the power of a grandmother

Naturally, my grades dipped because, obviously, interior decorating and virtual romance became priorities. I’ll never forget hearing my grandmother tear him a new one over the phone. I was scared for him… but also deeply entertained. I mean, here was this full-grown man still getting disciplined by his mother like he was 12. 

It’s one of many memories that still makes me laugh but also reminds me of how fiercely invested she was in our education, our growth and our future. She wasn’t just giving us tools; she was giving us a head start. And she wasn’t afraid to hold even the grown-ups accountable when we got distracted from the bigger picture. 

Each of my siblings — Nina, Mia, Uviwe and Sikhulule — has in some way or another had our grandmother as a primary caregiver. She was the constant thread in our early upbringing, the anchor in the chaos, and the soft place to land. 

Today, my brother Sikhulule graduates with his Honours degree. I am eternally proud of you, Gcwanini. And I cannot imagine this day being possible had it not been for Granny’s unwavering love — her arms always open, her words always affirming, her love often so overflowing it came out in song. 

She had a special song for each of us as toddlers. But with the spotlight firmly on him today, I’ll share this one of hers for Gcwanini: 

“Ndiyakuthanda Gcwanini, ndiyakuthanda, mina uMadlamini” (“I love you, Gcwanini, I love you, my Madlamini”). 

That was her: fierce, funny, nurturing, and utterly unforgettable. 

She fed us, raised us, sang for us, and demanded we show up fully — whether at school, in life, or at the dinner table. And even in her widowhood, she never let her grief silence her authority, nor diminish her love. 

So today, I celebrate her. The matriarch who built us from strength, spoonfuls of porridge, soulful lullabies and long-distance scoldings. 

A belated Happy Mother’s Day to all the Grandmatriarchs. Your love outlives you. Your legacy lives through us.