[The following morning is very quiet in the Batho household. The taste for conversation has left the tongue and the heart has nothing to say as a substitute for all that’s been said and done the previous night. Fridays can be very difficult sometimes. Martin is sitting in the kitchen with his head hanging down in shame; his wife is busy preparing breakfast. The swollen mouth is a reminder of the night before. She keeps her eyes averted from her broken husband. Mary is sitting next to her father, this morning she’s not saying anything like parliamentarian architecting civil war in secrecy. Jeffrey walks into the room and his walking sound is the only touch to life.]

MARTIN: Jeffrey, before you leave for school can we have a word, as a family?

JEFFREY: (still standing) I have to get going; otherwise I’ll never make it to school on time.

MARTIN: I won’t be long, son. (Jeffrey takes a sit on the right hand side of Martin and Agnes sits at the far-end of the table) Thank you. I don’t know where to start but a word of apology would be relevant to begin with. I’m sorry for what happened to this family last night and many nights ago.

MARY: (not convinced) It’s okay.

MARTIN: I never had a humble beginning in life; my childhood is not a very bridal place. My father used physical punishment a lot, and he would always accused his sons of being too womanish and feminine. No matter how hard we tried to prove our masculinity, we were starved of his warmth and affection. He said we were born missing something that everyone else was born with. I’m not trying to proffer the excuse for my failures to disown his mistakes. (Eyes watered with tears) My voice lost its personality when he started wrestling my mother against the walls and calling her names in front of her children. I remember after one family-gathering when we got home, he accused her of flirting with my grandfather, his father. He beat her half-dead. And just before my mother’s death, we attended a wedding ceremony of our relatives in Limpopo, GaMashashane. And when we got back, he stabbed her in the stomach with a breadknife. He said my mother was being too revealing and provocative, and every man in the ceremony wanted to pillow her. (His sun-tanned skin breaks into a bitter look) And after that she never left the house. And when I was fifteen she commited suicide. Then I had to start taking care of my brothers and sisters.

MARY: Why didn’t you tell me or talk to someone about it?

MARTIN: I was afraid that people would start throwing slogans at my family name; I had to protect my family from the shame. I couldn’t let people know that a drunkard father drove his wife into suicide and remarried another woman to hide his faults.

JEFFREY: And you let yourself endure painful memories?

MARTIN: I had to, and one day you’ll understand. And when my stepmom encouraged him to kick me out of the house I divorced my identity. (Looks at Jeffrey with slightest warmth of a caring father) And seeing you becoming an earnest young adult reminded me of the youth entity I wanted nothing to do with. (Shamefacedly) I wanted to kill the freshness of your youth and spoil your innocence. I couldn’t appreciate my position in society. But after last night I realised that it is only you who will hold us together. You are the pillar of this family, and your sister is the wing. You are the fruit of my desire and sweat of my romance. (Looks at Agnes) My life is not tied-down to perfection but I will make things right. And all I’m asking for is a second chance.

MARY: (Tears of joy crowd in her eyes) I love you daddy.

MARTIN: (Leaking out tears suspended for a long time) And I love you too, I love this family.

AGNES: And we love you, Martin.

JEFFREY: We’ll be fine, father.

MARTIN: (Smiles) Good luck with your exams, now get going. (They get up and Mary hugs her parents’ goodbye)

JEFFREY: We… we love… love you, father. (Martin nods his head and Jeffrey exit)

***

Tell us what you : Do you think a person who comes from an abusive background can be a loving and caring person? Or does the apple not fall far from the tree?

***

Glossary of terms:

Mlungu- A White person/ Employer or someone who helps to pay your bills.

Makhwapheni- An underarm lover.

Tjatjarag- An attention seeker or someone who can’t keep a secret.

Mfana- a boy, but can also be used to show close-knitted friendship among gentlemen.

Majita- Guys/Friends

Amacheri- Girls, especially the pretty one’s who desires of every man are.

Magosha- A prostitute.

Mampara- A very stupid person.

Magogo- Grandmother.

Mzalwane- A Christian person/Born-again person.

Wena- You.

Mmata- A friend.

Stabane- Homosexual.

Voetsek- Piss-off.

Kak- To speak a senseless thing/Indecent.

Askies- Sorry.

Entlek- To put things right/Actually.

Sfebe- Spiteful woman.

Lobola- The bride-price.

Makoti- A married woman is addressed as makoti by her in-laws.

Sangoma- Traditional healer.