Linah Makokolo

She stood under five feet, not tall but avarage for her tribe. Just a few years older than my parents, she was golden brown in colour and had a traditional African built. I immediately liked her as she was about the same height as me. We used her as a measuring stick but it was soon clear that my brother John grew much faster and outgrew both Linah and myself. She became my confident and "mother".

My mother had been the main breadwinner for our family and during that time several nannies passed through our house. For eight of those years Linah saw me off to school, made sure my uniform was clean and my shoes polished. She welcomed us home after school with a waiting lunch, chatted to us while having our tea. She looked afer me when I was ill, gave me advice and comforted me. Motherhood certainly is not black and white, but a multitude of colours.

My parents made it clear that she was to receive the same respect as we gave to our parents. By leaving her in charge we were to listen and be polite to her. She only spoke English and soon became part of our family.

Her tribe was Sesotho and she lived in Hammanskraal, a community 45 minutes by car from Pretoria. Her family owned a small piece of land enough to hold a shack, corn field, small garden and a few chickens. As she was the primary breadwinner her husband, William, took care of their propery and their offsprings. She would return to Hammanskraal twice a year for summer vacations and Christmas. Along with some gifts and clothing she would replenish the pantry with supplies.  My mother worked for a wholesaler and she was able to benifit from that. 

It was with a heavy heart that we said our goodbyes  and after twelve years we return to the Netherlands.

I returned to Pretoria ten years later and John and I drove to Hammanskraal to find her. She invited us inside her shack and made tea. An old ritual we had and hauled out the old cups she had inherited. Sitting on the now sagging coach, that was so familiar and once more, I truly felt at home.

During a family reunion in Pretoria we decided to visit Hammmanskraal. My mother came along and new sister-in-law Yolanda. I also wanted her to meet my husband Peter.

We met again briefly a few years later, gave her a substantial amount of cash, thanked her and said our goodbyes. We never saw each other again. 

She did ask me to send her love and Gods Blessings to my mother. "The misses and I were like this" and she crossed her index and middle finger. I knew that.

Time passed and John found Linah in mourning with the loss of her husband. She was still living in the same shack with some of the grandchildren.

Thank you Linah