MY SILVER LINING

The hour is late, and quiet descends on the small block of flats in which we live as families one by one turn in for the night, after a busy and eventful week. The corridors do not ring out with the laughter and cries of small children as they run after one another in play. In their world, for the majority anyway, they are carefree and happy. They interrups their busy schedules often to visit me while I carry on with household chores, smiling, grubby little faces of all races, all friends and not seeing beyond that. They always want an apple, they know I ALWAYS have apples in the fridge! They shriek with delight as Bokkie the parrot shrieks at them for intruding into HER domain (everything is hers remember) the noise rises as they all try to outdo one another. At this point I cannot but imagine what my mother, who has VERY sensitive hearing would make of this crazy world I live in! The children - they would delight her, but the BIRD, I fear she would smother as we are all tempted to do at one time or another.

People here come from many different walks of life and working mothers are dependant upon other mothers as childcare is way outside their earning capacities. Most of them pull together in these difficult time and help where they can.

It takes me back to a time many years ago when we were living in a war torn country and starting young families. Most, if not all of the men, were called most of the time.

We were living in Salisbury in our first home which was in a young community, and for 5 years, as our children were born, grew and were added onto, we found outselves more often than not on our own, and we too pulled together in a way I have not seen women who live in times of peace pull together.

It was an unspoken arrangement that at 4.00pm ON THE DOT everyday someone would start to stroll around the block with a baby in pram and probably a toddler on a tricycle. As she proceeded, others joined in until we were a huge group of young moms, babies and toddlers, leaving our lonliness at home, laughing, reigning in wayward toddlers. Fractious babies enjoyed the walk in the prams out in the open.

We would then decide which home we would stop and have tea at before disbanding and going our separate ways to bath, feed and bed tired but happy children.

Over the years our little group grew in size and numbers. For just l hour of every afternoon we were not worrying about the safety of absent fathers, being a 'bush widow' and facing parenthood alone wasn't quite so daunting.

That was the silver lining of my life for 5 years. I will always cherish them.

After emigrating to South Africa I found that I could live in a neighbourhood for 3 years and not even know my neighbours name, so busy were they with their lives. In fact, I never got to know what they looked like even as everyone had 6 foot walls around their houses.

My son was born at this time and I made sure that he too had his afternoon walks around the block in the late afternoons. But we did it alone.