CHARITY VILAKAZI - ALIKHO IZULU?

Exhibition Statement

When I was cleaning my parents house I found old dairy entries from my teenage years and the first thing I thought when reading what I wrote was damn, “I’ve changed...” 

But there was an unfinished story I was writing down and it said mtshuku (grandma), died this week and that is when I stopped writing anything remotely connected to feelings really. Because a part of me was numb, I didn’t cry at all and I didn’t go to her funeral, I did not know how to be, I did not know whether I was up or down, I did not know whether to smile or frown, I did not know whether I was awake or asleep and when I was asked if I was doing okay my response was that I’m just Fine. 

But I had trouble sleeping for weeks and I kept that to myself till that one night (mtshuku) visited me in my dreams, I did not recognise her at first because it was a younger version of her than she smiled that’s when I saw her. She gestured to come sit next to her. She was weaving a blanket and the conversation started with, “I’m Not upset that you did not attend my funeral because that is not a place for kids...” I apologised anyway, and she gave me her famous smile. 

She said, “I’m happy that you picked up that blue feather,” because that was me giving her access. I remember asking, so how’s heaven but she laughed and said what do you mean when you say heaven because where I am is not heaven, it can not be described in words and there are no tales told about this realm. 

She was talking but it was like she was on mute. She was laughing, she sang, she danced describing this “place” as a feeling than she asks me why do you think I look so youthful.