“I wish I could just die!” David exclaimed.

“Why would you say that?” His mother asked with a deep, stern voice.

“What kind of life is this? Where we have to eat pap mixed together with sugar every day? This can’t be life.” He said miserably.

They were sitting by the table, facing each other on wooden chairs. His mother could not answer him. Instead she kept eating her pap. She believed that better days would come and had faith in God.

“My son, have faith. All these things will pass once you have a job.” She said, breaking the silence.

“Look at our house! I don’t even want my friends to visit. It’s pitiful, we don’t even have electricity.” He said, disgusted.

These words hurt his mother. She could not do anything about it, she knew he was right. He stood up and cleared the table. His mother had drifted far away in her mind, lingering on what he had said. She began thinking of ways to escape the life of poverty they lived. But there was none. The only money they had was R1200 from the social grant, and it was barely enough. In fact, it was not enough at all.

David never worked after matric. He has been six years out of school and was still seeking employment. He did a security course in 2011 but never worked as a security guard because he was convicted of insulting someone while under the influence of alcohol. He had to face six months in prison. It was impossible to get a job as a security guard with a criminal record.

His mother was unemployed too, and death was at her toes because she was very old.

“Look at yourself, mother. You are getting old. We can’t even afford life insurance. What am I going to do when you pass away?” He said, while doing the dishes.

His mother felt indolent to answer him, tears were running down her face. She was deeply touched. She was not angry at her son, but rather touched by the words of her son because that was a question she used to ask herself, but never got the answer for it.

She quickly wiped her tears.

David didn’t even notice that she had been crying.

“Sit down my child. I want to tell you something before you go to sleep.” She said.

David sat beside his mother and brought the candle to the wooden table that had a big crack in the centre.

***

Tell us: What do you think his mother will tell him?