PART THREE: Moving out of my relative's back room

 Life after varsity is amazing but challenging. Having to go to work every day and working unstable hours is really not a child's play. I got a job in Joburg and thus I had to relocate from Pretoria to Joburg. Trust me it wasn't easy. I only knew bits of JHB and that was it. I only knew places in Soweto. I had to survive the dangerous and filthy streets of Joburg every morning. I stayed in Soweto’s Dobsonville the first 3 months. Transport was really costing me and I couldn't take it anymore. I also had problems with my relative. Imagine staying with a relative and sometimes they get mad at you for nothing and having to deal with that every single day. She was a nerve-wrecking woman and I hated her mood swings. In order to save our relationship, I had to leave her in peace. Yeah, I had to.

It was time to move out of this place. I had to move out of that backroom and also out of Soweto. I needed to move closer to work and it had to be fast. I just couldn't breathe in that space. I needed my own space and privacy. I needed to be my own woman and own my crown. There was no way I could survive in that place. I know and get the fact that I'm from the dusty streets of Limpopo but it doesn't mean that I have to settle for less. It was a do or die situation. I needed my own time to have some time alone and the only ticket to that was to move out.

Fast forward, I searched online for places in the Johannesburg CBD and viola! I found very nice apartments in Newtown. So I booked an appointment with the site agent and went to view the place. I was impressed with what I saw. I looked forward to moving into a place near work. That meant I could catch a taxi maybe 15 minutes before I knock on since I had no car at that time. It was a very quick ride. I also enjoyed the fact that the apartment was not far from the shops. I could only walk 20 minutes to the shopping mall which had almost all the services I needed. The likes of beauty, retail, fitness and entertainment shops.

Now the problem was how am I gonna tell my 45 year old cousin that I'm moving out. You know how situations like this always get muddy and irritating with family. She had became a thorn on my foot and I had to tell her where to get off. I wasn't good with confrontations and stuff like that. But I had to do it. I don't know how but it was a must that I do it.

-To be Continued