Smoke from an open fire and many paraffin stoves drifts in the wind. Corrugated iron roofs clatter, doors swing open, and words of different languages flit past. It’s Friday, the end of the month and music fills the air in the township of Protea South as Teboho runs home. He passes a few roaming dogs and then opens the door to the one-room shack he shares with his mother, Pontso. She is busy putting on her red high-heeled shoes.

“Teboho, you are already back, ntjhanyana yaka, my little puppy.”

“Eya Mme, I am back.” he replies.

“Ke kopa o ko, please my son, fill my wash bucket with some water.”

Obediently he takes the dish of his mother’s dirty bath water and empties it in the street as there are no drains here. Even the toilets are long-drop soakaways, and a truck comes to empty the well every two months. Back inside, he puts down the dish and goes straight to the bread tin.

“Mme ke kopa tjhelete, please may I have some money to buy bread.”

Keeping her eyes on the floor, Pontso says quietly, “Teboho hakena tjhelete, I have no money. I couldn’t even cook I had such a horrible headache today.”

Teboho turns his face away and bites his lips. “Ke lapile Mme. I’m hungry.”

“Wear your jersey and come with me. Look how dirty you are! Nka lelapi la hao o iphumule! What will people say? Hake tsamaya le sekatana se tjhe sa ngwana. Hurry – you’ll find me on the way.”

He locks the front door and runs after Pontso who is going to Lemon Twist, a local tavern.

The township is buzzing, music all over the place. A stylish man wearing pure white All Stars, Dickies trousers and a golf shirt is resting his arm on the bar, drumming his fingers on the wood.

“Die Mamzo. Can I have two Black Labels,” he says.

“OK. That will be twenty-four rand,” answers Masabata, the shebeen queen.

“Die Mamzo – I forgot! Please give me two Stuyvesant and can I borrow a lighter?”

“Hey wena, last time you took my lighter without paying.”

“Ah die Mamzo … OK give me one box of lighters and take your money for the one I never returned ke.”

While the man talks to the shebeen queen, the ‘Sitalented Pantsula’ dance crew enter. Masabata quickly turns her attention to them.

“Oh welcome my boys! So you are ready to create havoc on the dance floor?”

Themba, the group leader, answers, “Yes ma olady.”

“My beautiful customers! I told you that today I’ll have a big surprise entertainment for you! Please welcome the Sitalented Pantsula dance crew!”

The crowd cheers as the dancers go to the floor, wearing their uniform of pure white All Stars, two-tone Dickies with scotch design on the pockets, and scotch hats.

At that moment Teboho enters with Pontso. He sees the Sitalented Pantsula’s and imagines himself dancing with them. One of the dancers, Themba, wraps his arms around his upright torso while his feet move unbelievably fast, shuffling and jumping with movement as the group move in and out of geometric formations.

“Bana ba rona, our children,” remarks Pontso.

Themba catches Teboho watching with fire in his eyes. “Can you teach me one of your moves?” Teboho asks. “Every time I watch you guys performing it’s like I’m seeing magic!”

“Obvious Ntwana maan. That’s how you suppose to feel. Are you a dancer?” Themba says, smiling.

“Yes. I can do three-step. Can I show you?”

Everyone laughs at Teboho as he performs his own three step movement and tries to copy Themba’s movement. Teboho knows, deep down, that there’s something in the dance which makes him feel safe.

“Monday at 4 p.m. come join our rehearsal. I will teach you,” says Themba.

Teboho is very excited at the invitation: “Thanks very much abuti Themba!”

“And your name is?” Themba asks.

“Teboho and I am thirteen years old.”

“OK Tebza – I’ll see you on Monday.”

In the densely filled tavern, while Teboho’s waiting for his mother to give him money to buy bread, he notices a young girl who is about his age, dark in colour, with short hair, and slender. She’s sitting quietly in a corner looking awkward.

“Hello.” The girl smiles at him, twirling her hair with her finger.

“Hello. My name is Teboho. And you are…?”

“I am Kedibone. I have to leave now. My aunt will punish me if she finds out I’m still here. I was only here to watch the performance.”

“Oh, and where do you live?”

“Masabata is my aunt. Nice to meet you Teboho. Bye.”

Teboho watches her as she leaves, his attention only broken when he hears a man’s voice calling his mother.

“Hey Pontso baby! Come and sit here with me.”

Teboho turns and looks at the man who is calling his mother. It’s the same man who comes with Pontso to the one-room shack they share. The man wearing the pure white All Stars, Dickies trousers and a golf shirt, who is sitting on a chair swinging his bottle of Black Label.

“Pontso baby, how about we finish some of the beers at your shack?”

“First give me money to buy chips and bread for Teboho.”

“No problem my love.”

Pontso receives the money and gives it to Teboho to buy something to eat. She goes off with the man.

Teboho watches his mother go and asks himself: Has my mother inherited the sickness of the township? Having to sleep with a man for his money?

“Masabata, can I have chips and a half loaf of bread too?”

“OK Teboho. That will be fifteen rand in total.”

Teboho opens the twenty rand note his mother has given him, hoping to find another note inside (there isn’t) and gives it to Masabata as she hands him his parcel.

“Thanks Masabata.”

He runs back home carrying the parcel carefully so the bread doesn’t lose shape. As he is about to enter the one-room shack, he hears the clinking of bottles and smells the fumes of alcohol. He waits, and hears Pontso and the man breathing heavily. They are having sex. He feels bad about this man because the man has a family of his own and cheats with his mother.

He turns and dissolves into the night, finding his way to a derelict BMW match box that has been in the township for more than ten years. Climbing on top of the boot he sits and puts the parcel at his side. He tries to think about his mother but the smell of the chips and the song in his stomach makes him realise how hungry he is. He wants to eat. The wind is getting colder now so he jumps down from the boot to open the left front door of the car. It doesn’t open so he tries the one at the back; it opens easily. He climbs into the back seat of the car.

As he is about to sit he finds a used condom which flashes him back to his mother, reminds him what she and that man are doing in the house. He takes out a piece of tissue to grab the condom and throws it outside. When his chips and bread are finished he’s tired. He decides to attempt to sleep in the car – his first time. He shivers and battles to fall asleep, but finally does.

As he’s sleeping he dreams of a man approaching him, and hills that are grass covered. The man desperately wants to say something to him, but the dream is disturbed when Teboho is woken by cars banging into each other nearby. He eventually falls asleep again. When he wakes in the early morning, he thinks with distress of his mother and the man she brought home.

Then, never mind her, he thinks. I have something to live for: pantsula and … and now … Kedibone! When will I see her again?

***

Tell us what you think: What does his dream mean? Can he have a true relationship with such a mother?