Posted on April 18, 2011
My grandmother was born and raised in Namaqualand. My grandparents stayed in Namaqualand for a while until they moved to Stikland. In Stikland my grandparents were both working and they stayed on the premises where my grandmother was employed as a housemaid. In 1957 tragedy struck. My grandmother was brutally murdered and her body dumped near the railway station. At the time of death, she was 33 years and a mother of four. My mother Minah at about ten years was the eldest and the youngest was six months old.
My grandmother was laid to rest in Stikland and subsequently, due to stress caused by the tragic loss, my Sekuru decided to return to Rhodesia with the children. Sekuru was a tall and dark handsome African man, grandmother was a coloured woman and all the children were 'visibly coloured', being light in complexion. Mother recalls being detained at Mafikeng for some time to verify why an African man was travelling with coloured children.
For Sekuru, who grew up in Rhodesia, returning home demanded minor adjustments from the life he was used to over the past few years. However, for my mother and the rest of her siblings it required a major reorientation. The shift included learning a new language as well as a new diet in a different environment. Upon arrival in Rhodesia the family settled in the rural areas of Chihota in Mashonaland East Province. To date two of the four siblings are alive, my mother and my uncle.
Many years passed and Sekuru remarried and had another family. He passed away in 1994. Though he was the only source of information about grandmother, he was extremely uncooperative in passing on the information. Because my mother was ten when she left Cape Town, she had vague recollections of the murder incident, places and names of people. In the 1970s my mother worked at Andrew Fleming, a 'European only' hospital in Salisbury renamed Parirenyatwa after independence. Most of the coloured employees at the hospital originated from Cape Town, which created a platform for my mother to find out about her family in South Africa. My mother met 'Auntie' Sithole who grew up in Namaqualand and coincidentally had known my grandmother. She indicated that my grandmother's brother, Uncle Parek, was still alive, but my mother had no material means of following up this lead.
When I came to Cape Town in 2009 for my studies at UCT, Auntie Sithole provided me with the contact details of her sister in Namaqualand. However, attempts to communicate failed as she only speaks Afrikaans, a language I cannot access.
In December 2010, when I went home to Zimbabwe for the Christmas holidays my friend Frieda from Cape Town visited. When Frieda met my mother, she volunteered to assist. She convinced my mother to come to Cape Town and would assist as she speaks Afrikaans. I eventually came with my mother to Cape Town on 16 January 2011. Frieda communicated with the people in Namaqualand. Unfortunately, the person we were referred to could not be located as she was out of town.
Initially my mother wanted to go straight to Namaqualand, but I was hesitant because of the distance, the language barrier and the fact that we know no one from Namaqualand. I persuaded my mother to visit Stikland first since she was sure that grandmother was buried in Stikland. We spent the whole afternoon in Stikland near the railway station so that my mother could bring back her memories. She remembered the gum trees and the white house where grandmother was employed as a housemaid.
We proceeded to the nearby Bellville/Stikland cemetery. By the time, we arrived at the cemetery the offices had already closed. We managed to go into the graveyard but could not get anywhere because the graves were not in chronological order. As we were coming out of the cemetery, I wrote down the telephone numbers of the booking office. The following morning we contacted the office with the incomplete information that we had that included the first name, the cause of death and the year of death, 1957. The lady we spoke to promised to get back to us after checking the records.
We could not believe it when she telephoned with the information, which included the surname, the grave number and the name and the address of the person who was responsible for the grave at that time. Unfortunately the address only included the street name but no street number. Luckily mother did remember the family who were responsible for the grave. We then proceeded to the cemetery with the grave number. We could not believe our luck when the officials at the graveyard pointed to us the grave.
Mother recalls that Sekuru was known as Sixpence. We do not know whether it was the official name or nickname. Sekuru also used the name Alexander whereas his other name was Mathew Tsvere. Since we had grandmother's full names, we tried to check with the Police in Bellville on the murder record. Unfortunately, they no longer have the records. However, we managed to get an affidavit, which we took to the home affairs in order to obtain a copy of the death certificate. The officials from the cemetery advised us that the grave was still public property and gave us an option to purchase it. We have since paid for and taken ownership of the grave. We are now raising funds for a tombstone.
We are still in the process of finding other relatives in Namaqualand. I am hopeful. I admit that it saddens me but at the same time a relief to know where the remains of my grandmother lie. I am grateful that my mother, despite the fact that she never came back to South Africa after she had left in 1958, could remember something. We now know where our grandmother is buried and can go and pay our respects.