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Life has proven to be a journey of mystery and self-discovery as Brenda Nomusa Molefe tries to balance life and relationships. She has been “blessed” with many lessons that came in the form of relationships. Journey along with her as she shares some of her relationship encounters that came with many strings (Fraud, Trauma, Cheating, Lies, Betrayal) the list is endless. Each Chapter unpacks the different experiences she went through from friendships, relationships, and life in general. In all of the strings, she managed to finally find that scissor to cut and reshape her future.
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Seitenzahl: 228
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Copyright © 2024 Brenda Nomusa Molefe
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7961-2492-0
DEDICATION
I would like to dedicate this book firstly to my biggest fan, my friend, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on, my inspiration, my shero, and my reason for pushing harder and harder every day. You may be gone Ma, but you blessed me with so much love and wisdom. Mrs. Jostina Alice Molefe my angel on earth and now in heaven, I love you. Not forgetting my dad too, Ntate Molefe, he would be my biggest PR manager right now, telling everyone about me and the book. I miss you both.
I would also like to thank my beautiful kids for allowing me to grow with them as I navigate life not knowing what parenting is, but they make this parenting journey so much easier, fun, and beautiful. Angela, Tironontshi, and Zyon mommy loves you long time #TheBrendMos.
To my siblings, you will never understand what a privilege it is to be a last born especially with four warriors always looking out for you and for that, I am forever grateful to you always. Phumzile, Dodo, Mbali and Khanyi much love.
To all my friends that have been in my life, you all know yourselves, I really do appreciate you and wish nothing but the best for you and your families. To you who bought the book knowing me or not knowing me, thank you so much, may all the love and blessings locate you wherever you are. Forgive the spelling and grammar mistakes life happened.
Lastly, all Glory and honour is to God almighty, I am who I am because you loved me even before anyone set their eyes on me. Thank you for patiently waiting for me in the mighty name of Jesus Christ Amen.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1. I Am Love
Chapter 2. The first betrayal
Chapter 3. The Condition
Chapter 4. The betrayal that caught me by a funnysurprise
Chapter 5. The start of self-doubt
Partner Betrayal Trauma
Chapter 6. Red Flags
Chapter 7. The fraud I mean the fake love continued
Reflection
Chapter 8. I thought I was healed
Chapter 9. Finding my way out of - The Depths of Despair
Chapter 10. An unfailing love
Bonus Chapter. The Foreign love
About The Author
Introduction
Picture this: 5-year-old me, sitting outside on my favorite spot on my mom's front stoep (porch), surrounded by the warmth and love only a childhood home can provide. I was naively and eagerly excited about trying out something that I saw from a movie we watched the previous night. With a handful of wildflowers, I had gathered from the garden, I played out my own tender dream. I didn’t know the name of the flowers, but they were definitely not roses as in the movie. I plucked each petal, one by one, whispering, “He loves me, He loves me not”. As the kid I was, my young heart swelled with joy whenever the answer was “He loves me”.
I yearned for that love and wanted more "love me’s" so I kept trying whenever I saw the next petal would get me the “he loves me not”. I wouldn't continue or would pull out both petals so that I could get the answer I wanted, "He loves me!". There was no particular boy in mind or a deep understanding of what I was doing, but I was determined that as I grow older, I will definitely pick the right " flower" (man) who would truly LOVE ME. Little did I know, I was in for a crazy surprise of - Relationships with Strings Attached.
Chapter 1
I AM LOVE
The day I realised that life was not fair for everyone.
Let me introduce myself: My name is Brenda Nomusa Molefe, a mix of Sotho and Zulu cultures also known as, Zutho (although that is not an official ethnic group, I think it should be!). My father was Sotho, and my mother was Zulu, but because we grew up in KwaZulu Natal we predominately spoke isiZulu.
I was born and raised in a small town called Ladysmith, to a big family that was filled with lots of love and care. My parents had a beautiful family home in a township called eZakheni kwa C (Section). Our home was a cozy haven, filled with the aroma of my mother's delicious cooking and the sound of laughter and music. We had our ups and downs, but never have I felt unloved. This led me to believe the world was full of love and kindness, that if you give love, you will get love in return. But that was about to change in the most drastic but gradual manner.
I recall a university volunteer group training session, where we had to introduce ourselves and share whether our childhood was filled with love or not. I was eager to share my story, to tell everyone about my childhood and how loved I was.
