Mabootsi was about my age and didn’t go to school. His mother always said he would go to school the following year. We called him Mabootsi because he always wore red, plastic rubber boots and walked around the settlement with a stick. He was notorious; everybody in the settlement knew him as the mischievous rascal with whom they didn’t want their little boys to hangout.

Truth is we were all mischievous rascals with a big appetite for adventure; Mabootsi just got labeled the bad influence because he didn’t go to school. He was rebellious in the eyes of our parents. They all ignored the fact that it was his mother’s doing; she just didn’t care. Being a rural Zulu woman she probably thought school wasn’t important.

The bright colours of the rainbow nation did not shine so bright on all of us. Some people still had a backward way of thinking. Not all parents saw education as the key to success; the key that would free them from the shackles of poverty. Duduzane settlement was known as the “Dark City” because we had no electricity and still used “long drop” – pit toilets.

Mission accomplished, I had successfully missed the bus. Walking back home I felt triumphant and looked forward to a day filled with fun and adventure. I ran down the street carrying my bag, took a shortcut cut, passing through Thabo’s place. Thabo was a tall skinny bully I hated and feared with all my heart; but adventure was calling my name so I braved on.

One day while we were happily swimming by the river, Thabo took our clothes and ran away. We had to go back to the settlement in underwear. I can imagine the embarrassment Adam and Eve must have felt after eating the forbidden fruit. My mother was so furious she shouted! She had warned many times against going to the river. I never got a spanking but that night she told me all sorts of stories of how little children had been swallowed by sea monsters. She planted a seed of fear in my heart I never again went to the river.

I walked passed Thabo’s back yard unnoticed I was approaching Izindingo Spaza-shop, it was owned by a Zimbabwean family, the Moyos. Their daughter, Mary, was my girlfriend and the first girl I had ever kissed.

One Saturday while we were playing outside, we snuck in the shadows and kissed. It was an innocent kiss, what we call a “baby kiss” – a smooch. I can’t remember how it felt like but after the kiss I told her: “Hmm, your lips taste delicious,” she smiled and blushed. Mary had the rare ability to smile with her eyes, and when she smiled, my whole world stopped and she became the center of my universe.

Mabootsi was standing near Izindingo Spazashop. As I approached him he had the cutest mischievous smile on his face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” he asked as he walked towards me.

He had on blue shorts, a red printed t-shirt, and his favourite – if not only – oversized rubber boots. He had big round eyes and the cutest boyish face ever. He was shorter than me.

“I missed the bus,” I lied.

“You’re lying,” he laughed excitedly.

He carried my bag and walked me back home. My mom must have seen us approaching because I saw her face explode.

“Nonku, what are you doing here?” she screamed.

Standing near the gate, I lied and said I missed the bus.

“You didn’t miss bus!” she screamed.

She was running tap water, going about her daily business of house duties. She looked up, a bit relaxed.

“Luckily your father is still around so he will drive you to school, it’s still a bit early,”

My dream of a perfect fun and adventure filled day faded right in front of my eyes.

We all knew that if you missed the bus, Baba was the second option. It was still early; how could I have been so stupid? I should have waited at the bus stop and killed time till late. I kicked my bag, I felt angry and defeated. My mom stared in astonishment and screamed: “I knew it was all a lie, you just didn’t want to go to school!”

She walked towards me and cupped my little face in her big, wet hands and lowered herself. Our eyes collided and her gentle eyes were filled with worry.

“Nonkululeko, how can you deny yourself the opportunity to learn and better your life, my son? Education is the key that will unlock a golden world of opportunities; without education you are nothing. Look at me; you think I enjoy being a domestic worker? Your father and I are working hard to ensure that you have a brighter tomorrow.”

I felt guilty and defeated I wanted to tell her. I know, Mama, it’s just that I didn’t feel like going to school today, I wanted to say. But guilt had killed my sense of reasoning. I just stood there and cried. She reached out and hugged me in a tight embrace. She let go and walked into the house to talk to my father. Mabootsi, who had been watching the spectacle, just stood there; his cute boyish face looked sad and disappointed.