo,” says Siphokazi.

“Hurry, I’m dying of hunger, my grandchild.”

Siphokazi makes porridge while looking at her 67-year-old grandmother. The Alzheimer’s has made her age a lot in the past four years. She sometimes forgets who Siphokazi is. She has forgotten how to cook and read. That makes Siphokazi even more sad because Gogo cooked the best food and she used to help Siphokazi with her homework when she was in primary school.

There is a knock at the kitchen door. It is Nonkanyiso, Siphokazi’s cousin, who lives a few houses away.

“Wow, cousin! Awake so early in the morning?” says Nonkanyiso

“It’s just after 8, so it’s not so early,” says Siphokazi.

“It’s too early. If I were at varsity, I’d only wake up around 10.”

“Well, you guys do as you please at varsity. But if you have to hustle like I have to, you learn to wake up early. It just becomes part of you,” says Siphokazi.

In the momentary silence, Siphokazi lets out a deep sigh.

“Tell me, Siphokazi. Why don’t you further your education? I mean, you passed very well in matric. I know your results will get you into the best universities in the country.”

“It’s not as easy as you put it. I have to take care of Gogo. She has deteriorated lately.”

“Be that as it may, cousin, I still believe you should be at varsity doing a degree. You’d find part time work and make money to pay for someone to stay with Gogo and look after her. I know your father would have wanted that for you, he was the best uncle one could wish for. He always said you and I would be the best in our family,” says Nonkanyiso.

“I know that, Nonkanyiso. But—”

“But what? Siphokazi, it’s time you stand up and go after what you want in life. I know you love Gogo and you want to take care of her. I know this is a tough decision but I think going to varsity will help both of you in the long run.”

“I hear you, Nonkanyiso,” says Siphokazi.

They spend the whole day together. They clean the house, talk and look after Gogo. Talking with Nonkanyiso makes Siphokazi miss the days when she used to talk with her mother. She was the apple of her parents’ eyes because she was an only child.

She dishes food for Gogo, but her heart is in pain. Tears fall down her cheeks as she lies on her bed. She wonders if the pain of missing her parents will ever heal.

Tell us: Have you ever lost someone you loved very much, or had to take care of someone infirm? How did you manage it?