My Mind Speaks: Graves in my heart

Grief, like a flood comes every now and then to visit, to remind you that pieces of you are still missing. To remind you of the pieces you will never get back. This is a story about grief. No, this is a story about a broken heart or maybe it is a story about friendship, but I know for sure that it is a story about Mpho Ratshitanga.

 September 2021 marked the 6th anniversary since his passing. In all veracity, I haven’t thought of him the entire month, in fact I can't even remember whether I had any thoughts of him this past year or any time before that and somehow that bothers me. Today is the 27th of November 2021 and I cannot stop thinking of you. Before I get carried away with grief, maybe I should start this story from the beginning.

 Mpho Ratshitanga. I vaguely remember how I met you. I would be lying if I say when exactly we met but I know it was in high school. It could've been in grade 8 however, I would need Mulalo to jog my memory. I decided to write this piece because the most crucial parts of your personality, I am starting to forget and it bugs me. Anyway, Mpho loved Mulalo, they were in a  on and off relationship for what seemed to be a lifetime. Their love was complicated. You will excuse me as I try to sketch together the little pieces I still remember about our lives. All three of us. So ja back to high school. I actually do not remember having a conversation with Mpho. But I think I liked him for my friend. During that time, I mostly knew him through Mulalo. You know how high school love stories go…  Mpho eventually moved to a different school, a year or two into high school and I don't quite know  how the romance died. Fast forward many years later when Mark Zuckerberg started a very powerful connecting tool, Facebook.

As you know when Facebook started we used to invite everyone that appeared on the friend suggestions. All our old classmates, street playmates and primary school friends. You could be friends with literally everyone. I was in my 3rd year of university when I reconnected with Mpho. I’d probably need to discover how to restore my Facebook account just so I can go through some of my old messages with Mpho to figure out when and how we started talking. I do have to confess though, that Mpho was my replacement male best friend. See Rolivhuwa Maluma was my first male bestie. We had a fall out of some sort the previous year, over a girl. lol story for another day or maybe this story shall never be told because the girl is now his wife...I know right? Straight from a telenovela. So, I guess when I started talking to Mpho it was just what I needed, that one male friend who understood me. And understood me he did. See, during this time in my life I was dating his best buddy on and off and when I say on and off I mean more off than on.

So he would call me and we would talk about everything. Back then there used to be Vodacom night shift, well there is still night shit but honestly I’m just trying to show you how way back this goes. If you bought airtime during the day, you would get free minutes between 12am and 6am. Mpho and I could talk from 12am to 6am and it was normal. We would talk about everything from his drama with Mulalo to music, to my drama with his friend down to just nothing. Time would just fly. Mpho loved country music, he adored love music.

John Meyer was one of his absolute favourite artists. He would often share his playlists with me lol we got along in that aspect. He loved girly music of course, we got along with each other  quite well. He was such a lover yet so sensitive. His sensitivity was his toxic trait. I cannot count the number of times he would cut me off because I said something that offended him.

Typically, this story would end with a beautiful love story. Boy meets girl, they get married and have babies, right? Sorry to burst your little bubble, but this isn't that type of story. This story is more of a boy meets girl and they form a strong bond of friendship. I can honestly say that Mpho understood me and I understood him… even during times where he would cut me off; I always knew he would eventually get over it, text me or call and then we would be inseparable again.  Mpho lived in Cape Town with his brother. He was studying through UNISA although I can barely remember what course he was studying nonetheless, I know he eventually moved to PE to study full time. Like I said before, he was a very sensitive guy. He barely spoke about his family though I knew he lived with his big brother in Cape Town and their mother lived back home, in Venda. I still wonder to this day why he didn't speak about his family a lot. Mpho and I would often make plans to meet up at home during school holidays and 100 percent of the time those plans would always fail. I also don't know why. Well, partly because I don't particularly like bathing when I’m at home. So Mpho was my pen pal, my phone best friend. He hated being called my best friend as any male friend.  Funny how they automatically assume that male besties are reserved for gay friends. Weird right?  

Mpho was one of those people with a contagious laugh. He was weird in an interesting way. He could never run out of things to say. There was never a dull moment when you spoke to him. All he wanted was to love and be loved. It was that simple, but he was never lucky in love. I could never put my finger on why he struggled to find a person fit for him.  Our friendship lasted 5 years, it started roundabout 2010 until he passed on. To get to the part about how he passed, I need to pick this story up from mid-2015.

See, soon after I finished school I moved to Kimberley, where I started my life from scratch. No friends, no family, no cat or a dog. You would think that your bestie should be a key part of this transition, right? But I don't seem to remember having Mpho in my life. I would know because when I am on good terms with Mpho he would call, and his calls were for hours. Grief has taken so many memories. I don't blame it owing to the fact that forgetting helps me cope with the pain. You guys already know how my mind speaks. So yes, there are quite a lot of gaps in my mind about my relationship with Mpho.  I remember speaking to him occasionally about key moments in my life. Though he had been going through a lot. He moved back home and went on a hiatus. He eventually got in touch with me at some point, to let me know that he was now in PE. My memory of the details is still a big blur. Nonetheless, I do remember that he cut me off for asking about Mulalo. Mulalo had told me that she bumped into Mpho in Town and he passed her without greeting. lol those two were silly. So I called him out on it. He told me to stay out of it. And that's how I got cut off. He resurfaced Mid 2015. Little did we know that 4 Months later he would be gone and gone for good.

