Holding my breath

Dear Mama, It is me, your broken son. Although the earth’s sorrows dimmed your light from us, I trust heaven has bestowed upon you the glory and dignity you deserve. You and I last spoke in February 2005, five days before you passed away. When you succumbed to your illness – which remains a mystery to this day – I was a mere 13-year-old who not only had to adjust to a new school, but also get used to the reality that you would never live to tell intriguing tales of your childhood. A decade has since passed and as I write you this note I have only heard from you once. You appeared in a dream to reprimand us for the culture of begging which we had adopted shortly after we laid you to your final rest. This is how Ace Moloi starts his book, a letter to his deceased mother. This book, this letter, is an important and necessary look at the state of our country 21 years into our democracy. It is the story of constantly holding your breath, hoping nothing else goes wrong. In a searing and beautiful narrative, Moloi manages to take the reader through various South African issues like: The trials of child-headed families in South Africa; The volatile issue of service delivery in townships; The story of broken families; Why Fees must Fall; Racial division in universities Funny in parts and tragic in others, this is the ultimate South African story.