While the vultures circled, both my parents passed away
For those who have suffered personal loss, reports of Covid corruption are deeply painful, writes Sam Mkokeli
I cannot hide my conflict and my anger. Both my parents died in December last year due to Covid. The image of my mother's body at the morgue haunts me every single day. It inspires me too, as though to send a message: Carry on, my son.
I carry on, lifted by her trademark resilience and her "turn the other cheek, my son" philosophy, which was deeply rooted in her faith and upbringing in apartheid SA. Her parents named her Nomonde, and Patience. Patience means the same as Nomonde. Apparently the message had to be reinforced by calling her the same thing twice...