It’s early morning but the sun is already shining bright. The streets of Hillbrow are buzzing with hooters, a mother is scolding her child who won’t stop crying because she hasn’t packed him popcorn for lunch, a young man is almost hit by an angry driver as he steps out before the robot changes for pedestrians, a woman calls softly for people to buy roasted mealies.

Nandipha thinks often how she would like to write the truth about this crazy Hillbrow to her grandmother. But all she ever writes is that it is great, fearing to scare her conservative, sick grandmother into a heart attack.

Nandipha’s phone is buzzing with Twitter notifications. The date and details of the march are finalised, social media is buzzing, the #FeesMustFall march is on everyone’s lips. Nandipha tunes into her favourite talk radio channel every chance she gets.

Last night when she chatted to Simo, her friend had said that today she would be going to school. Finally. Would she make it? Yes – Nandipha finds Simo at the Pakistani shop, leaning against the wall like her old self, but her skirt is longer than usual.

“Si, it’s so nice to have you back,” she says pulling Simo into a tight embrace.

When Nandipha lets go, Simo looks straight ahead and says, “Can we please go after school.”

Nandipha says nothing. She knows exactly where they’re going; she just didn’t think that Simo would choose today as the day.

“That way I can fully focus on the prelims. Come on Nands. You’ve got a good catch-up plan for me. I don’t want to disrupt it by constantly thinking about a baby growing in my tummy,” Simo says, pleading.

Before Nandipha can say anything in reply, Simo runs to the nearest dustbin to vomit.

“Si, geez, morning sickness much?” Nandipha asks, trying to make light of the situation.

“See why I have to get rid of this? Imagine me – Simo Majola – puking into a dustbin. Hayi man,” Simo says, as she takes a sip of the water Nandipha offers her.

“Straight after school ke, no wasting time, no nothing,” Nandipha says.

“Nandi, my Nands, straight after school wena babes,” Simo says, and takes Nandipha’s hand and the girls walk to school like its old times.

“But promise me something Simo. We are not going to go to ‘someone who knows someone’. You have to get a proper appointment at the hospital.”

Simo just looks at her.

“Because that’s how things happen. You can end up bleeding to death, or with infections and never be able to have children, and …”

“What do you think Nandi? Do you think I am stupid?” Simo says as they walk through the school gates.

The school bell rings, Simo tugs Nandipha’s hand and they start to run to class, laughing. It’s like old times again.

As they stop before the stairs leading to their classroom, out of breath, Simo looks at Nandipha and asks, “Ready?”

“I was born ready.” The girls give each other a high five and they shout, “Let’s go!” They start to race up the stairs, to see who will make it to the top first. Whoever loses will have to buy the other a cool drink after school. They started this game as friends in Grade 8.

Before they make it to the top, a Grade 10 learner comes running, chased by a boy who wants her to kiss him. The girl runs straight into Simo, sending the both of them down the stairs. Nandipha stops in her tracks and watches as her friend rolls down the stairs, her stomach hitting the concrete with every roll.

“Ouch!” Simo gasps, and holds her stomach instinctively as she lands at the bottom of the stairs. Blood is everywhere.

The Grade 10 learner has stood up and is screaming from the shock. The boy stands next to Nandipha shouting, “Sorry!”

Mrs Mabike walks out of her classroom to give the noise makers a piece of her mind but she stops dead at the sight of blood and Simo, who is now in foetal position, letting out soft moans of pain. Mrs Mabike shouts to the learners who have come out of their classes to look to go back inside the class then, “Go and ask the receptionist to call an ambulance,” she instructs the boy.

Nandipha is frozen, doesn’t know what to say. Blood flows from between Simo’s thighs and she is in agonising pain.

“Nandipha, you are going to have to leave with Majola when the ambulance gets here,” Mrs Mabike says, once Nandipha finds the courage to go down the stairs to be with her friend.

Some students are gathered by the classroom doors, others are watching through the windows and are making silly comments. Mrs Mabike shouts at them again, but they don’t listen, or stop.

Nandipha takes off her school blazer and places it over her best friend. She crouches next to Simo and begins to gently rub her back, just like her grandmother used to do for her.

***

Tell us what you think: Could this incident end up as a tragedy, or a blessing?