Letter from a friend

Kimmy Msibi and her sister Mhlabase were like family to Fezekile Kuzwayo

Fezeka my darling, I am so sorry I could not make it to your send-off. Sorry I could not sit with Big B during this very difficult time. But I know you know my prayers are with her. I know that your biggest worry is for her. Do know that I will not stop loving her now that you are gone, and mostly that she will forever take comfort in the great love you two shared.

I struggled to write this, saying goodbye to a sister is near impossible. So I imagine you sitting comfortably at the foot of my bed and telling me: “It’s OK my darling, life is beautiful even in loss.”

I remember after you found us. You walked into the house and declared: “Well, I do not have much family and so you are my family and have always been. We will call our mothers Big B and Small B.” And so we became family. You were the sister who brought a balance to us, Hlabie being older and thus stricter, you being kind and sweet and me, well I suppose being a brat and enjoying the attention of my sisters.

Sadly, our wonderful sisterhood is known due to that horrendous event, but I want to remember the good times.

How about the day we went shopping and I made you two laugh so hard with my trolley and “Bootylicious” dance. Of course this was partly driven by your wonderful form. As you remember, I used to hit your bum every time and say “dudlu”. You loved that, it made you laugh every time. That laugh, Sister Woman, I will never forget.

But then there was that early morning in November 2005 when I got the SMS. I did not read it, could not read it for I knew that something was amiss. The first call in the morning you tried so hard to be brave and thought of not breaking my heart, so you said very little to me. But two hours later, at 11am, you broke the news to me. I knew at that point my role as “baby sister” would be no longer. That I had to be brave and give you support, love and care. I never questioned you as you never asked me if I believed you.

Nobody knows how hard that period was on all of us. It was obviously especially hard on you, not only because of [your ordeal], but because you were away from your family. You then insisted on seeing us and there began our clandestine, cloak-and-dagger visits. In true Fezi style you refused to spend those moments in sadness, instead we had picnics and laughter. We were even able to go to a drive-in theatre. Fezeka, only you could strive for joy in the hardest of times. That is what I learnt most from you.

My sister you were brave. Nobody dimmed your fire, not the HIV nor [your ordeal]. Not the insults nor the fear. Nothing dimmed your fire. That is the woman I wish the world knew.

You stood up for yourself, in your words to me: “Sisi, I have been raped before and never stood up for myself the way I should have. If I do not stand up now, it will keep happening. It must stop.”

There is so much more I could say, but my eyes cannot contain the tears. I could never really say goodbye for I know there will be many times when I see you at the foot of my bed looking at me with love.

You will never fade again. You will forever be a bright star, Kimmy

My sister you were brave. Nobody dimmed your fire, not the HIV nor [your ordeal]. Not the insults nor the fear. That is the woman I wish the world knew