Swaziland: If heavens exist, Nomsa Zwane deserves one!

Mbabane, 2 August – On Thursday, September 23, 2010 at 12:46pm I posted the following note on Facebook, “If there are any heavens, surely my mother deserves one”. For tolerating all of us – the whole bunch – the moods, the irresponsible behavior, the poor choices, the terrible company we kept and for going against almost everything she taught us. With the dedication of a monk, she prayed and hoped we would turn out to be decent human beings. Her firm guidance changed us from little untamed monsters to human beings worth sharing living space with.”

I don’t know how she does it, but I am better person for having been carried by her womb. I never want her to need anything and in the event she needs something, I make sure I provide with ease.

“To Nomsa Zwane, you’re the one thing that makes complete sense – you are beautiful, smart and open-minded for a woman in her sixties. You learnt to drive at 20, managed to raise six children and were a doting mother and wife, a businesswoman and a teacher – I find that remarkable and think you always were and still are a true feminist. Despite all we and the world put you through, you are forgiving, patient and the best counsellor a girl could ever ask for. I love you to bits!”

When I wrote this note, going through the motions, reflecting on what a sheltered and comfortable life I had led because of her, I immediately called her and we had our usual spiced-with-laughter conversation. No matter how low I felt on any given day, I knew I could count on her soothing voice and guidance to change everything.

Her most amazing quality was the power to forgive – no matter who had wronged her. She would always make peace, noting that life was too short to harbor grudges.

I write of her in the past tense because I recently lost her to the cruel hand of death on Saturday, May 12, 2012. On that day, I lost the best part of me – the cheer in me died with her and a numbness I had never felt overcame me.

A month after her passing on, I added a comment to my note “reflecting on this note a month after your passing on Mum and I have no regrets, none at all. We gave each other the best of our lives. I miss you though, terribly.”

I feel a flu coming on and only u would know what to do – I feel an urge to kick everyone who dares to annoy me these days and you’re no longer there to keep me in check. It’s really tough without you but I am humbled that our paths ever crossed – that you were my mom is an added bonus. Nobody can ever take your place! You’ll live forever in my heart!”

Almost three months later, I still wake up with tears in my eyes in the mornings. Sometimes I reach for the phone and when I am about to dial her number I remember that I will never be able to make another call to her. The only consolation is that she was truly at peace with everything and she prepared for the end as if she knew it was near.

She would often speak to my siblings and I about how she expected the family home to be run after her death, what she wanted at her funeral and how our lives would be perfect if we left everything in the Lord’s hands.

Looking back, I feel truly blessed to have had a mother who spoke frankly on issues and had the kindest soul ever. Even when we had let her down terribly, she would not raise her voice or scold us but would gently say, “I hope you have learnt the error of your ways and will not make the same mistake again.”

Our children learnt impeccable manners and values from Nomsa Zwane for she doted on them in every way and taught them that the only unconditional love they would ever get was from the Lord.

A retired teacher who never rested a day after her retirement, a devout church fund raised for church projects and a member of the pensioners association in our home town who always found ways of making her fellow pensioners’ lives better. This is Nomsa Zwane for you.

She gave freely of her time and resources. Our home became a half-way stop for kin and strangers alike. Whenever I went home, I always found her busy with community projects and she always spared the little she had for a stranger’s school jersey or socks. How she managed all this on a pensioner’s salary is clearly a mystery I will never solve.

If only I could be half the woman she was, the world would be a better place for having had me in it.

Bongiwe Zwane is a writer and public relations practitioner based in Swaziland. This article is part of the Gender Links Opinion and Commentary Service, special series on celebrating phenomenal women, bringing you fresh views on everyday news.