MaMfeka is looking at both Fezile and Lindani. She lets out a sigh because they have just told her about their visit to the fertility doctor.

“Fezile, I know it won’t be easy for you to forgive me after everything I have put you through. All this time I blamed you when in fact it was not you who had a problem. I sincerely apologise, my daughter,” says MaMfeka.

“I hear you, Ma,” says Fezile. Her heart still hurts and Lindani can see that.

“Ma and Fezile, both of you are important in my life. We need to come together and be a family that supports each other,” says Lindani.

“I promise I will change and play my role of being a supportive elder in your lives. Once again, I apologise to both of you,” says MaMfeka.

“I accept your apology, Ma. The important thing now is to be there for each other, and Lindani especially. I know how it feels to think you are infertile. I want to give him the support he gave me when I thought I had that problem,” says Fezile.

“Thank you, my child, for your good heart,” says MaMfeka.

Later that evening there is a knock on the door. Lindani opens the door to find Likho and her mother, Hlengiwe, standing under the light on the veranda. Likho runs to hug Lindani.

Hlengiwe sits on the opposite couch and looks at Fezile and Lindani. Hlengiwe watches as Likho opens the cupboards, takes out biscuits and then pours herself juice from the fridge.

“She feels at home here,” says Hlengiwe. “Every day she tells me about you and how you took good care of her while I was gone.”

Both Fezile and Lindani are smiling, watching Likho pull up the chair of the small table and chair set they bought her. She sits down to eat her biscuits and drink her juice.

“Likho is a good child,” says Fezile.

“The reason I came here is because I have finally accepted that I have a problem and tomorrow I will start the long journey to fixing that problem. I’ve had a drug and alcohol problem for a long time. Tomorrow I am finally going to rehab,” says Hlengiwe.

“That is great. We wish all the best for you,” says Lindani.

“So what will happen to Likho?” Fezile asks.

“That is what I wanted to ask you. Can you please take care of her while I’m at rehab?”

“Yes, of course!” they answer simultaneously.

“I’ll be there for three months,” says Hlengiwe.

“That’s not a problem at all,” says Fezile.

“Thank you. May God bless you,” says Hlengiwe, tears of joy filling her eyes.

* * * * *

It is four months later. Hlengiwe is out of rehab and has found a job working as a cashier at Spar. She stays in the granny flat at the back of Fezile’s house as she tries to piece her broken life together. Likho lives in the lap of true love because when her mother is at work, or just tired, she moves to the main house where she also has a bedroom. Even MaMfeka has taken a liking to Likho and loves it when she calls her ‘Gogo’.

Today they are having a braai to celebrate Hlengiwe’s one month sobriety. Fezile looks at the children playing in the jumping castle. Their laughter fills her with immense joy. She slides up next to Lindani who is turning steaks and the boerewors on the braai.

They both stand and look at the children playing.

“I want us to adopt a child,” says Fezile.

“Okay, my love. Tomorrow we will start the process,” says Lindani.

They go through the long adoption process. They meet all requirements – and nine months later, they bring home Thandolwethu, a beautiful two-year-old girl.

Tell us: How do you like this ending? Should they rather save up for IVF? What is your opinion about adopting a child?