In August this year, Scrolla.Africa’s night editor and culture writer, Sizwe Sibiya, passed away aged just 26. Below is a letter he wrote this time last year. It’s about Christmas time spent in Volksrust, the small town in Mpumalanga where Sizwe grew up.
I’ll be surprised if you’ve ever heard of Volksrust. It’s the small town on the N11 that leads travellers from KwaZulu-Natal in the south to Mpumalanga in the north.
A closed down, old train railway station stands rotting away on the line which separates the black community in the township of Vukuzakhe from the centre of town.
Visibly ageing white suburbs surround the centre of the business district. Next to the old train station is a small cluster of two-roomed government RDP houses where mainly coloured people live.
Old people in the township tell tales about how the town developed around the train station which gave work to many people from surrounding rural areas who ended up calling it home.
Despite its history of race discrimination, nowadays you will find the most relaxed and welcoming people in the country – even if they know the sound of gunshots and the sight of a dead body lying on the street.
The wrath of the unforgiving Covid-19 pandemic has also touched Volksrust, instilling fear and distrust among community members.
As a boy, spending my formative years in the town, Christmas Day was the best holiday.
Growing up we would see Christmas trees with wrapped boxes under them. I only found out later that they were gifts – gifts we never saw at our home or any other houses in the township.
Because I never went to church, I didn’t even know Christmas celebrated the birth of Jesus.
On the day we had to wake up very early because everybody in the family had a role to play in making the day the most special day of the year.
In my father’s house, it was the job of the boys to make sure the yard was impressively clean, while the women cleaned the house and prepared a huge feast.
When the chores were done, all the kids would disappear into their homes for a quick bath before the feast. Then we would all come out wearing our new “Christmas clothes”, sometimes a new outfit from head to toe, depending on what your family could afford. For most of us that was the only new outfit we would get for the year.
The most important part of the day for the children was eating all the food we could get. We would start by having lunch at my house with friends, then we would move next door, for Christmas cakes or Bakers “Choice Assorted” biscuits.
In the afternoon we would end up at some random lady’s house, possibly someone who didn’t have children, who would give us dessert to complete the feast. We would eat some and save enough to take away.
By nightfall, we would go home, with sweets in our pockets and smiles on our faces to carry us through the following year.
Pictured above: Volksrust
Image source: Supplied
