TEN YEARS - DISA

&WNMmt WDII. 1 M®, S annoQ 4 21D©§ ID
My Other Cousin, Sitha
For Ntsikie
Mbulelo Mzamane
Just how I happened to fall for the paraffin one, week in and
week out, still puzzles me. I never approved of Sitha's weekly
disappearance. I loathed Slakes, the fellow who always
hijacked her. I simply couldn't understand why she preferred him
to her other boyfriend, Martin, who didn't land her in the same
trouble. But come Friday and I became an accessory, as it were,
after the fact.
When my father was transferred to Johannesburg, my mother
remained with relatives in Brakpan, in order to be near the Far
East Rand Non-European Hospital where she worked. She only
came home when she was day-off. My father worked in the vast
parish of Moroka, which has since been divided into four parishes.
The main church in Senaoana, where he also had his office, was a
good distance from home. When he was not in his office, he was
doing parish visits, on a bicycle. Most of the time, therefore, we
were left to our own devices. Being the eldest among us, my
cousin Sitha then became the mistress of the house. We enjoyed
so much freedom that I seldom went to school. On a few
occasions when I did, it was because I had a rock group which
practised daily, after lessons.
On Fridays, when Sitha returned from school, she made fire and
placed the pots on the stove. Then she instructed my sisters, who
remained playing outside, to watch over the pots — which meant
we often ate charcoal-flavoured food for supper. She vanished into
the bathroom to wash, as though she hadn't washed in the
morning before going to school, and emerged with shiny legs and
a face masked in Butone. Because I have such a passion for
music, I duly resented being dragged from under my pile of
records to accompany her to the shops.
'Sabeio, get the paraffin container ready, we're going to the
shops,' she'd say.
We bought our groceries from Khanyile's General Dealers. Tat'
uKhanyile, the proprietor, was our church warden. We were more
than just important customers, we behaved like virtual
shareholders. We helped Bhut' Phum, who ran the shop, supervise