So, the moment came, and I was called to finally speak. There I was, standing and staring into their faces with a big smile on my face. I proudly shared my story of being raised by two public servant parents who, despite having limited means, showered us with boundless love. I beamed with joy as I recalled the short drives with my father in his minibus he used for extra income. Our laughter and conversation filling the air. How he would treat me to my favourite take-away, fried russian and chips smothered in vinegar and the memory was so vivid, I could almost smell the vinegar! With a deep breath and a broad smile, I remembered simple moments like sitting outside as he cut my nails, his jokes making me giggle. My mother, on the other hand, was a soft-spoken angel, who was ready to serve the community, day or night, even beyond her time of duty. Her kindness was boundless and our walks in town would often double in length as she greeted people, or they stopped to thank her for her selflessness. Some would even give her money as a token of gratitude, which she'd humbly accept, often forgetting what she had done to deserve it. I didn't mind, knowing I would get extra treats from the money she received.
I smiled as I recalled how my mother would introduce me to her visitors. She would call me and my siblings to introduce us to the visitors, something she did religiously with my father. The best part was how she would introduce me, her lastborn pride and joy. She would jokingly say that she would charge double for my Lobola (bride price) just because of how special I was to her. She would even say, "My other daughters can get married without lobola, but for Twana kaMa, I want double!".
As I ended my story with a statement, that I am "love" because I was loved by my parents and siblings. Oh, now I remember we had to give ourselves a name based on our childhood. At the end of my story, I was all smiles but then I noticed a girl was crying her eyes out. I was taken aback, wondering why she was crying. It wasn't a happy cry either; it was a heart-wrenching one. This girl was Zama. She was the life of the group, always making everyone happy. I always enjoyed her company but why was she crying because of my story? Almost everyone spoke but she never cried or reacted, what happened now?
Two more people spoke after me, she was still crying but not as bad now. Her turn to talk came. What came out of her mouth changed my life.
Zama stood up, a silly grin spreading across her face. I was confused, wasn't she crying moments ago? She took a deep breath and began to speak, her voice steady. “Unlike most of you, I did not have such a rosy childhood. Mine was a childhood no child should go through. My mother had me at 15 and by the time she was 23, we were already four. I had to grow up very fast as at 6 years, I was looking after my two brothers and sister while she left us locked in a room she rented. It wasn't until I was older that I discovered the horrifying truth that my father was actually my uncle. He had raped my mother repeatedly, starting from when she was just 10 years old, until she became pregnant with me. She then decided to leave home as no one believed that she was raped by my uncle”. The room fell silent, as if the weight of Zama's words had sucked the air out of it. I felt a lump form in my throat, my heartache for the little girl she once was. The silence became so thick as she continued her story, “mom faced more hardships with three men who promised her the world but later left when she was pregnant. The last one, who stayed the longest, also decided to exploit her further, as he decided that I needed to be the woman of the house when he slept with me when I was just 12 years old. This abuse continued until I finished high school, and I obtained a scholarship to study far away from home. Although I enjoy my life here, I worry about my little sister. I'm not sure if she is strong enough to handle what's coming to her. I pray daily that this man spares her until I can rescue her once I start working. So, yes! That's a glimpse of my childhood. I think I would call myself a survivor cause my childhood was nothing but a battlefield that only the strong could survive.”
We sat in stunned silence, our eyes wide in disbelief and our jaws dropped in shock. This was the saddest story I had ever heard. I couldn't believe that life could be so cruel. Yet, there stood Zama, strong and tear - free as she took us through her childhood. The tables had turned; we were the ones overcome with emotions, crying our eyes out. The session came to an end and the counsellor told us many comforting words. She reminded us that as we navigate counselling students, although it was career counselling, we will occasionally find ourselves doing life coaching and in that moment, we must draw strength from our childhood names. Later, as I sat in my room, thoughts of Zama flooded my mind, leaving me feeling defeated. I had wanted to reach out to her and give her all the love I can immediately after the class, but she reassured me she was stronger than the story and I should not worry about her. While I had faced challenges and tragic experiences in my own life, it was nothing compared to hers. But was it really necessary for me to compare? Had my comfortable, love-filled life truly prepared me for the harsh realities of life? I started feeling vulnerable and thinking maybe I'm not better equipped for life suddenly as Zama looked like a conqueror. I've always been a happy soul and believed in the best in people. Here and there, I would have people misjudge me, because they did not know me but those that did, knew that I would move mountains for them so much that they would abuse my kindness.
Life went on, we had the best career counselling year and never really had serious issues. In fact, I even forgot about that training session. But little did I know that the lessons from that day were to come out in my near future. Let's journey along together as I unpack my heart experiences chapter by chapter.
Chapter 2
The first betrayal
There were many but this cut deep because it came from a friend and practically sister because we had been staying together for almost 4 or just over 3 years.
Before I get to the betrayal let me first take you through how we met and all we had been through together.
It’s January 2001 a very hot hot day, I was not used to this hot Pretoria weather, but I guess I was going to have to get used to it because this is where I will be staying for the next 3 to 5 years. My mom and cousin had just finished unpacking my last luggage from mom’s car. They were about to leave me in this foreign city. Part of me wanted to cry but another part of me was looking forward to this new chapter of my life.
