Sandile hides behind a huge tree trunk and peeks around. The children move in groups.

I must kill or my family dies: He cannot believe he is facing this dilemma.

He crouches behind the tree trunk and cries. He loses track of time. Thirty minutes have passed before he stops crying. There are no more children passing by. He removes the balaclava from his head. He is about to head back home when he sees a chubby boy walking alone. Sandile hides behind the tree trunk. He puts the balaclava back over his face.

“Nkosi, uze ungithethelele (God please forgive me)!” Sandile whispers this prayer as he grabs the panga from his backpack.

The chubby boy sits on a rock right in front of the tree where Sandile is hiding. He takes out a juice bottle from a Spiderman backpack and sips. Sandile hides the panga inside his jacket and tip-toes towards the boy.

The chubby child suddenly turns to face Sandile. With the sweetest smile he says to Sandile, “Are you playing hide and seek, malume?”

Sandile gets no chance to answer because the boy goes on.

“Lucky you, malume. At my school no-one wants to play with me. They call me sdudla (the fat one).”

Sandile is caught off guard. He just stands in front of this child.

“Were you trying to be like Spiderman?” says the boy, and he points to the balaclava over Sandile’s face.

“You must be hot in that big jacket,” continues the chatty child. He looks into Sandile’s eyes, replaces the smile with genuine concern: “Why are you so sad, malume? You also don’t have friends to play with? You are playing hide-and-seek by yourself? I also do that.”

The boy takes a sip from the juice bottle and hands it to Sandile. “Here, take a sip, malume. It is hot so you must be thirsty.”

Sandile looks at this trusting child and thinks of his boy. He realises he has not shown any love to his child. His heart weeps that he is in this situation, that he is even contemplating killing at all.

He takes the juice bottle on offer and sits down next to the chubby boy. He takes off the balaclava and sips.

“Drink it all, malume. I can see you are hot. I’ve had enough. Gogo says I should not drink too much juice.”

The boy takes out a packet of chips and opens it. He takes a handful and passes the packet to Sandile. “Go ahead, malume. Gogo buys me two packets for everyday. If I come back with a packet uneaten she shouts at me.”

Sandile takes a handful of chips. He listens to the boy rambling for a long time. Soon, Sandile finds himself laughing out loud. Meeting this child is bringing his humanity back. It brings him back to the world.

Sandile takes off his jacket and gloves and shoves both into his backpack. He is careful that the panga should not be visible to the chubby boy. But the child catches a glimpse of the tip of the panga wrapped inside the jacket.

“Don’t play with knives, uncle. Gogo will smack you if you play with knives. Look, malume,” the boy says, showing Sandile a small scar on his tiny finger. “I was playing with a knife and cut myself. Gogo first put a plaster over the cut then she smacked my bum.”

Sandile laughs.

“Don’t laugh, malume. It was sore. Thinking of Gogo, I have to go. She will shout if I come back late.”

The boy leaves Sandile with the packet of chips then turns, smiles and waves before he disappears from view. Sandile smiles and waves gratefully too. He feels this meeting with the child has brought back his sanity.

He realises that over past months the only people he has interacted with are Nancy, Naidoo, Xolile and his mom. And that has made his world small and his mind constrained and easily controlled.

It is like a veil has been lifted over from his eyes. Sandile regains his bearings. He knows what he has to do. He heads back home.

“Xolile! Mama!” he calls when he enters the yard.

He tells them everything. They are shocked and don’t believe him at first. So he gets everything – money that Naidoo gave him, panga, balaclava – and drops it on the table.

“Oh dear child of mine!” his mother shakes her head.

“Sandile, my love,” Xolile hugs him.

“So what do we do?” says Sandile.

“This is blood money, my son, you should not spend a penny of it. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Mama, I know,” says Sandile.

***

Tell us what you think: Is a bullied person, like this boy, always able to notice and understand other people’s pain better?