It is a Friday evening when the high-rise building in the heart of Sunnyside rumbles to life. A hum of voices echoes through the corridors and keys jiggle against doors before lights spill out of each unit. On the bottom floor, Thandi shoulders the door open and huffs as she wrestles grocery bags into her flat.

“Why do I have to do everything myself?” she grumbles.

She is greeted by her daughter’s giggles. They float carelessly through the cramped rooms to the kitchen. Thandi lowers the plastics and pushes the door closed as she listens more attentively. She walks further into the kitchen. At the edge of the hallway, she cranes her neck to see her daughter in the living room. Amara sits holding her phone above her head, exposing her bare chest to the person on the screen. Thandi’s heart drops at the echo of a male voice.

“What are you doing?!” she yells, storming towards her daughter.

Amara springs up in fright and presses the phone to her chest. Thandi reaches her in two strides and, against Amara’s protests, she snatches the phone away. She looks at the screen and gasps when she sees a man smiling back at her. His joy is quickly replaced by humiliation and he rushes to end the call.

“Who is this?” Thandi turns to her daughter.

Amara reaches for her top and jabs her arms through the sleeves, too ashamed to give an answer.

“Amara, I asked you who this man is. How do you know him?” Thandi begins to shout, “Why would you feel the need to show him your body!? What kind of a man wants to see the body of a 17-year-old child!?”

“He is just some guy.” Amara shrugs.

“I saw a full grown man on this screen!” Thandi waves the phone. “Where is your sense of self-respect? You know what? I…I am taking this phone.”

“Hayi, Ma!” Amara tries reaching for her phone again, “Please don’t do that.”

Thandi pushes Amara back before she continues, “I don’t want you talking to that creep again! It is all these social media and influencers on your phone. They are teaching you to expose yourself to men! Men who are old enough to be your father!”

“I don’t know my father,” Amara snaps.

“You know he died a long time ago but he would be disgusted by your behaviour!” Thandi draws a deep breath. When she finds her voice again, it is barely above a whisper. “I don’t want you to fall pregnant at a young age.”

“Like you did with me?” Amara spits back.

“Yes,” Thandi admits. “Do you think I like living like this? Do you think I like raising you on my own? I am struggling and you’re not making this any easier.”

“OK.” Amara rolls her eyes, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Of course it’s not going to happen again. I am taking this phone.” Thandi points to Amara’s room, “Go read a book or something!”

Amara marches to her room, throws herself on to her bed and begins paging through magazines. Soon she hears pots rattling in the kitchen but she does not want to help her mother cook. The weight of her guilt settles into her bones and makes her lazy. Amara does not leave her room, even when she hears her mother tap on her door and call out for her to “come eat”.

Thandi eventually retreats to eat dinner alone. When she is finished, she washes her dish and goes to bed. Finally, the house goes quiet. When Amara is certain that her mother has fallen asleep, she slides off her bed and tiptoes out of her room. She looks through all of her mother’s usual hiding spots but she cannot find her phone. Feeling defeated, Amara heads back to bed and pulls the covers over her head.

Late at night, Amara is woken by a faint tapping against her window. Curiously, she gets out of bed to peek through the curtain. To her surprise, a familiar face appears on the other side: it is Zolani, the guy she had been talking to on the phone. Her heart races as she pushes the window open.

“Zol, what are you doing here?” she whispers, excitedly.

“I wanted to see you. You weren’t answering your phone.” His eyes dart from side to side. “Your mother must have been upset.”

“Ja, she nearly killed me,” she sighs. “She took my phone away.”

“I can only imagine. Is she asleep? Don’t you want to go for a late-night drive?” he asks.

“You don’t have a car.” Amara scoffs.

“A friend borrowed me his car. It won’t take long, we’ll get something to eat and come right back,” he insists. “Come on, it will be fun.”

“Ummm…OK. Why not?”

Amara steps away from the window to slip her feet into her pumps. She retrieves a chair from her study table and positions it beneath the window. She climbs onto it and hoists herself out. Zolani holds out his hand and helps her down on the other side. She lands with a thud. They freeze, listening for Amara’s mother, but she does not come to check. Feeling relieved, they snicker and take off running down the passage.

They make their way around the flat to the gap in the fence at the back. Amara squeezes out first; Zolani follows closely behind. He leads her to the next street to a grey Golf 7.5 parked on the edge of the road.

Tell us: What do you think of Amara’s behaviour so far? What do you think of Thandi’s reaction?