Before Survival Became a Choice

The woman who chose survival was a mother and a father at the same time… to her two children.

She had managed to work… while saving up money to go to university so she could study.

To her children… she was Superman.

Because they always ate breakfast. Lunch. And supper.

Even though the children were too young to understand how much their mother worked.

To the children… she was a woman who never seemed to break a sweat.

The dad version appeared during the daytime… as she worked long shifts for low pay. But enough to cover her monthly expenses.

The woman version appeared after work… as she fixed something to eat for her children. And made sure their school uniforms were ironed… ready for the next day.

Then at midnight… another version of her appeared.

The girl.

A girl who would cry. A girl who tried reaching the father of her children… but he didn’t answer his phone.

The same girl who would wipe her tears… and continue studying through the night.

Putting money aside for her university studies.

Because one thing she had realised… was that the economy was getting worse.

Food prices increased. Education became more expensive.

But her salary… barely moved an inch.

By two in the morning… she finally went to sleep.

Only to wake up at four. Bathe. Then wake her children… and get them ready for school.

When Getting By Got Harder

The woman who chose survival managed to save enough money… to pay the R10 000 registration fee.

And put money aside for the fees that would carry her through her three-year diploma.

That’s when getting by got harder.

She still kept her job… because it was the glue connecting survival today… and a better future for her children tomorrow.

Balancing both worlds demanded a lot from her. But her children were the reason she could push beyond what her body could take.

Never once did she complain.

If she had classes during working hours… she would go through the work alone when she got home.

Or ask a classmate for notes… and key takeaways.

Then after the children had gone to sleep… she would study throughout the night.

She did this every day.

In her mind… today’s sacrifice was worth tomorrow’s life.

Perhaps that was the part nobody around her could fully see. The more she became the person everyone depended on… the less room there seemed to be for the person she was still trying to become. Mother. Provider. Protector. Each role mattered. Each role demanded something. And somewhere between fulfilling those responsibilities… another version of herself was learning to wait… a quiet conflict between identity and expectation explored deeper in The Version They Needed.

On weekends… she would bond with her children. Keep up with everything going on in their world. And give advice where necessary.

When Tomorrow Started Costing More

The woman who chose survival woke up one morning… with tears flowing down her face.

Three long years it had been…

Three whole years of sacrifice. Hard work. And unconditional love towards her children.

That morning… she asked her children if they had exams or tests.

“No, Mommy!”

One child answered.

“I’m only starting class tests next month.”

The other added…

“I wrote mine last week.”

Mother smiled.

“Then today we’re not going to school. Mother is taking you guys out later to go eat at Spur.”

The children cheered.

Then one asked…

“Mother, what’s the occasion? Because normally when we go out, there’s something happening.”

Mother smiled.

“Smart young man!”

“Mother has graduated. And tomorrow I’ll be receiving my certificate… wearing my graduation gown.”

The children cheered again.

They went out.

And the following day… Mother received her certificate.

Three years.

Finally… she had done it.

Now she could go and find a job.

Outside of that… nothing had really changed.

Mother still had her job. Mother was still paying school fees. Mother was still cooking for her children.

And life continued.

As she went to apply for jobs at private institutions… she kept hearing the same thing.

“We’re no longer looking for people with these qualifications because the skills you’ve acquired are outdated.”

“Times have changed. And because of technology, we’re looking for new skills in these areas.”

“Get that knowledge… then we can help you.”

Something inside the woman who chose survival broke that very minute.

All the money she had saved up. The professors. The university she had trusted.

Nobody had told her that the qualification she was studying towards might not open the doors she expected.

And the fact that the course was still being offered… made it even more difficult for Mother to understand.

Then something else returned.

The promises she had made to her children… about the future she was going to build for them.

And another memory followed.

The father of her children.

The same man who had once promised to love her always. Then left when he heard she was pregnant.

And now… another future she had believed in was not unfolding the way she had imagined.

Sometimes the hardest part of watching a dream move further away isn’t the effort you put into reaching it. It’s discovering that even after doing everything you believed was required… the future you worked towards may still remain out of reach. And when responsibilities continue demanding answers, a person may begin making room for survival where a dream once stood… a different life shaped by that quiet adjustment explored deeper in When Dreams Quietly Die.

The trust she had placed in people… and in the country she called home… began turning cold.

Then she looked into her wallet. Her bank account.

The money she had worked so hard to save… had been depleted.

And that’s when… another door opened.

The Door the Woman Who Chose Survival Never Imagined

As the days turned into weeks… and weeks into months… inflation went up.

Prices went up. Taxi fees went up.

And yet again… her salary remained the same.

And outside her household… the cost of living continued placing pressure on South Africans. Statistics South Africa’s consumer price inflation figures showed how rising transport and housing costs could make getting by more difficult… especially when income failed to keep pace.

The first crack appeared when she couldn’t keep up with her rent.

Her landlord would ask her to pay… but she didn’t have the money.

She would delay payments. And every time it happened… the landlord would threaten her with eviction.

School fees were also outstanding.

At her job… when she requested an early payday… unfortunately, the business couldn’t help her.

According to their own internal policies.

That’s when the second crack appeared.

One afternoon… her children approached her.

One needed help with homework. The other wanted to play… like they always did.

Both calling out for her at the same time. Debating with each other about who deserved Mother’s attention more.

And at that precise moment… something inside Mother moved.

Everything she had been repressing inside… came out.

“Why don’t you do your own homework for once?”

