Agnes

Agnes let all the tears flow out. It was the huge surge of pride and joy she felt that had brought them on, nothing else. The school year was over and her two kids, Gloria and Mthobeli, had truly done well.

“Oh, my children, you don’t understand how happy I am right now,” she said, as she sat between them on her bed, reading their report cards. “At first I wasn’t sure how my working as a cleaner at your school would affect you, but now I see that it’s just made you more determined to do well. And you have,” she said, putting an arm around Gloria’s shoulders.

“So am I gonna get that bike I asked for, Mama?” asked Mthobeli, with the widest of smiles running across his face.

For a moment Agnes didn’t say anything. She had to think about it. Didn’t he deserve it after working so hard? She’d make a plan. She’d save up for it just like she did to buy a fridge, then a TV, then a new washing machine.

Mthobeli’s was the one face she usually struggled to say ‘no’ to. That charming smile and those round brown eyes made her smile – even when he’d just made her angry. And he knew that. This was one fourteen-year-old who certainly knew exactly which of his mother’s buttons to press to get his way. But she expected him to be even smarter, do even better, in Grade 9 the following year. The same was true for Gloria. She’d done well in Grade 10.

“Hayi, you’ll get it, my child. You’ve really worked for it.”

And then it was Gloria’s turn. If Mthobeli could get away with pressing their mother’s buttons like this, she could certainly try it too. After all, they’d both done well at school. The reports they’d just shown their mother confirmed that.

“Nam kalok’, mama, I should also get that phone I asked for.”

Agnes laughed out loud. “You kids will make me grow old before my time.” And she was right. Being a single mother of two had certainly never been easy for her. They were better kids than anything she could’ve wished for, but at times they were a handful. Yes, at times they’d made her feel more like a fifty-year-old than a thirty-eight-year-old woman. But, if raising two kids and getting to celebrate their achievements with them was the reward for all the stressful times, then it was all worth it. That was one thing she reminded herself of whenever it got really tough.

“Before you kids talk too much about what you want, nam I should also get to say what I want. And what I want right now is a nice cup of rooibos.”

For a moment there was a silence between the two children. Mthobeli fiddled with his hands. He clearly didn’t want to make the tea, but Gloria wasn’t going to entertain his laziness today.

“Go make Mama some tea, thyini!” yelled an irritated Gloria, pointing her brother in the direction of the kitchen. “How many times have I made it?”

Agnes smiled. She knew Gloria was just taking chances. “You’re pointing your brother to the kitchen, madam, but when are you going to start cooking? You know you cook the most delicious food when you start early.”

“Haibo, Mama, it’s just Sipho and his mother who are coming for supper, not the president. They visit us all the time and never complain about our food.”

Sipho was one of Gloria’s friends. Their mothers were friends too. And recently Agnes had told Sipho’s mother that she should apply for a scholarship for Sipho and that she would put in a good word for him with the Principal. She told her how she had got her children into Prince Albert’s on scholarships and had given her the forms. Sipho’s mother couldn’t thank Agnes enough when he had been accepted. So this was going to be a celebratory dinner. Gloria had promised to look out for Sipho at school – take him under her wing.

Agnes laughed, “But you should indeed cook a meal fit for a president. Sipho and his mother deserve that.”

Agnes wished her children’s father had not been the coward he was and run out on them. However, his offspring had really grown up into beautiful children since then, despite it. She could remember when she was Mthobeli’s age. Her brother, like Gloria, was sixteen at the time, and would constantly bully her into doing all the household chores. But that was pretty much the only thing her childhood had in common with that of her own kids.

She’d been forced to quit school at an early age, but she would make sure that her kids would finish their schooling and have better lives. That was a vow she’d made to herself.

And now she vowed to help Sipho succeed at school too. Sipho’s mother had helped her in the past and now it was her turn to repay the kindness.

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Tell us what you think: What might be problems (if any) about being a township scholarship kid at a school of kids from wealthy families?