Debbie Levy 1964

 

My first memories are linked to Debby Levy. 

I was three and a half and she was four and we lived in Frankenwald,the Wits soil station. She lived at the bottom of the road and I lived half way up the road in a small brickhouse - smaller than hers. And we used to play together. We played together because our parents were friends. Norman Levy was Debbie Levy's dad and Phillipa was her Mom and Norman and Mom were both about to be sent to jail. When the Sharpville Massacre happened Mom was so infuriated that she phoned the Congress of Democrats, the white arm of the ANC, and said:

I want to join.

And Norman, aware that the phones were tapped, said nervously, 

Alright, alright, but come round and talk, not over the phone.

And so Mom and Dad joined the ANC and Norman was the treasurer, I think - he'll set me right if I make a mistake I hope - and Mom became the secretary. Norman went to Jail for many years after the treason trial.

I remember Mom was there for Christmas waiting for trial and the twins got a train set and I forget what I got, I was so jealous. 

I used to go out of the window and go to a neighbour's house and she was an older lady and she was very kind and I felt appreciated there. 

Then I remember playing with Debbie. We were similar and I think this is why I do remember liking her. She was a little older and I felt softer and younger. She took me to see her friend, a little girl who was even older than we were. Her name, apparently, was Debbie Green. and we snuggled under a blanket and pretended to be sick while Debbie Green gave us medicine she mixed up from leaves and mud and we pretended to take it. I can still feel our warmth under the blanket.

Mom was no longer there. I was being bathed by my nurse and her hand went between my legs in the bath. She was with a friend and they both laughed unpleasantly, an adult laughter, because I must have got an erection. Large black women. I felt ashamed and then said. 

Carry me, carry me. 

But we'll have to dress you. one woman said knowingly.

Don't dress me just carry me on your back.

And so she did and I pressed my naked body to her big back and then I felt terribly ashamed and asked to be put down and ran down the road to find my father and brothers. I ran down to the Levy's house. It looked derelict. The grass was long and the paint was peeling and I called but no one was there. The house felt empty, as if they were gone. My world was darkening.

I ran back up the hill. I couldn't find my father and brothers and started crying. I felt abandoned and ashamed. When I did find my father I was happy to see him but he didn't seem to understand how upset I was and I didn't have the words to explain.

It was an awakening, of sorts. For years as a child in Kenya I would imagine large women looking down at me naked and laughing sarcastically and it would arouse me and sadden me.

My other memory of Frankenwald was of a white dress and a loving presence that made me feel completely happy. I didn't know it at the time, but it was my aunt Joan Mary, Dad's younger sister.