The sunset

Mme Mathebula could no longer carry the pain and suffering. She succumbed to sickness that was the result of stress and the hardships she suffered during the times of her arrests. She breathed her last breath at the hands of her children who cried inconsolably, for their pillar had fallen. They Crit because she was their last hope. Who would protect them in times of persecution by the white supremacy. Who would make sure they get all the necessary needs even if the times were hard because of financial constraints. Their Shield had been taken away. The news of her passing spread like wildfire. Everyone was broken by the news. Her wishes to see the better and democratic Republic became a dream that she took to another. Her loved ones consoled themselves by believing that her spirit lived on although she had passed on.

Her other family from the liberation movement she was part of, together with her relatives gave her a dignified send off although the white police were wandering like strayed dogs to monitor the funeral, incase they perform their liberation struggle activities. Remember the political parties were banned and no political gatherings were allowed. That was the reason the police would use their spray guns and even the real guns when they saw a crowd singing and dance. This would happen at the night vigils. Police would open fire even the gathering was church related. This would get worse if the vigil was meant for the burial of a member of a liberation movement. They would open fire and shoot people mercilessly. As a result of this many people lost their lives. Mrs Mathebula was celebrated for her courage, resilience, and fighting spirit. She was laid to rest and only the memories of her hard work were left behind. Her fellow church members and her fellow comrades took where she left and they helped her children where they possibly can. Things would never be the same though, their mother was everything to them and her place would never be filled by anyone. They took one day at a time and were trying very hard to heal although their wound was very deep. They first lost their father, then their mother and their sister was no where to be found. The worst part of it, they were not sure if their sister was alive or dead. Some days they hoped to see her entering the gates of their home. Life was not the same without the elder members of their's family. This made them to lead the life of adulthood while they were still young. They had to work hard for survival while they carried on with their studies. Their aunt who was their mother's only sister came to Johannesburg to stay with them for a while. That was when they saw their niece(Cynthia's child) for the first time. They felt a bit sense of belonging. Their aunt was like their mother. But their aunt' stay was not permanent. She had her own children in the former Transkei. So, she had to pay them occasional visits to make sure everything was in order.