Along with being a fabulous wife and mom I also wear the hat of daughter in-law. As much as I would like to think I am a great daughter –inlaw the honest fact is I am far from it. I believe each culture has its own pre-requisites for being regarded a great daughter in-law in some cultures it is education others wealth etc. In my culture I have experienced it is your ability to clean.
You can be as educated, or rich as you like if you don't wash dishes or can’t keep dust free furniture and polished tiles you are not worth your weight in “cows”. Many of you might find this blog strange in that you were raised to wake up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning to shift furniture, koropa on your hands and knees, and hand wash your clothing. I unfortunately am a Harlem girl, dishes to me was collecting and throwing away the Chinese takeaway containers. Laundry involved a bag of quarters and a laundromat.
I remember when I moved back to South Africa and to my grandmothers house in Thokoza everyday I would be the first one out on the streets. I would visit my friend Lerato's house and watch her; scarf on her head, pantyhose stuffed with sponges on her knees slaving away. At sixteen many tried but could not get me to conform to the cleaning rituals of my peers. I settled to staying at home and not visiting family because I could not be bothered with polishing brazo when I could be sleeping in and watching music videos.
This lifestyle suited me well till I met and fell in love with a Zulu man. I remember when I told my dad we are moving in together he looked at me and said “Nale, are you sure? Do you know it means you will have to do laundry?”My poor dad thought that idea alone would be enough to deter me from my decision, but I went in head first, ready to tackle this new life. Needless to say I failed. After countless fights about dishes, laundry, housework etc my poor husband reconciled with the fact that a maid like food is a necessity in our lives.
For many years my domestic handicap was a secret between my husband and I. Now, we are married and I am a makoti, rather than go in guns blazing ready to impress with my ability to wash blankets or polish tiles till you see your reflection, the best I could do is “eish I hate washing dishes”.
So as much as I love my mother in-law and as much as we have a great relationship I know she is thinking “out of all the girls he could bring home...” but it’s not all bad I did learn how to cook and bake in fact I excelled. So rather than kill them with kindness, I kill them with cake! After a great meal and dessert the dust on the table top is a little less evident.
