I couldn’t sleep that night; I kept tossing and turning, worried about the outcome of my results. A lot of pressure was on me from my family in a way that it suffocated me. I kept thinking of the lectures I’d get from them instead of sympathy and encouragement. The next day finally came, the day the matric results came out. The day you get known if you’re intelligent or not. The day people see the future for you because of your results.

I had to fetch my statement at school that day at 8:30. Before getting out of bed I said a short prayer to God, asking Him to remember me and not forsake me. As I got ready to go to school my phone vibrated, signalling an SMS. I checked and it was from this thing I saw on TV where I had SMSed to get my results quicker. I opened the text with my heart beating so fast. Well after a short glimpse at the text, I lifted my head with a smile.

I made it, with a Diploma.

I was expecting an A but my results were not that bad. If I’d pushed hard on my Maths and Physics I bet I could’ve gotten the results I wanted. I ran outside to find my grandma and she was busy sweeping the yard. I broke the news to her.

“Kokwani ni pase hi Diploma.” My grandma ululated from hearing the word pass. She was so proud of me. She quickly took out her phone and asked for me dial my Dad’s number but it went straight to voicemail, as always. We tried my Mum but it rang unanswered, she was probably at work. We ended up calling my grandpa who also stayed in Johannesburg, luckily he answered.

Grandma broke the news to him. They were both so proud. My grandpa even said she knew I’d do well all along. Instead of that making me smile, I suddenly broke down. The fact that my grandparents believed in me so much scared me; it added on the pressure. My grandma thought they were tears of joy. She hugged me so tight that it made me calm. My grandma was a sweetheart for sure. I left her to carry on with her chores and I headed inside to finish up.

I wore a pink dress my mum bought while I visited them back in Jozi. I said bye to gran and caught a taxi to school, it was three villages away. It was pretty far too comparing how large the yards are in Tzaneen. I finally got to school with my heart beating as if it was about to pop out of my chest. I could see other learners waiting outside the office, chatting and some nervous as hell. I made my way to the office, with all of them now staring at me. Well they always did that mainly because of the way I walked.

Ever since I was transferred from a school in Johannesburg to attend in the rural areas, the kids there thought I was a snob. I was transferred because of my fees. My parents struggled to pay my fees since I was in primary school. When I got to high school it became worse. By that time mum was working as a maid somewhere in Buccleuh and dad worked in a firm that paid out pretty good. Problem was that he had another family that he thought we didn’t know of and debts were just his best buddies. I seemed to be always the last thing on his priorities and was even used to it.

My outstanding fees were much of a problem when it came to writing exams. I was always kicked out of school and I would stay home for days. I remember staying indoors avoiding being asked by the neighbours why I wasn’t at school. I’d always think that our neighbours were noisy but they actually cared. My grandfather always came to my rescue most of the time. He would do that complaining about how deadbeat my dad was and it didn’t bruise me at all because I thought the same thing too. My grandfather got tired of my dad’s responsibilities; that’s when they sent me to Tzaneen to attend a government school.

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Tell us what you think: Do you think kids from separated parents suffer more from the absence of the parent?