Chapter 30 | Rats for roaches and Cats for rats

Our house was considerably small for a family of six, but nonetheless, it was still a place we could call ‘home’. Mama was the thread that held it all together and if it wasn’t for her our house would have fallen prey to termite infestation and grime filled floors, literally. Papa couldn’t care less about the state of the house.

I don’t blame him though.

He grew up in a dingy, one bedroom house, that involuntarily hosted rats that dined on steroids and cockroaches that mated with their Durban counterparts and then migrated. For him, the mere fact that our house contained a bathroom, and that too, indoors, was reason enough for it to be featured on Top Billing.

Miya and I shared a bunk bed (courtesy of Nani) while Eesa and Altaaf made do with a darkened grey sleeper couch that was folded up each morning, to enable us adequate space for walking. A mahogany, three door cupboard, fitted on one side and to the right of our bunk bed was a large enough window that looked out into the garden.

We had painted our room, with the aide of Innocence, our part-time Gardener slash handyman, a bold yellow and the edgings a deep summer blue. It looked bigger than it actually was, as a result.

Our house, thankfully, was larger than some of the other semi’s in the area. The entrance door led straight into our lounge. A drab grey two seater couch with tiny triangle’s in odd shades of pink, blue and green, stood on one side, a three seater to its left. The coach was the remnants of a customer’s order.

Mama’s sewing machine nestled between the door that led to the passage and the unlit fireplace on the far left corner. Directly opposite the lounge was our lone bathroom. If I stood facing its door, to my right was our room and to the left was Mama and Papa’s room. Next to the bathroom was a larder which we used for storage and ultimately a computer room slash wardrobe for the boys.

I can’t imagine what our house would have been like had Mama not intervened. It could possibly have been taped off and considered an artefact for foreigners to capture in photographic memory and for South Africans to point out to their children as a reminder of the result of negligence.