Mabuza always does this to me. God knows why I decided to trust him this time. I should just go back home and save myself the disappointment of standing here any longer. A taxi drives towards me, hooting.

Msawawa, slender and energetic hangs out of the approaching taxi’s semi-open door “Do you want a ride?” 

I shake my head no once again and the taxi drives past, Msawawa calling for other passengers. This is now the third taxi passing me standing here. I take one last drag from the blunt I’ve been smoking and throw it on the ground. The watch on my wrist reads a few minutes past 12. I’ve been here for almost an hour! 

Mam Josephine slowly approaches from the near distance, her hands bursting with an assortment of snacks like lollipops, crushed biscuits and potato chips. Not to forget fruit, like bananas, pears, apples  and my favourite: peaches. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have cheese puffs today. I definetly would have bought them. 

Nelly’s siblings neglect the soccer ball they were kicking amongst themselves and help Josephine carry her stock to the table, under the mulberry tree. The same mulberry tree I’m shading myself under. She’ll probably repay them with some lollipops and potato chips or with a R5 if she’s feeling generous.  

I should just go back home. The sooner Mom stabs me with her “I told you” so’s the sooner I can forget that I’ve been played a fool once again. Mabuza takes advantage because he knows I want him to like me so bad. I slowly leave the shade and send a greeting back to the faint hello’s of Nelly’s siblings. Hello’s that seem to penetrate my soul and shred it. Almost like the kids are taunting me with their little sharp smiles and piercing brown eyes. Why do I still feel this way after years of embarrassment from Mabuza’s empty promises? 

A snazzy, red Audi emerges from the corner of the Bangani house, hooting non stop. Whoever the driver of the car is probably doesn’t know that one shouldn’t pass the Bangani house causing such chaos. The house is the oldest in the township and it is home to traditional healers and their initiates. ‘Bangani’ is the surname of the woman who originally used to live there. She was a powerful traditional healer untill her untimely passing. We as eMbali zone one residents respect the house as if it is our collective ancestral home.

The car continues to speed in my direction before it comes to a halt next to me. Surely, this can’t be-

“Mabuza at your service! ” He announces, jumping out of the car. 

Everybody give a huge round of applause for father of the year Mr. Samuel Mabuza! He is at my service!

“You’re late” I say, rather than the sarcastic crap I’m actually aching to say. 

He doesn’t respond but rather yanks the gym bag I have over my shoulder, throwing it in his boot”Better late than never”. 

God I hate this man! 

“Lubanzi” he calls already inside the car You’re coming or what? ”