Thank You, Poverty

By Sifiso Tsoman Ndlovu

The author was just like many children who grew up with nothing and felt that the world was against them.

Hearing hurtful words like: “You will be nothing in life” made him realise how cruel the world could be. But in response, he kept these powerful words in mind:

HOPE
DETERMINATION
A WILL TO SUCCEED

Life does not owe you an apology for being poor, undermined and being a nobody. It is your willingness to change your negative situation into a positive one that will change your life. Being born poor is not your mistake, but dying poor is your mistake, because you have failed to take responsibility for your own life.

Every book has a cover, but what is a lot more important is the message written inside. Likewise, one’s outward appearance and circumstances, does not define the real person. Rather, it is the inner part that defines the real value of a person hidden inside.

About the Author

Sifiso Tsoman Ndlovu was born and bred in Pongola, northern Kwazulu-Natal. He is the second born from five siblings. He works at the traffic department as a traffic control operator & traffic data capturer under the uPhongolo municipality. He is an author, motivational speaker and a poet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sifiso Tsoman Ndlovu
• Release date: Aug 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463568385

Book preview

Thank You,

Poverty

I Have a Diploma in Poverty,

A Degree in Sufferings

and a Masters in Hardships

Sifiso Tsoman Ndlovu

Copyright © 2019 Sifiso Tsoman Ndlovu

Published by Sifiso Tsoman Ndlovu Publishing at Smashwords

First edition 2019

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 Sifiso Tsoman Ndlovu using Reach Publishers’ services,

P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631

Edited by Susan Hall for Reach Publishers

Cover designed by Reach Publishers

Website: www.reachpublishers.co.za

E-mail: [e-mail]

Sifiso Tsoman Ndlovu

[e-mail]

Table of Contents

1. Born Before I Was Born

2. On Attempting Suicide

3. Learning The Values Of Life From My Mother

4. On Hoping to be a Soccer Star

5. The Reality of Life

6. Turning to God

7. The Day That Changed My Life for the Better

8. On Trying a Business

9. On Paying Lobola

10. On Losing my Brother (Lungisane)

11. On Looking for my Father

12. On Being Hired by Uphongolo Municipality

13. On Nearly Becoming a Police Officer

14. I Have a Diploma in Poverty, a Degree in Suffering and a Masters in Hardship (I Have Every Qualification to be the Best in Life).

15. Flourishing in the World of Hardships

16. Darkness of a Human Being

17. Be Motivated by Your Background

18. A Dog Versus a Human Being

19. Humanity Versus a Human Being

20. Strive to Leave a Legacy

21. The Day I Proposed to my Fiancée

Chapter One

Born Before I Was Born

My First Day on Earth, Welcome to the World

It is normal for a child to cry after they are born, and I was no exception. I also cried when my mother gave birth to me. Why? A wise man once said: The reason a child cries after they are born is because of the cruelty of the world we are living in and the journey ahead. On the 7th of May 1986 I was born to Ntombikhona Goodness Mnyezima. First of all, let me applaud my mother for not aborting me despite so many challenges she was facing. For nine months she kept me in her womb not knowing how she was going to take care of me when she gave birth to me. Remember, she was not working, and her parents were working at the sugar cane skorm (Skorm is place where people who are working at the sugar cane plantations stay.) She made a living by selling blomepotties to people who wanted to decorate their homes. It was 21:50 pm when my mother gave birth to me, as the second of five children at Baragwanath Hospital.

After giving birth to me, my mother gave me the name Sifiso.

Why? I asked her when I was old enough.

All she could tell me was: My son, it was our dream to have another boy, so that is why we named you Sifiso.

Even though I was confused by her answer, I kept quiet. Life was tough as we did not have a place to call home, as we were squatting in a back room my mother was renting in Pongola (Ncotshane Township). But despite all these challenges, we never went to bed with an empty stomach nor did my mother abandon us as some parents would have done. With all that struggle, even though I was young, I saw what was happening and I kept asking myself: Where is my father? I was told that the person I used to call my father was in fact not my real father and he died a few years later. I must confess that he did play the role of father even though he was not present most of the time as he was a soldier. I remember whenever he came back from work, we would be so happy, knowing that he was going to bring us some nice things from work.

My mother managed to buy a piece of land that had a shack on it, and she built a two-room house there. Finally, we had a place we could call home. As a child you don’t care about anything as long as you have something to eat. I first attended school at Magadlela HP School from the age of six. After that I went to kwaNkabinde Primary in Pietermaritzburg. After that I came back to Pongola and went to Simandlangentsha HP School and I completed my matric at Dwaleni High School. At home we were not a well-off family but my mother did everything she could to provide for us. Although you don’t care about what is going on as a child, you notice everything.

Chapter Two

On Attempting Suicide

In 1994 I went to stay with my stepfather’s family in Pietermaritzburg as they wanted someone to look after their cattle. When I was young, I used to hear the name Maritzburg and thought, Wow, what a beautiful place compared to where we stay in the small town of Pongola. I didn’t know that I was putting myself into a terrible situation – a situation that no one could bear to live in. Every morning before going to school I had to take out the cattle, bath my aunt’s young child and sometimes walk her to school before I went to my school myself. In the afternoon I had to make sure that I collected all the cattle even if they were far astray, and to chop wood every day even if it was cold or raining. I remember one day it was snowing and I had to wait for the bakery for almost 45 minutes as they were selling bread at home. I almost died that day. Every child has to do chores at home, but in my case the chores were worse than those of the other children in the area. Was it because the adults I was living with were not my parents? Was it because my mother was not there? Those were the questions I often asked myself.

The only chance I would get to play soccer like other children was when they had sent me to buy something from the shops, as I was not allowed to go without asking permission. Sometimes I would play until it became late and then I became very scared to go back home as I knew that I would get a real beating. One day I found a bottle of doom and I drank the whole bottle trying to kill myself, and I thought of taking my own life on many occasions. I remember one day I packed