Lonwabo stares deeply into the eyes of his enemy, Mandla, who has caused Lonwabo’s face to be battered and bruised. Their English teacher sits, his head hanging down, almost dozing off. And Lonwabo waits for a reaction from Mandla – because he has secretly shoved a note into Mandla’s pencil case. ‘After school’s after school,’ the note reads.

The note is found, the phrase catches Mandla’s attention. I know this comes from that bastard called Lonwabo. Empty threats! he thinks to himself, furious. He lifts his face and, locking eyes with his enemy, shows Lonwabo his fist, just as the bell rings for the end of the day.

“It’s going down!” Lonwabo shouts and is cheered on by his friends.

His classmates excitedly rush to pack away their belongings. Money is passed around, to be collected by Ndaba. Lonwabo has made a bet with his classmates: he has promised to beat up Mandla after school. He stands on the table to make the announcement.

“Listen here everyone! I need your attention. Today is the day that the great Mandla falls. Even if you guys are scared of him, I am not scared! Today I will show you that he is just a weak boy – and not a man!”

Lonwabo needs to prove to his peers that he is not a boy, but a man. And come winter he will prove that one hundred per cent by going to initiation school.

The crowd is pumped up and can’t wait to see some action. Everyone rushes off to the school field, anticipating the fight, but Mandla takes his time to get there.

Lonwabo encourages the crowd to chant: “Loser! Loser! Loser!”

Mandla finally arrives at the field, puts his bag down and takes off and folds his school shirt.

“Boo! Boo!” the crowd shouts.

“The mighty Mandla!” Lonwabo taunts him sarcastically.

“You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, small boy. I am going to embarrass you today.”

Lonwabo quickly runs straight at Mandla and gives him a punch in the face without him expecting it.

“Yoh!” the crowd shouts, but Mandla retaliates fiercely with an even bigger punch that brings Lonwabo to his knees. Silence pervades – but only for a few seconds. Then everybody screams for “Mandla,” the champ once again.

The crowd is excited for the champion, and follow him, leaving Lonwabo on the ground, defeated.

The young man is frustrated, depressed even. It has been one embarrassment after the other. Humiliated, he runs off home.

“Lonwabo! What is your problem? You come home late when you know I have to go to work,” his mother immediately attacks him.

“I was busy Ma.”

“Look at me when you speak to me.”

“We were kept until late Ma.”

“Is that what it looks like?”

“What are you talking about Ma?”

“Lonwabo you got into a fight at school. You have bruises and a swollen eye. It will be blue tomorrow.”

“I just bumped into the door Ma. Relax.”

“Actually, I won’t say much more because I am running late for work. But know this: I am deeply disappointed. As of today you are grounded and for the rest of today you will be locked indoors till I come back from work!”

Furious, she leaves for work and locks the door as she had promised.

Lonwabo starts sobbing in fury and frustration. He cannot fathom how life has been so unfair to him. I don’t know my father. My mother is treating me like a little boy. Does she not know that I am now a man? His thoughts churn and churn.

As he is sitting and thinking, his sobs now easing off, there is a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” he calls.

“It’s me, Simbone.”

Now his frustration is complete: Lonwabo fumes that he can’t open the door for his friend, and he is too embarrassed to let him know that he is grounded, like a little kid.

“Eh maan – sorry. I am sick,” he lies.

“Oh come on Lonwabo. Let me come in instead then.”

“Sorry Simbone, but really, I must stay inside with this sickness. Come talk to me at the window.”

“Sure, my bra. I’ll come to the window.”

“Sure Simbone,” Lonwabo says and coughs a bit.

“Nyan, nyan – you must really be sick my friend. Eish, sorry about what happened earlier. It was crazy to try and fight that brute. Are you sure you are sick and not just skaam about the fight?”

“Eish no. It’s just a little flu.”

“Forget about it – come and have a drink. Let’s drown your sorrows!”

Lonwabo can’t resist: “Ya, I like that idea mfundini. Let’s bounce. But you gotta help me get out of here. Ma locked me while I am kinda sick cos we … er … lost the other key.”

Simbone helps his buddy to loosen the burglar bars and break out of the house, and they walk to a tavern a distance away so that their elders won’t recognise them. The two laugh and make fun of people on the way, kick stones and chase goats that are wandering about. But when the boys arrive at the tavern suddenly they are shy to enter, and push each other about until they both decide to enter at once.

“So what do you think we should drink?”

“I think we should drink a cider,” says Lonwabo.

“Ay, ciders are for sissies. We need to act like men and drink beer. Look around you dawg, no-one here is drinking ciders.”

“Eish Simbone, if we drink beer we are going to get very drunk.”

“Nah dawg, no argument. I am getting us Black Label.” Simbone goes to the bar and gets the Black Labels.

The two drink and entertain themselves with a bit of pool whilst listening to music from the juke box. Lonwabo and Simbone drink like there is no tomorrow. Darkness falls and they are oblivious; it is way past their curfew but now that they are drunk they don’t know or care. They start misbehaving and starting fights.

“Ey small boys! What are you guys doing here?” complains the tavern owner.

“We are here to drink!” Lonwabo responds, bold with alcohol, and laughs at the tavern owner.

“This is no place for small children. Go home!” the man yells, threatening them.

They both laugh and stumble their way out of the tavern.

Out in the cool air it then dawns on them that they are in a lot of trouble. Through the fog of alcohol they realise they have to get home, fast. Drunkenly they hurry along and Lonwabo only hopes that his mom is working overtime.

When he arrives, he is afraid to even knock on the door. He taps softly, timidly. There is no answer, so he knocks again, a bit louder this time. Still no answer. He slides down against the door and sits, his head lolling back. Sleep is about to overwhelm him.

The door opens abruptly and he topples backward into the room.

“May the good Lord have mercy on you Lonwabo!” yells his mother, a sjambok in her hand. She begins to lash him, again and again. Lonwabo leaps up, screaming, runs to his room and locks the door.

Grace, Lonwabo’s mother, is deeply disheartened about her son. She stands at the door outside Lonwabo’s room.

“Open this door!”

Lonwabo does not respond

“What exactly do you want Lonwabo? Am I not doing enough for you? You keep disappointing me and causing trouble and quite frankly, I am sick of it!”

Silence. She realises that he won’t open the door nor respond and goes back to the kitchen.

Lonwabo pulls his covers over his head.

*****

The next morning Grace goes to Lonwabo’s room to apologise – she realises she has over-reacted – and to see if they can resolve their issues through talking openly and sensibly. But there is silence. Lonwabo will not speak to his mother.

After standing at his door for almost thirty minutes without a response Grace begins to worry. Has he got alcohol poisoning, she wonders. Had a seizure? She panics, now only able to think the worst about what could have happened to her son.

She rushes around the house to his window and knocks – still no response. Looking around wildly, Grace finds a brick, dashes it against the window and the glass shatters into little pieces, scattering like cockroaches.

She opens the frame and jumps in, and gasps: what she sees petrifies her. Lonwabo lies on the floor with foam coming out of his mouth. She rushed over, kneels next to him, puts her hand on his chest. He is still breathing! Has he overdosed on poison? What is wrong with him?

“Help! Help! Somebody help me!” Grace screams, running out into the road.

Her neighbours come running out of their houses. Mr Ndosi from next door rushes to get his car and quickly four of them struggle to pick up Lonwabo’s slumped body and place it in the vehicle. With Grace crying beside him, Mr Ndosi races to the hospital.

***

Tell us what you think: Is Lonwabo’s frustration and behaviour understandable? If so, why?