On Monday morning, I came into work feeling down. I had been under the weather and by many accounts, the same bug had hit my colleagues too. Perhaps our feelings of dread were compounded by the announcement of another interest rate increase and news of another looming petrol hike, writes Gasant Abarber in a new #SliceofGasant.
Abarder, who recently launched his book, Hack with a Grenade, is among the country’s most influential media voices. Catch his weekly column here, exclusive to Cape {town} Etc.
Why don’t they just cancel Monday, I thought to myself. January too while you’re at it.
I got to the office first on this Monday morning. The floors were gleaming, the kitchen pristine and everything was shiny and in its place. Then, seconds after I arrived, the door to our office opened and there she was: Aunty L with her broom and other cleaning equipment. Lighting up our office as she does every morning.
It’s no secret that I’m Aunty L’s favourite in the office. Perhaps in this entire place. We shoot the breeze every morning and exchange stories about our families. There is often hearty laughter amidst the banter. She never complains and leaves the place looking sparkling.
On this particular Monday morning, Aunty L’s awesome personality was the tonic I needed to get going.
It is a funny old thing. There is a statue in the quad where I work of a domestic worker and her son who had just graduated. I work for one of the best education institutions in Africa. Until now I hadn’t thought much about the statue and its significance but this Monday morning it hit me hard.
How dare I feel this lethargic? Aunty L is here bright and early, bringing to life the significance of the statue. The 58-year-old aunty from Delft gets up early every morning to make sure the things we take for granted are in place so we can start our day without a hitch.
It is her son’s final year studying for a Bachelor of Education degree at the University of the Western Cape. Even though she is a contractor, the university extends its rebate for fix-term employees too so that their children can benefit from free tuition.
Aunty L proudly announces she has her registration fee ready for her son. It is the only amount employees like her have to pay for their children to study towards a degree that is life-changing.
Aunty L is also incredibly proud of her son who works part-time at a retailer and contributes to the household expenses.
Maybe the reason I get on so well with Aunty L is that, without realising it sooner, she reminds me so much of my mom.
I’ve been feeling rather entitled and forgetting my own story. How my mom took two trains and a taxi to get to work each day to help provide for the family along with my dad. How the company she worked for paid my full tuition when I was a student.
Like Aunty L, my mom knew how to stretch a rand. She never complained about the price of food groceries, her travelling expenses or the general cost of living. As they say on the Cape Flats, they just “kap aan”. Reflecting on their stories makes me count my blessings.
It is a mantra for me this year that I had forgotten to remind myself of on this particular Monday morning. The affirmation to wake up every morning healthy and alive and remind myself of just how lucky I am.
The kids are at school, they have clothes and a roof over their heads, there is food in the fridge and all the debit orders are covered. I am indeed lucky.
I am lucky to have Aunty L in my life and I am lucky to have a mom like mine, who with my dad, had the same fortitude as my very wise and hardworking colleague. They just forge while we kids were none the wiser about their daily struggles.
We dare not complain. Aunty L was the klap behind the head I needed this Monday morning. I will never walk past that statue again without knowing what it really means.
Also read:
Cracking the code to South Africa’s most infamous school hell run
Picture: Gasant Abarder