The last letter

Cynthia started school at the boarding school the following year and her child had a nanny back home. Her mother could not put up with a risk of taking the child to Johannesburg to raise it by herself, since it was chaotic already due to riots and raids. Infact, she did not want the Millers to know about the birth of the child. Miller threatened Cynthia's life and her father was dead so, there was more uncertainty as to how the child would survive in Johannesburg. Her aunt offered to look after the child but Cynthia's mother insisted on hiring someone to help. So, the child was taken care of and her part was to study and pass her grades. She was in one of the reputable boarding schools in the former Transkei region. It was her second year in high school. She became a centre of attention even there and she was popularly known as Miss Johannesburg by her peers for she was among the trendiest scholars. This made her to walk tall with her head held up and her moves made the impact in her surroundings. She was in the villages for heaven's sake and that made her a super star as she knew that she had to up the standard, since she came from the city. She did not even get to that phase when new students would undergo a special welcome tradition by the older students. And the welcome tradition was not a pleasant one indeed. The freshers, as the new students were called, were being treated very harsh by the old student like in the bullying way. They were made to perform duties as assigned by the older students. Most of the time they were made to do difficult task and if they try to resist, they would even be punished for that. Some would cry and their cry would be mocked and thus made them to look like fools. The older students made life difficult for the new ones and no one could do anything as it was seen as the tradition. Cynthia was opposing this kind of treatment but there was nothing she can do. It reminded her of the situation in the white schools were the black students were denied entry because of the colour of their skin. She became involved in student movements that were against the apartheid system. She became one of the famous leaders in student movements. Her name was mentioned every now and then among the names of the students who considered as trouble makers by the white supremacy.

Just like her father, she could not resist to watch a black child suffering under the hand of the white supremacy. She together with other students leaders, organised student's meetings and boycotts. In the former TBVC states, such behaviour was not condoned. She and other leader's names were in the black list. They were given warnings every now and then but they dared to challenge the system as a claim to bring about change in the education sector. As the students in Johannesburg were following at the footsteps of the youth in 1976 where Hector Peterson was among the students who were shot when they were boycotting the lessons in Afrikaans language and the Bantu education system, so they did to make their voices heard. The influence of their movement was spreading all over the surrounding areas. They created controversy amongst the students and they were hunted by the South African police under the the white supremacy. "CYNTHIA RORISANG MATHEBULA" was on the headlines in every newspaper. Her face became familiar with everyone who was in the political world. This made her together with her peers, an enemy to the white supremacy. She was in the list of the wanted. This made her mother to live in fear and agony. The white officials were paying her frequent visits and she was questioned about the whereabouts of her daughter.

The sneaches had given much needed information about Cynthia for the white officials to know that she was secretly visiting other comrades in Johannesburg in persuit of opportunities to overthrow the white supremacy. She was the enemy whom her bay was mentioned in every household. Her mother was anxious and feared for her life. She wrote her a letter after she learnt that Cynthia was no longer studying. She was suspended from attending classes as she was labelled a ' trouble maker'. It became difficult for her to cross the borders between the provinces, since she was hunted by the white officials. Her face was on the boards and everyone was made to be aware of her whereabouts. Her aunt's place became a safe spot for her to hide but she knew that she would be found soon. That was the reason she decided to skip the boarders and go to the neighbouring countries. She was organising a travelling passport when she received a letter from her mother.

The letter went like this- " My dear Thia "

I am writing this letter with a sore heart. The moment I lost your dead every door in my heart was closed. I closed the door if self pity, for I knew I had to be strong for you and your siblings. I close the door of hate because I didn't know who to hate anymore. Some of our fellow comrades had tuned to be our enemies. They sneak behind our back to be the white supremacy informants. I have heard by the rumours that you are among the most wanted. My advice to you is this - you are young and have a whole future ahead of you. You better focus on your education right now and the rest shall follow. I know you love your country just like your father. This time I don't want to lose you. I have lost the pillar of my strength. I want you to be a pillar to your siblings. I don't know how long I will survive this turmoil but I want you to be the ones who pour soil on my grave. Take care of yourself. Give a kiss for me to my granddaughter whom I have not met yet.

Your mother

Sarah.

Cynthia was crying when she was holding that letter. She has taken a decision. She was leaving her country of birth to be a refugee to another country. It was for the best so as she thought. She took another piece t paper and write on it. The letter was addressed to Owen Miller of 5th Milner avenue, Johannesburg. It went like this. " My dear Owen

The berriers of life have prevented us to see each other. We have to be the witnesses of the hate and malice among our parents, our role models. I happened to pay for the sins of my fathers, my grandfathers and my great grandfathers. I don't know yet what their sins were. Maybe it is the colour of their skin. Maybe it is their fault that theirs was darker than other race. I have taken a decision to leave everything behind and start a new life somewhere. Somewhere I can walk freely without producing documents to justify the colour of my skin. Somewhere I won't be afraid to say Africa is my land without fearing a bullet in my forehead. I leave everything behind including our daughter. Yes you did not know that I was pregnant because I was afraid to announce that I was carrying a white man's child. Maybe you will meet her one day. Maybe a day would come when she will not pay the same sin of being an offspring of a black woman.

PS! I have named her Rowena. This time a combination of the first two letters from my Sotho name, RORISANG and your name Owen. I'm sorry it had to be the same name as the man who resents the sight of the seed of a black man. And that man happened to be your father.

PPS! I have enclosed her photos with this letter. She's more like you and me. What can I say, a mixed race.

Yours truly

This.

Droplets of tears were streaming down her cheeks. They formed a v- shape that met at the bottom of her chin. A big drop was formed. It fell on the paper she was writing in. It formed a heart shaped spot between the lines. She looked at it and she wished she could circle it. " I guess love us not enough to break the race barriers" , she said to herself while closing the letter with her thumb and index finger. She looked around the room and blow off the candle that she used to light the room. She turned her back to face the door with a luggage in her back. She was welcomed by darkness of the world outside. It was still the late hours of the night. She did not want to be seen while she was leaving. Most of all she was escaping the wrath of the white supremacy. Should they saw her skipping the country that meant trouble for her. They were looking for her everywhere. She was not sure of her safety but she was risking it all. She had to leave, she thought. She tiptoed in the dark avoiding anyone who could hear her footsteps. She had left a letter for her aunt as well, informing her if the drastic decision she had to make. She wiped the tears and was off to her journey.