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Through my eyes

Through my eyes

Author: Kasia Yoko
Date: 2018-03-30

From whenever I can remember, my mother always spoke about the importance of culture and tradition. It truly is such an important aspect of most of our lives. It is even more relevant to migrants, people who were forced out of their homelands, people who abandoned their countries in search of "the promised land".

We were such people, Political refugees, migrants. We left everything we had and escaped in the middle of the night, running away from the social and political unrest, which was about to explode in our birth country.

As we crossed the border, my father parked his car on top of the hill pointed towards the green gables and said to us, "Take a good look." Turning to my brother and I, "This is where you come from, don't ever forget where you come from." Standing besides us was my mother sobbing uncontrollably, chanting "God lead us" repeatedly over and over.

Don't get me wrong, we do not come from any special stock or class. My parents are however highly educated and hardworking individuals, who worked their butts off to save enough money to escape the bleak futures we were facing as a nation.

This week I found my eyes welling with tears; it was something about the coming of age ceremony I was attending that opened up the waterworks. The devotion shown by the mother and grandmother to their girl child at her coming of age ceremony was truly touching.

Dressed like a Maharaja princess, Inam looked the picture of beauty and reverence while her mother Pria showered her with flower petals and gifts. It was such a divine gesture from the mother to the daughter and so beautiful that Pria has held onto this tradition in this fast passed and fast changing world.

The ritual of the coming of age ceremony is fascinating and you should read up about it, what makes it truly special is that its origins are deeply rooted in South India and through perseverance, they are practiced here by in Durban.

Seeing my mom this weekend, teaching my sons how to make pierogi, traditional Polish dumplings, was so emotional for me. Her desire to pass this tradition over is so strong and humbling, it fills my heart with such joy to see my children willing to accept our culture and our customs.

I wonder in silence if my sons will pass this onto their children or maybe that will be my duty

Here is a salute to our rich and colourful heritage, our brave and honourable ancestors and our prosperous and fruitful futures.