Zonke is my birth name but friends call me Zozo. It was derived from my birth name and it’s so commonly used that sometimes when people call my original name it feels like they are not speaking to me. I am nineteen years old and I’m from Gugulethu NY16.

Growing up I had it all. Life taught me some serious lessons and I made some terrible decisions that I sometimes wish I could press the rewind button so that I could go back and right my wrongs. The biggest one was to trust my first boyfriend with my freedom and happiness. I agreed with him when he said we shouldn’t use a condom. It was very naïve of me as I am now suffering the consequences alone.

My mother passed away when I was still pregnant and that broke me down. I was devastated when she passed away, even to a point that I had suicidal thoughts. But I thought about my daughter, Litha; who was going to be there for her if I take my life?

I now work in Montague Gardens in one of the firms that produce salad dressings. I am a cleaner. They don’t pay me much but my baby has got to eat, get clothed and go to crèche.

It all started on the in September of 2010. I was living alone with mom as my brother was arrested for one of the endless criminal activities he used to do. This time he wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Mom often visited him but I was never interested in visiting him. I believed he got himself there so he needed to learn a lesson. The next time he thought of taking other people’s hard earned money, he would remember how it felt to have been in prison.

Mom was a domestic worker in Constantia. I was sixteen years old so she believed that I could manage to live on my own when she went to work. I wasn’t totally on my own though; I had my older cousins from Gugulethu who would come and make sure that I was safe daily. Mom came home every other weekend on a Friday and she would leave for work early Monday morning.

I enjoyed the freedom to make my own decisions; to decide whether I should or I shouldn’t go to school, whether I should call my boyfriend to come sleep over at my house or not. I was not as mature as mom thought I was that’s for sure. I was young, excited and naïve. The thirteenth of September was on a Monday, the weekend before mom had come home for the weekend. When mom came home I had to act saintly but I think she often suspected that I was bringing boyfriends over. Like the time she saw a cigarette filter under our couch. It was from the weekend before; my friend Linda had brought her boyfriend over to come chill with us. Muzi, Linda’s boyfriend, was way older than Linda and he had a Navy-blue BMW 318i Matchbox.

I must admit that Muzi was cute and he had a big reputation of being a gangster in the streets. Apparently he had shot a guy dead for speaking to his girlfriend while he went inside a close by shebeen to buy some takeaway booze for them. Linda was one of my two friends who lived in my street and we both went to the same school. She was one of those girls who were obsessed with materialistic staff. If you didn’t have a car, a business, a reputation and money or power, you never stood a chance with Linda. Me and Sphokazi were different and Linda believed that we lived in the fantasy world. Unlike her, Sphokie and I believed in love and we both were dating boyfriends our age and we were happy with them.

So on Monday, mom left early in the morning for work as usual. At noon Linda came all excited that she got an invite to Muzi’s party. Linda was over the moon because she was finally going to be “Mrs Party”. It was all that she went on about.

Me and Sphokie refused. Firstly Muzi had a violent reputation, so we knew that there was obviously going to be plenty of gangsters, drinking and that meant when they got drunk they were obviously going to want us to do something we didn’t want. Linda persuaded us to go, saying that Muzi would obviously protect us should anything happen. She even made Muzi call us himself to beg us to go; so we agreed. We spent the rest of the week planning what we were going to wear and our hairstyles.

I didn’t want to wear anything that was too revealing; that might later have troublesome implications for me. Linda suggested I wear my black tight dress with my matching black Airmax sneakers. One thing I liked about Linda was that she had good taste for fashion and we shared that in common. We spent most of our time arguing about a lot of stuff but one thing we always agree on was fashion; she had style.

Linda was wearing black tights with her grey crop top and her black leather boots. She looked fierce with her makeup on and violet lipstick. Sphokie was rocking tight jeans that revealed her behind; one the reasons she had more than 2000 friends on Facebook, mostly men. We chilled at my house, waiting for Muzi to come fetch us. He had said at 8 p.m. and it was now 9 o’clock. Linda wasn’t having it at all.

When Muzi eventually came it was about 10 p.m. We heard him by the music that was balsting from his car playing it Ganyani’s “Touch the sky”. He came in and apologised for being late. We said it was okay but Linda wasn’t pleased; she didn’t even want to go anymore. Muzi had to beg her in front of us – it was so dramatic. Linda eventually melted and we locked the house, got into the car, with Linda in the front seat, and we left for the party.

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Tell us: Why do you think some girls love to date a “bad boy”? Have you ever dated a “bad boy” or “bad girl”?