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Death you are a cheat! We live in your shadow all the time

“Hi Khulu!
Kunjani Mfowethu, ngu Sam Phillips lona.
Yes, uSisi ungitsheshele izindaba ezinzima, of course, ngawe. Baba, hayi Mfowethu, I am sorry to hear…
But ngiyethemba uNkulunkulu will hear our prayers masimcela ukuthi ube safe … he will bless [you], even the doctors will be looking after you.
Please stay strong mfanakithi,
We love you,
Ngu Sam!”

I received this voice message from my brother on the 23rd of March 2020, in the evening.

I listened to it more than twice, and I was angry. Not angry at my brother Sam, but angry at my sister, Lillian. Why did he inform Sam?

When I called her, in my angry tone, she simply answered, ‘Why not? Sam is our brother, mos.’ I was disarmed and I then retorted, ‘Look here Lillian, I only shared this with you because you are a survivor of this deadly cancer, Sam is not. But I forgive you.’

For over three decades since our first meeting, the three of us, Sam Phillips and Lillian Dube, have called one another brother or sister, depending, who is talking to whom.

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From the 23rd of March 2020, the day Sam called, three days before the first Level 5 lockdown regulations commenced, I started my specialised radiotherapy sessions for my cancer at the Sandton Oncology Centre.

For almost seven weeks, every day from Monday to Friday, and sometimes over the weekend, for 20 minutes, I was put into the radiation machine. This lasted until the 6th of May.

My third test in November 2020, which came out negative for cancer, revealed that I may have overcome it, thanks to the modern medical processes and the prayers from my family, including my brother Sam.

Yes, Death you are a cheat!
You take those that are dear to us without warning.
You pretend that we are equal before you, but you choose and attack us when least expected.

Yesterday, I dropped an almost-two-year-old Boerboel in Rockville, and mind you, this was my first visit to Soweto – my home, this year. This is very strange, but due to the Covid-19 regulations and restrictions to save lives – our movement is curtailed.

I decided to pass my sister’s place in Naturena to drop some items that were forgotten at my place last year during a family visit.

As soon as I stopped at my sister’s place – it was exactly 3 pm, and before I came out of the car, Radio 702 headlines news announced the death of another artist and entertainer, Sam Phillips.

My sister was already waiting for me at the gate (I had called before) to collect the items from me, as it was not my intention to enter her house.

It took me a minute or two to come out of the car. I was in shock, dazed and confused. But I explained to my sister what I just heard. She was shocked too.

As soon as I drove off, I called Lillian. Her line was busy. I was not surprised. Friends were calling asking for clarification from her on what happened to Sam.

She returned my call and we spoke for almost forty-five minutes. She was hurt, I was hurt too – our brother has gone, forever this time.

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We spoke and reminisced about the fun we all had in the winter and December of 1995 in the USA, in Detroit (Michigan) and Chicago (Illinois) at the late Reverend Mangedwa Cecil Nyathi’s invitation for Christmas.

We buried my homeboy friend Rev Nyathi, last year November.

At the age of 72, the veteran stage and screen actor, who had graced both the stage and screens and worked as a writer, producer, director, and music composer, had become the latest Covid-19 victim.

Sam did well and had featured in international plays such as Athol Fugard’s Master Herold and The Boys which was performed in New Orleans, USA.

We were busy discussing some of his work that he has lined up for this year when death decided it is not going to happen.

Death you are a cheat! We live in your shadow all the time.

Go well my brother, Rest in Peace!

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By The African Mirror

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