Outside in the hallway, Busi’s mother held the lunchbox of treasures under her arm.
“Dumisile, I wish you had called us, about how you felt,” she said to my mother.
My mother shrugged. “I didn’t think you were interested.”
“We were good friends. I would have listened. We could have helped.”
“You could have offered help. You saw what a state I was in,” replied my mother.
“I’m sorry I didn’t help.”
“I’m sorry my daughter stole from you.”
“She apologised,” said Busi’s mother. “She’s a child and has learnt a good lesson.”
“Let’s put this all behind us,” piped up Busi’s father jovially. “Both of you come and spend the weekend with us!”
A look of horror flashed across Busi’s face.
“Thank you for the invitation, but this has been a difficult week. I think Lindi needs to come home this weekend. Perhaps another time. Goodbye, Ndudu. Goodbye, Khanyi,” said my mother.
Then she put her arm around me, and walked me away.
* * * * *
I stayed home for a week, and when my mother brought me back to school we went to see Mrs Watson.
“I have thought long and hard about this situation,” said Mrs Watson. “Lindiwe you do understand that stealing is wrong and will result in immediate expulsion from this school?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“However, in this particular case, I think that it’s not just a simple case of theft. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘acting out’?”
It sounded like something we did in drama. “I don’t think so,” I replied.
“Acting out is when teenagers express difficult feelings through behaviours rather than words. I think you have been feeling lonely and disconnected from your family, being at boarding school. Am I right?”
I thought of my mother at home, sewing late into the night. “Yes.”
“And I think your stealing is a cry for help.”
I didn’t quite understand what she meant. But at least she wasn’t expelling me. “Maybe you’re right,” I said.
“So… my decision is that you won’t be expelled from the school. You can stay on.”
I sighed with relief, and saw my mother’s eyes fill with tears.
“Thank you, Mrs Watson,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for your understanding,” said my mother.
“But there are going to be some changes. Firstly, Lindiwe, I am increasing your travel allowance so you can go home to your family every second weekend. Secondly, I want you to have some counselling. Instead of bottling up your feelings, you need to learn how to talk about issues that are worrying you, and to work out why you are doing things that you wouldn’t normally do. Are you willing to do this?”
“Definitely,” I replied.
“Mrs Malusi, do you give permission?” Mrs Watson asked my mother.
“Absolutely.”
“Good, then I will get the school counsellor to set up an appointment with you, Lindiwe.”
Mrs Watson came around from her desk and looked me squarely in the eyes. I noticed bits of powder coming off her face, and wrinkles next to her watery blue eyes.
“Lindiwe, you’ve been given a second chance. Use it well.”
“I will. I promise, I will.”
* * * * *
Since then my life has improved. I feel happier now that I can go home more often. I have a new room-mate, a lovely girl named Adla, from Kenya. She often comes home with me, and on the weekends that I stay at school, we have fun playing table tennis, watching movies and swimming on hot days.
I go to all my counselling sessions, and find solace in sharing my story. My counsellor has encouraged me to make an ‘honest’ treasure box where I keep small gifts that people have given me, photos of Dad and objects from nature that give me a feeling of peace and security. My box is filled with all kinds of treasures: pinecones, interesting stones, birthday cards, a bracelet Adla brought me back from Kenya, and lots of photos.
My relationship with Busi and her family has never healed, and my mother and I have never taken up their invitation to spend a weekend with them.
I am sad to have lost my childhood friend, but I have had a new beginning, and a bright future awaits me.
* * *
Tell us: Do you agree with the Principal that Lindi was ‘acting out’? What do you think of the Principal’s treatment of Lindi?
The End
