Rabbie Serumula. Picture by Nokuthula Mbatha
Underneath the canopy of an oak tree, its lush leaves dancing to the gentle breeze, Kganya and I will sit. The sun, a golden orb in the sky, casting its warm rays upon us, painting the world in hues of amber and honey. The air will be alive with the fragrance of blooming flowers, laced with the sweet melody of chirping birds.
As I gaze into Kganya’s eyes, pools of innocence and curiosity, I will feel a pang of sorrow mingled with a deep longing for understanding. His question will hang in the air like a delicate cobweb, waiting to be untangled.
“Daddy, why were you not by my side when I was a baby?” Kganya’s voice, like a gentle stream, will flow with an undercurrent of melancholy.
With a heavy heart, I will take a moment to compose my thoughts, feeling the weight of my son’s gaze upon me like a thousand suns.
“Ah, my dear Kganya, life weaves a complex tale at times, filled with twists and turns that even the wisest of sages cannot foresee.”
The breeze will whisper through the leaves, carrying with it the scent of memories long past.
“You see, when you graced this world with your presence, I was locked in a labyrinth of my own sorrow. Your grandfather’s passing had left me adrift in a sea of darkness, yearning for a lighthouse to guide me to the shore, to you.”
Kganya’s brow wrinkles in ambivalence, his eyes searching mine, for solace, for silence in the deafening currents of emotion.
“But why did you not reach out to me, Daddy? Did you not yearn for my embrace, as I did for yours?”
I sigh, feeling the weight of my son’s innocence pierce through the armour of my bitter reflections.
“Oh, sweet Kganya, my heart ached for you every moment we were apart. Yet, I was a shipwrecked sailor, lost within the tempest of my own grief, struggling to navigate the treacherous waters of my soul.”
The sun dips lower on the horizon, casting long shadows that dance across the carpet of grass.
“Does this mean you did not love me, Daddy?” Kganya’s voice trembles like a fragile leaf caught in the autumn breeze.
My heart clenched at the thought, a thousand stars twinkling in the vast expanse of his eyes.
“Never, my precious Kganya, you are the light that pierces through the darkness of my existence, illuminating the path to redemption. Though I may have faltered in my duties as a father, my love for you burns as bright as your name, your spell.”
As the last rays of sunlight wash us in their warm embrace, I pull Kganya close, feeling the weight of his forgiveness like a burden lifted from my weary soul. At that moment, beneath the canopy of the oak tree, in the symphony of nature’s chorus, I will tell him; you’ve always lived in my silent prayers. It is a blessing to see you again.
Saturday Star
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