It had been more than three hours and none of the cars that passed had stopped. I was scared that it would get dark while I waited there. God knows what the vultures of the night would do to me. The two men who did as they pleased with my body could come after me again.

After another hour of me standing hopelessly by the roadside, a big truck stopped. A coloured driver peered through the window.

“Waar gaan jy?” (Where are you going?) he asked.

“Cape Town. Could you give me a lift?” I asked, guessing at what he had said his language.

“Jy’s koel – gorgeous. You can jump in,” he said with a smile.

I had nothing to carry; everything had been stolen. I climbed up into the truck. The seats were so comfortable and big. I didn’t tell the driver that I had no transport fare and that I was looking for help.

“You’re lucky. I’m dropping off stuff in Cape Town today,” he said, looking at me. “Usually it’s just Joburg or Durban.”

“Thank God I met you then,” I said with a quick smile.

“You don’t have to pay. I can tell you don’t have any money on you. What’s your name? I’m Sam,” he said, smiling again.

“My name is Rudo.”

I didn’t want to tell this stranger about my life, but I was getting a free ride after all. He promised to help me and get me a place to stay in Cape Town. My phone and diary with all my numbers had been stolen, so my friend waiting for me couldn’t contact me, nor I her. She was also Zimbabwean and the only person I knew in South Africa.

In the truck, on those soft seats, my body began to ease slowly. I began to feel more comfortable. This man had been kind to pick me up. He said he was in his mid-fifties and divorced – though I really didn’t buy that part because he didn’t look at me when he said that. He was old enough to be my father, or even older, and he had a big belly.

We stopped at a Caltex garage and he bought me a pie, cooldrink, and some toiletries. But before I ate I wanted to clean up. He handed me a pair of trousers and a top that was in a plastic bag behind his seat. Whose clothes were those? I wondered as he directed me to the restroom.

I took a quick shower and changed into the new clothes. When I looked at myself in the mirror I could see a beautiful, sixteen-year-old, young lady, but memories of waking up in the bush with pain between my legs, and blood, flashed back.

Sam was already wondering what was taking so long. I found him outside and he handed me my food. I ate hungrily. I hadn’t eaten anything for nearly a day and I could feel my stomach welcoming this yummy food with great joy. I last had a pie when my parents were still alive, when I was eleven. All this time, as I ate, Sam was looking at me with a smile. He didn’t even touch his food.

***

Tell us what you think: Has Rudo found her ‘Good Samaritan’?