Works in progress

GROWING UP IN LOBATSE (the house in my home)

We played house as kids. We took on roles, anticipating growing up. Wishing to have cars, have houses, grown up clothes. There was an iron structure which we would pretend to be a car, where we would ride to drop of our kids at school and buy food from the store. We wore our mothers big shoes, they made sounds as I feet could barely fit into them. Our faces were made up, had  powder, we looked like ghosts. Sometimes clowns because our faces were highly made up. We put on lipstick on our lips, and some of it was ingested, unintentionally. Our fingers were painted instead of nails. We took food from our kitchens to cook for our families. We had no utensils liked to the ones in out homes. There were tins and we ate on leaves. Our yards were kept clean and we had bricks for seats. It was no big deal. We were mothers, sisters, fathers and brothers. We were a family, behind our home

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