Siwagawula siwarhuqa

  • 0

Stemme | Voices | Amazwi is LitNet’s series of 15 short, powerful monologues written by established and upcoming playwrights, and presented in collaboration with Suidoosterfees, NATi and ATKV.

In Xolisa Ngubelanga’s Siwagawula siwarhuqa, a woman recounts how, as a school girl, she fell in love with a handsome gardener, Sakhumzi, and how the experience left her hands covered with thorns. Zikhona Jacobs performs the monologue, directed by Mfundo Zono. Watch the performance with English subtitles here:

In this video, Zikhona Jacobs and director Mfundo Zono discuss their work on Xolisa Ngubelanga’s Siwagawula siwarhuqa.

The original monologue in isiXhosa:

Siwagawula siwarhuqa

Izinto azisoloko zityhilekile kodwa mna ndiyafana nqwa nencwadi evuliweyo. Ubomi bam bekufanele bubhaliwe kuloo maphepha, ndandiselula kanye ngomzimba nangomoya. Ndiyintombi emsulwa enoncumo olukhazimlayo namehlo aqaqambileyo. Oko kwakungaphambi kokuba iintlungu zibe ngumhlobo osondeleyo. Izinto ezimbi zalandela emva kokuba amahla-ndinyuka obomi ashiya imivumbo emininzi emphefumlweni wam kunye nencasa ekrakra elwimini lam – incasa ekrakra endayingcamla kwibhekhile yobufazi. Wazi ntoni, hmm?

Uyabona mntwanam ndiqonda ukuba, eyonanto siyizelelweyo singabafazi kukucandwa sisithukuthezi, amadoda asilahla njalo sisaqala ukuthi siyancamathela luthando. Wakhe wayivaphi? Kodwa amadoda awafani, andithi? Awafani, abanye oontanga bam baye banethamsanqa, kakhulu, ndiyabona kubekho amandla amakhulu emithandazweni yabo kuba basekunye nabayeni babo. Mna ke azange ndakholelwa kwimimoya de kwafika mhla ndathandana nendoda yathi – yavela yanyamalala ndashiyeka ndodwa. Ndandiselusana, ndiyintombi ehamba isikolo.

Esikolweni besele siqalile sifundiswa ke lento kuthiwa yi-Geography, ndiyilonto ndibhala amagama emilambo yonke namazwekazi kwathi gqi emnyango isiqu eside, esibhityileyo esinamehlo adumbileyo. Abazali bam ke babendilumkisa ngokwaneleyo ngamakhwenkwe ukuba ndoyike kwa ukuwajonga. Ndavela ndaqinisa intamo yam ndaqhubeka nokujonga ebhodini. Ngezo ntsuku amakhwenkwe ayegcina ubuhlobo namakhwenkwe namantombazana ayegcina ubuhlobo namantombazana kodwa ndandingoyena ukrelekrele eklasini. Wandenza umfundisi-ntsapho ngondibuza ukuba ndingamnceda na lo mfana ebona ukuba ufike emva kwexesha esikolweni.

Sakhumzi Mkoko ligama lakhe elo kwaye wayehlala kanye emva kwam, qho xa ndiphakama ukuze ndiphendule ndandiweva amehlo akhe esuka emagxeni ehlela esinqeni. Ndandondlekile kaloku mna mntasekhaya iimpundu zam zazijama. Uthi wozijonga zikujonge zenjenje. Hayi ke sazana noSakhumzi inkwenkwe yasemakhaya Ebumnyameni kwezafama zama-orenji, enembeko kakhulu ukodlula loo makhwenkwe ecawe umama wayefuna ndidibane nawo.

Andizange ndibubone ubumdaka obunxulunyaniswa neefama kuye, wayezikama iinwele zakhe, wayeziphucula izihlangu zakhe eyihlohla nehempe yakhe.

Xa ilixesha lokuphuma kwesikolo wayeleqa kumgcini-sihlalo aye amncedise egadini. Nangona wayekude ngeekhilomitha ema-orenjini wayeseyinkwenkwe yasefama entliziyweni yakhe kwaye wayewuthanda umhlaba. Umnakekeli wayemgcinele i-ovaroli yakhe besebenza kunye umhlaba belima. Isikolo sethu sasingenagadi ingako ekuqaleni kodwa kunga wawuyibonile into abayenzayo, ndisayibona nangoku apha entloko, umfanekiso wayo.

Batyala iirozi nemifuno, mna ke ndandizithandela kweza rozi, uSakhi wayeqhele ukundiphathela irozi egadini qho xa sidibanela ukufunda kwaye sasifunda ke ezikhuthalele iincwadi kakhulu. Nam ke ndichithe ixesha lam ndimfundisa konke endikwaziyo. Akazange azibandakanye nezopolitiko zelo xesha ubomi bakhe bonke babusesitiyeni kwaye wayekholelwa ukuba irozi etyheli inokukhula ecaleni kwepinki, ngoko umntwana omnyama unokukhula ecaleni komntwana omhlophe. Yaqala ke imilo phakathi kukaSakhi notat’ uNxasana umgcini wegadi kuba uSakhi wayezisika zonke iirozi eziphathela mna ke phofu ashiye amahlahla egadini. Igadi yayisele ingundaba-mlonyeni kwaye wonke umntu enento afuna ukuyithetha ngayo. Kwakungekudala yatsala umdla wosapho lakwaCoetze olalunevenkile ethengisa iziqhamo nemifuno. Babutha zonke iziqhamo zegadi bayozithengisa ezivenkileni zabo. USakhi wayephuma kusapho oluhluphekayo kwaye wayeyidinga la cent, yathi imali iqala ukungena kwangathi ubomi bakhe bunentsingiselo entsha. Eli yayilithuba elilungileyo kuye wade wenza ubuhlobo nonyana kaCoetze uJan. Bekunye beqhuba iilori zikaMnumzana Coetze bengena bephuma kwiidolophu ezininzi.

