“My life began as a big lie. I was born in South Africa in '46. It was a time of chaos, change and chance for some. I was born and officially dead 3 days later. As far as I was told, my birth mother was a very young Boer girl. The transfer of child ownership was to be secret, only the two women and the doctor knew about it. It was so secret that even my adoptive father was kept in the dark and believed until his death that my sister and I were his biological children. My stepmother only became 'pregnant' when my father was away for at least six months. That way it was easy for her to cover up the transfer with a bit of disguise. She loomed over my life, imprisoned in her reality, and spewing lies like bullets that destroy.”
This is how Colette might have started, had you asked her to tell her story. Her childhood was terrible. She was rejected and neglected by her abusive stepmother, who sent her to a convent school run by Irish nuns at the age of five. Left alone on the rare occasions when she was allowed home and punished for imagined misdeeds or no reason at all, Colette developed a hatred of lies and an insatiable need for love. During the years of apartheid in South Africa, she developed a special awareness of social justice.
To everyone who had the privilege of meeting her, Colette was a beautiful woman, both in body and in spirit. Strong, loving, and generous, she was also humble and caring toward all living beings, especially those who were rejected or in need. She was incapable of revenge or hatred, but she had a deep pain that never healed. Despite this, she could be very funny and focused, and she fought like a lioness for her children. Though interested in science, Colette believed that "only poetry can describe what really matters." When asked what she did in life, she replied that she was a poet. Those who met her would agree that her attitude toward life - and death - were poetic.
All of the poems, photos and drawings on this website are by Colette.
