The Ditselas: Birthday Party and Drama

I hadn't anticipated writing this blog entry, and it's rather unfortunate that I am, but a bizarre turn of events this past week has prompted me with a story. On Thursday of last week I found myself alone at the house because Rachel had taken a trip with Jessica to Pretoria to buy some supplies for their girls clubs. I would be alone for a few days trying to keep myself busy and hanging out with the boys (Khutso and Garfield).

In the late afternoon on Thursday, there was a knock on our door. When I opened it, I gazed down to find Tebogo Ditsela's face beaming with that beautiful smile of hers and asking the oh-so-often-asked question at the Johnson door, "Where is Koketso?" I've become accustomed to the fact that I am rarely wanted and I have an almost automatic response now when turning that door handle. This time I had to tell little Tebogo that Rachel was out and wouldn't be back for a few days.

"But it's my birthday and I have a party" she said.

I responded, "Oh, I'm sorry ... when is your party?"

"Now."

"Well do you want me to come even though Koketso isn't here?"

"Yes."

"Okay, give me 5 minutes and I'll be over there" was my final comment before closing the door and hurriedly getting changed out of my lounging clothes into something a little more appropriate. By that I mean throwing on jeans and a baseball hat to cover my raggedy Andy looking hair.

I left the house not really knowing what to expect of this "party". I locked the door behind me and headed to the Ditselas'. Entering their gate and walking into the compound, I saw Maam Ditsela coming towards me. It was instantly obvious that she didn't care as much about her appearance as I did: She was standing there in her pajamas asking "Where's your camera?" I had honestly not even thought about bringing it. Even though our house is just within eyesight across the street, I didn't bother going home to fetch it either. Maam Ditsela had a point-and-shoot film camera we had given her a while back and she was satisfied with using that for the party.

As I walked onto the stoop and around towards the front door of their house, I caught the first glimpse of this festive event. Tebogo was sitting at a table, chocolate cake with lit candles in front of her. Surrounding her were about five other small children from the neighborhood, each with a plate full of sweets and Simba. The remaining guests consisted of Tebogo's family: Komotso (16), Collins (26), Maam Ditsela and one of Maam Ditsela's sisters.

Hardly a few seconds passed after my arrival before Komotso started the group in the singing of the happy birthday song. Tebogo blew out her candles and the party had begun. Collins, the oldest of the Ditsela clan, was the designated DJ for the night. He had moved the family's stereo out onto the patio and put in his "hot mix". I had yet to even greet anyone (which is an important custom in this culture) and now I could hardly even hear myself think because the music was so loud. I simply nodded at Collins across the way and watched as Komotso began cutting the cake.

I knew I was an "honored guest", so to speak, and that a big piece of chocolate cake was only minutes away. Considering Rachel wasn't at home and my dinner prior to coming to the party consisted of a peanut butter and honey sandwich, the cake looked incredibly appetizing. Sure enough, minutes later, I was stuffing my face and trying to have a conversation with Collins above the music.

Collins is home for a while from the cities. He has been living on his own down in Pretoria trying to find work. His mother's opinion (and mine I'm beginning to think) is that he isn't trying hard enough and has been taking advantage of his mother's kindness. Don't get me wrong, Collins is a nice guy and seems to love his family dearly, but something is just missing. He is already the father of a child with a girl he is not in a serious relationship with. His life just isn't coming together right now.

After the cake and snacks were quickly eaten, the sugar-driven children were now out on the mock dance floor and jiving (South Africans often use the word jiva to refer to dancing) their little hearts out. The leader of the pack was none other than the birthday girl herself. For having turned just 10 years old, this kid has more confidence and smarts than most secondary school kids in our village. And her dancing is some of the cutest I've seen.

For the rest of the evening, I just sat back with a huge smile on my face and enjoyed watching the Ditsela family have fun. This was a real treat for me, getting to take part in such an intimate family event. Collins and Komotso began dancing with all of the younger children and quite a show was started. I don't think I said more than two words to Maam Ditsela the whole night. We both just sat there laughing and watching as her children captured all of our attention. The more time went on, the more I regretted not having my camera with me. Sorry I don't have any photos to share!

Later in the evening, Jones Ditsela (23) showed up at the house after having been out with his friends in the village. He came just in time to catch some of the dancing and have a last piece of cake. Jones was on break from school. He is studying to be a lawyer at the University of Limpopo in Polokwane, and he only has one more year to finish up. Jones is a bright kid and another good reason that Mma Ditsela is a very proud mother.