So it is the 8th of June 2015 at 23:40. I told you he likes to call/ text late. I don't know how long it had been since I was cut off but judging from the text it must have been long;

Mpho: Hi Mbofho, my name is Mpho, Mpho Ratshitanga. *Inserts laughing emoji’s*

He thought he was funny and in many ways he was. I was entertaining him. Lol I think it was him that named me the ICE queen or maybe he just embraced it.

 Mbofho: Hi Mpho

 I responded. I go on to tell him I still have his numbers saved. We must have been off for a very long time. Then the conversation flowed like there was no time missing. We spoke until just after midnight. I asked him to be a stranger and he promised he wouldn't be. And as if he knew this would be the last 4 months, one of the last things he said that day was, Goodnight Mbofho. I still love you too. Lol never-ending… I had not said ‘I love you’ to begin with, but ke I can already tell you that those last 4 months he would say I love you more times. than he did throughout our friendship. Not just in words but in conversation. He would often cut off a conversation he knew would make us fight. It was a good four months. I particularly kept reading the part where he said that he hoped we would stay friends forever. And stay friends we did, right up until the end.

The week before he went into a comma; I texted him. And honestly, I texted because I had boyfriend drama and I knew Mpho would know just what to say lol, but he didn't. He asked me when I would come to PE with his friend who is still a weird attachment. I responded and said I would come alone. We ended with what would be our last conversation, with me re-affirming  him that he is indeed a good guy and he responded by saying ‘’so they say’’ and continued to say, ‘’I believe that my life is going to see the love I give return to me’’ *inserts a sad emoji* I am still not sure why that made him sad.

A week later, after our previous conversation I was in Kimberley visiting my then boyfriend. I remember I was sitting in Thato’s living room when I got the call. It was the ex. Mpho's best buddy. The moment I answered that call I just knew something was wrong. I don't know why, but my gut just knew. As soon as I said hello, he just went on and said it. Words that still ring in my head even today. "Mbofho, Mpho o lovha''. Then as if there would be another Mpho we both know, I asked, ‘Mpho mu fhio’. He says Mpho Ratshitanga.  Why do people do this? When you are delivering such news please first ask how I am. Am I with people or am I alone. Please obtain some more information before you shock me to death.  At this point I'm in disbelief. I don't remember how the call ended but I remember shedding a few tears in front of Thato and Sechaba.

They tried their best to keep me distracted but I kept thinking of Mpho. What could have happened? He was just 25 years old. The story of Mpho's death is still a bizarre one. No one really knows what happened.

A week later I drove on a rainy, misty and foggy Saturday morning up the Phiphidi mountains to go lay my friend to rest. I remember how it just rained the whole day, the rain reminded me of an African superstition that says, the rain represents the tears of  the ancestors mourning a premature death. What a painful funeral. I didn't want to be alone that day so I picked up my other friend who lived in Phiphidi. That funeral was so sad. And yes I cried. I cried watching his mother stand by his grave as they lowered his coffin. His brother stood by her holding an umbrella over her. They both had blank expressions. One that showed emotional exhaustion. Or maybe disbelieve but no tears. She stood by her son's grave singing a Lutheran hymn. This was the saddest moment of that funeral. That moment is frozen in time. For a moment I forgot my grief and I felt hers.

 Fast forward two years later, I eventually went to visit "him" in PE like we had always planned. I went and stayed and slept in his old room. See, at the funeral I met his flat mate who then became a friend. That guy helped with filling in some of the gaps around Mphos' last days. What his state of mind was. So when my friend Akona invited me to her wedding it made sense to call Awelani up and let him know I would be coming to PE. Awelani often told me stories about how Mpho was always excited for my visit. I was surprised that Mpho used to talk about me with him, pleasantly surprised. I miss him still... I cannot believe it's been a full 6 years without a conversation. I still listen to John Mayer and think of him. What a friend!! What a life!! My only regret is not telling him enough how much he had become a shoulder to lean on. How I appreciated his presence. How I did love him. The ‘’ICE queen’’ in me never allowed me to fully express myself. I was always too cautious to not create confusion. Because I loved him in a non-romantic way, in a world where that's a foreign concept. Most people that knew us used to say he loved me, well, as in he was in love with me. Although I think he just loved me like a friend or like a sister. And it was great to experience that kind of love.

Mpho Ratshitanga, a boy who could talk on the phone for 6 hours. This is a story about a grave in my heart.

My mind Speaks...