When Cobie left, that was when everything in my life really started falling apart. My brother’s are nowhere near me, Broeks is in America, Jakes is back in England and I’m here with my mom and 2 sisters. Suddenly I wanted to be a child again, to get back the years I lost when I was a boy. I have lost the love of my life and child like emotions flooded me daily which I acted on and I grew an unhealthy attachment to my mom. I wanted all her love and became controlling, I stayed in her house and refused to leave, I wanted her to care for me like a child but still let me do what I want as a grown up. I took absolutely no responsibility for my life. I drank and fought with my sisters and mother constantly. I hardly worked and slept all day. I in fact became mentally ill at that point, I know it now, Mum saw that her son was really not well and offered numerous times to get me to a psychologist.
I refused help because of pride. I admitted that I had a problem, but too stubborn to go to someone who can help me. It was not just pride that kept me from getting help. I knew how expensive counselors were and I knew the extend of my problems too, one or too sessions was not going to cut it and there is no way my mom can afford a long treatment program. I also did not believe that I would get better with therapy and so I never accepted it and just carried on, hoping things will just come right by itself. Trust me I would have loved nothing more than to be diagnosed with a serious mental disorder so that I can finally blame my behavior on something and that I don’t have to take responsibility for my actions. ‘Doc tells me I’m mentally ill, so yes I can’t help it’ I can now hide behind the illness. So I continued my downward spiral without professional help. I wanted and somewhat demanded authority over my younger sisters and mom. Since there is no man in the house I wanted to control their lives, you must all listen to me now, I’m the man and I demand respect. I was met with fierce resistance and couldn’t control them.
The four women Mum, Anna, Poppie and CC ( Poppie’s girlfriend) formed a coalition and stood firm against my barrage of insults and violent outburst for control. I still slept most day’s away, manipulated my mom and threw aggressive tantrums for money to go out and get drunk. Demanded her only car to drive around without a license. Sometimes I’d ask her to drop me off at the bar and said I’ll find my own way home, also called her to fetch me when no one wanted to give me a ride. About two years ago I asked mum if she ever got scared of me when I used to come home drunk and mean spirited, she said ‘yes Mannie, I was scared, you had the same look in your eyes your father had when he was full of liquor and would beat me’ That killed me when she said it. It was not all bad the way I make it out to be, however, there was always some tension when I’m around, and when I start drinking, the women grouped together and prepared in advance for what could happen. One wrong word and it’s war. The night terrors never ceased, every night I woke up screaming and running around like a mad thing. I just didn’t sleep. I slept next to my mom sometimes even though I had my own bed because I was scared of night terrors and her presence was a comfort.
By then women really infuriated me, their rejection enraged me. Their curves and charms played me like the piper, trance like I would dance to their tune, utterly enchanted, until they’d reject me for some other punk. When a women did that, I lost it completely. I wanted to grab her by the hair and slap her so hard and say “listen here you little wh.re, you like having power over me like that ey, you like playing games with me and make a fool out of me, I’ll show you power’ but I never did anything, I exploded inwardly and became bitter and hostile. My ego was all I had and when a woman bruised it I got angry. Though rejection still hurts, you never really get used to it, now I just take it on the chin, find an outlet if there’s anger and carry on. I had unhealthy sexual relations with men and women and picked up a mild STD, I think at one stage I hated the opposite sex. In fact I hated almost everyone. I have always been jealous of other guys who always seem to get all the girls. I did not see myself as attractive at all and developed an eating disorder that left me skinny and frail. If I passed out at a party I woke up with more clothes on. People started disliking me and I was avoided.
Went with dad on the truck again. This time was different, this particular company he was at had an agreement with their drivers: you drive the truck for a number of years, it was either 3 or 5 and then the truck is yours to keep after that time. So when dad came to the end of this agreement, the company fired him or something happened and they didn’t give him his truck. So he went to the big bosses and tried to solve this whole thing. Dad was always fighting with the rich people of this world because they somehow wronged him. Its always him against the world and then we have to listen for hours, days and weeks about how unfair everything is and then it always reverts back to my mother and the old days and so it carries on.
While all this was happening we stayed at his colored friend that he met in prison and was now living in kersie dorp (little candle town) in a suburb outside of Johannesburg. The whole family plus dad and I slept in one bedroom. Us on the single bed and his friend, wife and kids on a large double bed. We drank a lot of rum and talked and sometimes argued. One night we heard that a guy stabbed his cousin few houses down and I went to see if I can help. When I got there the guy was lying on the floor, crying out ‘help me help me’ while his guts was hanging on the floor and blood everywhere. The medics eventually came and I help them set up a drip and they took him away. Can’t remember if he made it or not. This was a wild place and things heated up faster than a junkie spoon. Stayed there for about a month maybe more and then we left. I can’t remember so well what happened but dad never got his truck and I went home.
