“Uze uqaphele sana lwam, lingakuginyi iRhawuti,” her mother said, instructing her daughter to be vigilant and not let the city swallow her whole.

“Oh, Mama, please relax. You have been saying that for the past hour,” Siphe replied.

The rooster crowed signalling the beginning of a new day and the cows responded with a ‘moo-oo.’ The sun rays started to peep into the small windows of the clay houses with grass roofs. The sheep and goats were waking up and jumping around the kraal. Siphe felt that all of this nature was reflecting her own mood. She had been up for the past three hours preparing for her trip.

It was the 2nd of January and Siphe Ncoko was up to tick off one of her new year’s resolutions. At 25, she had never lived in any place other than her rural village, Ntlazana. At the age of 18, she had dropped out of school to assist on her family’s farm. They had huge kraals and large maize gardens. Each day they needed to milk the cows, lead the lamb to the fields, feed the chickens, take cows to the river, and ride on horses to carry the harvest and make a living.

But things had not been looking good for them because of global warming. She had made a vow to herself: she could no longer bear to see her family suffer; she was old enough to go and look for greener pastures in the city. She would leave her father, mother, and five younger siblings behind her at home.

That morning, her athletic body was covered in a black tracksuit with white stripes on either side, paired with white trainers. Her afro was tied up into a neat, fluffy bun. Her chocolate face was glowing from Vaseline. She had beautifully shaped eyebrows. It is safe to say that she looked stunning, as well as comfortable for the sixteen-hour bus trip to Gauteng.

The whole family rode on an old van with no canopy to take Siphe to the bus station. She had her small brown sports bag with her clothes and toiletries. She looked like someone just going away for a weekend, but her stay would be determined by how green the pastures were.

They waved goodbye, leaving her amongst other travellers looking like bees searching for their hive. She inhaled and then boarded the bus.

“Welcome to Johannesburg,” the bus driver said after a million hours.

***

She got off at a deadly quiet bus station. How could a city be so quiet, she wondered. But when she looked at her wristwatch, it read “00:35”. She quickly reached into her pocket to dig for her phone and was met by a blank, black screen.

“Yho Bawo! Why didn’t I charge this phone?” she shakily whispered.

Soon she started feeling cold and her whole body was shaking. She moved to a bench by the road and sat down helplessly. She made a silent prayer for God to send help her way.