My Life On The Kitchen Floor

By Jelta Fredericks

My life on the kitchen floor is the memoir of a young girl who found herself in a village not knowing where she came from or who her family was. In the heart of the apartheid era, this little girl was found in the middle of nowhere and unsure of what race she really was. Too fair-skinned to be a “black” African yet too tanned to be a “white” African, she did not know where she fitted in.

Taken in by an elderly lady with special needs, she grew up on a kitchen floor where she learnt to survive on the bare minimum. Hunger was rife, however she managed to survive against all odds and was fortunate enough to document her life story... Where was she from? How did she get to the village she ended up in? This memoir takes the reader through an emotional journey of a woman putting the pieces of her life together to try and make sense of her origin. The story is a true example of how one can overcome, endure and survive...

I would sincerely like to thank my daughter-in-law, Christal Fredericks, who helped me complete this journey. I find myself at a loss for words that she selflessly gave up her time to help me put the pieces of this puzzle together and create this memoir of my life. We were on this journey together and shared tears together as I walked her through each chapter. I am ever so grateful that I completed this task with her at my side.

This journey has created a new-found love for each other and with God by our side, we were able to finish this together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jelta Fredericks
• Release date: Oct 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370822324

Book preview

MY LIFE ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR

MY LIFE ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR

Jelta Fredericks

Copyright © 2017 Jelta Fredericks

Published by Jelta Fredericks Publishing at Smashwords

First edition 2017

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the copyright holder.

The Author has made every effort to trace and acknowledge sources/resources/individuals. In the event that any images/information have been incorrectly attributed or credited, the Author will be pleased to rectify these omissions at the earliest opportunity.

Published by Author using Reach Publishers’ services,

P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631

Printed and bound by Novus Print Solutions

Edited by Noreen Thomson for Reach Publishers

Cover designed by Reach Publishers

Website: www.reachpublishers.co.za

E-mail: [e-mail]

Typing done by Christal Fredericks

CONTENTS

Synopsis

Chapter 1. Where it All Started

Chapter 2. Introduction

Chapter 3. A Child is

Chapter 4. Research on an Inquisitive Mind

Chapter 5. This is My Story from Birth Until Now

Chapter 6. Love Paragraph

Chapter 7. My Childhood Memories of Christmas

Chapter 8. My First Day at School

Chapter 9. School

Chapter 10. My Chores

Chapter 11. Fresh Cow Dung

Chapter 12. The Continuation of My Childhood

Chapter 13. Church

Chapter 14. My Life in The City of East London

Chapter 15. Relationships

Chapter 16. My Profession

Chapter 17. More of Who I Am

Chapter 18. Marriage

Chapter 19. Wrong Reasons

Chapter 20. The Abuse

Chapter 21. South Africa and our Racial Issues

Chapter 22. Language

Chapter 23. My Experience with God

Chapter 24. Life Choices

Chapter 25. The Fulfilment of My Life

Chapter 26. Conclusion

Chapter 27. Gratitude

Chapter 28. Memories

Synopsis

This is the true story of a little girl raised in the tiny village of Shiloh on the outskirts of Whittlesea, a small town in the Eastern Cape. Inhabited by coloured and black communities, this nondescript village is not even indicated on the map.

The little girl’s identity remained a mystery. Who was this baby girl? Was she black, coloured or white? Who was her mother? Who was her father? Was she kidnapped at birth and raised by people claiming to be part of her family? Was she orphaned? Was she a bastard child?

Her life story takes the reader through her childhood and adult life until the age of 64. A graphic account is given of her struggles in an apartheid era and the lack of freedom and peace. This autobiography poses many unanswered questions and becomes a means of solving the mystery of an unknown identity.

Chaper 1

Where it All Started

Chaper 2

Introduction

This is the heartbreaking story of my life. I grew up not knowing who I was. Without a mother, father, siblings or cousins, I had no one I could speak to or play with. The person who reared me was an old black lady whom I understood to be my grandmother. I addressed her as Umaa. She was a warm, loving and caring person with one eye and paralysed down her left side. Although she took me in and provided a home for as long as she could, I was unable to get any answers regarding where I came from and who I really was.

Now at the age of 58 I have my own family comprising my husband, three daughters and a son. Our three daughters are aged 40, 37 and 35 and our son is 27. I am inclined to become extremely emotional when I recall my childhood. Only now do I realise how tragic my early life was and memories of loneliness and hunger often flood my cheeks with tears. These are things I have never shared with anyone, not even my own children. As a child, I never realised that I was missing out on so much - the beautiful and selfless bond of motherly love that God created. I never got to experience such intense emotions. A mother’s love is irreplaceable and nothing can ever compare with that special bond. Loneliness and sadness was my portion for as long as I could remember.

Now that I have children of my own and experienced how I feel towards them, I realise how much I have been denied. The unconditional love, the hugs and kisses, wiping away tears and words of encouragement coupled with a hug and kiss – these I sorely lacked! There was no mother to watch me grow, be excited about my first tooth or lovingly help me take my first step.

A mother should never abandon her child as I was. Even now at this age I have questions that can never be answered. If Umaa was my grandmother as I understood, then my biological mother whom I have never seen, left me with Umaa and never returned to see or care for me in any way. This raises the burning question, Was she really my mother?

Who is my biological mother? Umaa, the old lady who took me in, told me that my mother is somewhere in the city. I have never seen a photo or any mail from her. Neither was I sent to her at any time. Sadly, I did not even know in which city she lived.

Although I lacked the love and care of a normal family, the only one I could embrace as my own was this woman, my Umaa. Amazingly, at the time I never realised that I was missing out on motherly love. Only now that I