ESCAPED IN IMAGINATIONS.

Phakani St, the only reason for its popularity in the years, Is it being named after the Phakani family. I still could not put two together, as to how my neighborhood could be so oblivious as to how they actually functioned as family,but almost everyone suspected that they were doing some illegal business. That could justify all that glamour.Still no one could point out what they did exactly. I couldn't either. I was also just assuming like everybody else. So all the rumors that circulated in the community were based on mere assumptions, speculations and opinions which could not be validated. So because our house was right across, people assumed that we knew what was going on, others would comment that we were covering their dirty business, which explained the reasons why they offered to paint our house.

Was it really necessary for my family to settle in the same street though?. I hated gossip so much, it was a daily meal in that township. 

Unlike the rest of the houses, That house was fenced in long brick walls, painted in black, and wired with an electric fence. They had a royal black matte gate and a cement pavement in their entrance. It was the biggest house in the neighborhood, with an orchard, who gets to have an orchard in townships? Like honestly. They had managed to put tar in the whole street unlike the rest, that had crushed stones, to prevent the streets from being to muddy in rainy seasons. Still the rain would always wash it all off, taking the municipality a long two months or more to fix. It slowly became a norm that the maintenance of the buildings and roads was virtually none- existent. 

I'd question my grandmother about the level  of negligence by the municipality, especially in black townships. She’d always give me the same response .“ this is a poor area, my child, poor people don't contribute much to the development of this country, hence the slow service”. What really got to me was that the sewers were constantly blocked, other days they would burst, and be left unattended to for weeks. The smell was unbearable, and hygienically, it was unhealthy. It was up until I grew some balls that I'd personally lay complaints myself.

 I would never stop pestering them until something was done. On the other side of the street was my house and a few other neighbors with similar simple structures, tightly close to each other, structured the same way and most had similar paintings. Only a few houses had been renovated to look a bit modern and some were slowly going through that process. 

It was a dreary place to reside in. That township was a breeding ground for gang violence and many other unsavory activities.  I lived with my four siblings, me being the oldest and my seventy-five year old granny, now with countless health issues. If it was  not her backbone aching  , it was  her eyesight blurred, or  her feet swelling. It was a whole struggle.I matriculated about a year ago, I wasn't the smartest nor the dumbest, but I was a part of the few that obtained a bachelors at my school. My school was just about 8 kilometers from my house. It also had the same problems as the community , poorly managed, low water supply and still used pit latrines. 

 There was No access to WiFi, with only just one computer lab and ten outdated Microsoft computers.It explains why it was listed among the under performing schools in the region. I never let that get to me, despite those circumstances. I still got my bachelors, and apparently we made history that year, as the first class to have obtained a  65% average pass rate. I remember the day the results were to be published, my nerves were on steroids, so many thoughts ran in my mind. 

Firstly I weighed the possibilities of me passing, that I would apply to be a Doctor at Medunsa, as my granny had wished for, all my life. For me to be a doctor. In the deepest part of my soul , I knew I just wanted to be a Producer of movies, soapies , you name it. I had buried that dream six feet deep, after weighing the odds of me getting that chance. I always knew it was expensive, and that it was probably offered in places I could never possibly  imagine stepping my feet on. My granny had bought a small 52 inch Panasonic TV, with her grant money,specifically to watch the news, and the South African soapies, from the likes of Skeem Sam. I hated those with my last breath.

The only thing I'd imagine myself doing while watching, was me behind those scenes, shouting ”cut”. On the other hand, I looked into possibilities of a fail, that thought was just as depressing as having pap on Christmas day. That meant I’d be stuck in this hell of a township for the rest of my miserable life. It meant I'd end up opening a salon and marrying some village boy and living below minimal wage. And that same cycle would be passed down to my children. That's when it would dawn on me that, breaking that cycle was entirely up to me.I was doing all that contemplating at one of my favorite spot, it was a bit further from home.

 That morning I decided to go there, after not being there for a while because I was caught up in my exams. It was sort of like a hill that had a beautiful view of what looked like a town. It's skyscrapers gave me the impression that it was an affluent place.I knew that when I got back home I would find my grandmother in the living room, arms folded, with her large reading glasses with double lenses placed right next to the newspaper on the table, waiting to break the news to me.