My mother on the other hand was so nervous but had to be strong and trust me to make the right choices for my future. The residence (res) she left me in was not ideal for her. We had applied for a female res closer to school only to find that they did not even look at my application, so my only option was to move into this mixed res far from campus and it did not look well maintained. The res was looking unkept because itwas recently acquired by the Technikon (University of Technology in today’s terms). There were ladies in another house close to mine, mom went there and asked them to look after me because they seemed older and looked like decent girls. Mom’s judgement was never wrong because indeed those ladies were very friendly and made the transition to independent tertiary life such a breeze. Before they drove off mom told me, “tomorrow morning go back to res admin and follow up on your application to stay at the lady’s res inside campus”, she was not really happy leaving me there. I waved goodbye and assured her that I will go there and to not worry I will be ok. After they left I just went straight to sleep as I was tired from the long drive (Ladysmith to Pretoria) as well as cleaning my place up.
I was woken up by a knock, someone else was moving in. This girl was shouting and causing a scene as she was telling her dad that he can’t leave her at res, her voice was so loud with a spoiled brat tone, she kept on saying “I cannot stay here please rather get me a flat in town or something I cannot stay here”. The dad tried to change her mind by saying “but baby this is a decent place look at her she looks decent enough wearing her Political Party T-shirt, she is going to be a good roommate you will love it here”. I just stood there confused. She refused and they left. I just heard her father telling her as they left that tomorrow he is bringing all her things he does not want any stories. I was like ok what was that and I went back to sleep. I had a long day, the timetable showed classes in rooms that were so far apart from each other I was going to need all the strength I could get. I slept alone that night, locked myself in the room because I was so scared. The next day I prepared to go to class. Just as I was about to leave one of the ladies that my mom spoke to came to fetch me to show me where to catch the bus to main campus. She was so sweet even took me to my first class. I told myself, “Ok this was going to be a breeze”. The first class finished and as we were going to the next class getting lost inthe building, I met 2 girls who were also in my class. We decided to get lost together, we laughed and got ourselves lost the whole day until it was time to go back to res.
The one lady was from Soweto, so she was commuting every day, and the other one was moving to the same res as mine. I was excited to know that I will be having a friend in the same res who also stayed at the same res. She had to wait for her sister to come get her, so I went straight to my bus. As I was sitting in the bus, I remembered I did not go to res admin “ohh well I will go tomorrow”. I got to my place got comfortable and decided to make myself lunch it is at this time that I realised I had not eaten the whole day. “It was going to be tough if this is how life is going to be”, I thought to myself. Next thing I hear a knock at the door I’m thinking “it’s yesterday’s rich daddy’s girl”. I’m annoyed as I go open, “why don’t they just open they have their own keys just like me”. Lou and behold it’s the girl I was getting lost with, she was carrying two bags, and she could not open the door. We both screamed because we could not believe we were going to stay in the same house. Her sister couldn’t understand the excitement, but we could not contain it we were super happy. I helped them move all her things I was now the one showing her around since I had been there first. Even told her that I met our other “roommate”, and she should brace herself as she is a character and a half. The fourth roommate was planned to come in February as she was in her 3rd year. This was a great surprise, “life will not be so difficult after all”, I thought. What a beautiful coincidence to be staying with someone whom I just met in class today. We chatted the whole time like we knew each other.
The ladies from next door also came to greet her, everything was nice and rosy. The week went by we were going together to class came back and explored res. I kept forgetting to go to res admin I don’t know if it was deliberate, or I just genuinely forgot. I would remember when my mom would call me and ask if I did go. Yes, I had a cell phone a very huge Erickson Alcatel hahahaha. My sister gave it to me since I was going far away. It ended up being our house phone because my other roommates did not have a phone, and we had to place it on one of the windows so that it can catch the network (hahahaha we are so grateful now for the cell phones with improved technology).
Well, it was just the two of us for a while because the other lady ended up not coming. One day in between classes the friend from Soweto (let’s call her Linda) started sharing her frustration with commuting to Pretoria every day and she was not winning with getting space at res. So, my roomy (let’s call her Xola) had a bright idea that she must come stay in our spare room since daddy’s girl has not come yet. I supported her, I was like yah come through she doesn’t want to stay there anyways. Next day our friend came with just few things remember she was not officially occupying the room in case the other girl comes, she had to travel light hahaha. Weeks went by and we stayed all three of us with no stress.
