His crimes are never openly spoken about around us the children. He is out and back in again, another crime. We become a family that loves the brother because we do not know the gangster we refuse to accept that the two are both found in one person. We pray for protection for him in that ugly place that keeps people who do ugly things.
Prayers are different, now laments are made for a son and a brother in prison. Our denial is short-lived because there are things called confessions and evidence. The pain not only finding ways to destroy us but ultimately finding ways to define us. We find out everything we thought we knew, we really didn’t know. This life changer doesn’t knock and ask for permission but we find it tattooing itself on our skin, marking us as the bruised of this person called our brother. We are not ready for how our lives are about to change, how this is going to be part of our story. He must be covering for one of his friends. He is still responsible for all chores and does them all without complaining.īut now he is also a criminal and he is arrested for the first time. He still holds my hand tight when I cross the road. He hides his secret well as he lives his double life. We never know because not even a cent has ever been stolen by him in our home. He sees his single mom and siblings struggling, the nights without supper and the lunch breaks his younger brother has to go without food. He is getting too old for cricket and the modelling doesn’t seem to be going as well as expected. We are proud of him but that is not enough to take him to university. He is beautiful and agents love his smile. I remember a false birth certificate being made because he was getting too old for his U18 team. I remember the white man mentoring him in this sport. I am told for the town games they wear real cricket kit like our national team on television but the white man keeps it so I never see it. He is so good at cricket and well known around the townships, he plays with his friends in front of our yard every day and sometimes I am told he plays in big grassy fields in town. He is known as respectful and having a gentle heart. He talks with a smile and always makes us laugh. On cold and rainy days my older brother lets us play inside the house. Our days are filled with games but only in the yard because we are told the streets are not safe.
#I am gangster movie how to#
He teaches me how to do it, he admires my curious mind.
Bread is expensive so he has to make rooster bread for us so we can have something to eat. He is now responsible for looking after all of us during the day while my granny is at work. My older brother is always there but not so much of his naughty games. The next holiday visit is spent at a new home address our uncle has bought my granny a house. Many years later I will realise this place has my only happy memories as a child my childhood heart forever cherishing how it felt to be part of that family and even though it was a time and place where the apartheid riots and violence was so rife and on a high, the only thing I remember is that sweet smile and the love and safety I felt in that rain wet shack. I visit often even though it is so far away. I find out the brother is my cousin and my other mother, my grandmother. I will now have a dad but only sisters this time. My real mother is no longer in her teens and has married. I am told I have to move away, to my new home. We know his shoulder is not sweet but we suck on it anyway, he laughs because he knows we will do whatever he says. He is naughty and plays all sorts of crazy games with us. He is my older brother, he smiles at me so sweetly.