Zazi and Mzamo Quotes in Mother to Mother
“For shoulders so tender, so far from fully formed, great is the weight you bear. You hold yourself and you are held ...” — she paused before saying the word ... “responsible.” She said the word with a sigh, as though she were a judge sending a young person, a first offender, to the gallows. Sending him there because of some terrible and overwhelming evidence she dared disregard only at her own peril.
[…]
“Mama,” she said, her voice once more her own. “You must free this your son.”
I said I didn’t understand.
“You know what I’m talking about. Go home. Think about your child. Children are very sensitive. They know when we hate them.” After a small pause she shook her head. “Perhaps, I use a word too strong ... but, resentment can be worse than hate.”
It was my turn to gasp. My whole being turned to ice. Tears pricked my eyes. I felt my father-in-law’s eyes on me and turned mine his way. His brow was gathered, his eyes wide with unasked questions. But the sangoma wasn’t done.
“But to come back to why you have come to see me,” she broke our locked eyes, “this child has seen great evil in his short little life. He needs all the love and understanding he can get.”
Zazi and Mzamo Quotes in Mother to Mother
“For shoulders so tender, so far from fully formed, great is the weight you bear. You hold yourself and you are held ...” — she paused before saying the word ... “responsible.” She said the word with a sigh, as though she were a judge sending a young person, a first offender, to the gallows. Sending him there because of some terrible and overwhelming evidence she dared disregard only at her own peril.
[…]
“Mama,” she said, her voice once more her own. “You must free this your son.”
I said I didn’t understand.
“You know what I’m talking about. Go home. Think about your child. Children are very sensitive. They know when we hate them.” After a small pause she shook her head. “Perhaps, I use a word too strong ... but, resentment can be worse than hate.”
It was my turn to gasp. My whole being turned to ice. Tears pricked my eyes. I felt my father-in-law’s eyes on me and turned mine his way. His brow was gathered, his eyes wide with unasked questions. But the sangoma wasn’t done.
“But to come back to why you have come to see me,” she broke our locked eyes, “this child has seen great evil in his short little life. He needs all the love and understanding he can get.”