It also said the disease was from birth. That meant that… that she lied to me. She kept the disease from me. I had to hear it from Khombo of all people.

I spent the rest of the afternoon watering my pillow till I slept. I was woken up by George and Tinyiko.

“Why didn’t you tell me she has a hole in her heart?” I asked sitting up.

“I’m sorry, but you didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to upset you,” he explained sitting next to me.

“I want to see her. Now!” I got up from bed.

“The doctor said you need counselling first,” he punched my enthusiasm.

“No! What I do need is to see my mother,” I disagreed.

“It’s either that or you won’t see your mom,” he said firmly.

“Who are you to stop me?”

“I’m your father… and…”

“Father? You may be a father to this brat but not to me,”

“Will you do it or not?”

“Fine!” I yelled and threw myself back on the bed.

“You won’t make supper again?” she asked.

“What do you think? You know very well I’m not fine but all you think about is you and your damn tummy,” I lashed out.

“Just make the supper, Nyiko,” George told her.

“This is unfair,” she said weakly and started making the supper.

***

I still couldn’t believe it was a day ago when I realised I’d been living a lie. I walked to her room and just broke down. Four months ago, she’d be sleeping or sitting on this bed, I thought to myself, but now it is empty. She wasn’t there to fill up the space. Four months ago I wouldn’t have been cry myself to sleep every single night. Four months ago, my life wouldn’t be as bad. I missed her terribly. I just wish she was here with me.

“Mihloti, I’m so sorry about your mom. I hear she will not make it,” MaGumede said spitefully as I walked out for some fresh air.

I could see it in her eyes that she found pleasure in what she said. She was very glad my mom was on a deathbed.

“Is that all?” I asked annoyed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to being motherless just as you got used to being fatherless,”

“Plus,” Khombo jumped in, “I’ve bought stacks of tissue boxes for the tearing part,” they laughed nonstop that I ended up returning back to the house.

I’m skipped school that day because I was seeing the therapist. George drove me to the hospital as the therapist I’d be seeing counselled patients’ families. I got to some room and came across a lady I assumed would be my therapist.

“Hi,” I greeted shyly as I made myself comfortable on a chair opposite hers.

“Hi, you’re Mihloti, right? she asked.

“Yes, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to get this over and done with. I just want to see mom,” I said with a bit of cheek.

“So you don’t think you should be here?” she questioned writing notes on a clipboard .

“No, there’s no reason. I don’t need therapy. I’m not insane and I can deal with my feelings,”

“No-one said you were insane,” she told me.

“People say I’m crazy, that I should be locked away. People also say she’ll die,” I meant Khombo.

“I’m just surprised you haven’t done anything crazy, people deal with this sort of stress in crazy ways,”

“I… I almost ki…” I couldn’t say it. “I almost killed my sister,” I finally said. I thought she’d have her jaws on the floor after discovering this. But no, she didn’t judge me or say what a monster I was.

“Why?”

“I thought it would make me feel better about mother’s absence. That if she died her parents would suffer like I am,”

“And… what happened? What stopped you from going through with it?” she asked.

“My conscience wouldn’t let me,” I explained pouring tears.

“For a fifteen year old girl with such a heavy burden to carry, you’re strong,” she concluded. “You should consider having a diary. Write whatever you feel, it’ll help you,”

I was not strong. I was a useless nobody who’d be motherless very soon, according to some people. I stood up and turned to leave. My feet were wobbly; I felt like I’d just fall and forget about seeing mom.

“Mihloti, remember that you’re not useless and you’re somebody,” she said as if she read my thoughts.

“Thank you,” I said wiping my face with the back of my hand. I walked slowly through the doors, with no excitement this time, remembering what happened last time. I wasn’t sure I could take any more pain. I had suffered enough for the last four months. If she was as bad as that curse Khombo said she was, I would just die.

These foolish bunch of doctors spent three months pumping mother with different pills, because they hadn’t found out what was wrong with her. They literally turned her into a chemist. While they were killing her slowly, her hole was getting bigger.

George said because her heart was patched when she was born, it wasn’t easy for them to spot that it was the cause of her illness.

“Yhi! Yoh!” I exclaimed when I got to her ward.

There she was; thinner. That wasn’t my mom. My mom was strong, that woman was weak. She lay in that bed as though she was waiting for a call from heaven. They were right. She is gonna die, I told myself not knowing how to react. I had run out of tears, I couldn’t cry.

***

Tell us: Do you think her mother will die?