By the time my mother wakes up, I have fallen asleep on the couch. She whispers, “Bye-bye girl. Sleep tight.”
I try to answer but there is too much to say. My unspoken words crowd my mind, stifle me. I give my mother’s hand a squeeze. I fall back asleep.
In the morning, it arrives from nowhere. The sign. I nearly faint with relief. Joy takes up a silent, shrill song in my heart. I feel like whooping!
As I burst out of the bathroom, my mother shuffles into the house, exhausted. “What are you so happy about?”
“I thought I was pregnant!” I spin my mother around, dance with her. “But I’m not! Not! Not!”
She is shocked. “Bulelwa!”
“Sorry, mom, sorry.”
Her eyes are wide with anxiety. “Why did you take the chance?”
“I forgot. I forgot!” I grin at her like this is something to be proud of.
“Bulelwa, you can’t forget!”
“I know. I’m sorry!” But I can’t stop smiling.
My mother is too worried about the danger to share my relief.
I pull myself together, tell her sincerely: “Never again, mom. I promise. Don’t worry.”
She stares at me, her tired eyes challenging me.
“I’ve learned my lesson.”
Now she believes me. “Bulelwa! I’m telling you now, I can’t take it. You must only have a child when you are ready.”
“I know! Now I know. I want to be with someone I can trust. I want to get my career going first. I want to not feel confused and worried. I want to only feel happiness, when it happens!”
I run outside in my pyjamas, catch Lulama walking through the gate on his way to save his baby birds. I attack him from behind, hug him tight. His heart through his ribs races like a jazz number, uneven, skips a few beats.
“I’m not pregnant. But thank you!”
He pulls me to look at him. My smile drops from my lips. We look into each other’s eyes, two wise owls.
“I’m taking a break from men,” I tell him gently.
Hurt steals across his face.
“But I think I will love you eventually.”
A shy joy replaces it.
“But right now, I must get stronger in myself. Celebrate my freedom. I don’t want to fall into a man’s identity.”
Lulama nods like this all makes perfect sense to him.
“And I will never have a baby unless we both say yes.”
He doesn’t laugh at me. He doesn’t try to persuade me to be with him.
“Bulelwa, I have lived next to you all my life. I am really cool to play you music and watch you become powerful.”
My mother is listening from inside. I can sense her attention.
Wings cause a silent wind somewhere near the roof. We both turn and catch a glimpse of the huge owl the colour of warm, rippled wood, leaving.
***
Tell us: Do you know any young woman or girl who you would advise to ‘take a break from men’? Why should she?
