“Let the witch burn, let her burn!” I could hear the angry mob chanting outside. I quickly went to peek through the window in my bedroom. I could see a bunch of people each holding a tyre, they were outside mam’mathebula’s house. I quickly closed the curtain and went outside. I stood at my gate not knowing if I should call the police or just let them burn her because she deserves it. Witches are making everyone’s life difficult, so if she dies, we will be at peace. I hear police sirens, I turn my head and I see a police van urgently approaching the crowd. There was a gunshot to break the crowd and it helped.

“Why are you not arresting her?” One of the people from the crowd asked the policeman angrily.

“We don’t have evidence,” he replied turning his back from her.

“If I bring evidence, do you promise that she will be punished?” I asked.

The police looked at me with a smug smile on his face.”Yes, young man” he replied.

So I decided to go on a mission to expose mam’mathebula. I had to be alone in this because no one at home would support me. They don’t want to hear anything about witchcraft, we are not allowed to even mention anything related to it. “Gogo, do you really think there is a witch in our community?” I once asked my grandmother one time after I have heard stomping sounds on the roof of our house and saw someone’s shadow walking across my window at night.

”Witches are like Santa Claus, they don’t exist.” That’s my grandma’s famous line. After she said that I no longer had anything to say. “I don’t understand people who are always complaining about being bewitched,” she said onetime when we were watching a show about witchcraft. “Change the channel Thokozani!” she ordered, without questioning anything I changed the channel.

I think she is too naive; she believes that everyone is as good as her. She thinks everyone is as God fearing and strong faithed as her. “Forget about what you heard; I’ll pray for you. Fear nothing as God our father is with you”. And indeed, her prayer worked as I never heard those sounds again and the shadow.

So I hadn’t thought about witches for a long time. But that night made me think of the stories that I have heard from people about a witch in our community. “When I am on my night shift around 01:00, there is usually a howling, dusty and disturbing wind. Thereafter follows a few shadows which disappear at a blink of an eye,” Sabelo who was a security guard at a local retailer said at one of the community meetings. Two weeks later he passed away.There were a lot of similar witchcraft stories from different people from the community.

At the meeting everyone was sure that the witch was mam’mathebula and their reasons were valid. Firstly, mam’mathebula’s house is lavish which is confusing considering how poor and dusty my neighbourhood is. Secondly no one from our community has ever been inside her yard and we’ve never seen her outside. Finally one could hear a bleating goat sound on a random day, but no sign of people going in to attend the ceremony.

Tonight, is the night of the mission, I will prove to my naive grandma that witches are real and we have one in our neighbourhood. I will fulfil the promise I made to the police officer, and I will be a hero for my community.

I ensured that I don’t lock the front door and front gate as I usually do, so it would be easy for me leave. I packed the equipment that I needed in my small black school bag. I had a camera the most important item for the mission and I had a pepper spray to keep myself protected. I wore black clothes, a black mask and black sunglasses. I checked the time it read 01:00, I was right on time. “I will probably catch them in action,” I thought to myself. I quietly left the house so that no one heard me sneak out. My warm hands could feel the cold metal handle as I shut the door behind me softly. The cold winter sharp dawn air hit me on my face as I turned. The sky was pitch black; I could hear the neighbours dogs howling. As I was about to step out from underneath the canopy above the front door, I saw a shadow standing on the roof. Just as I turned it disappeared as if I was imagining it. I listened to my gut and followed it.

I couldn’t believe my eyes; the camera fell down and with teary eyes and a shaking voice I asked the dreaded question. “Gogo?”