Things happen every day. It is a cycle that never fades away but it is still a part of life. You never know when a generous hero might pop up change your life. One such incident would be of the one that happened at a preschool gate. A preschool painted in bright colours with the human rights painted on the walls. A place with a jungle gym for children to play on, and neatly trimmed green grass. The very place where my mother had to be as courageous as a pre-school teacher could be, all while her children watched her through the windows in shock.

It was a Monday morning. After a two day weekend, Mr Mabaso hopped out of his car to walk his son to the front gate. As he was about to ring the bell, a strange man walked up to him and asked that Mr Mabaso hand his smartphone and wallet over to him. Quickly dismissing the guy, Mr Mabaso went on to ring the bell.

For a moment, it seemed as though the man had disappeared. Teacher Winny (my mother) walked out with a smile to open the gate to allow Mr Mabaso and his son to walk in. Right after dropping his son and walking back out of the gate, Mr Mabaso felt the cold, hard sting of glass pierce the back of his head. He turned around in shock and caught a glimpse of the earlier man before he scurried away.

Mr Mabaso cried out in pain as he fell to the cold, hard pavement. Hearing him, the other teachers ran out to see him lying on the ground with blood staining his face. Assuming it would help, a teacher fetched a bucket filled with ice cold water. Teacher Winny stepped out and saw her colleague empty the bucket over the parent’s head.

“What are you doing!?” Teacher Winny yelled out in shock as she saw blood gush out of the parent’s head like boiling water. “Bring Mr Mabaso inside!”

She instructed one of the teachers to quickly fetch the first aid kit as they carried the man into the yard of the pre-school. Getting ahold of the first aid kit, Teacher Winny rolled out a big chunk of cotton wool to put pressure on the bleeding head, an effort to stop the blood that was gushing out. As fast as she could, she exchanged the soaked cotton for cleaner chunks as the ambulance with the paramedics was called.

More parents poured into the preschool, hurriedly dropping their children off and hoping to make it to work on time. One of those parents was Mrs Sithole, who had to shield her daughter’s eyes from the ghastly scene.

“Teacher Winny, what happened?” Mrs Sithole asked as she turned back to look at the injured man after she pushed her child into the building.

“A robbery incident occurred a few minutes back and Mr Mabaso is hurt. We have already called the ambulance,” the teacher replied. “Thankfully, his son is already inside.”

“Hopefully they will get here soon,” Mrs Sithole felt goosebumps run through her body.

They waited rather impatiently for nearly an hour. The bleeding had gone down drastically and Mr Mabaso found himself slipping in and out of consciousness. They held their breaths with each screech of a car pulling into a halt outside, but it was never the arrival of the ambulance.

“The bleeding has finally stopped,” Teacher Winny said as she reached for the bandages and began to wrap them around the man’s head.

“Let’s get him into my car,” Mrs Sithole huffed impatiently, having forgotten about getting to work. “I will take him to the hospital myself. It is better than letting him die out here.”

Hurriedly, they carried him into the car outside the yards of the pre-school. The parent took Mr Mabaso to the hospital and the doctor stitched the wound that he claimed, ‘was scary enough to make him shake’. Mr Mabaso survived the brutal stabbing and his collapse.

A few days later, he returned to the task of dropping his son off at the pre-school. He thanked teacher Winny and Mrs Sithole for their bravery and generosity that allowed him to stay part of his son’s life. The stitches would take some time to heel but he seemed better with the bandage across his head. To his gratitude, the two women mentioned that it was only a pleasure to have saved his life.