Thulani is now in bed, talking to his girlfriend Lindiwe on the phone. He stretches out, trying to get rid of the pain he exerts on his body by doing rigorous manual labour at National Chicks six days a week.

“I know, babe. I can’t wait to have kids of my own too, but I want to marry you first. I want to do this right,” he says.

“I know you don’t like it when I say this, babe, but I hope the first time we try we get twins,” says Lindiwe.

“Yeah right. You and your twins,” he says.

“And we’ll have four kids in total, including Njabulo and Pumpkin, and then live happily ever after.”

Thulani smiles and covers his face with his hand. “I love you so much, Lindiwe.”

“I love you more, babe.”


Zothani and his friends now have seven girls sitting at their table. The four Hennessey bottles are forgotten history. The music is thumping loud, bartenders are coming and going with new orders. The hubbly bubbly, cigar and cigarette smoke creates a scenery that Zothani likens to chilling in the clouds. He smiles and gently squeezes the thigh of the coloured girl, Samantha, now seated on his lap. Samantha looks at him and he calls her closer with a flick of two fingers.

“Let’s go home, angel!” he shouts in Samantha’s ear.

“Okay babe. Can I order one more bottle for the road?” Samantha shouts in his ear. Her lips rub softly against his earlobe.

The ticklish feeling rushes from Zothani’s ear to the rest of his body. He squeezes Samantha’s thigh a little tighter. “Order twenty if you like, Samantha.”


A loud bang wakes up Thulani. He can hear it is coming from the kitchen door. The first bang is followed by a second bang, then the door splinters into pieces. He jumps out of bed, puts on a pair of jeans. He rushes out of his bedroom and hears many footsteps approaching. Torch lights dance on the walls of his family home as if in a nightclub.

“Zothani! You’re surrounded! Don’t take chances!” says a harsh male voice.

“Oh Lord, not again. He’s not here. Zothani doesn’t live here!” pleads Thulani’s mother.

When Thulani hears this he drops to his knees and puts his hands up. Heavily armed police appear and point their guns and torches at him.

“I’m not him,” Thulani says under his breath.

The torchlights are too bright. Thulani closes his eyes and waits for the terrifying unknown. He’s been investigated by the police several times before because of his brother. Their home is Zothani’s ‘last known address.’ But this is the first time Zothani is being hunted by the infamous ‘Berets’, the SAPS’s Tactical Response Team.


Tell us: what do you think will happen next?