People are arriving from every direction; they have heard Precious scream. Robert runs back up the road but the headlights of a car blind him. The driver screeches to a halt, hooting again and again. People are rushing out of nearby houses.

“Chase him!” Robert hears their screams as he flies down the road, turning the corner and heading up towards his house.

“I know those boys,” says a man as he jumps a fence to join the chase. “It’s Robert and that thief, Mashudu. I know where they both live.”

“We will teach them a lesson which their mothers will not forget for the rest of their lives! You – help this lady and make sure she reaches her home,” he yells back at two women who are helping Vho-Bhele. Then he leads the angry mob up the road to Mrs Mudau’s gate.

Robert is nowhere to be seen.

The crowd are singing umzabalazo songs. They carry all sorts of weapons: shovels, pangas, stones, knives, tyres and petrol, cowhide whips and dzithonga (long, thick sticks).

“Ri do vha vhulaya! Ri toda u vha vhulaya! (We will kill you! We want you dead!)”

Tshiwela is shaking in fear at the sound of angry people outside and peeps through the window. She knows what Robert has done. She hid him when he came running in.

In the clear light from the outside bulb she sees a crowd struggling to break open the gate to her home.

She rushes to her mother’s room, panicked. “Mma, there are lots of people outside! They are breaking down our gate! They will kill us.”

Mrs Mudau can hear the maddened sounds of many, many people outside. It sounds like they have surrounded the house.

“Ndi hone ro fa! (We are dead!) Giving birth to a stone-hearted child! Mmalooo! What did he do now?”

Mother and daughter hear the loud knock at the door. “Open! Let him out. We want to kill him. Now!”

Another voice shouts: “If you don’t let him out then we will set this house on fire. Do you want to die for his sins?”

Mrs Mudau opens the door but Tshiwela shouts, “Please, Mma! Don’t do that. Don’t go out there; it’s not safe for either of us.”

“Oh daughter! They will set this house on fire and the next thing all of us are dead.”

Mrs Mudau steps outside.

“Oh dear people of my village,” she calls loudly. “The boy is not in the house. He went out in the afternoon and he has not returned yet.”

“Open the door, let us see for ourselves,” the crowd yells, moving forward.

“Please. Swear you won’t kill us!” she begs, sobbing.

“There’s nothing I can do to protect you if you don’t let us in,” says the leader. “Just obey and then your life and that of your daughter are spared. Only your son wronged the community, not you.”

“What did he do?”

“He didn’t tell you? He robbed and assaulted a lady.”

She bursts into a wail. “Yowee Mudzimu wanga nthuse (Oh my dear God help me)!”

Then people are pushing her to the side as they rush into the house. There is a crazy noise of furniture being turned upside-down. Madness in the house. As the residents continue to wreak havoc inside her house, Mrs Mudau weeps bitterly.

Tshiwela knows one of the men as a leader of the street committee. She touches him on the hand. She leads him to a corner.

“If I tell you where he is, will people still kill him?” she asks.

“No. Why must they kill him?” he whispers. “Do you know where he is?”

She tells him that he is hiding outside in the tool shelter.

He rushes out and pushes open the shelter. He finds Robert huddled up in the corner and comes out with him. “I have found the young tsotsi,” he announces. “We need to find his friend as well.”

All the people come over and surround him. “We must kill him! We must kill!”

His mother’s wail is heard above the din of chanting people. “Please don’t kill my son!”

Robert is shaking. He can see people carrying pangas, axes and other weapons.

But now a woman is forcing her way through the crowd. She finally manages to get to the centre, to Robert. She raises her hands and commands people to be quiet.

“Please, people, do not lay a hand on this boy,” she begs. “His friend wanted to remove my eyes with a knife but he fought him. He helped me.”

Robert almost faints in relief: somehow, the fact that he stopped Mashudu from stabbing her has made Vho-Bele see the good in him.

People are hot for revenge; they complain and grumble but she only repeats her statement.

Robert breaks down. “People of my village,” he says tearfully. “Forgive me. I am sorry. Since my father passed on…”

Vho-Bhele puts her arms around him as he sobs.

The leader of the street committee shakes his head in defeat and sympathy for the boy.

“People, you can all return to your homes,” he orders.

The villagers express a mixture of dissatisfaction and empathy, but one by one leave the scene.

When all the people are gone, and Mrs Mudau is washing Vho-Bhele’s grazes, Robert dares to look at Precious. She is staring at him. She shakes her head.

He feels a deep, fiery pain rush through his heart.

“Precious,” he says. “I am sorry.”

“Please, don’t talk to me,” she says, pain and disappointment written on her face. “Not now.”

*****

The term has started again. Robert is studying hard. He still hasn’t heard from Precious. The garden his sister and himself are tending is growing well. Soon they will be able to harvest vegetables.

This afternoon he’s in the garden hoeing when his phone rings. At first he worries that it is Mashudu, but then remembers that he has deleted that number from his phone.

It’s Precious. “I am ready to talk to you…” she says.

“Can we meet on Saturday. At Vhalamu’s?”

“Yes. I’ll see you there.”

He can’t believe she has called. He is full of hope.

For the first time since his father died he feels something different. He feels happy.

***

Tell us what you think: Is ‘mob justice’ ever justified? What helps you to continue when someone you love dies?