#Butterworth - #LebogangKTlou

Born somewhere on a kraal
near Butterworth, she was
poorly and lowly in stature.

#ButHerWorth was always divine.

By her breast she fed three babs.
By her sweat she raised them.
Through teary eyes she watched
each succumb to the weight
of the world.

They were black.
They were poor.
They were lowly in stature.

She was their mother, they her heart.

Somewhere on a kraal near a place called #Butterworth.

But her worth is immeasurable, the first child thought. One night in a cell, he lay on a filthy mattress and sobbed as he recalled his mother's sorrow when he called to tell her his fate.

He felt she deserved better.

But her worth is in her ability to see only the perfection in her children's eyes.

He died that night in that cell. A nose. A snap.

But her worth in him remained divine.

Her divinity coursed through the veins of her second heir; a daughter. She grew to be fair and true to the Lord. Her only flaw was that she felt she was not ready. She bore a child with a brute, crude and wild, and all at once she was dead.

He saw papa kill Mama.
He lied.
He cried.

Her worth was divine. Her worth was divine.

Now, a grandmother to an orphan, Mama in the grave, papa in the cells... Life sentences. She lived on a kraal near Butterworth, where she swept and toiled and wept and boiled as her mother did before her, as her grandmother had done in her day, and as she knew her remaining daughter would do in a year.

Matric was nearly over.

There was no money.
This was it.

She prayed for baas to see how good this child is, and help send her to a good university. God heard.

Baas believed.

Basetsana (baasie) was divine, as her mother was before her. She went to University. She got her degree. She lives on a kraal somewhere near Butterworth. She knows how to make magic with numbers, so she balances Baas's books. His farm flourishes.

Together we stand. Together we rise.

Hare Krsna.