My crying continued and turned into a mournful howl whenever I’m alone. Whenever I had the car I’d drive home at three in the morning intoxicated, stop in the middle of the road winding down into the valley, with the full moon laying low in the sky, I’d lie in the road and just cry, for my brothers, for my mom and for my sisters, even for CC, I cried out for them all, bellowing like a wounded bull under that starry sky. I missed my ex so much and it left me in a sorrowful state, I was groaning with hurt and pain daily. She was my first and only love I ever had, and I lost her because I was a deadbeat boyfriend who lived in a dream world free from work and responsibility. I treated her like dirt, I cheated and lied, I had violent outburst of extreme anger towards her because of mayor insecurities. I never physically harmed her but I could manipulate and hurt her deeply, every time she cried or I managed to break her heart in some way I felt powerful and also I could see how much she loved me. Why I had to torment her so just to feel loved, I don’t know. It’s immature and tactless, yet it’s the only card I could play. I could not take her on with words and wits but I can break her image down or withhold affection, playing helpless victim of circumstance, that I could do and it got to her and I used it at expert level until she cracks and I regained power. I wanted to feel loved by all women I played the game like a guitar. Poor little Mannie, he’s just sad and lonely and wants some love, lets dote on him a bit. It was a classic case of transference, I treated all women like they are my girlfriend and I must hurt or play on their feelings and be the victim to get affection and gauge how much they care for me. Guy’s wanted to kill me because I made moves on their girlfriend’s.
I was trapped in this, frankly it was down right pathetic, but I had an illness and needed serious help.
As for work, well when I got back from UK I worked for a security company installing alarm systems, stayed there for a year and hardly ever went to work on Mondays because of a hangover ‘sorry boss, can’t make it to work today, some bug has me again’ yes every Monday I had a different bug. I was still staying in my mom’s apartment at the time. I then got fed up one day and quit, few weeks later left for an anti poaching “course” in Hoedspruit on the other side of the country, biggest scam and exploitation of the poor ever. Gets my blood boiling just thinking about it, anyway, got chased by elephants and slept under trees at night in the African bush with lions and hyena roaming around. My constant drinking became a problem at work and I then picked up trouble with the locals. I buckled one of their favorites in a one on one brawl and he wanted revenge, I then fled back home to my mother because the townsman were hunting for me to beat me up. Being back home I continued to drink and smoke and fight, got banned from bars and people despised me because of my challenging attitude and parasitic behavior. Hardly ever had enough money for drink and would trade you, a weeks loyalty and friendship for booze and cigarettes. I challenged every one and I treated women with disrespect because they are all just stupid anyway and only wanted money.
Then I worked at Munster ski boat club as a barman and stayed with Anna the youngest in her flat. She just finished school and worked in a surf bar across the river and at night when I finished my shift I would wait for her at the bar until she locked up and together we walked across the beach home. I felt good that I can protect her that way and our relationship strengthened. Anna then met her husband RS and after a year or so she left that job and moved back home with him. I also left my job and went and lived with Anna and RS at my moms place. I found a job at a liquor store and would get a lift in every morning. Due to my controlling quarrelsome nature and love for booze I became possessive over Anna, RS and I naturally picked up some problems. He is good to her and to me but I was mean to him and couldn’t fathom that my little sister is now grown up and that she found love and don’t need me as as much any more. RS took that role now and it tormented my soul that I was not needed by her to protect and be leaned on. RS undoubtedly got extremely upset with me and how he never struck me once, was a miracle.
I had deep psychological problems with Anna, Poppie, CC and Mum. I viewed them as objects to be owned at times. I was twisted in some ways during this stretch. I did and said things to people I am so ashamed of today that I don’t know where to hide my face and I wish to God that I could take it back. The patience and tolerance the family and their spouses had with me is unbelievable. All I ever was was a weak little scumbag, bottom feeding trash who thought the world and everybody in it owed me respect. I then found work at the surf bar and moved into an upstairs apartment on the property. Things were ok then but not great, working in a bar with drunk people all the time killed my spirit and I then stopped drinking for about a year. Some highlights of those days was the movie Blue Crush 2 was filmed on Glenmore beach and some scenes were filmed in the bar. I also worked as an extra on set and every night the crew would come and party. It was also the soccer world cup in 2010 hosted in South Africa and it was humming all the time. I had a brief romance for 3 weeks with this fiery brunette and ended very quickly. Dad also came and visited and bought me a nice reel for my birthday. We went fishing at night and talked.
I stayed at that job for about 2 years, worked at another bar and got fired, then my dad phoned one day. He had to appear in court in Baufort West, another little girl was involved. He basically needed some moral support and if things went left and he gets locked up then I have to take his car and drive it home. So I packed some things and left for Benoni where dad stayed with his sister. We had a nice time and watched movies and talked. The time then came to leave for Baufort West. Dad packed everything he had so if they locked him up then I was to take his stuff home. It’s a far drive to Baufort and all we did the whole drive was discuss the case. He showed me the case details on paper and argued this way and that way, said he has no idea who this little girl even was. So turns out that on my dad’s trucking route he would always stop in Baufort on his way to Cape Town and there he had colored friends. He met another couple there too, Uncle and Gois and their 4 children, who all stayed in a one bedroom one small kitchen place. No shower or bath just a toilet. This is where we stayed for the duration of the court appearances. We slept in the kitchen this on a single mattress.
