Once upon a time in Johannesburg, lived a young girl full of hope and aspirations named Lindiwe. She lived with her mother who always told her, “My child, when you grow up don’t date umasaka – a man with no money – you will suffer. And I want you to live in comfort.”

Her mother carried her through schooling and luckily, as the mother wished, Lindiwe passed matric with an exemption.

Mtanami uya eskoleni uyozama impilo – further your education for a better life, her mother said when she saw her results. And that was what Lindiwe did; she enrolled for a Bachelor of Arts Degree at Wits.

She loved acting and she wanted to make a living for herself and her mother through acting. Everything was great. Lindiwe had a bursary so her mother did not have to carry the burden of paying her tuition. She had gotten a job as a cleaner in a local supermarket after she was retrenched from her previous job. So life was looking up again, it wasn’t perfect but it was looking up.

So because Lindiwe stayed at the University residence, she was closer to campus and only went home on weekends to spend time with her mother, who was now alone. Whenever she would go home she would listen to how much Joyce, the next door neighbour, always bragged about her husband who was in the force, although he was never home and had not been home in twenty years. He often sent them his pictures with no money though.

“Remember, don’t date umasaka,” this was now her mother’s queue to go to bed.

One evening, Lindiwe had just finished her drama class. Her curvaceous body landed her the role of the prostitute. As she walked home after a long and tiring day, a blue Mercedes Benz C class car, passed by. It was her favourite car.

If only I had a man that was rich; he was going to fetch me in his car and I wouldn’t be walking at this time of the night, she thought to herself.

The C Class Benz that had just passed her reversed and pulled over. Scared and panicking, she waited to see if the car was maybe dropping someone off. But no one came from the passenger side. Instead, a man came out of the driver’s seat and approached her…

As the man was approaching, Lindiwe thought to herself, here is the man of my dreams, could this be it? She began to think of the ‘ideal’ man they always spoke about with her friends. And this fellow approaching fit the description perfectly; partially grey hair, tall, dark, and very handsome, not only in appearance but in the pocket too it seemed. He would make a great sugar-daddy.

“Hey beautiful,” said the mysterious man who looked so ‘hot’ and well into his fifties.

“Yes handsome, you most certainly can give me a lift. I stay right here at Esselen residence,” said Lindiwe as she jumped in his car without even hearing what the man had to say. The conversation was hot and so they found themselves driving around, not wanting it to end. Lindiwe thought she had gotten herself a “big fish”, as they called the rich daddies with her friends, and wasn’t about to let go.

Eventually the man, who called himself Ben suggested they book a hotel for the night. Lindiwe was impressed by the offer, and, thinking of the rewards that this night might bring her, agreed to spend the night together with this man…

And as both had anticipated, the night was filled with incredible lovemaking.

Yho chomza ngithole uSugar-daddy. Akangibonisanga umhlolo izolo, ngathi umfana omncane wesoja – wow, I got a sugar-daddy and he dazzled me in bed yesterday. I could’ve sworn he was 18 and in the army the way he handled me,” said Lindiwe the following morning at school talking to one of her friends, Bongi, who was the daughter of Mam-Joyce their neighbour.

As Bongi was still listening to yesterday’s steamy sequence of events, Lindiwe’s phone interrupted them. It was a message. She went into a frenzy of joy, jumping up and down when she read it. When Bongi asked what was wrong, Lindiwe showed her the messaged.

It was Standard bank notifying that R15 000 has just been deposited into Lindiwe’s account from Ben.

They went crazy together on a shopping spree, with Bongi declaring that she must also get a sugar-daddy since her useless father left them long ago going to the army.

Months went by and everything was great.

Lindiwe and her mom were now living the good, sweet, life with the R15 000 deposits every month. Even Bongi got herself a sugar-daddy. Life for these varsity girls was going sweeter by the day. They even cut ties with their boyfriends that they had met in University because they were “broke”.

Little did both highflying ladies, now in Stilettos, know where this sweetness was leading them to.

Bongi, for some reason that she also didn’t seem to understand, was very eager to meet Ben, maybe put a face to all this money spending. But she always missed him when he visited Lindiwe in their room. But as fate would have it, they were going to meet one day…

And that day finally came…

As Lindiwe and Joyce, two girls from humble beginnings who were now bunking school and partying every night, were getting ready for a party in Braamfontein, Ben called and told them he would be at the party.

As the two girls got to the party at Bliss Corner, Bongi went to the ladie’s room and when she came back, there was Lindiwe across the room with a man who she believed was the loaded sugar-daddy Ben.

“Chomee, come see my Sugar-daddy,” Lindiwe said going to fetch Bongi alone.

They went to him in excitement.

“Ben, daddy, meet my friend Bongi,”

All the sweetness they had ever had turned to bitterness when Ben turned to meet Bongi.

It was Michael, Bongi’s father who was supposed to be in the army in Zimbabwe, but was here in Johannesburg dating young girls while Bongi and her mother were going hungry.

“My God Lindiwe, you have been sleeping with my father!” Bongi accused as she recognized Lindiwe’s Ben from the photos he had sent to them.

But before the confused sugar-daddy and his young girlfriend, Lindiwe, could say anything, Bongi had already grabbed a gun from one of the unsuspecting security guards and was pointing it at them.

With eyes full of anger and pain, a heart full of anguish and misery from how poor they had been for twenty years, Bongi pulled the trigger and murdered her father. Then turned the gun to her friend and shot her as well…
Realizing that she had just ended her friend’s future, she put the gun to her head and killed herself. The crowd dispersed in fear, screaming and going in all directions running for their lives.
The sweet party ended too soon.

There they lay there, in a pool of their own blood; two girls once so eager about their bright future, and a sugar-daddy who ruined it all for them. What a tragedy.


Back home, the next day, after bragging about the money she had been getting from “umkhwenyana” – son in-law, to Joyce, Lindiwe’s mom switched on the TV as they sat down over a cup of tea. The one o’clock news were on.

“Things took a tragic turn at the Bliss Corner night club in Braamfontein yesterday night, as a student and her boyfriend were murdered in cold blood. The girl who later turned the gun to herself also died at the scene. The police will release the names of the unidentified three, as they are waiting to confirm details with their families…”

It was only the next day that the police had visited Lindiwe’s mom and Joyce and informed them.

Overcome with anger, grief, resentment, embarrassment, regret, and thoughts of being a failure as a mother, thinking of how she had driven her daughter to her death by telling her to date a rich man not “umasaka” Lindiwe’s died in her sleep that night.

Nobody knows of Joyce; she stopped bragging and never came out of her house since.

The End