Chapter 2: A rising death

Wiping the sweat away from her brow, Tanya peered straight into the scorching heat. Her face was covered by the wide-brimmed hat, her eyes protected by dark sunglasses ─ the heavy-duty kind that hardly allows any light to pass through.

It was early November with no sign of rain in the sky. The previous day they had a few drops which splattered onto the dust-covered earth, but it had made no significant difference to the parched earth. They needed a downpour soaking the earth, and soon.

Death was around her in various forms, and it didn’t discriminate between the strong and the weak. It was as if the Grim Reaper had a license to kill and touched everything with robustness. Fires were a constant enemy due to the scorching heat, and with the dry winds it ran rampant over the veld destroying all in its path. At times she could swear she heard death laughing at their expense ─ he was a living being who had carte blanche on everything that had breath and he revelled in every minute of their anguish.

With a last glance over the dry veld, she turned her back on the vegetable garden and made for indoor cover. She tried to maintain the feeble veggies, but between the sun and the lack of water it was impossible. Every drop of water that she could save was put in the ground, nursing the seedlings to yield a harvest: even if it was just enough for her and her son. She didn’t ask for much, but now and then help would be appreciated, she thought with some aggression.

“Ma, what will we eat tonight?” Steve asked and drew her back from her morbid thoughts. Her boy has grown the last year. Again, she looked at him, fascinated, at her kid’s lanky body. Soon he would tower over her, she thought with a sad smile. Crouched in front of the fridge, he scanned the meagre contents of the ice box. She knew there was not much to look at. Their options became slimmer by the day and it pained her. She had no idea what they would do once it was done.

In town the people were already fighting about the scarce food supply and she would rather stay far away from that commotion as possible. Violence was at the order of the day and no one was safe. Law enforcement was useless and would rather take part in the looting than protect the innocent. She tried to visit the town a week ago, but only got so far as the outskirts when gunshots were fired and a bullet slammed into her car. The bullet’s trajectory ended up close to Steve’s head, leaving a burnt hole in the headrest of his seat. She knew she would not make that mistake again.

She brushed away the wisps of hair from her wet forehead, “I will have to open a few cans. Get some in the cellar.” she requested with a tired sigh.

She hung her hat on the doorknob, placing her spectacles on the shelf next to the now-empty spaghetti bottle. She could still remember a time when all the canisters on the shelves were filled with a variety of noodles, pastas and rice. It was her pride and joy, decorating the cheerful kitchen with all kinds of bric-a-brac. Now they were empty reminders of a past she could only vaguely recall.

“Okay, Ma.” He ran outside, his thick blond hair rustling as he moved. He jumped over Brutus, who lay lazing in the scant shade.

The once-beautiful oak tree gave plenty of shade when it was younger. She could remember the countless times she played under it: Her, Etienne and Susan. Now there was barely enough shade left to cover the dog’s body. How things have changed over the years!

The once-abundant country had become a shadow of its former self. With each passing year of the last thirty years things deteriorated. The more people complained, the worse it got, with a government that was only looking out for themselves. The masses that helped to get them there long forgotten. She could remember her father arguing with the Water Board about the poor maintenance and the pollution—it was like talking with ignorant children that had no idea of the importance of the issue. Later on it became worse when the sewerage systems failed and the river was polluted. Even though they tried to filter the water, E-Coli became a constant threat.

They held meetings with the councillors and ministers even went as far as to rally in front of the Union Buildings - all in an attempt to convince the regime that they had a potential problem on their hands.

Even the threat of enormous lawsuits didn’t scare them into action. They would find loopholes to cover themselves, unwilling to admit that there was a problem at all. Empty promises resulted in more decline until, thirty years later the once-blooming province became nothing more than a wasteland. This soon went on to affect the rest of the country, since Gauteng was a major source of supplies to the rest of the country. Horror stories inundated social media networks and it spread like the infection it was.

Once a fertile piece of land that delivered vegetables to a retail group within the city, which in turn supplied the whole of South Africa, they had to scale down until there was only this little piece of land left standing with their house on it.

Her grandfather was murdered during a farm attack the same year she turned twelve. He was brutally massacred. Her father’s blood curling screams still filled her ears at night when he found what was left of his father. His killers were never found. The house was burnt down, losing everything of value they had within that fire.

Her father had to try and rebuild with money he didn’t have. Then she saw the changes in him: The bursts of anger followed by long silences as depression overwhelmed him. Then the alcohol started. It was a slow process where he just didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone. He refused to take care of the simplest things on the farm and neglect was evident everywhere, even in himself.

Her mother left them when she was sixteen. She refused to take care of him any longer. She had met a black man, a wealthy businessman from the city and ran off with him the moment they had sensed a spark.

The last time she saw her, she was living in a shack near Nelspruit, alone and hopeless. Tanya had heard they had a child together. The man left her with nothing to support herself or the child. Her once vibrant and pretty mother had become a completely different person. Lack, neglect and poverty had taken its toll over her. The bastard child, her half-brother, was playing with the kids in the filth and dirt as if it were the most natural thing to do. All the wealth the man had promised her was a scam and he had left her mom broken. She had tried to help, but after a while she couldn’t do it any longer. She barely had enough for them as it were.

She offered them a place to stay on the farm, but pride or foolishness – Tanya wasn’t sure which – caused her mother to turn a deaf ear to her assistance and she declined her offer.

Tanya tried to reason with her, gave her the full picture of her situation and that of the decaying country. Told her why they should come and stay with them, but her mother was adamant that she would make it on her own.