Annie lived in a little flat at the back of our house called a Kaya and I spent many days with her in her room where she would tell me stories and cook me samp and beans (traditional African food). Now looking back on that time in my life, one of my most vivid memories was when I was about 7 years old sitting on the floor in Annie’s Kaya. She pulled out a wooden box from under her bed and opened it carefully. I recall her eyes being filled with emotion and I knew even at that tender age that this was something very important to her. She pulled out a package which was wrapped in newspaper and tied with a white ribbon and I watched as she carefully unwrapped it. Inside was the most beautiful beaded necklace I had ever laid eyes on. Annie carefully placed the precious necklace on the mat we were sitting on and began telling me her story.
She told me she wore this necklace on her wedding day, it had taken her 9 months to make and each bead represented the love she felt for her husband; she had written him a poem out of beads. She had known from the moment she saw him that she had found her indoda (husband) and the day they married was the best day of her life. She recalled every moment and tears welled up in her eyes. I asked her, “why are you sad umngane (my friend)?” She told me she was sad because she missed her husband, he died shortly after they were married and although it was a long time ago now, he was always in her heart. She carried this necklace with her wherever she went to remind her of the love she once had.
The necklace Annie made was called an Isihlahla and is usually dismantled after the wedding however Annie never allowed that to happen, perhaps she knew deep inside how important it would become to her. This was my first introduction to beadwork and is where my love for beading began.
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| Annie, my mum, brother and me (this image is under full copyright) |
