“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. My birth mother was, as far as I was told, a very young and pretty Boer girl. The transfer of child ownership was to be secret, only the two women and the doctor knew. It was so secret in fact, that even my new father was ignorant and believed to the end of his life that my sister and I were his biological children. My stepmother only fell "pregnant" when my father was away for at least 6 months. That way it was easy for her to cover the transfer with a bit of disguise. She loomed over my life, imprisoned in her reality, producing lies like bullets that destroy.”
This is how Colette started the story of her life. Her childhood was terrible. Rejected and neglected by an abusive stepmother who sent her to a convent school run by Irish nuns when she was five, left alone on the rare occasions when she was allowed home, punished for imagined misdeeds or for no reason at all, Colette developed a particular hatred of lies, an insatiable need for love and, during the years of apartheid in South Africa, a special awareness of social justice.
To all who had the privilege of meeting her, Colette was a beautiful woman, in body and in spirit. She was strong, loving and generous, yet humble and caring for all living beings, especially those who were rejected and in need. Incapable of revenge or hatred, she had a deep grief that never really healed. Despite all this, she could be very funny, focused and fight like a lioness for her children. Although interested in science, Colette believed that "only poetry can describe what really matters". Whenever she was asked what she did in life, she replied that she was a poetesse. And those who met her would agree, for her spirit, her way of acting and looking at all aspects of life - and death - was a poetic way.
All poems, photos and drawings on this website are from Colette.
