them up from the clutter.
My life is much easier to deal with now that stalking Taboka is out of the
equation. Shoot! I said his name. I have put five bucks in the No Stalking jar, Kate and I came up with. Every time we mention something about our past
imaginary boyfriends, or even think about checking out their Facebook pages, we
donate to the jar. At the end of the month we are going to use the money for
shoe shopping. I think my jar is going to fill up faster than Kate’s. It’s
going to make me broke too. I already got like a twenty in there or something.
I have to look for these gym tracksuit pants I bought a while ago. I’m sure I
put them in my wardrobe. If I can’t find them then my sister has them. She
likes taking my things without my permission, to wear them when she’s in the
house no how. I buy them to wear out, and she wears them to do her laundry. I
feel very frustrated. I don’t want to look like an idiot on my first day at the
gym...oh, there they are. That’ a relief. My tackies are clean and ready to go.
I wonder if I should go to sleep early. I’m going to be there at six in the
morning, and then rush to work before eight. Mum keeps calling me, I don’t know
why. I’ll just ignore her, pretend I’m taking a nap. I’ll wear a t-shirt as
part of my gym attire for now. Once I’m all trim and fit, bring on the tight
fitting vests that will show off my six pack. Ugh! She’s still calling me. I
should go and attend to her, or else I’ll never here the end of it.
Mum was lying comfortably on the sofa,
watching a local debate show on television while dad was on the far end of the
living room, reading a newspaper. I felt a tea errand coming up. You know, I
hate making tea. I think at my age, and after so many years of doing it, I’m so
over it. This is why I need to move out soon and go to college, and live a tea
free life for a while.
“Yes mum?” I said, from behind the sofa. It
is rude, talking to someone older than me from behind. She’s probably going to
hint it, but I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m in an independence mood and
all my morals have gone out the window, I guess. Fine, I’ll walk over to the
front of the sofa.
“Celeste dear, I just wanted to let you
know that this weekend we are all going home to the village. The elders have
called for a phekolo and we all need to be there. It is part of the
reason why your sister’s coming,” she said after reducing the volume from the
television.
Home? The
village? Great, just great! I have a trip to Kalamare this week which I have no
say in. A phekolo is a traditional cleansing ritual performed by
families to get rid of all the bad karmas or curses that may befall the family
or someone in the family. The whole family gathers at home, and we slaughter a
beast as a sacrifice to the gods, to remove any bad luck or curses from the
family. They bring in traditional doctors to run the whole thing and then we
eat the cow meat during a big feast. Then everyone goes back to their daily
lives the next day. But why is it so impromptu this time? The elders always give us a heads up a month before the ritual. Don’t they get that some
of us are just beginning to have lives? I have to go to the gym and concentrate
on my weight loss, you know. I had planned that the next time I saw the
extended family, I’d be thinner and they’d all crowd around me throwing
compliments at my slimmer waist line. But it’s probably for the best, my rakgadi (aunt) Bontle (my older sister is named after her), would be devastated if she
saw me slim. She always says that I have the family bone structure, big and
full figured, all the women were. Yes, and they all have diabetes, she never
mentions that . Another thing, I’m going to be forced to eat the meat
that is going to be offered to the gods as a sacrifice...uh-hum! Does the term vegetarian mean anything to these people? If my mother really cared about my new
lifestyle, she wouldn’t be forcing me
My life is much easier to deal with now that stalking Taboka is out of the
equation. Shoot! I said his name. I have put five bucks in the No Stalking jar, Kate and I came up with. Every time we mention something about our past
imaginary boyfriends, or even think about checking out their Facebook pages, we
donate to the jar. At the end of the month we are going to use the money for
shoe shopping. I think my jar is going to fill up faster than Kate’s. It’s
going to make me broke too. I already got like a twenty in there or something.
I have to look for these gym tracksuit pants I bought a while ago. I’m sure I
put them in my wardrobe. If I can’t find them then my sister has them. She
likes taking my things without my permission, to wear them when she’s in the
house no how. I buy them to wear out, and she wears them to do her laundry. I
feel very frustrated. I don’t want to look like an idiot on my first day at the
gym...oh, there they are. That’ a relief. My tackies are clean and ready to go.
I wonder if I should go to sleep early. I’m going to be there at six in the
morning, and then rush to work before eight. Mum keeps calling me, I don’t know
why. I’ll just ignore her, pretend I’m taking a nap. I’ll wear a t-shirt as
part of my gym attire for now. Once I’m all trim and fit, bring on the tight
fitting vests that will show off my six pack. Ugh! She’s still calling me. I
should go and attend to her, or else I’ll never here the end of it.
Mum was lying comfortably on the sofa,
watching a local debate show on television while dad was on the far end of the
living room, reading a newspaper. I felt a tea errand coming up. You know, I
hate making tea. I think at my age, and after so many years of doing it, I’m so
over it. This is why I need to move out soon and go to college, and live a tea
free life for a while.
“Yes mum?” I said, from behind the sofa. It
is rude, talking to someone older than me from behind. She’s probably going to
hint it, but I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m in an independence mood and
all my morals have gone out the window, I guess. Fine, I’ll walk over to the
front of the sofa.
“Celeste dear, I just wanted to let you
know that this weekend we are all going home to the village. The elders have
called for a phekolo and we all need to be there. It is part of the
reason why your sister’s coming,” she said after reducing the volume from the
television.
Home? The
village? Great, just great! I have a trip to Kalamare this week which I have no
say in. A phekolo is a traditional cleansing ritual performed by
families to get rid of all the bad karmas or curses that may befall the family
or someone in the family. The whole family gathers at home, and we slaughter a
beast as a sacrifice to the gods, to remove any bad luck or curses from the
family. They bring in traditional doctors to run the whole thing and then we
eat the cow meat during a big feast. Then everyone goes back to their daily
lives the next day. But why is it so impromptu this time? The elders always give us a heads up a month before the ritual. Don’t they get that some
of us are just beginning to have lives? I have to go to the gym and concentrate
on my weight loss, you know. I had planned that the next time I saw the
extended family, I’d be thinner and they’d all crowd around me throwing
compliments at my slimmer waist line. But it’s probably for the best, my rakgadi (aunt) Bontle (my older sister is named after her), would be devastated if she
saw me slim. She always says that I have the family bone structure, big and
full figured, all the women were. Yes, and they all have diabetes, she never
mentions that . Another thing, I’m going to be forced to eat the meat
that is going to be offered to the gods as a sacrifice...uh-hum! Does the term vegetarian mean anything to these people? If my mother really cared about my new
lifestyle, she wouldn’t be forcing me
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