Vusi wakes to the sound of a car driving into the yard. He sees from the expressions on the faces of Sonke and Sakhile that Gogo did not make it this time.

“No! No! No! Don’t tell me Gogo is no more!” Vusi shouts at them.

“She is gone, Vusi. She has found peace,” says Sonke, holding Vusi.

Vusi wails for hours; he wails like an infant. He cries until he becomes dehydrated and passes out.

He comes to after fifteen minutes. Neighbours have filled their house, come to sympathise over the loss. The bitterness Vusi feels in his heart becomes literal, because he can taste it on his tongue.

What will become of me and Sakhile, he wonders.

Sonke gets word to Vusi’s mother that Gogo has passed away. He also tells Bonginkosi, Vusi’s youngest uncle. Vusi’s oldest uncle and Sakhile’s mother cannot be reached, because no-one knows where they live.

Rich relatives from the mansion in the homestead arrive in the evening. Sakhile confronts them as they are about to enter the house.

“Can I help you?” says Sakhile.

The old woman in front, the grandmother from the mansion, Sonke’s mother, is stunned by the tone of Sakhile’s question. “We’ve come to sympathise with you at this trying time,” she says. “We know MaKhumalo was everything to you. Find strength, my childr–”

“Are you here to genuinely sympathise with us, or to pretend like you are sympathising with us?” There is rage in Sakhile’s eyes. “I asked you a question. Do you bring true sympathy, or are you mocking us? This is the first time you have ever set foot in Gogo’s yard, yet you are our closest relatives.”

“We have not come to mock you, dear grandchild. We are all family, in the end. We all feel this loss.”

“You know that we are family, all of a sudden?” Sakhile fumes.

Vusi is just a few steps away, leaning on the wall and watching all of this. He is also angry with Gogo’s rich relatives but he is a quiet person by nature. His younger cousin is his opposite. Vusi always warns Sakhile about losing his temper, but today he doesn’t say a word as Sakhile gives them a piece of his mind.

“For two long years they watched from a distance while Sakhile and I took care of Gogo. Now, all of a sudden, they say we are family. Where were they – ‘our family’ – when we went to bed hungry?” Sakhile’s words are like knives to their hearts. Their rich relatives turn and head back to their mansion.

Vusi’s friend, Patrick, arrives early the following day. He helps Vusi and Sakhile clean the yard. They also fill the water tank, taking many trips to the communal tap with the wheelbarrow. Their youngest uncle, Bonginkosi, arrives later that night with his girlfriend, MaNkosi, in tow. There is a tense silence between him and his nephews.

***

Tell us: Do you admire Sakhile for what he is doing? Or is he ‘cutting off his nose to spite his face’?