Zephany. Joanne Jowell
glad that the day is a sun-kissed Cape special, warm and lazy enough to loosen the tightest of lips.
Michael looks different to the last time I saw him when he was chaperoning Miché’s daughter around the shopping mall. Granted, our encounter was no more than a few moments long, but it still takes me a second to recognise him and, this time, I’m really looking.
Michael has a warm, open face with a generous smile and his gentle, soft-spoken manner makes him pleasant company. But I’m unsettled by another sense that I detect in the room. At times it feels almost like deference, as if he is privy to a subtle power imbalance of which I’m unaware. At other times, it’s plain guardedness, as if we are benign competitors. I worry that I’m over-compensating with a cheerful buddy-buddyness to get him on side. I don’t want him to read me as false, or ingratiating. I just want him to feel comfortable enough to talk openly. But I realise, too late, that I’m making the same mistake as the mother who so badly wants her recalcitrant teenage son to confide in her – feigning commonality. Fact is, Michael and I have very little in the way of shared experience, at least at face value. And, while he may always have been the quiet type, Michael’s experience of the Zephany Nurse story – of discovering that his beloved daughter may well be beloved, but is not his daughter – has placed a chasm of difference between him and virtually any other. As much as Miché was deceived for seventeen years, so too was Michael.
To get Michael to warm to me, to open up as much as he may to anyone, I must reach for that single, undeniable experience we share, regardless of background and circumstance: the challenging joy of parenting.
MICHAEL:
I was born in Retreat, Cape Town and grew up in Steenberg. So my whole life has been spent around these parts. I have a big family – I have eight siblings, and I’m the youngest. I had a happy childhood, and everything was there for me, I didn’t struggle. There are 24 years between myself and my oldest brother, so when I was growing up, most of the siblings were out of the house already.
I went to Steenberg High School but I didn’t finish Matric. I had to help work. I went in as an apprentice electrician, and I’m still in the trade.
In my free time, I liked to come to the beach and swim – I still do. And sport, I like sport. I played soccer a lot back then, but now I think I’ll leave it for the younger ones.
My father was very religious and as a family we belonged to the Full Gospel Church in Wittebome. We all grew up in there. I’m not there now but my older brothers still are.
For a time, I wasn’t much part of the church, but I saw how things didn’t go well in my life. Then I made a change. I joined with JCI – Jesus Celebration International – and I can see that the church has really strengthened me in many areas. It became very important to me. Before, I wasn’t bold or brave enough to do things. But now it’s different. And this case with Miché … That was a difficult situation and I could have given up but, thanks to the church, I’ll stick through whatever comes.
That’s how I raised my family – it’s how I’m still trying to raise my family – to be a good father to them, a spiritual father, teach them the proper ways.
I met Lavona in my late twenties. She is four years older than me. And we were just friends for at least four years before we got together. In my early twenties, I had a girlfriend and I had a daughter with her. We tried to make it work for a long time. My father actually wanted me to get married because we are Christian, and he told me that if you mess up you must fix it. So I was going to marry her but it just didn’t work. I still don’t know what went wrong. She did say that I played too much soccer and came home late in the evenings. Now I sit back and think it could have been; I was more into the sport and not enough time at home with her.
I met Lavona some time after breaking up with that girlfriend. I went with a mutual friend, Phillip, to Lavona’s mother’s place and I met her, her sisters and brothers. I liked them from that first time and I knew I’d come visit again. We’d play soccer and go back to Lavona’s house afterwards, chatting and listening to music. They were good friends to have: always happy, cheery, talkative. Lavona especially. I would sit there and she would do all the talking while I did all the listening. I’m a good listener.
After some time, I would go alone to Lavona’s house. Maybe that’s the time when I was getting feelings for her. One day just suddenly we kissed and I thought, Uh oh, what happened now? She had always tried to fix me up with girls. If we went out all together, she’d say, ‘Hey, there’s a nice girl for you,’ and I’d go and chat to that girl. Everyone was surprised when the two of us came together because she was always trying to get me a date.
From that kiss, then the two of us were together.
I used to look after my daughter on weekends, and she’d stay with me at Lavona’s too. It was nice, because there was a good relationship between my child’s mother and Lavona. Even Miché grew up knowing my first daughter. I remember they used to fight in the car while driving. They both wanted to sit in front and Miché would cry. My first daughter would always say, ‘I’m the eldest, I must sit in front,’ but Miché didn’t want to give her a chance. I’d make them both sit in the back then! But they were nice, happy, and together quite a lot.
Suddenly something just went wrong – I still don’t know what. Maybe it was something between the two women, that they had an argument that I didn’t know about, but suddenly I couldn’t see my first daughter anymore. She was about ten or twelve years old, and she stopped coming on weekends. I didn’t have any disagreements with her mother, but she cut off the contact. I haven’t had direct contact with her now for five years …
When Lavona fell pregnant, we weren’t yet married or even living together. I was living with my brother and she was living at home in Sea Winds, not far from each other. She was a seamstress – if she wasn’t working on contract for a company, then she’d do her own work. She was always making clothes, especially tracksuits.
I was surprised when Lavona told me she was pregnant because she always said she had difficulty getting pregnant. I knew she had had previous miscarriages – not with me, but she told me about them.
We had already talked about getting married. Like any couple who’s always together, we talked about buying a home together. Lavona used to tell me that it’s not wise to be unmarried and buy a house together because if something goes wrong then there’s going to be chaos. I thought we should get married first too. But in the meantime, she fell pregnant.
We were all excited for her. And worried. Even though she was healthy and fit, everyone kept saying she must take it easy and handle herself with care because we knew she struggled to carry a baby to full term.
Lavona is one of those women who really looked pregnant. You know how some women’s faces get swollen, their noses swell, their bellies grow quickly. That happened with Lavona too, from early on. She was so obviously pregnant. That’s why it’s hard for me to believe anything different …
Like I said, we weren’t living together so I just used to visit her. I’d go around on Monday nights, and sometimes after soccer practice, and then on the weekend. I didn’t see her every day, but we’d chat over the phone, or when we hadn’t seen each other for a little while she’d say, ‘Kom, lat ek jou sien nou ’n bietjie, ek het nou lank nie vir jou gesien nie’ and I’d come onto the one side of the road and she’d come to the other and we’d wave. That’s how close we were to each other.
One day, it was a Thursday, I came from work to Lavona’s house and found a lot of people sitting outside, waiting around. ‘Oooh,’ they told me, ‘there’s a surprise for you inside.’ People were already congratulating me, ‘Geluk! Geluk!’ and ushering me in. So I came into the house and the baby was inside there. I knew that the baby would be coming some time soon, but I didn’t know that day, and it was so exciting to get home and find this little baby girl.
I asked Lavona, ‘Hoe was dit?’ and she said, ‘Nee, dis orrait, it wasn’t so bad.’ I went to go fetch my mother and I can still see that picture of her holding the baby. My father had passed away already by then.
Lavona