Maam Ditsela invited me into the house where I sat for a few minutes as she began preparing dinner in the kitchen for the family. Knowing that I would soon be asked to stay for dinner, I quickly but politely made an excuse to head back home for the rest of the evening. As is the custom, Maam Ditsela didn't want me to walk out alone. She asked Jones to walk me to the gate. I don't get to talk with Jones much, but I found myself speaking easily this night. After what I had witnessed at Tebogo's party, I told him:

"You sure are lucky to have the family that you do. I can see how much everyone cares about each other. That's a rare thing you know."

He simply smiled as we got to the gate and we said our goodbyes. Although I hadn't been real excited to leave my house earlier in the evening, I was glad that Tebogo came to get me. Her party was just what I needed to welcome me back to the village after a few weeks on vacation. It was the Africa I have grown to love.

-- cut to Sunday afternoon (three days later) --

Rachel came back from Pretoria late on Saturday night and we slept well into the morning on Sunday (for us, that means about 8am or so). Around lunchtime, Rachel was in the kitchen cooking and I was making my way back into the main room to work on the computer a bit.

I suddenly heard mma yelling out on the patio in front of our house. She was directing her anger toward the street and my first assumption was that some of the goats were misbehaving, which typically receives the same type of reaction from mma. But then I heard the voice of a child, screaming at the top of her lungs. It was apparent that the screams were accompanied by tears and that something was happening outside.

The next image I saw still haunts my memory, as it is one of those incidents I was not expecting to see. I wasn't even sure what I saw at first. As I looked out our windows toward the goat and cow kraals, there was a chase taking place on the street. Rounding the corner of our property were two young men. I noticed that the man doing the chasing, who was without a shirt, was holding something high in his hand. My first instinct and fear was that it was a gun. The commotion outside forced my mind to panic and I wasn't really sure what I should have been seeing.

When I focused my attention, I saw Collins Ditsela chasing his brother Jones in shear anger with a butcher knife held like a dagger above his head. The two men continued around the corner of our property as I quickly made the decision to run outside and figure out what was going on. As I did so, our mma had already made her way toward our gate in their direction. When I stepped from our door, I saw that the childish screams were coming from Tebogo Ditsela, who was sprinting at full speed after her brothers. Not far behind her were Maam Ditsela and Komotso, all of whom were obviously trying to stop whatever chain of events it was that had begun at their house.

In the few moments it took me to get outside, I lost sight of the brothers. When I ran toward the edge of our property and toward the gate onto the street, I saw that Collins and Jones had made their way toward our neighbor's compound. Luckily, Collins had not yet caught up with Jones, but they were frighteningly close. Matlatse, our neighbor's son (about Jones' age), came onto the scene quickly as he realized what was happening. Jones ran onto their property because he knew he would get help there and Matlatse luckily caught Collins at the gate before he had the chance to enter the compound. Matlatse grabbed Collins' arm, the one that held the knife, and struggled to hold him back for a solid minute as others approached the scene.

I silently watched in both disbelief and horror as the situation unfolded. I stood at our gate on the edge of the street as Tebogo ran past me still screaming, tears flowing from her eyes. I had just heard Maam Ditsela yell for Tebogo to go get the cell phone from their house. It was apparent that even Maam Ditsela didn't know what to do. I think she was preparing to call an ambulance, or possibly the police.

Collins was now standing at the gate of our neighbor's, the knife having been stripped from his hand. Matlatse, our neighbor, Collins, Maam Ditsela and our mma were all standing there together. Collins was yelling at the top of his lungs and gesturing in wild and animated motions: He was obviously furious beyond comprehension about something.

What could have provoked this?

I stood there, trying to catch my breath, all while contemplating that very question. These two brothers, whom I had just spent time with a few days before, were now so angry with one another that it came to this. And I hadn't just spent time with them - I witnessed the joy and love of their family. It was such a happy occasion. Now the birthday girl was terrified because she feared that one of her brothers might kill the other.

Fortunately it didn't come to that. Rachel and I still aren't even sure what exactly happened and what infuriated Collins so much. We assume that Maam Ditsela will one day get around to telling us, but we don't feel it's an appropriate question to ask at this point in time. We're just glad that nothing serious resulted from the incident.

I don't really know what to make of these two stories. The events of Sunday were horrific, but even more so following my experience with the Ditsela family on Thursday evening. I just hope that the Ditsela family can recover from his. Pray for them. Maam Ditsela is dear to us and we know this took a huge toll on her, especially as such a public event in the community. Gossip is terrible in these small African villages and we know she probably fears the worst about what will be said about her sons and the Ditsela family in general.