Another birthday had come and gone…

A seat finally opened up, and Sonto rested her feet after a long day at the shop.  She sunk into the flattened chair and rummaged through her handbag; a smartphone with a cracked screen and stringy earphones emerged. The phone beeped for her attention, flashing a notification from her social media – she ignored it.

The bus was packed, but silent. Everyone had tired themselves out from a day’s worth of work. School children dozed off in their sports attire. Men in suits held straight faces and older women stayed alert, ensuring they didn’t miss their stop. Street lights were beginning to reluctantly flicker on before the last ray of light disappeared from the skyline. The streets were roaring still, unafraid of the dusk ending the day.

The bus rolled through many neighbourhoods. With no sights worth seeing, Sonto fiddled with her phone – music app, playlist, Samthing Soweto-Happy Birthday. A melodious beat began. A soothing voice sung to her.

“Happy, happy, happy, happy, birthday to you oooh …” Samthing Soweto serenaded her. Her head bopped gently as a smile sneaked its way onto her face.

Beep beep – another notification. Sonto boredly looked at her screen. Another ‘Happy Birthday’ text and a few more confetti reactions to a post her mother had made.

Since graduating from high school, seven years ago, birthdays had never been the same. Once she had the freedom to have fun with her friends, but now they worked all day. Once they celebrated with gifts and sleepovers, but now everyone was too tired at the end of the day. All that mattered to Sonto now was arriving home safely at her bed. She decided that the ending of this song would mark an end to her birthday on a sweet note.

Just then … another beep. Reluctant to view another social media message, Sonto noticed that the notification came from another app.

Chommie!!! Get home quickly, something isn’t right – the text from Jabulile read.

The urgency shook Sonto upright in her seat. Anxiety built up. She dropped her shoulders with a sigh, typing frantically.

The bus just entered Diepkloof. I’ll arrive in 20 minutes. WHAT’S GOING ON? Is everything ok?!

Without an immediate response Sonto fell back into her seat – eyes shut, heavy breathing. She said a short prayer, “Please let everything be Ok.”

Falling asleep, Sonto rolled around Soweto as the bus grew emptier and emptier. The passenger next to her tugged her awake 20 minutes later.

The bus breaks squealed to a halt, and the engine and exhaust huffed and puffed as though it was yawning. Sonto shot out of her seat and scurried to the door.

“Ngiyabonga. See you tomorrow Mr Zondo,” Sonto said to the bus driver, “dark and early, too,” she giggled.

“I hope you had a lovely birthday, young lady,” Mr Zondo said, opening the bus doors, “ Remember that tomorrow will be even lovelier.”

Those were Mr Zondo’s daily departing words of wisdom for Sonto. They were the only birthday wish she had received in person boarding the bus at dawn. He was a familiar face she’d come to appreciate. With a smile, she waved goodbye, minding her step on the stairs like the door sign warned.

Lifting her eyes from the ground, Sonto met a resounding “SURPRISE!!” that shook her awake from her long day.

It was Jabulile, her best friend. She was bearing plenty of gifts and beneath all that, Sonto was sure that bad news followed.

“Mngani, what’s this?” Sonto was confused with shock and delight. What was Jabulile doing here, she thought. She should still be at work.

“What are these beautiful daisies and bouncy balloons for?” Sonto’s thoughts found the words to speak as Mr Zondo closed the doors and drove the bus to its final destination.

“It’s your birthday, girl! And these are flowers for my favourite friend.” Jabulile walked toward a stunned Sonto, one arm extended and another tucked behind her back. She embraced her friend.

Tears welled up in Sonto’s eyes. The gesture meant more than she thought it would.

“I love you, chommie. Happy Birthday,” Jabulile spoke with bursting excitement, handing over the beautiful bouquet and wiping her tears of joy away.

Sonto sniffed and held her flowers tight, raising her eyes to the colourful balloons above her. She had to ask, “Mngani, but shouldn’t you still be at work?”

“Hush,” Jabulile interrupted her concerns, “I will not be missing my bestie’s 25th birthday for a month-end salary.” They looked in each other’s eyes lovingly. “Jokes,” Jabulile quickly continued, “that’s what half days are for and your quarter of a century birthday milestone is for celebrating!!!”

Jabulile couldn’t contain her excitement standing in the same spot as though they were waiting for another bus to pick them up.

Slowly, Jabulile’s hidden arm emerged bearing a bag that shimmered as the street light hit it. Sonto’s eyes bulged bigger than her balloons.

“Hai, chommie, there’s more?!” Sonto burst into tears of joy that startled the boys running across the bus stop.  Jabulile smiled, and her eyes started to well up.

She embraced Sonto again and whispered in her ear, “You work so hard, I can’t wait for it to pay off. I want your dreams to come true for you and this gift is the beginning. Open it up.”

Sonto pulled out the smartphone of her dreams and sunk onto the bus stop bench with disbelief and imploding joy, “Thank you so much, chommie.”

In a moment of silence, Sonto was reminded of the earlier text. “So, what was the urgency in your text about?”

A car approached. Jabulile checked the number plate.

“We need to urgently celebrate you! The night is still young and Sonto girl, so are weeee!”

Jabulile opened the door and gestured for Sonto to get in.

Away they rolled to celebrate.