The next month our last roommate came (Lets call her Dee), she was so sweet and wise always gave us life and study advise. She was hardly at res because she always visited her boyfriend so the time she would be around it would be great to be with her even though it was short because the boyfriend would also come visit her. Their love story was very inspirational and refreshing. Anyways 2nd week of February it was time for Xola’s cousin to come to res as well, as she was doing a short program that started in February. The day she came we all went with Xola to visit her in her house which was in a different block from ours. When we got there her mom and sisters were still there helping her move in. She (let’s call her Londy) was a nice girl my first impression of her was that she is beautiful and well taken care of by her family as they were tending to her every need, they did not even see us as we came to assist her move in. Anyways now it was the 4 of us. Somehow Linda and Londy did not get along very well. For the first time our harmonious living was riddled with drama and fights. Most of the fights were centred around Xola it’s like both of them were fighting to be the one closest to Xola. Well guess our peaceful space was short-lived. At this time, I had given up on finding space at the ladies res. I was at home now here; I was happy and vibing with everyone.
We spent most of our time going to class, visiting friends around res. But most of the time we spent together, and we grew closer and closer. We did not have a fridge so we would buy meat and cook it same time for all of us to eat. Xola never really liked eating but she liked experimenting with cooking for us. One time I decided to buy lamb chops for all of us, after making it Londy was like she is not hungry I must not dish up for her, in fact, she was on a diet. I never really cared much about dieting and body image until I met these 2 (Xola and Londy). In fact, I guess at some point they messed with my hormones because I would eat and not get fat but since I started joining them in diets my weight just started fluctuating with the amount of food I eat ahahahaha.
Well back to chops. Linda, I and the other lady from next door enjoyed the chops while the lady from next door was telling us about ghost stories that are supposedly from the res we were staying in. We went to sleep happy saying we will have nice breakfast because there was still more meat left. When we woke up the next day there was no more meat in the pan. We knew Xola does not eat so we asked Londy if it was her, she said maybe it was Pieter the Ghost hahaha. It’s still a mystery even today who ate that meat, but speculations were alwaysaround Londy. Another incident happened where I bought eggs and Londy on the other hand was complaining that her eggs were rotten. I went to class and when I came back my room was stinking, all of a sudden now my brand-new eggs were rotten and Londy was frying up a storm there by the kitchen. These are just instances that would happen, and I would let it slide but Linda would be livid and confront Londy and a fight would ensue.
One day we were walking to buy street snacks (that is what we called the cheap chips that they would normally buy in bulk and then pack them in plastics for re-selling) from another tuckshop outside res. We passed Londy sitting with her friends and one of her friends called Linda a witch. Me being me and not confrontational I tried to tell Linda not to do anything about it, but she would not let it rest. She asked me to go with her to confront this friend, but the confrontation turned into a huge fist fight. Our peaceful place was completely gone now there was drama after drama until the year ended. At the end of the year Linda decided she will move out of her room and Londy moves in because clearly, they were oil and water. She said she would always be around to visit Xola as it was not going to work to continue this living arrangement. Luckily the swap was approved as Londy now qualified to move to our block and she had finished her short program to now start her diploma.
Well, everything was fine the drama subsided now it was just their fights as siblings/friends. I was happy to stay with them because it meant my hair was always on point and they were genuinely cool people to be around. They had more experience when it came to relationships then me, that was a welcome learning experience. I had a high school sweetheart who would occasionally come visit me because he was studying at the University of Johannesburg. So, I never really had a chance to date anyone at res I would live vicariously through my roomy’s experiences, and it was quite an interesting journey to watch. At some stage I was labelled uMzalwane (a zulu word for Christian believer) because I was not seen to be dating anyone, but I was fine just having fun and focusing on my studies. Maybe that’s where I went wrong because out of the 3 of us, I am the one who did not get married, but I lived the “good girl” life almost throughout res time because I met the father of my kids on my last year at res, but more on that in the following chapters.
Well, the reason I penned this whole history was for me to get to my first big betrayal. So, as I said we were together for quite some time I think stayed together for 3 and a half years. On our 3rd year we decided to move to a different block where we then met a new roommate as Dee was done with her studies. We met with Samy she was a sweet soft-spoken girl. Londy was excited to stay with her because she felt because she met her before us at some party, perhaps, she can have that bond with someone else the way Xola and I had a bond because we were doing the same course and stayed with each other longer. The time at this new block was ok not any major drama issues just the usual. On my side I was starting to feel maybe this high school sweetheart thing was not working out. I dated someone else briefly but that also ended after only 2 months. I stayed single and focused on my studies. High school sweetheart would still occasionally come but things were no longer the same. One day while coming back from res I met this very handsome guy he was new at res. I got to our house excited, I couldn’t wait to tell my roommates, and they were all there. I told them about the guy. Londy was like who is this guy you’re not the first one to say there is a new handsome guy at res. After that they made fun of me saying it was the first time that I mzalwane was so excited over a random guy.