“Tomorrow, if I’m not here, what are you going to do?”

“Learn to do things alone!”

Then she turned to the other child.

“And you… why do you want to play?”

“Just because you’re done with homework doesn’t mean you should stop learning!”

“Learn while you still have the advantage of time!”

She screamed.

That was the first time her children had ever seen her like this.

She apologised. But they had already run off to their rooms.

And with nobody beside her… the woman who chose survival called an old friend.

Someone she knew from back in the days.

And for the first time… she told somebody about everything she had been bottling up inside.

For a whole hour.

Her friend listened. She felt bad for her.

And told her she had experienced something similar… although not exactly the same.

Then she told the woman about another way she had managed to take care of her younger siblings.

And if she was interested… she could show her.

A way where she could turn her body into an asset… for cash flow.

And just like that… another door opened.

H2 5: What Survival Offered

The woman who chose survival… at first rejected the proposal.

But after a few days… she accepted.

As her financial situation was on the brink of collapsing.

So her friend, on the other side of the video call… explained how the business worked.

How women presented themselves. How they found clients.

And how important it was to protect herself… because sometimes clients could be unpredictable.

Her friend also spoke about the different kinds of men she had encountered.

Married men. Lonely men. And younger men from their community.

When the woman who chose survival asked why those specific men… her friend smiled over the video call.

“You will see.”

She agreed.

But she didn’t quit her job.

Her plan was simple.

Her salary would pay for her children’s school fees. While the other work would cover their day-to-day living expenses.

During the day… she would go to work.

After school… take care of her children.

And in the dark… when her children were sleeping… another night shift would begin.

She did it.

And it worked.

She could pay the bills on time. Contribute towards her children’s education. Their sports activities when needed.

There was food on the table. The lights stayed on. And the rent was paid.

As the days turned into weeks… and weeks into months… something else started changing.

Her desire to find a man and settle down… slowly began switching off.

The work demanded a lot from her. And every time she worked… she would disconnect from her body.

She didn’t enjoy the work.

And at the same time… she didn’t necessarily feel that what she was doing was wrong.

Over time… she began understanding what her friend had meant.

“You will see.”

Some married men spoke about no longer being intimate with their wives.

The spark had died… as they explained it.

Some didn’t have partners. And spoke about loneliness.

Some younger men complained that women in their age group weren’t interested in dating them… because older men could provide more than they could.

And sometimes… men would pay her without wanting to become intimate.

They only wanted to talk.

Some spoke about their homes. Their marriages. The feeling that they no longer had the same authority in households they had worked to build.

And she would listen.

Different men. Different stories. Different reasons for walking through the same door.

And the woman who chose survival… was filling some of those spaces.

Through that work… she was able to take care of her family.

Conclusion: The Woman Who Chose Survival

Once upon a time… there was a woman who was a mother and a father at the same time.

To her two children… she was Superman.

Breakfast. Lunch. Supper.

School uniforms ironed. School fees paid.

And whenever they needed Mother… Mother was there.

But there was another version of her that her children didn’t always get to see.

The girl who appeared at midnight. The girl who cried.

The girl who still believed that somewhere beyond her current environment… there was a better life waiting for her.

So she worked. Saved. Studied.

And for three long years… she gave everything she could towards that future.

Until eventually… she graduated.

And for one afternoon… Mother wasn’t thinking about rent. School fees. Or how much money was left in her bank account.

She was sitting at Spur… watching her children celebrate something she had worked so hard for.

Mother had done it.

But life continued.

The bills didn’t stop coming. The taxi fares didn’t stop increasing. The landlord still wanted his rent.

And the qualification she believed would open another world… wasn’t opening the doors she had imagined.

Then one afternoon… her children approached her.

One wanted help with homework. The other wanted to play.

The same things they had always wanted from their mother.

But this time… Superman raised her voice.

And for the first time… her children saw something underneath the cape.

A woman who was tired. A woman who was afraid of what tomorrow might demand.

A woman who had spent years giving everything she had… and still found herself wondering what else she could give.

Then another door opened.

She rejected it at first. But eventually… she walked through.

And something changed.

The rent was paid. The lights stayed on. The children continued going to school. Food remained on the table.

And the woman who chose survival could finally breathe a little.

But the woman who once stayed awake at midnight studying towards a different tomorrow… was now staying awake for another reason.

Another shift. Another person needing something from her. Another version of herself that knew how to provide.

And the strange thing was… it worked.

Not because she loved every part of it. Not because every difficult decision had suddenly become easy.

But because when morning came… her children still had a home.

And she still had a job. Her qualification. Her dreams.

All the things that had existed before that other door opened.

They hadn’t disappeared.

But neither had the question of what she wanted her own life to become.

Because somewhere between being the father during the day… the mother after work… and the girl who appeared at midnight… she had learned how to become whatever the moment required.

But who was she… when nobody needed anything from her?

The children didn’t know. The people at work didn’t know.

The men who visited her at night only knew the version they had come to see.

And perhaps… even she hadn’t had enough time to answer that question.

Tomorrow would come.

The light would take over the dark. Her children would wake up.

And Mother would be there. Just like she had always been.

Because for her… survival was no longer something she was waiting to achieve.

It was something she had learned to do every day.

And somewhere beneath all those versions of herself… the girl who once studied at midnight… still had a future she wanted to live.

Mpumelelo Ncwana writes about the psychology behind decisions, identity, and the systems that shape behaviour.