Thuso Mbedu’s Painful massage to Mpho Sebeng:
Mpho made it so easy to love him.
Having heard of Mpho’s passing something in me, I short circuited. What are the words that one is supposed string together? Even now I’m seeing the posts and the changed profile pictures, but my brain is refusing to accept why it’s happening. When I force myself to connect the dots, it feels like my heart slows down and I have to remind myself to breathe. I want to find the right words but my mind has blanked. We all know how hard he worked. We all know how determined he was to better himself as a person and in his craft. We all know that she was always one of the best dressed in the room. We all know that he kept showing up for his loved ones. We all know of his big heart, that was overflowing with love. I can hear the sound of his laughter. I can see the frown lines as he zoned in, concentrating. I can see the cheeky grin. I can hear his voice when he said “Thuwowo”. But I don’t know how to take all of that and make it make sense because there’s so much more to it and there is no way to put any of it into words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I like to believe that he knew that I loved him because he was one of the few people I had the courage to tell. He made it safe to do so, and I know that many will attest to this.
To his family, friends and colleagues: May God hold you tight and bring healing to your bleeding hearts. This is a big wound that will take forever to sew itself back together. Handle with care.
Mphowowo… then. Now. Forever. You’ll always be my person. Thank you for doing life with us, my friend.
🌻🤍