Later that day, as I was entering my township, the rain cooled down, making it a partly cloudy afternoon. The weather made it possible for the nyaope boys to gamble by the mini tuckshop. Whenever I asked them what it was that fascinated them about gambling, they always said ‘siya gereza sister’, meaning we are hustling sister. Near the shop, there was a tavern called Maskhosana’s Tavern. The Blues and Jazz music always played there, and it got into the spirit of the old men that went there. They would always say things like ‘waar was jy?’ as they danced till they dropped.

“Molo ntombi,” Ma Skhosana, who was the owner of the tavern, said to me as I walked past.

“Yebo ma,” I replied with a soulful spirit.

The children in my street always played indigenous games, especially ‘Ama Tin’, at that time, so there was no way I was going to walk past them alive. I had to move on the side of the street, and allow them to occupy the rest of the street. The rain had left the grovel road soggy with mud, but the children still enjoyed playing on it. There was a flood of water ahead of me, all thanks to our government, which never bothered to install drains, so I had to take the longer route. But, if it was not for my painful leg, I would have jumped over it like a gymnast.

“She’s only in private school because of her fair skin,” I heard Buhle say while talking to her friend. She was inhaling the drugs that were between her two fingers.

Buhle was 10 years older than me. She was self-employed, and she sold Amagwinya for a living. With the income she made, she never consider feeding her two children. She preferred to spend it all on drugs. Only if she could wake up, smell the coffee, and see how smart her eldest son, Muzi, was. She would invest in his education, and who knows, he might be a scientist, or the first to find a cure to cancer and HIV.

As I was walking, I did not let Buhle’s comment break me, so I held my head up high and continued walking as if nothing happened. Gogo Sophie worked very hard to pay for my school fees, and I did the same too.

While I was walking, the dog from my street started barking, which meant I was very close to home. But, the dog’s bark was very different that time, and I wonder why. So, when I finally reached home, I went through the front door and quickly sat down on the couch. I was in a lot of pain, and I needed to treat my wound.

“My child, what happened? Did you fall?” Gogo Sophie asked, hesitating when she saw my knee. “Let me go get the Dettol and water, okay.”

After fetching the Dettol, Gogo Sophie gently removed the scarf from my knee. It was partially attached to my skin, so if Gogo Sophie removed it roughly, it was going to take a piece of my skin with it. On her last wipe of the wound, I stood up, took out the test results, and showed them to her. She could not believe her eyes, and she was so excited that she even kissed me on my cheeks.

“Well done, my baby,” Gogo Sophie said.

“Uhm, Gogo Sophie, I also spoke up, you know, about the racism and colourism at school. I just hope that everyone will see how much of a division these two words cause,” I said with a smile.

Gogo Sophie could not believe her ears, and her face lit up with joy and excitement. My face, on the other hand, was filled with Roseberry lipstick all because of Gogo Sophie’s excited kisses. Gogo Sophie wrapped the bandage around my knee again and kissed it, just like how she used do when I was a toddler. I then went to my room and changed into the yellow dress that Gogo Sophie had bought for me on my 13th birthday. It had been a while since I had worn the dress, but luckily, I still had the body for it. I then went into the living room and took my school bag so I could begin writing my homework.

“Mntwamami, I guess we will have to eat pap and water again, business did not go well today,” Gogo Sophie said with an uneasy soul.

“No worries, Gogo Sophie, you’ve always taught me to appreciate everything that I get, be it big or small,” I said with a positive spirit. I then went to hug Gogo Sophie from the back, and I definitely felt a mother’s love.

After a few hours of writing my homework, I packed my school uniform and piled it up on the wooden chair next to my bed. Gogo Sophie used to tell me how much my mother used to love sitting on that chair and embracing her beauty. One thing I knew for sure about my mother was that she had short hair, and she loved it. That was why my father, Sfiso, loved her. She loved her body too, and only she defined it. But the thing that hurt my heart the most was the fact that I did not have a single image of my father. But I hoped that, wherever he was, he was fine.

When I was done packing my school uniform, I went back to the living room to eat supper.

“Gogo Sophie, do I really not belong here in this world?” I asked as I was sitting down on the chair in living room.

“Whoever told you that doesn’t use their brain properly,” Gogo Sophie said. “How many times must I tell you, be it black, blue, yellow, white, or even orange, you are just beautiful the way you are.”

“At least I spoke up, and I hope they learned something,” I said, facing down my plate filled with pap and water. “Oh, Gogo I forgot to add sugar in this water, do you want some?”

“No, no, no, thank you my child, I’m fine. Mama Pretty came this morning with jamtarts, and they were very sweet. I had enough of sweet things today,” Gogo said, laughing at herself for not telling Mama Pretty that her jamtarts were not that good that day.

“Oh, Gogo Sophie,” I said, and after I finished eating and washing the dishes, I went along to restore energy. “Good night, Gogo Sophie.”

“Sleep well, Thandeka,” Gogo Sophie said.

During the dramatic silence of the night, the harmonious barking of the dogs barking in a ritual song, and the sounds of late night trucks driving by, all sang me to sleep.

***

Tell us: What are your thoughts about Thandeka’s attitude towards the financial situation at home?