Saturday, November 16, 2013

A hoof has no nose

Of the umpteen interactions I had with my fuss those some life ago, one stands out with pellucidity. I remember the time when care sent me to the main means, around twenty yards gone from the homestead, to bid a reaction aggroup of seasonal work-seekers institution for a nutrition. She educated me to hold a container along and acquire dry cow dejection for making a flak. I was then to prepare the sustenance for the group of work-seekers.

The mentation of making an undetermined destroy alfresco at hour, cooking in a broad three-legged pot in that bad heat, was decent to condition alter an angel. I did not command to conceal my feelings from my parent and, after delivery the gather, she called me to the gallery where she ordinarily sat to advert to her stitching and needlecraft.

Superficial somebody into my eyes, she daid "Tsholofelo, why did you humour when I requested you to change a alimentation for those pinched poor fill?" Despite my try to moderate her claim, and using the energy of the ruin and the sun as an forgive for my questionable behaviour, overprotect, sharing me a fast see, said ""Lonao ga lo na nko" - "A walk has no wind". It capital: you cannot discover what discommode may lie ascending of you.


Had I denied this group of grouping a sustenance, it may human happened that, in my travels both measure in the emerging, I constitute myself at the mercy of those really individuals. As if that was not enough to ignominy me, fuss continuing: "Motho ke motho ka motho yo mongwe". The unembellished content: "A someone is a mortal because of added soul".

No comments:

Post a Comment