Thank God my mum had put money in my suitcase to help me on the way. The guy sitting next to me wanted to start a long conversation with me, but my mind was far away.

“If you don’t mind, I just want to sleep. I’m not in the mood to talk,” I told him. I was relieved when he put on headphones and listened to music.

I stared out at the passing landscape. Every kilometre took me further away from home. Would my father ever let me go home? How could I see my mom again, and my brothers and sisters? I felt so scared, lonely and empty inside my heart. Not even a smile could shield the way I felt.

I went to stay with my cousin Khanyisile in Masiphumelele in the far south of Cape Town. Khanyisile was a student at the University of Cape Town, studying Sociology. She lived in a one-roomed shack made of zinc. On one side there was a small single bed, and a small fridge stood next to a brown kitchen cabinet. The only ventilation was from one small window. If things didn’t work out well for me I was going to have to raise my child in this place. It saddened my heart, but I had to be strong.

“Kuzolunga sisi, ungakhathazeki, it will be fine my sister, don’t be troubled,” Khanyisile said, consoling me. She prepared some pap and stew for me for lunch. I had been craving beef, and it was good.

“One thing I can’t stand now is the smell of chicken,” I told her. “Beef was a good choice.”

Soon I was working for a company in Fish Eagle Park, an industrial park in nearby Kommetjie. I knew my bosses, Mr and Mrs Murray, through Roviss, who had worked with them on a few projects. They were a very compatible old couple.

“We are so shocked that he would do something like that,” Mr Murray said.

“Isn’t he working for an organisation for kids in Kayamandi?” his wife asked.

“Yes he is,” I affirmed. “How he behaves with others and how he behaves with me are two different things.”

“If there’s anything you need, please let us know,” the Murrays told me.

“Tomorrow I must go for a check-up at the hospital, but I will come straight to work after,” I told them.

“It’s OK with us dear. Go and have your baby checked. I still remember when I went to the antenatal clinic,” Mrs Murray said with a smile. I was three months pregnant and I was already starting to feel tired. The Murrays were not making me work under pressure at that time, since they knew what I was going through.

I woke up the next day, a beautiful Friday morning, and took a bath in the tub we used for washing. I put on my leggings and a blue top. My cousin woke up just after I had finished bathing.

“Uvuke njani, Pros? I’ll prepare breakfast for you because I noticed that you don’t eat a proper breakfast when you’re rushing to work,” she said.

“Ngivukile sisi,” I told her. “Just make some cereal for me dear, and I’ll have proper breakfast tomorrow.”

People rose very early to go to the hospital. I ate my breakfast quickly and grabbed my handbag.

“Here’s R50 to buy something to eat there,” Khanyi said, handing me the money.

“Oh Khanyi, uri mwana wechikoro, you are still a student. Don’t use up your allowance to help me,” I advised her.

“You’re my sister and I can’t just leave you like that. You would have done the same thing for me, if I was in the same situation,” she said.

I hugged her before I left and walked up to the taxi rank. The taxi didn’t take long to fill up because it was peak hour and within fifteen minutes I was at False Bay Hospital. When I got to the entrance I went straight to reception and dropped off my card, and was directed to the antenatal unit. It was a relief to see few patients there – I would not have to wait long. Two white women pushing a trolley with tea and biscuits came in.

“Good morning ladies,” one of them greeted us. We all stood up to get tea.

At eight o’clock the doctor started seeing patients. The nurse checked my weight and whether my blood pressure was high. “Everything seems to be fine and you’re gaining weight as well,” she said, handing me some folic acid pills.

“Thank you so much nurse,” I said, relieved.

Just before I reached the bus stop I was lucky to get a taxi that was going to Ocean View, near my workplace. It was already 12 noon, but I still headed to the office.

“How did it go at the hospital?” Mrs Murray asked with concern.

“It went well and the baby is growing. I can’t wait to know what sex my baby will be,” I told her.

“What are you hoping for?” she asked.

“Girls’ clothes aren’t so difficult to choose in shops, unlike boys’ outfits,” I said. “But anyway, it’s in God’s hands.”

“You’re so right about that, Prosperity. A child is such a wonderful blessing regardless of the sex.”

From the time I went to the maternity clinic I started buying stuff in preparation for my unborn baby. I didn’t earn much because it was a junior position, but I managed my salary very well.

Then my father went a step further. When he heard that I was staying with my cousin he told her that he would stop paying for her rent and groceries, until I went to live with Roviss. We thought it was all talk, that surely he could not be so severe. But he was a man of action too. He stopped the payments.

I had no option but to go and stay with the man I never wanted to see again. A man who did not love me anymore, nor I him.

***

Tell us what you think: How do you think Prosperity will get along with Roviss now that they are not together?