The Journey To Sesmylspruit

Life might be a journey, but that journey has to end somewhere. In this moving tribute to his beloved wife Rina, Willie Kuperus describes their retirement years in Ramsgate on the KZN South Coast, and the road to his final home in Pretoria.

- Willie Kuperus

The movers would arrive on Monday to pack up. They’d load the truck on Tuesday and depart on Wednesday.

The curtains had been taken down and the windows stared at me like the milky eyes of the blind. The ornaments were wrapped up and the furniture was ready to go. Rina had worked so hard to make our house a home. Now it felt as if someone had defaced her beautiful artwork with wide strokes of black paint. Her artwork had been destroyed in a single morning, and it would never be restored.

I cried. I didn’t sob, but my eyes brimmed with tears that spilled and rolled down my cheeks. I took my kierie and walked out the front door, for the last time.

The neighbours

The only other Afrikaans-speaking people in Hythe Street, Ramsgate, were our neighbours. We didn’t have much to do with them except to wave when we passed each other in the street. But when the man noticed the moving truck in front of my gate, he came over to say goodbye.

When we moved here in 2003, a Belgian man lived in the next house along. Rina and I usually went for a late-afternoon walk to the corner of our street and back. We met the Belgian on one such walk – Rina, who was always friendly, introduced us and made small talk.

The Belgian man passed away suddenly and new people moved into that house: a big man, a big woman, a BMW and four dogs that barked incessantly when we walked past. Maybe the man and his wife worked in radiology because they could both look right through you and not say hello.