My sister and I did not grow up together. The passing of our parents resulted in us being separated. It was not our choice, she was taken by an aunt and as for me I was a basketball or a tennis ball rather. I was here, there and everywhere. Either way we were not together. It hurt.

I knew I had a sister but she was not with me. Then my uncle united us, I was happy but it didn’t last long. She left when she was 15, again I was separated from my sister. This time I had no idea where exactly she was, if she was ok, if her plan had worked out. All I hoped was that she was happier wherever she was because she would always cry.

Year’s later we started talking again, over the phone. She visited here and there and I also got to visit. We had gone through different life experiences that had moulded us into different people. The bond we were meant to have had long sailed away. We love each other so much, but truth being told we don’t know each other.

I hope that paints a picture for you of what his meant for us living together. It was one of the hardest things ever. I tried my very best and so did she but we constantly clashed. I’m the quiet one who doesn’t really have a voice when I’m hurt I keep to myself and try to pray it off. I find hope in the situation even when there is none.

From time to time I regretted my decision to move. My plan was not working out. I was not getting a job. My smartphone died. I was my sister’s nanny and it drove me crazy because already I was getting depressed by the day. When I did work it was to cover for her at her workplace and that was it. I applied for jobs and nothing was coming together. I hated my reality, I had to ask for money, I had been independent for so long it was hard.

My heart broke, X was there. He would call to comfort me when I was down. He encouraged me to pray and trust God. I was too angry and bitter to trust God every day, I trusted him when I wanted to. I didn’t understand how this was his plan when all it brought was so much pain. It was worse cause I had not found a church close by to worship at, so I just drowned. The care from X clouded my judgement, I saw the signs but I took them down.

It felt better to have someone who seemed to understand than to have no one at all. I started to tell myself that it was meant to be, it was not a mistake that I was in South Africa at the time. So, here began the journey.