Azange ndiphinde ndimbone. Zahamba iintsuku ndihleli ndilindele ukubuya kwakhe. Wakwenza ukulinda kwaba yinxalenye yobomi bam, iintsuku zaba ziiveki, iiveki zaba ziinyanga kwade kwakhawuleza kwaphela nethemba. Ndazazi ndindedwa kanti ixesha lonke kukho umntu apha (esiswini), ndabeleka ndedwa umntwana oyinkwenkwe.

Ndandimthanda umntwanam kwaye bendimhloniphile noSakhi naxa engekho kodwa umthwalo wabamninzi kakhulu. Kancinci kancinci imisonto eyayibambe ubomi bam yaqala ukuqhawuka. Imisonto yaqhawuka ubomi bam baqhekeka esiphakathini into eyayisele ngoSakhumzi yayizinkhumbulo zesitiya segadi kungasekho ziirozi ingamatyholo anameva odwa. Izandla zam zazigqunywe ngameva ndingasakwazi nokubamba inaliti le yokuthunga. Intliziyo yam yayizele ngameva iinyawo zam zazihambe iimigama yekhilomitha phezu kwalo meva. Kodwa ndanawo amandla wokupakisha umthwalo wam: intlungu emva kweentlungu ndaziphakamisa ngezingalo zam. Ukuba unokujongisisa, uyakubona ndisawathwele nangoku loo matyholo omnga. Bubomi.

 

An English translation of the monologue:

Siwagawula siwarhuqa (Two birds)

Things are not always clear, but I am just like an open book. My life was supposed to be written on those pages; I was young physically and spiritually. A pure girl with a bright smile and bright, beautiful eyes. That was before pain became my close friend. A series of bad things followed the ups and downs of life and left a deep impression on my soul and a bitter taste on my tongue – a bitter taste that I tasted because I was a woman. What do you know, hmm?

You see, my child, I understand that the only thing we are born with as women is to be torn apart by loneliness; men abandon us as we begin to say that we cling because of love. Where did you hear that? But men are different, aren’t they? They are different; some of my peers have been very lucky – very much. I can see there has been great power in their prayers, because they are still with their husbands. I did not believe in spirits until the day I fell in love with a man who just disappeared, and I was left alone. I was a teenager, a schoolgirl.

At school, we were taught geography. I was busy writing down the names of all the rivers and continents, and a tall, thin figure with swollen eyes appeared at the door. My parents warned me so much about boys that I was too scared to look at them. I just stiffened my neck and kept looking at the board. In those days, boys were friends with boys and girls were friends with girls, but I was the smartest in the class. I regret the day my teacher asked me if I could help this young man because he saw that he had arrived late for school.

Sakhumzi Mkoko was his name, and he sat right behind me; every time I got up to answer, I could feel his eyes from my shoulders down to my waist. I was well built, and my buttocks attracted attention. When you stared at them, they would stare back at you. Well, I got to know Sakhumzi, a country boy from the dark orange farms; he was more polite than the boys in the church my mother wanted me to meet.

I never saw the dirt associated with the farms on him; he combed his hair, polished his shoes and tucked in his shirt.

When it was time to leave school, he would run to the chairperson and help him in the garden. Although he was miles away from the orange farm, he was still a farm boy in his heart, and he loved the land. The caretaker he was working the land with, kept his overalls. Our school didn’t have much of a garden at first, but if you could see what they did – I can still see it in my head, a picture of it.

They planted roses and vegetables, and I loved those roses. Sakhi used to bring me roses from the garden every time we met to study, and we studied, and he was very enthusiastic about books. So, I spent my time teaching him everything I knew. He did not get involved in the politics of the time; his whole life was in the garden, and he believed that as a yellow rose could grow next to a pink one, so a black baby could grow next to a white baby. Then a fight broke out between Sakhi and Nxasana, the gardener, because Sakhi was cutting all the roses for me and leaving the shrubs in the garden. The garden was already the talk of the town, and everyone had something to say about it. It soon attracted the attention of the Coetze family, who owned a fruit and vegetable shop. They took all the fruit from the garden and sold it at their shops. Sakhi came from a poor family and needed that cent, and when the money was starting to come in, it was as if his life had new meaning. This was a good opportunity for him until he formed a friendship with the Coetzes’ son, Jan. Together, they drove Mr Coetze’s trucks in and out of several towns.

I never saw him again. Days passed as I waited for his return. He made waiting a part of my life; days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, until I lost all hope. I knew I was alone, and all the time there was someone here (in the womb), and I gave birth to a baby boy alone.

I loved my baby and respected Sakhi even when he was not around, but the burden was too much. Little by little, the threads that held my life together began to unravel. The threads broke, and my life split in half. The only thing left about Sakhumzi was the memories of the garden, a garden with no more roses, but thorn bushes alone. My hands were covered with thorns, and I could not even hold the sewing needle. My heart was full of thorns, and my feet had walked a kilometre over the thorns. But I had the strength to pack my load: pain after pain, I lifted myself with my arms. If you look closely, you will see that I am still carrying those acacia bushes. That’s life.

 

Stemme | Voices | Amazwi is supported by the National Arts Council.

 

Stemme | Voices | Amazwi is a New Writing project of LitNet and is supported by the LW Hiemstra Trust.

All the monologues are available here:

Stemme | Voices | Amazwi

  • 0

Reageer

Jou e-posadres sal nie gepubliseer word nie. Kommentaar is onderhewig aan moderering.


 

Top