In the end, we don’t go to the doctor.

Mama says, “I was sick in my stomach too, Tumi. Today as I got to work. So maybe we both have a stomach bug. Let’s wait and see if we’re better in a few days.”

I am relieved to hear that. But I think I must check for myself if I am definitely pregnant. I know they have testing kits at our chemist. I’ve seen them there. Yes, I will get a testing kit and then I will know for sure. And then I will tell Vincent and my mom. I must get this part over with so I can stop feeling so confused and crazy.

Vincent phones me just then. “Hi, beautiful,” he says. But he sounds worried. “Are you okay? You looked a bit stressed out at school today. And Victoria tells me you weren’t your usual cheerful self. What’s the problem, baby?”

“We’ll talk about it at the weekend,” I say. “Down at the river.”

Now he sounds even more worried. “Oh Tumi, you aren’t going to dump me, are you? Have you met someone else?”

“Of course not!”

“’Cause I’m telling you, beautiful, I don’t know how I would go on without you.”

It is so lovely for me to hear that. And surely that just goes to prove that he will stand by me? That he will man up and be a good daddy to his little daughter. Or his little son.

I say, “Vincent, I promise, I couldn’t go on without you either.”

“So what is it, Tumi? Just please don’t tell me that you’re pregnant!” he says. But now he is laughing as if that is the craziest, most impossible idea.

So I say nothing. I just laugh along with him. Lying again, by keeping quiet.

“Okay then. I’ll wait till the weekend. Love you. Bye!” he says, the way he always does.

“Love you too.”

Mama and I sit together after supper. And she shows me how to make a little traditional outfit, a really small size. It looks absolutely adorable. I can just imagine my little Beyonce wearing it. How cute she would look!

Mama says, “This assignment of yours is going to be great, Tumi. I bet Mr Ndwapi will give you high marks. But what we really need is a baby.”

For a moment I feel confused and panicky. Why is Mama saying that?

But no – it’s nothing to worry about. Mama continues. “If we could put this outfit on a baby and take a few photos, that would be perfect to hand in with your assignment. ‘Rad and Trad’ – I really like that name!”

I remember about Naledi’s baby and tell Mama. “I’ll take the outfit there tomorrow,” I say. “I’m sure Naledi will be happy to see me.”

Next day I have the outfit in a packet. The beads are clicking together as I walk. But first I go to the chemist. Yes, there they are: a whole shelf full of pregnancy test kits. Just then Mrs Dube, Mama’s friend from church, walks by. So I pretend I am looking at body lotions instead. I leave the chemist without buying anything. And then I head for Naledi’s place.

Naledi lives in a backyard shack with her baby. Her grandmother threw her out of the house when she found out she was pregnant. Her grandmother said she was already struggling to feed and clothe five grandchildren on her pension and very little else. So there was no money for a sixth person.

I wonder how things are going for Naledi.

* * *

Tell us what you think: How are things likely to be going for Naledi?