I was pretty convinced that the people who lived on that other part of town woke up to the sweet smell of lavender flowers, unlike the bickering smell of sewage and honking of taxis in the early mornings I experienced here. Or they were woken up by the chipping of birds or the bucks of chiwawa dogs.I imagined, they were the kind of people with large gardens, spectacular views and trees so tall enough to form a tunnel over the quiet streets.How I longed to be among those. My imagination would go really wild about all that could possibly be. I never even pictured crime existing there.

 Probably they even drove those cars i’d only see in magazines, and the kids there went to posh schools were they spoke good English and mingled with with other rich kids. It somehow gave me hope to know that a better world on the other side of town existed, the question was how I was gonna get myself there. It all seemed to far-fetched, but possible. I would later return home, to confidently fake smile and lie to my grandmother that I’d be happy to finally go to University. That I’d be thrilled to become a Doctor.

It was getting late and the sun had almost fully set, so I headed back home.  When I was almost at the gate, Then this white Range rover drives past me, only to stop a couple of meters away. I just ignored it and kept on walking towards the gate. I already knew it was probably one of the newest cars for the Phakani family. In just a moment,Someone steps out of the drivers door and starts walking towards me. A beauty I tell you. She was dressed in a black silk dress, paired with red stilettos and her hair neatly tied in a pony. 

She wanted to confirm if I was the girl she thought I was. Nomzamo’s daughter. Turned out she and my mother used to be friends before she passed on, and had come to check on her parents that evening, Mr and Mrs Phakani, I assumed. Since it was already late, she insisted I come see her the next morning. I agreed and she drove in the gate to her house.

Immediately as I walked in the house,my grandmother passed on the news to me. She was dancing all over the house, happy that her only grand daughter had passed her matric and was finally going to be a doctor. Though my thoughts were still fixated on that fine  lady  I met at the gate, the only thing I wanted, was for my grandmother to tell me all about her and how she and my mother were friends. I decided to keep it to myself and just find out the next morning, since she was already preoccupied by my results. I let her enjoy the moment.

As I was preparing myself the next morning, I couldn't help but think of the rumors about them being involved in  illegal deal, “could it be drugs? Or human trafficking?, would I be safe in there alone?, maybe I could go with granny, but no she invited only me.” Those were the thoughts that flooded my mind. But then again I thought, say it were true,how could she possibly invite me in her home. Dealers were very private people. 

The impression I had got from her, ” elegance”. I figured I should put on my favorite dress that I had wore for my 22nd birthday. It was a flattering knee length poker dot dress. I hadn't worn it since then, so that day seemed to be a perfect day to have it on. It gave me that needed confidence. I felt pretty in it, ready to take on the world. Behind those long walls, was far contradictory from what I thought of that family all those years. The only residents in that home were Mr and Mrs Phakani, who were gracefully aging and enjoying their retirement.

 Also present was Mr Phakani’s nurse, the helper and the maintenance guy, plus their three cute dogs. I didn't want to intrude In their personal matters as to why there was a nurse, but it was pretty obvious at first glance that Mr Phakani was diagnosed with a fatal disease. You could see the structure of his cheek bones from his face. None the less, he still look calm and content.

Naomi served me with Jacobs coffee and a home made velvet cake. I had always wanted to taste that coffee. I had heard a lot of people commending its taste. When we went shopping with Gogo the other day , I was shocked to find that it was such an expensive coffee, granny would never consider buying it. That was two re-coffees that would last us for about three full months.Miss Naomi narrated the whole story about her and my mother’s friendship, and that last she saw me, I was about 9 or ten years. She congratulated me of doing well at school and she asked me of my dreams and aspirations. I highlighted everything, not leaving the part about my passion for Film and Television. 

She offered me the opportunity to work at her consultants company while I study Film and Television, part time. She figured it would be a great opportunity for me to grow and experience a change of environment. And she added that it would remove the pressure of my grandmother to support me, and I would soon be able to assist her in raising my siblings. After everything was finalized at home, I packed my clothes and left. I Never had a lot of clothes anyway, it all fit in one small luggage. That was the least of my worries. 

I was just happy to finally leave. I set my feet on the other part of town, turned out my wild imaginations were almost accurate. It was just as I had imagined. I went on to enroll for Film and Television, and graduated tree years later and Miss Naomi hooked me up with an internship at SABC. My journey in the Film and Television industry was heading towards the right direction. I would soon be a Producer. My dreams were turned into reality.