Mama Noxie

Mama Noxie, as Chelsey, Megan and I referred to her as, was a very welcoming woman that made us instantly feel like her children from day one.  Noxie’s home was very accommodating.  The bathroom was inside and our room had a TV in it.  Noxie became comfort for me and was always a bright face to see.  We spent most of our time with her during our car rides to JL Zwane (where we would listen to Mama Noxie’s rap music) and after group dinners each night.  We asked Noxie to tell us her story and she gladly shared with us the story of her life.  She grew up in her current home with her parents.  Her father passed away in 1998 and her mother passed away in 2001.  Her seventeen-year-old son was murdered in 2003.  At first, Chelsey, Megan and I were too uncomfortable and scared to ask Noxie for more details about the story of her son. 

The last night we got the courage to ask Noxie to share with us what she felt comfortable sharing, regarding her son’s murder.  Noxie explained that her son was killed over a miscommunication of a cell phone robbery.  Someone who had the same name as her son, stole a cell phone and got away.  Soon some people came looking for the robber, but were directed to her son.  When they found her son, he innocently identified himself as they asked.  Her son was then taken by the men and beat to death. 

They found out immediately after that they had the wrong person and turned themselves into the police.  The police arrived at Noxies door and asked if she wanted to press charges.  She explained that she didn’t want to press charges due to the mistake and that God would take care of them.  She then explained how she had never felt so alone, but learned the meaning of real friends during that time of loneliness and confusion.  The scene of her son’s murder is right next to her place of work, which made it hard for her to pass by and attend work, but she explained that she needed to do something otherwise she would continue to think about it.

I sat there speechless and unable to react.  I cannot imagine a mother having to lose their child over a stupid material thing and a miscommunication.  Noxie’s story really helped highlight the violence and misunderstandings that happen in the townships on a daily basis.  Since the time of apartheid, violence has been a natural act committed against black Africans, coloured and white people.  That violence has translated into everyday life when dealing with conflict.

More than anything, I was saddened as Noxie continued to say that she would miss us staying with her, since Akhona is leaving soon also.  She doesn’t like to be staying at home all by herself.  It made me almost break into tears as I tried to imagine that being my mom.  I would hate for her to ever feel so alone inside.  The bright side of this feeling of Noxie’s is that she has an amazing community of friends that help her feel fulfilled and whole.  Noxie was a great Mama and I will never forget how she opened her home and her heart to us.