Zuko Rashamuse woke up with a start. He had been having a lovely dream about his father. He closed his eyes, wanting to go back into the dream. Papa was visiting his family. Zuko smiled in the dark.

If Papa was home, that meant there was money for food and school fees. Everything was going to be all right now.

Zuko jumped out of bed. His dream was so real he peeped into Dad’s room. His heart felt heavy as he saw his bed was empty. It hadn’t been slept in for many weeks now. Nothing had changed. Things were just as bad as they were yesterday and the day before that.

Zuko took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could feel the tears well up but he wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. He could not afford to break down now.

Today, Wednesday the seventh of December, was a big day on the school calendar. He had been dreading this day arriving for weeks now. He wished with all his heart that time would stand still for him, but of course that was impossible. Time moved on no matter what happened. To Zuko it seemed as if time went even faster than ever.

For most of the school pupils in Jackson’s Hole, Southend, Port Elizabeth, it was an exciting day. It was the start of the long summer holidays. The pupils shouted and laughed louder than ever. There was an air of great excitement around the school.

But Zuko had been dreading this day coming for a long time now. It felt like he had a large stone wedged in his stomach.

For others though it was the end of their secondary school education. Some of the lucky ones were going to be able to study further. They wanted to be teachers, doctors, pilots or engineers one day. The list was endless, but what he envied most about them was that they had choices. He didn’t have the luxury of being able to choose what to do with his life.

Zuko envied those children who would be able to return to school in January. There was nothing more in the world he wanted to do than finish his schooling. He was barely sixteen years old and he was being forced to leave school. He wanted to be a journalist one day. His dream was to own his own newspaper. He knew he was smart enough for it if he worked hard. If he could finish school…

His hero was Madiba. How many times had he read what he’d written? He knew some of his famous words off by heart:

“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world … It seems impossible until it is done … I detest racism, because I regard it as a barbaric thing, whether it comes from a black man or a white man.”

Some of Zuko’s friends thought he was silly for wanting more schooling. They thought he was lucky he would never have to go to school again. To them having to go to school and learn was a burden. They’d rather be hanging around on the streets and causing mischief wherever they went.

“School is boring with a capital B,” John said. “What’s the point of all that learning? I’d rather be a drug lord like my older cousin, Benjamin. He’s got a huge house and lots of cars. He can have as many women as he wants.”

Zuko just shook his head at him. He wasn’t going to argue with John. Benjamin had been shot at least four times and now he had a scar right across his head. He was a gangster. Who wanted to live like that?

Zuko looked sadly around him. His heart began to beat furiously. He would never be called a school pupil again. He swallowed hard at the thought of that.

Zuko lived with Gogo and his brother in a tiny house in Walmer Township. Actually it was more a shack than a house, but it was their home.

Zuko’s father had a good job at the Addo Elephant National Park outside of Port Elizabeth. He came back to PE at the end of every month. He brought money and food with him. Zuko and Samuel were able to go to school. They were not rich but their father was a hard-working man and took good care of his family.

Then in June everything changed. Zuko’s father never came home at the end of the month. Nobody had seen him since. It was like he had just disappeared into thin air.

Zuko had wanted to drop out of school then but Gogo wouldn’t let him. She had saved some money so the family were able to make ends meet for a while.

“Finish Grade 10,” she begged him. “You’ll turn seventeen in November. The more schooling you have the better it is for you.”

Zuko knew what his grandmother was thinking. Moses was her last-born son. She adored him. “There is something wrong, Zuko. I feel it in my bones. Your father would not desert his family in this way.”

A stray tear slid out of her right eye and down her face. She did not wipe it away.

For months now they had survived on her little nest egg and her monthly pension. They needed her pension to survive. But the weeks went past and still there was no word from his father. Gogo’s nest egg was dwindling fast. She had been forced to sell some of her goats and chickens.

Zuko felt he was man of the house now. He needed to get a job. But who was going to employ him at such a young age? He could try and get various garden jobs. He was young and strong. He would be able to lift and carry heavy objects. Or maybe one of the shops would employ him to help carry their merchandise or pack shelves. If that failed he could stand at the robots with his hands out begging for money from the passing cars.

He hated the idea of becoming a beggar, but in reality he didn’t have very many choices.

There was just no way he was going to let his gogo and brother go hungry. At seventeen years of age he was forced to become the breadwinner in his family. Zuko’s only wish now was that he would not let his family down.

***

Tell us what you think: Is it better to be a beggar than a gangster? Why?