Zephany. Joanne Jowell
even went with her when she went into labour. You’d want support at a time like that. I felt sad for her.
So my dad came home from work and there I was.
At the time, we were living in Sea Winds. We stayed there until I was about three or four and then we moved to Hillview. We moved because my mom had a miscarriage. She was pregnant after having me. I remember coming home from crèche one day and she was just on the bed, crying and crying. I questioned my dad when I was a bit older: ‘Daddy, why was Mommy crying that day?’ He told me that she had lost her baby.
My mom said she needed a new environment, and that’s when we moved to Hillview.
I remember going to school for the first time. It’s actually one of my saddest memories. When it came time for my mommy to let me go by the door, I didn’t want her to leave. I was crying so loud, like, ‘I don’t know these people, I don’t know these children – you need to sit with me in class.’ I remember I cried the whole entire day that she had to fetch me early.
Back in those days, my daddy used to drink. But when I was thirteen years old, I got very sick with meningitis. I was in hospital, having a lumbar puncture, and that was the turning point for my dad. He couldn’t handle seeing me like that and he made a religious vow: if God would make me better, my dad would stop his drinking and stop going around with his friends. And he did. He hasn’t had a drink since – and I’m now 21 years old.
Growing up, we often had family gatherings and they would always be at our house because that’s just how my mom was: she would always bring everyone together. She is the eldest and she felt strongly that family must be together, stick together, spend time together.
I grew up very selfish. My aunty and them would always say that nobody was ever allowed to push me around or speak badly to me because my mom would always back me up. I grew up with the selfishness of an only child, even though my brother Gerald was there.
Gerald is actually my cousin, but I call him my brother because he grew up in our home. He’s my mom’s sister’s son and my mother raised him – he’s 31 years old now. He was with my mom before she and Michael even met. So my mom took him in when he was about a year or two because his mom couldn’t afford to raise him, and I think the dad wanted to give him up for adoption. When the social worker came to see them, my mom said: ‘Give him here, I’ll raise him, and I’ll support him.’ When she met my dad, he just came to know that this is Lavona’s son. So Gerald would call my mom ‘Mommy’ and he would call his own mom by her name.
Although my brother lived with us and was always there, he is ten years older than me so we didn’t really have a friendship. I know he used to take me places and he will always tell people, ‘Don’t mess with my sister,’ but it was never a bonding relationship. Gerald had his own room, he had girlfriends. He was extremely close with my mom.
So I always felt like an only child because I was basically treated as one.
My earliest memory is of going camping – I have a picture of me and my dad sitting on a rock at Soetwaters camp site. We used to go every year until a certain age, I can’t remember what age. It was my immediate family and my cousins, my brother’s friends – we’d all go in summer time. It was so nice. My dad and his friends would make potjie. I loved to swim and stay for hours in the water. My older cousin had to swim with me and she would literally be shivering, but I would always tell her: ‘You’re not getting out, you’re going to stay in with me till I get tired.’ She’d be shaking from cold, but she would never leave me alone in the water.
I don’t mind the cold. My dad and I used to go to St James beach and we’d swim even when it was raining. It was so much fun. I could spend hours in the sea. I always wondered what was out there, past the horizon. I’m a very curious person. I used to like a good mystery … that was until my life turned out to be a whole mystery of its own, strange and full of secrets.
Gerald moved out of home when he was about 23, at the same time that we moved to another house, in Gladiola Road. I was thirteen and I went to high school that time. I had always had my cousins around – obviously not knowing that they’re not my cousins – and that’s who I’d go out with. When I got to high school, I started making new friends who were older and even in Matric. I didn’t hang out with the cousins as much anymore because it was all about friends at school. I started wearing short dresses and heels. My mom is a seamstress and she’d make me dresses. Sewing is where she got her income, like she would do children’s tracksuits for school and sport. She sewed at home – we had a section where her working area was – and she made all sorts of things: pyjamas, onesies for the children, dresses. Here – I think I have a picture of one of the dresses she sewed for me when I was about sixteen or seventeen.
* * *
Miché turns her phone to show me a picture which could just as well have fallen from a modelling catalogue. Admittedly, it’s more about the bod than the dress, though the dress looks catalogue worthy too. The only fitting response is a wolf-whistle, but since I’ve never mastered that, I settle for an emphatic, ‘Yowzers!’
Miché laughs. ‘That’s when I still had a body! Hopefully I’ll get it back some day.’
MICHÉ:
You can see that the dresses were all short, hey? She didn’t mind making them like that, she just wanted me to be responsible. My daddy and my brother would say, ‘Why are you wearing that?! Where are you going? It’s cold outside, put on a jean or something!’ but my mom would let me wear what I wanted, just always telling me to be responsible.
My mom isn’t the angry type. Like if I was late for stuff, or lazy, she’d never shout and say, ‘Get up, get moving.’ But at the same time, she didn’t let me get away with it and she would know how to make me feel guilty. She’d be more like: ‘Do you want to stay at home forever? Do you want to go work at Checkers? You can go work at Checkers if you see yourself there. You can live here for the rest of your life and travel with a bus to Checkers. It’s your choice.’
I always used to be smart about how I did things because I didn’t need to go behind my parents’ back. They were upfront and made sure I understood the consequences; then they’d leave the choices to me.
That’s still the type of relationship I have with my dad. He’ll say, ‘You know what’s right and wrong, you need to do what’s best for you,’ not like, ‘You keep making stupid mistakes, and you’re silly for doing this.’ I appreciate it because that’s how I’ve learned to grow up. I don’t feel I have to hide things because my daddy’s going to skel. I don’t feel pressured because of fear of what my mommy’s going to do. Just afraid of disappointment.
I was a cheeky child, but I never wanted to disappoint her.
Even in high school she used to tell me and my brother, ‘You don’t ever let me come and embarrass myself at school because of your behaviour.’ She was very straightforward about things and you don’t disrespect her.
I was never so naughty that I caused her disrespect in school. Like drugs and things like that. I had a bit of weed twice, but I never had a drug issue. Weed wasn’t for me – I got scared of myself, and I never did it again. I don’t like that feeling, not knowing myself or being worried about my own behaviour. That’s why I’m not a drinker or a smoker. I would go out, yes, but you can’t get wasted and then come home to parents you respect. And of course once I had a child myself, there was no way. I know if I get into trouble, my daddy would be there for me. He’s not the type to turn his back and he’ll always help me. But I won’t ever take advantage of his goodness, especially because I know the hurt that he’s been through with my mommy.
My parents hardly ever argued in front of me. The way I know they’ve had an argument is when they’re quiet with each other. Maybe we’d get into the car and my mom would say, ‘Ask your daddy what he wants to eat.’ Or my dad would say, ‘Ask your mommy if you have to go now.’ Then I’d know that they were arguing. But the next day, you’d see them talking again.
In our family we were always open about any issues that we