It’s a sunny afternoon in Makhado, Limpopo. Lebo, Tshilidzi and Lufuno stroll out of the school gate and down to the market. BFFs!

“I was so happy when Mrs Magau handed me my Life Orientation script,” says Tshilidzi, full of energy.

“And…?” Lebo asks.

“I couldn’t believe what I saw on the paper. I scored 97%!”

“Wow!” the others shout in unison. “No shuma musi! You did well!”

The girls weave between the market stalls – unaware of a blue sedan cruising along the road behind them. They’re just enjoying the fragrance of fresh bananas, oranges and lemons that fills the air.

“Ndi masiari vhomme (Afternoon, mothers),” the girls greet the fruit-sellers as they pass.

“Avhudi (Good one),” the fruit-sellers reply.

They leave the market. The blue sedan stops. All the windows of the car are wound down. There are three people inside: a stout man is at the wheel, a light-complexioned woman in the front passenger’s seat. On the back seat lounges another man, chubby and with saggy cheeks. He is wearing shades.

The woman leans out of the car and calls to Lebo, Tshilidzi and Lufuno and they turn.

“Vhananga vha manakanaka nandi! (My beautiful children!)”

They look at her. “Can you help us please? We are looking for a place called Thanyani Repairs. It’s a local scrapyard.”

Lebo is first to answer. “I know it. It’s near to my home.”

The woman beckons her closer and Lebo leaves her friends to run up to the car. “You say you know where this place is?” the woman smiles, and her eyes brighten up as she speaks.

Lebo points ahead of them down the road. “Drive down Fifth Avenue. Turn left into Sixth Street. It stretches for half a kilometre right down to the other side of the bridge. Turn right just before the shopping centre. Then take the first road left.”

Lebo is proud of how she can give such clear directions. “You will see my home. It’s the corner house with the beautiful flowers, green lawn and a jacaranda tree near the gate. After my home there is another stand. It is surrounded by a big yellow wall. The wall has lots of cars and a design of spare parts painted on it. That’s the scrapyard you are looking for.”

The woman is frowning, looking puzzled, into the sun. The driver leans across the woman to talk to Lebo. “We don’t know this town.” He speaks in a soft, sweet voice. “We come from Mutale. We have been going around in circles. It is hard…” he smiles. “We can offer you a lift home. It’s hot and it will save you the walk. And seeing it’s so close to your home…”

Lebo turns to look at Lufuno and Tshilidzi. They laugh. She knows she should not take a lift from strangers, but the nice people are lost, and they are going just next door to her house. And it’s the middle of the day.

“I have a spare ice-cold Sprite,” says the woman, holding up a drink. Lebo sees the sun sparkling on the bottle.

“Ice-cold Sprite. Inwi ni wa mashudu! (You lucky girl!)” Lufuno complains.

“Too bad they aren’t going in our direction. You are lucky you’ve got a lift home,” Tshilidzi says.

“See you tomorrow, gals!” says Lebo. “Don’t forget to write the assignment for Mrs Mboma. You know what will happen if you don’t.”

Her friends run off laughing.

Lebo is wearing her uniform which is a green tunic, a white shirt, white socks and a pair of black shoes. She also has a green tie with the maroon emblem of her school on it. She gets into the back seat and sits next to the man wearing dark glasses. She hadn’t seen him there, stretched out on the black leather. She can smell his aftershave.

She puts her school bag on the floor at her feet. She looks out of the window. She can see her friends turning the corner at the end of the market stalls and then they are gone.

Sometimes Lebo walks home to her house. But that’s if she misses the taxi. The taxi only comes at four to the school to pick them up. It is three o’clock now. She is lucky to get this lift, she tells herself. They are playing hip hop music on the radio, Mizo Phyll’s Tshikandeledzi. Lebo instantly takes to singing along in her mind, bobbing her head in the air.

She will get home earlier today. She will do her chores and after that have enough time to practise her violin, before she writes her essay for Mrs Mboma.

“What Grade are you in, child?” asks the woman in the front seat, turning down the volume.

“Grade 9, Mma.”

“You are no doubt a clever child. You will go far.” The woman lowers her sunglasses and Lebo sees that she is wearing purplish eye-shadow. “If you continue at school there is nothing you can’t do. This country needs young girls like you who take education seriously.”

Lebo likes what the woman is saying. She enjoys being told she is clever. It makes her feel proud that even a stranger can notice this about her.

“You can have all the things of the world, but without education you are nothing!” says the woman.

As the car drives up the bridge, the woman presses the electronic button that closes her window. Lebo watches as it slides up. The driver presses another button and all the windows glide up and shut tightly. It is darker in the car now, because the windows are tinted.

There is a click in unison as the doors automatically lock.

Lebo’s heart skips a beat.

“Such a bad smell out there,” the woman complains, wrinkling her nose. “We can put the aircon on,” and she fiddles with another switch.

It happens so fast. The man next to her, who has been quiet all along behind his shades, suddenly slaps his palm across Lebo’s mouth. She feels something sticky against her lips. When he pulls his hand away an adhesive patch is stuck to her mouth. Her lips are glued together. Her heart hammers with panic. She feels like she can’t breathe. How can this be happening?

“Keep quiet or else I will shoot you now!” The woman’s face has changed. She is no longer smiling. She is shouting; the spit flies from her mouth. Lebo sees the small gun in her hand as she stares at Lebo on the back seat. Lebo can’t even see where they are through the dark windows.

The man next to her yanks her hands behind her back. She winces. Then he is wrapping her wrists together with duct tape. It is painful and pinches.

Oh God! As if that is not enough, he holds up a thick black cloth to blindfold her. They do not want her to see where they are going.

Lebo has seen movies where this happens. Young girls are kidnapped. But it doesn’t happen in real life. Not in her town. Not to her.

She struggles against the duct tape but it is too tight. It’s painful.

“Keep quiet or else I will shoot you now!”

She stops fighting and sits still, her heart thumping.

Oh God, please help me, she prays. Why me, Lord? Will they kill me? What wrong have I done? Why did I help them?

She wanted to get home earlier. But, above all, she wanted to help. Even the Bible tells her so, that she must do the right thing – give help to those who need it, feed the hungry, clothe the naked…

Tears soak the cloth which blindfolds her eyes.

The man drives on. But Lebo cannot see where they are going.

***

Tell us what you think: What will Lebo’s kidnappers do with her?