My Mama was a teacher of what was once called domestic science. She had qualified as a teacher with this specialisation at Lovedale College in the then Cape Province, after completing her matric at Inanda Girls’ Seminary in the 1940s. Her name was Glenrose Nomvula Mbatha. Born in 1929, she died in 2011.

My Mama's Mama (Gogo) died when Mama was only eight years old. Mama told me a story about my Gogo's death that has stayed with me over the years. After the funeral, Mama's father, Alban Hamilton S. Mbatha, also a teacher, whom we called Mkhulu, sat all four of his daughters down and told them: I promise never to get married until you are all grown up and capable of looking after yourselves. They were living in a homestead in Magogo, not far from Nquthu, in the province then known as Natal. Their grandmother also looked after them for some years, until my Mkhulu decided to leave South Africa in 1942, as the rumours of that time were that the National Party would, soon enough, take over completely. He moved his family to Hlatikhulu, Swaziland, and he honoured his word.

The reason I have never forgotten this story is because of how Mama told it, and she told it a good few times. Her smile covered her whole face and pride shone through like stars in the night sky. My Mkhulu's message was loud and unequivocal. He went against the often-accepted societal norm of men replacing wives before their bones were exposed in their graves.

I have also never forgotten this story because most of what Mama told me about her father suggested to me that Mkhulu was a feminist, especially in his beliefs about equality between women and men, as well as how he chose to take full responsibility for his children after his wife's death. He did not rush to find a woman to mother his four girls. I have often wondered, because I never asked, which specific lessons Mama learned from Mkhulu and which ones she learned from her Gogo before they emigrated to Swaziland.