Whenever I looked around at mamu’Yandichaza, all I saw were broken hearts. We were all there to escape from our aching hearts. What we failed to realise, though, was the fact that we were all carrying what we were trying to escape from. All those people who surrounded me were hurt by love, and the only thing that was meant to protect us was hurting us.

The difference between me and the people around me at mamu’Yandichaza was that I was the one who wronged the one I loved. I did not appreciate what I had. Zoleka, on the other hand, had given her all in her marriage and did all she could, just to keep her house together. Joe was still with his wife. He was not leaving, and he was not giving up. Yes, he was ignoring her, but he slept next to his wife each night, and even though they were not talking, what mattered was the fact that he was still with her, and if that was not love, then I don’t know what is.

I had failed in love, and I had failed in life. I was estranged from my family, and I had no friends or love. The urine had been substituted with tears on many days. I would cry myself to sleep on most nights, and the alcohol was not working. The broken heart that I was trying to escape from was inevitable.

One day, I was walking the same path I used to walk from mamu’Yandichaza to get home. That day I was much soberer than on the others, and I noticed a brown bag that was sitting along the way. I did not pay attention to it because, in the township, everywhere was a dumpsite. But as I was getting further away from the brown bag, I heard cries emanating from it. I was puzzled, so I went to look at it and, inside, I found a small fully clothe being.

The shock I experienced because of what I saw turned me sober. “What kind of mother would leave their baby in the street?” I thought. I then let go of the bag and walked away, but the baby began crying again. I could not ignore those cries, and I could not ignore those cute little feet and hands I had just seen and touched. The cry ripped the heart out of my chest, and I knew I could not just leave the child there, so I did the most stupid thing ever and took the child home with me.

The baby kept crying all night that night, and I could not sleep. I knew I had to take him to Zoleka to help me. She was a mother and she would know what to do. The cries alone were enough to wake her up, and I did not even knock because she was already at the door when we arrived. Her motherly instincts had kicked in. She took the child from my hands and embraced him with the warm, loving touch of a mother. Her eyes lit up as soon as she laid her gaze upon him. Her smile was wider than usual, and she was different from the Zoleka I knew. She was no longer Zoleka the drunkard, but she was Zoleka the mother.

The baby stopped crying as soon as Zoleka held him, and he began to giggle along with her. I had never seen people fall in love with each other right in front of my eyes before. I knew that you may travel the whole looking for the best foods it can offer, the best company it can give, and the best love you can experience, but that you could never compare that to a mother’s love. I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I watched them, and that time it was not a tear of despair and sorrow, but it was a tear of joy and enlightenment.

Tell us: What do you think having this baby in their lives is going to mean for the man and Zoleka?