Nobantu Shabangu

It’s Friday and I did not know. I only realised through my Twitter feed that it is actually Friday. I’ve spent the day over thinking my life as I always do. Right now I can hear house music playing from the many clubs surrounding my place. I can hear girls singing along terribly and loudly to those songs. Taxis are speeding by and some men, who just got off work, whistle for them to stop. Johannesburg is beautiful at three times of the day: in the morning when the sun rises as its rays reflect on some of the glass and metallic buildings, in the day when little children are playing at the park and their innocent screams of joy can be heard amongst the horns of taxis and at night, like right now, abandoned office buildings with their lights still on, the few cars passing by, the one homeless man singing to himself, the stillness of the ghostly park and above all this a moon that shines it’s white light as it would over another setting; a desert perhaps or mountain range, except this is Joburg but it is beautiful nonetheless.
I am sipping a cup of lukewarm rooibos of tea. Today marks the twentieth day of me without an alcoholic drink. I am neither proud of myself nor dying for a drink. I miss wine a lot but I need to be sober for all the shit that is happening in my life. I need to be sober so that when I drink it will be a celebration for overcoming all these obstacles that pop out of nowhere. It hasn’t all been bad I was in England for two weeks in July and in September for the first time a piece of my writing was performed on stage in front of some hundred people. A few of those hundred people came up to me and told me they liked my work- it was motivating. I can only hope that the whole piece will be up on stage one day.
A hobo who is singing out loudly right now made me lose my train of thought. Anyway I got on a taxi today to go see my grandmother in hospital. It was the worst decision I made. I didn’t want to use my car because it was rush hour traffic and also I’m not always in the mood for driving. So I walk up to the taxi rankj, ask around and then I got lost but eventually I found the taxi and there were only two females in it. I knew then that I wouldn’t make it to the hospital within visiting hours and it was too late to walk back to my place and get my car. So I decide to sit next to this girl who looked like she might be a dyke. I say look like because in the townships a lot of straight girls dress like Tomboys and that can be confusing, especially if they have a short hair cut or s-curl. An s-curl is a popular hairstyle in Soweto and other black urban areas, the hairstyle is commonly seen on males but females (because they like things) do it too. The hairstyle entails cutting your hair short and then applying relaxer (hair straightening cream) to it and then combing it until the hair is wavy. The relaxer is then washed out and gel is applied to the hair to fix it in a state of waviness. The waviness resembles a continuous stream of the letter s, hence the name s-curl. I would have talked to this girl who had the s-curl but there two factors that made me decide not to. Firstly I was angry at myself for being stupid regarding the transport decision I had made and secondly she was in school uniform. I would never date a girl in high school, maybe we could be distant friends but nothing closer because I believe high school girls are at a fragile stage of their lives and having gone through the stage myself I know how gullible and easy it can be to control their psyche. I never want to be that person who preys on the young. So I just sat there next to here in silence stealing glances at her until we both got off at the hospital which was an awkward moment because it felt like I was following her. I hastily crossed the street and when I looked back she was gone.
I felt bad because I wanted to see my grandmother but I knew the nurses would not let me in. So I crossed the road again and signalled for a taxi back to my place. What a waste of money and time. I have to manage my time better. It is really a big problem of mine. My grandmother is a reminder of where times goes- only forward and our health goes backward. So I need to savour my youth, do the things that must be done while trying to enjoying life all at the same time. I need more self-discipline and more self-control especially since I’m trying to attain a much leaner physique, I’m trying to write more, I’m trying to read more, I’m trying to make a home for myself, I’m trying to be the best sister and granddaughter and I’m trying to get a degree all at the same time. It is daunting but it is life and I know there are people in much worse predicaments and so I should be thankful.
Tomorrow is a Saturday and I start with the morning shift and then I have to go see my grandmother; in all of this I’ll try to be happy.