Matt wakes up at dawn and heads to his father’s study. He spends three hours looking at the farm’s financial books. Satisfied that the books are in order, he looks through other drawers in the study. He finds his father’s photo album. He smiles involuntarily when he sees how much he looks like his father and grandfather. He witnesses the joy of childhood in the pictures of his father as a toddler, and the emptiness in his eyes in the photos where he is older. Matt wonders what his father saw when he was a soldier that made his eyes devoid of joy.

Through the window Matt sees the procession of farmworkers coming from the workers’ quarters. Whole families all smartly dressed – men and boys in suits, women and girls in dresses – approach the house. Naomi fixes the knot on Matt’s tie.

“Have you made a decision about the farm?” says Naomi.

“I’m still thinking about what do, babe.”

Church hymns waft through the window from the front yard. Naomi looks at the families of farmworkers through the window.

“What you decide will affect them. It has to affect them in a good way, Matt,” says Naomi.

“Yes, babe. I was thinking the same thing. I have to come up with a good solution.”

Naomi plants a kiss on Matt’s cheek. There is a knock. Siyanda is at the door, a few women are behind him.

“The women need to talk with Mrs Stevens,” says Matt.

“What about?” asks Matt.

“Well, the women wanted to know if she needed a hand preparing food, because there will be a lot of people and she is pregnant.”

“We have platters,” says Naomi, opening the door wide to show the platters on top of the table.

Siyanda and the women peek in, look at each other and smile.

“That won’t be enough,” says Siyanda. “There will be a lot of people attending the funeral.”

Naomi’s face breaks with concern.

“Don’t worry,” says Siyanda. “The women will cook rice and beef curry with the meat in the freezer.”

“Great!” says Naomi. She leads the women to the kitchen.

Matt had envisioned a small quick funeral, but the yard is packed. He is surprised by the number of cars in the yard. Bakkies belong to other farmers in the area, sedans to the farm school teachers, SUVs to his father’s business associates. The procession behind the hearse to the nearby church is long.

In the church, the Stevens family sits on the front bench. They hear speaker after speaker fill in the blank pages left by Stevens. Matt is a long way from understanding the man that his father was, but he is starting to know something about him.

The casket drops down into the grave, and red earth is piled on top of it while the procession belts out jubilant isiZulu hymns. When they return to the farm they are welcomed by the aroma of fragrant beef curry.

Siyanda is next to Matt on the verandah. Everything is winding down. Most of the people have left. Matt pours whisky into two glasses. They both take sips.

“That was a lovely send-off,” says Matt.

“It was beautiful,” Siyanda concurs.

“Menzi was telling me you are at UCT.”

“Yes, BCom Accounting, second year.”

“I did mine at Wits,” says Matt. “How are you finding second year?”

“It’s okay, but it’s hard to find the time to study. I have to work a lot to keep afloat.”

“Your father told me about your situation. And I saw in the financial books that my father helped you with cash sometimes.”

“Yes, it’s tough.”

“Listen. I don’t know what to do with the farm. I saw from the books that the farm was profitable before, but not anymore. Do you have an idea what went wrong?”

“My honest opinion is that your father just grew old. He was tired.”

“Do you think it can get back to where it was? I look at the many people here – they depend on the farm for their livelihood.”

“That is true.”

“I know you are studying. Listen, this is my offer. I want you to run the farm. I can pay your salary, and all the other workers, for exactly one year. Would you be able to turn things around in a year?”

“Yes, it’s possible,” says Siyanda, knowing deep inside that Mandisa will support him in this.

“What do you think?”

“I’m just thinking I need to keep on with my studies. By correspondence.”

“Unisa has a good programme. I’m doing my honours through them.”

Siyanda nods.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Yes, we have a deal,” says Siyanda.

“Thanks, Siyanda. Let’s make this work!”

On Monday, many of the farmworkers are there to wave goodbye to the SUV carrying the Stevens family away. Matt, Naomi and Evelyn sit in quiet contemplation as the SUV negotiates the gravel road.

Siyanda looks at the rustling sugar cane fields around him. He feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to find his father looking at him with immense pride.

“Baba,” says Siyanda.

“I’m so proud of you, my boy. Every worker here is proud of you. You could have easily abandoned us and returned to Cape Town.”

“I know, Baba,” Siyanda nods. “It is you who taught me that sometimes in life we don’t get what we desire but what we need.”

 ***

Tell us: This story ends with Siyanda hearing how proud his father is of the choice he has made. What do you feel about the compromises Siyanda has made to ‘make this work’?