Bathandwa is on her way to the clinic when dark clouds gather and splatter out a light drizzle. She waits for the rain to pass, under the shelter of a bus stop. When it keeps pouring down, she braves the rain and continues to the clinic. There she hands out flyers to the snaking queue. People show interest immediately.

“What does one bring?” they ask.

“Your ID book and grant card,” Bathandwa answers in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

“How quick can I get money, I’m desperate,” says a teenage girl who is breast feeding her baby.

“If you bring those two documents, you can get the money immediately.”

Bathandwa is barred from distributing flyers at the shopping centre. The security guard notices them in her hand and asks to see one. “You are not allowed to hand those out here. We have our own loan company,” he says.

“This is a free country and in this country a free market operates,” says Bathandwa.

“If I allow you to hand out those flyers here I will lose my job. So please go free market and free country somewhere else.”

Bathandwa looks around and sees an office with a ‘People’s Loans’ sign on the glass door. She walks away, turns a corner of the Centre, throws the flyers into the air and runs away. She watches from a distance as people pick up the flyers. Some read and ask others for directions. Directing hands point in the general direction of EasyLoans.

When she arrives for work later she assumes the long queue outside their offices to be going to SASSA on the ground floor. It is when she takes the stairs to EasyLoans that she realises that the queue is going to their offices – and most people hold the orange flyers she just handed out.

Andy, her boss, welcomes her with a hug.

“I have been trying to call you but your phone was off,” says Andy.

“Yes, Andy. Sir, my phone was off, it’s old. I need to get a new one.”

“Well, don’t worry about that. With the commission you will make, you will be able to buy a new phone tomorrow. Everyone you see in this long queue is taking out a loan!” says Andy with glee in his eyes, lips close to salivating at the sight of so many customers.

“We have counted 400 people so far. When they sign the agreement, make sure you show them the customer care number they need to call in case they have queries. It will also be on the back of the cards they will receive.”

Bathandwa gets to work. She counts her commission as each loan is processed. By the time she gets to customer 300 there is a broad smile on her face. It is 9 p.m. by the time she finishes with the last customer. She has made nine thousand rand on commissions! She knocks on Andy’s office with the paper work.

“Sit, Bathandwa,” Andy says and stands up to open a safe hidden behind a painting.

“Here it is, as promised. Your commission.” He hands Bathandwa an envelope.

“Thank you, Sir. Andy, thank you so much,” says Bathandwa.

“How about we go out to celebrate with drinks, just me and you?” says Andy in a flirty voice.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate. I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, there is a boyfriend?” Andy drops the flirty voice.

“Yes,” says Bathandwa.

“Oh.” Andy sounds like he is physically wounded. “Lucky him.”

Bathandwa finds Che waiting for her outside the office complex.

“You look happy,” says Che.

“Yes I am. Today I made real money. I will go home with money.”

***

Tell us what you think: People are keen to take out loans, Bathandwa urgently needs, money, so is there any problem here?