Faith Unfolded

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There was a time when my mother was very sick. They took her to the hospital where she spent a whole month. After that month, the doctors decided to discharge her because she was a bit better. My aunt and grandmother took her home, but after a few days, her condition became worse. No treatment seemed to work for her.

At that time, I was in a rural area attending school. One day, my grandmother spoke to me on the phone, telling me that my mother wanted to see me. The next morning, I took an early bus to town where my mother was. I arrived in the afternoon. When I saw her, I cried because she had lost so much weight; she was really thin, and I was even scared to touch her. My grandmother asked me if I wanted to sleep with her on the bed since my mother had requested it, but I was too afraid and said no.

The following morning, my mother told me something I will never forget. She said, “Sego, my daughter, I know you are in your teenage stage. Please take care of yourself and do not get pregnant, because there will be no one to take care of your child. I am going.” I did not understand what she was saying because I was still young. When I asked her to explain, she told me directly that she was dying and only had a few days left. I thought she was just joking since she often joked with us.

When school opened, I had to go back to the rural area, but my heart was troubled. Every day I prayed and asked God to heal my mother. I was in Grade 6 at the time. I sometimes cried secretly, asking myself what would happen to my brother and me if she passed away.

A month passed, and one day, while we were playing at our neighbor’s house, we saw people going to our home and sweeping. Deep down, I knew what was happening, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. To my surprise, my younger brother, who was in Grade 3, pointed to our house and said, “Sego, I know what is going on.” I wondered how he knew. I wanted to cry, but I held back my tears because I felt I needed to be strong for both of us.

As we watched people sweeping the yard, some cars drove straight to our home. A few minutes later, a lady came and called us over. She took us to a house where my grandmother and some other women were sitting. My grandmother looked at us and told us the heartbreaking news. My brother’s cry hit me deeply, but I still did not cry. I told my grandmother, “It’s okay,” then I went to the back of the house and prayed, asking, “God, why us?”

From then on, I cried every day, asking God questions: “Why did You do this? God, we are still so young. Who will take care of us? God, are we going to be safe? Look at my brother, he is so small.” I cried a lot, but I did not want people to see me crying.

The night before the funeral, during the night of comfort, I sang a Tswana song called O Tshepehe Thapelo, which means “Trust in Prayer.” I sang that song while crying. The following day, we laid my mother to her final rest.

From that time, I started going to church and paying close attention to the teachings. I often heard the pastor saying, “God heals, restores, and saves.” I became deeply interested in knowing this God. I prayed often, asking Him to heal my heart and my brother’s heart. Little did I know that this was the beginning of my faith journey.…