Dad sometimes would lovingly put his arm around me when he slept and before he falls asleep would say ‘I love you’ I would smile and say I love you too dad, and I always meant it. I loved the old man, no matter what he did. Another strange thing happened. I was sitting one day and along came a woman with a little girl by her side. Gois focused on me and said ‘Mannie, who does this child look like’ I gazed at the little colored girl before me and said ‘ no, it can’t be’ she said ‘Mannie, it’s your dad’s child this, true’s’ I inspected the girl a little bit closer and when she smiled I knew it was his. She looked just like Poppie when she was small, the exact same smile and built. The mother then confirmed it, however there was another guy in her life the same time as dad but she knew it was dad’s. I mean you could see it. But you can never be sure until tests are done. We chatted a little while and I felt a sense of brotherly affection toward the little lady, feisty if I may add but sweet. They left and I saw them again once or twice but then stayed away. Dad obviously denied it and it didn’t bother me at all, he had other things to worry about
So the first court appearance came and stuff was said and then postponed. Since then it was all we talked about. We would get drunk on beer and rum and argue and we’d get highly upset with one another. Then its back to the old days, your mom this your mom that, hours on end. Then another back to court and postponed. Then they moved to the high court in Oudtshoorn, where all the ostriches are and that’s 2 hours drive through the Swartberg pass. Dad gathered his witnesses for his case and off we went, a truly sorry bunch of characters but that was his witnesses and they will testify his case with him. Back from court and straight to the bottle with sheep’s head and guts in a pot on the fire, dad’s favorite. Then back to arguing the case for hours till he eventually passes out. Then the money started dwindling and my dad’s case was heavily against him by now.
He hired another lawyer and this guy did such a lousy job that I wanted to grab him by his throat and say listen hear you piece of rotten scum, you are not even trying to help my dad here and I don’t care what you think, innocent until proven guilty so get off your lazy backside and help him, before I loose my cool and stab you with your own pen. I felt helpless because the case is going sideways and my dad might be going to jail. I don’t care if he is guilty or not I don’t want him in jail again.
Broeks phoned a lot from America and had to help dad and I with money so that we could eat and get to court and if he gets sentenced I have to get home. And so dad and I sat one night and I studied the expression on his weary face, he was afraid and the worry was eating him alive.
It was then that he looked at me and said: ‘Mannie, must I run’
I said: ‘dad I honestly don’t know, but if you do I will help you. You should go to Botswana or deep into Africa where they won’t find you. I will set up an encrypted email for you so we can communicate or we’ll find a way to make contact, dad, running means your guilty or even if you are innocent you can never come back here. They will look for you all your days and you will never truly be free’
he said: ‘hmm hmm, I hear you’. I spoke to Broeks one day and he said ‘Mannie, dad is guilty, I looked at the transcripts and there’s no way all this is made up, I know dad and I don’t think he’s going to get out of this one’ Deep down I knew too he did those things to that little girl. I was immune to child molesting by now and despite him being guilty I still wanted him to not go to jail. He’s my dad after all and although he utterly ruined our childhood I loved him and wanted him in the free world.
So the day came for the final verdict, I went alone with him, car was packed and ready. We entered the courtroom and he sat in the chair in front of me. Judge Box was presiding and he’s been known to be hotheaded and don’t take any nonsense. When people ask him who’s your judge and he said Box, they would shake their heads and say eish good luck your gonna need it.
So they started the court proceeding and one by one they found him guilty on all the charges against him. I will never forget that moment, he turned around and said ‘ I’m f..ked, 15 years’ My heart sank and a deep sorrow overcame me. My dad just got 15 years in jail. Justice was served for that little girl and her family, I was not mad and didn’t want revenge or a second opinion, I just saw my dad get a jail sentence and I was sad. He shook my hand before they led him away, I hugged and kissed him and said ‘dad I’ll see you again soon’. I asked the guards if I could quickly speak to him and find out what he wanted me to do and they let me pass.
I spoke to him through the gate and he wanted me to come back and visit him, we found out quickly when the visiting days were and it was on the weekend. I visited him with special permission, Saturday and Sunday. Now remember I don’t have a license but I drove back and forth to visit him. I can’t remember exactly how many times but I had to leave for home because money was tight. I came to visit him one last time and then said goodbye. We were in Baufort about 1½ to 2 months I can’t remember but it was over and I left for the south coast 1200km away and I did it in two days. It was a nice drive, as I drove I thought of my dad and thought of this messed up world I live in and decided to put the whole thing behind me and carry on with my life, however miserable it may be. This was September 2011 I was now 26.
Conclusion: I am deeply ashamed of the things I said and the way I acted. Sex was my curse and a very sensitive subject to me. I didn’t want to be like that, although I did not commit any sexual crimes or incest I just always felt dirty, sick and perverse. I never ever want to talk about it again or discuss it with anyone. It has long been dealt with, yet this is still sex, one of the strongest forces in human existence and if I don’t keep a watchful eye on it it could come back and turn my life upside down.