The stench of medicine fills Ward 18 in Hospital View. And tears fall from Itumeleng’s mother, as she stares at her son’s unconscious body.
“He’s stable, but his mind is not with us. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do. Now we wait,” says the doctor, and he leaves the ward.
Back at school, in drama class, last period, Mpumi locks her phone. “Yoh hayi! Itumeleng is the new trend.”
Cindy looks down, “What are they saying now?”
Mpumi applies her lip gloss, “The usual, some pray for him while others curse him.”
“I pray for him!” says Ntokozo (a classmate).
Mpumi looks at her. “Look at you, wasting your prayers on a man. Why won’t you pray for beauty instead? Because your face, darling, desperately needs some.” The class laughs.
Mpumi approaches Ntokozo, “Just because your singing and dancing videos gained you a few thousand followers, you think you can hang with us? Sisi, we don’t need ugly girls like you. Your followers are doing you a favor…your brand won’t last, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Ntokozo is cut deep by Mpumi’s words. She dashes out of the class in tears.
The bell rings, screaming that it’s after school, and Cindy checks the coast is clear outside while Mpumi looks under the doors of the smoky toilets to see if there’s anyone left.
“The coast is clear, kanti why are you so jumpy these days?” Mpumi asks and lights a spiff.
Cindy hesitates, “It’s about Itumeleng…what if he dies?”
“Then he dies. We aren’t the ones who attacked him, so it’s not on us.” Mpumi puffs twice and traps.
“But we’re the ones who lied about him in the first place,” Cindy buries her ashamed face in her palms.
Mpumi grows irritated, “Heyi! I asked you if you were sure about this and you agreed, now deal with it.” Mpumi pauses for a moment, “Look, we only have one job, and that’s to keep our mouths shut: can you do that?”
Cindy nods, “Yes, I can.”
The girls finish smoking the heavy joint and leave. Moments later, Ntokozo lowers her feet from the seat and stops the recording on her phone. She wipes her face then also leaves.
That same afternoon, Stacy arrives at the hospital. She walks inside Ward 18 and finds Itumeleng’s mother sitting next to him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll come back later,” says Stacy.
“Nonsense. Grab a chair and come sit next to me.”
Stacy obeys.
“What’s your name?”
She takes a deep breath, “My name is Amohelang Stacy Leshwa.”
“Nice to meet you, you can call me Mme Lesedi. You’re a beautiful young woman.”
Stacy blushes, “Thank you.”
Mme Lesedi beams, “You’re welcome. Are you my son’s girlfriend?”
Stacy chokes, “Uhmm, no, ma’am. I’m not his…we’re not seeing…I mean, dating.”
Mme Lesedi chuckles, “It’s OK, just breathe. I’m only curious to know what did he do to deserve your time and attention? I mean, you could be anywhere else, but here you are.”
Stacy smiles, “It all started in Grade 10 when we first met at the school library. I was walking in and he was going out. I won’t forget the connection I felt when we first locked eyes. It felt so weird, it was like, I knew him or something. But I passed and did my best not to look back.”
They both laugh and she continues, “For two weeks we would greet and pass one another. Until this one Tuesday, where I lost track of time and woke up late. I was a mess, my head was everywhere. I even forgot my lunch money and now I was starving because I had left without eating breakfast. That’s when your son showed up. It was like he knew I was hungry, because he was like. ‘Would you like something to eat?’ and I agreed. So he bought food and we sat at what is now our sacred spot in the library and never stopped talking.”
Stacy looks at him, “When I saw his blood on my hands, that’s when I realised how much I care about him…you raised a good son.”
Later on that night, Ntokozo sits in her bed and plays the recording she made in the toilets. Mpumi and Cindy’s voices come out clearly. She smiles and presses share, and the school Facebook page blows up.
Tell us: What do you think will happen next?