Conventional Desires and Passions

“The conventional view serves to protect us from the painful job of thinking,” John Kenneth Galbraith

The rain had fallen, but drained instantly through the deep sands, leaving the substrate completely devoid of moisture. This reflected Keeya’s soul as she watched the night creeping in. She watched the stars and felt as if she was observing the dunes. She thought of herself as a drop in the ocean, in the world of unknown mysteries. Not only that, but she was devoid of tears and the images of her brother deluged her mind.

She was born to Naledi and Mmusi, who lived within the Tswana community. Kenosi was her elder brother and Ngaka was the last born of the family. Their family struggles were not different from those of any other African family. Patriarchal setup, misogynist subscription and powerful traditions described their family. This gave her brother’s enough reason to gravitate towards phylogeny, as she dreamt of a more liberated family of her own. Her mother was broken in all ways; financially, physically, emotionally and spiritually, all in the name of traditions and culture.

Kenosi grew a zeal to be everything his father wasn’t. He was more than determined to pursue his dreams. He followed societal structures, completed his academics, became a known medic in the Southwest of Botswana. Furthermore, he was a believer of the adage, “a people without knowledge of their past, origin and culture is like a tree with no root”. He upheld every single tradition and ritual through his life events. His marriage ceremony is an ideal reflection of the traditions, rituals and foundations set by his forefathers.

Reneilwe had irresistible charms on Kenosi. She was a lioness with the beauty of a rose. Their love was like the sky’s blue, that only over the years the strength of the hues was noticeable. It was equivalent to the up-close of the sky which appears like blue water, yet miles away it was blue as fairy tales dreams. Everyone celebrated them, and Kenosi attained status as he could attend meetings and events only for married men, for instance, Patlo (an event where potential in-laws visit a would-be bride's place to ask for her hand in marriage). He was living the societal dream.

“Never let your desire for love override your value and self-worth. Without hesitation, walk away from anything that threatens your peace and self-worth,” Izey Victoria Odiase.

As the days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years, Reneilwe true colours were revealed. The institution that was so admired became a battlefield. She was a blend of demands and expectations, just like her society oriented her. Kenosi found it hard to find an equilibrium.

She withdrew his love right at the start as soon as he was addicted to her touch. How quickly she gave him only ice. Then she sat there as if she were a victim and waited to be soothed, waiting for him to pour in the warmth she refused to make for herself. Then, as he drained over the years, she took more, accused more, had ice storms more often, more harshly... until he broke... and she blamed him for that... absolved herself. Society supported her, and Kenosi didn’t have a space to share his tales.

Kenosi endured long spells of abuse. He could not make phone calls or have friends. He would eat on her command, and all conjugal passions and pleasures were subject to her cue. Likewise, he was a miserable man with nothing to live for. He was, however, the man, head of the family and strength describes his character. He believed in the power of love, and even though the nights were longer, he believed dawn would break and all would be a tale of the past. His wounds turned into scars, and traumas haunted him. Every night was an episode of a nightmare and horror fusion. He knew this was not life, he neither needed nor would wish for his worst enemy. His trust for tradition, protection of public image, desire for love and pressures derived from society could not allow him to walk away. It is a sign of weakness, ain’t it? He was a withering flower, waiting to be tossed in the wind.

Keeya was swamped in a roller coaster of emotions and pain that was beyond description. This was the night she would have to spend in a room with her beloved brother one more time. The only difference is that he was in a casket. She could not dialogue with anyone. The room was empty, and they provided only a mattress for her. It was going to be a long night, but she knew that was the ideal description of her brother’s life in marriage.

Her mind was constantly wandering. Why did her brother result in taking his own life? Where did the genuine love vanish to? Does humanity really exist? Is the justice system real? What about the morality of humanity? Is every dream worth pursuing? What truly describes the strength in a person? The why, how, and when questions clouded her mind. It was going to be the week that her brother would be laid to rest, with rituals and traditions performed. Everyone would finally leave and life would go on, but her life would never be the same. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by moments that take our breaths away — Maya Angelou —. In pursuit of our dreams, we encounter seasons. It is wise to determine those that are worth our breaths. We believe life is 10% what happens and 90% of how we handle situations.