Zinhle reaches for her backpack under her desk as soon as she hears the siren signalling break time. She takes out the list Mr Khuzwayo has requested and runs to his office. She is out of breath as she knocks on his office door.

“Come in!” says Mr Khuzwayo.

Zinhle slowly opens the door and closes it behind her.

“Sir, here is the list you asked for,” she says.

Mr Khuzwayo ogles her from top to bottom. He licks his lips as his eyes scan every inch of her body.

Zinhle swiftly looks down at the floor.

“Oh ntombazane yami, hlala phansi (My girl, sit down),” Mr Khuzwayo says and points to a chair next to his.

“I wrote down the name of every learner, Sir,” says Zinhle, confused. Her voice trembles as if she is standing on an icy floor.

“Are you sure you wrote down every name? I hate mistakes.”

“I wrote down every learner’s name, Sir. I’m sure.”

Mr Khuzwayo’s lecherous stare stays on Zinhle. She fidgets with her hands on the table. She is looking at her hands but she can still feel Mr Khuzwayo’s fierce gaze and it makes her uncomfortable. She glances at him and catches him staring at her thighs. Zinhle pulls down her skirt to cover her thighs. Her skirt cannot cover all of her thighs so she puts her hands over the visible parts.

“You see those textbooks? The ones on top of the cabinet?” says Mr Khuzwayo.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Count them for me. I want to see if they’ll be enough for your class,” says Mr Khuzwayo.

Zinhle stands up. She can feel Mr Khuzwayo’s eyes on her as she turns to face the cabinet. The textbooks are on top of the cabinet; she has to reach up to count them. She can feel Mr Khuzwayo’s eyes on her as her skirt rides up. She feels uncomfortable. Mr Khuzwayo observes her with squinting eyes, his face full of desire like a dog drooling over a tasty bone.

“Are the textbooks enough or do we need more?” he says.

“I’m still counting, Sir,” says Zinhle.

“Okay, take your time my girl. Take your time,” he replies with a sinister grin.

“I’m done, sir. There are 64 textbooks,” she says.

“Okay. Please count them again just to be absolutely sure. Remember that I hate mistakes.”

Zinhle suddenly hears the creaking sound of wood. It’s Mr Khuzwayo getting up from his chair. She feels him standing behind her. He slowly walks around her, his breathing deep and slow.

“You know I’ve seen great things in my life,” he says.

Zinhle concentrates on recounting the textbooks.

“Your body is one of those great things I have seen in my life. Your hips and … your body … it’s all perfectly shaped. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re one of those sexy models,” says Mr Khuzwayo.

He is standing behind Zinhle now. She can feel his breath on her neck as he speaks.

“Zinhle is a wonderful name. It’s perfect for you because you are indeed beauty personified. How old are you?” he says.

“I’m 17, Sir,” Zinhle says, her voice trembling.

“You are old enough. You know I’ve seen many beautiful girls like you. Girls who don’t know how to use their beauty. Many of those girls end up with nothing and eventually their beauty fades away. I don’t want you to be one of those girls, and I know you don’t want that for yourself. Am I right?”

“Yes, Sir,” Zinhle blurts out, scared and confused.

“Good. I just knew you are a clever girl. That’s why I chose you. I can make sure that you get anything you want, Zinhle. Anything!” says Mr Khuzwayo.

“I’m done counting, Sir. There are 64 textbooks,” says Zinhle.

She tries to turn but Mr Khuzwayo has pinned her to the cabinet.

“You are a beautiful girl who deserves everything as beautiful as you are. I can give you everything you want,” Mr Khuzwayo says straight into her ear. He runs his hand over her shoulder and down her arm.

Zinhle is shocked and trembles under his touch. Mr Khuzwayo’s hand slides over her chest and squeezes one of her breasts.

“I’ll give you everything. But you and I must have our own little thing together. I want you, Zinhle. I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you. You are beautiful,” Mr Khuzwayo whispers while sniffing her neck.

They are both startled by a knock at the door.

“Just a minute!” Mr Khuzwayo says as he takes a step away from Zinhle and heads to the door. When he opens it Mrs Dlamini, the other History teacher, is waiting outside.

Mr Khuzwayo turns to Zinhle. “Okay, my girl, good work. Take all those textbooks from the top of the cabinet and place them on the table, then you can go back to class.”

Zinhle doesn’t move. She is still shocked by what has just happened – her teacher telling her he wants her.

“I said, good work, Zinhle! Put those books on the table and go back to class!” Mr Khuzwayo says again.

Zinhle quickly snaps out of the shock. “Yes, Sir,” she says.

She quickly takes down a stack of textbooks and puts them on the table. She wants to complete the task while Mrs Dlamini is still talking to Mr Khuzwayo. She quickens her pace and is almost running by the time she exits Mr Khuzwayo’s office.

***

Tell us: What would you do in Zinhle’s situation?