The church was packed: there were people standing, and some sitting on the ground on their straw mats. Luniko was by one wall where it seemed all the young people had gathered. She was surprised that there were still so many young people left in Makhomeni; she thought they would have left for the big cities.

The meeting started and things went smoothly for a while. Until a point was raised about a supermarket that was soon to open. The room was excited about the job possibilities and one young person asked when the job selection processes would start.

“Well, it’s all still a plan on paper for now,” the councillor said, meaning he didn’t know. “It’s a private company … you know these big retailers,” he said, as though fearing the vibration from the mumbling in the room.

“They will not come here to open stores and employ people from elsewhere!” the young man shouted.

“Yeah, we’ve been sitting and waiting for the government to do something. And now they want to come make money off of us? Taking money we don’t have?” Another voice said from the people.

There was a lot of murmur in agreement.

“We will not support that, Mr Councillor. The people will not stand by and watch that happen.”

“We will boycott that store and burn it to the ground!” someone yelled from behind.

It took the councillor a very long time to get the people to settle down. He promised to go back to the developers and tell them what the people said. The people were not satisfied, but they let it go. Then the councillor opened up the room for the matters arising.

Luniko’s eyes wandered the room, but nobody spoke. She could feel Jezile’s eyes on her as he sat at the table with the councillor. She kept her gaze moving around the room and didn’t want to look in his direction.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” the councillor said. “If we don’t talk about the issues we face, then nothing gets done.”

Luniko looked up at the councillor as he spoke, then her eyes naturally found Jezile’s. He was smiling at her, nodding at her, encouraging her to speak. Warmth filled her stomach as she smiled at him. But she didn’t have the courage to speak up. So, like a student shying away from being picked in class, she dropped her gaze. She still felt like she was not really part of this town, that she didn’t know much to complain about. Someone who’d suffered more should have the right to speak, not her.

When nobody would speak, the councillor ended the meeting. He reminded people that his office was always open, people could always drop by and could even voice their concerns anonymously. Then they cleared up the table, gathering their things as the people shuffled towards the door.

The meeting was over and Luniko had chickened out. She had felt so good spreading the word about the meeting, telling people how important it was to have their voices heard. But when time came for her to raise her voice, she had frozen. All the things she had said to Jezile were now left unraised.

She walked out with the other people, chatting softly with those around her. She was outside, with another old schoolmate, when Jezile walked up to her.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked with burning eyes. “All the things you said to me at lunch. Why didn’t you speak up?”

“I told you, it’s not my place–”

Jezile’s eyes turned hard, cutting her off. He seemed angry, and disappointed.

“This is what people do. They complain that the government does nothing, when they don’t even take responsibility to effect the changes they want!” he accused.

Then he walked away from her. Luniko felt ashamed as she stood and watched him greet community members. He opened his door to some elderly ladies, got in his car and drove off.

Tell us: Would you have the courage and confidence to speak up at a public meeting? Have you ever done this? Over what issue?