That winter, Gran is taken to be by God’s side. The fancy doctor says she had a stroke in her sleep. That might be, but Mthabiseni thinks she was just tired. And that God wanted some nice company. The idea makes her happy, thinking Gran is knitting lekker cosy in Heaven.
Nobody even woke up during the night. So, it must have been peaceful.
At least Mom kept Gran’s funeral policy current, so they don’t have extra expenses and Gran has a nice send-off.
Secretly, Mthabiseni wonders if they had to pay a bit extra for a coffin that could fit Gran. Gran was always a bit too heavy: they even had to get extra bearers to assist with the coffin.
The funeral is nice and the whole community is supportive. Everyone knew Gran. Even Miss Munnik shows up. She also brings homework for Mthabiseni and Gosego. “So that you girls don’t fall behind,” she says.
Mthabiseni struggles to contain the tears at night when she does her homework. When the rest of the family sleeps, she works and studies and cries a bit. She misses her Gogo.
The last week of the exams. The students take turns writing their exams in some of the classrooms that did not burn down.
The department brings them writing papers, and Miss Munnik has a whiteboard on which she can give notes.
After one of her exams, as Mthabiseni and Gosego are walking towards the kitchen, she hears Miss Munnik calling her.
“Mthabiseni, can I ask what you would like to do after school?”
Taken aback, Mthabiseni swallows. She has thought about it before, but she knows that it won’t help her to dream.
“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it,” she lies, her voice unsure.
“You’ve never thought about your future?” Miss Munnik asks, her eyes serious.
Trying very hard not to start crying, Mthabiseni answers, her voice a bit hoarse. “It’s no use dreaming about something that won’t happen.”
“Did you know that I also grew up here?” Miss Munnik asks.
“What? Really?” Mthabiseni blurts out, all sadness temporarily forgotten.
“I lived two blocks away,” Miss Munnik answers, pointing to her right.
“If that’s true, how did you manage to become a teacher?”
Laughing, Miss Munnik answers. “I worked hard. The world does not owe you anything.”
Mthabiseni struggles to hold her intense stare. For the last few weeks, she has felt lost, floating. The only good thing was that after the fire, Tebogo didn’t come back. But if Miss Munnik made a success, could she do it too?
“Lift your head, keep your back straight. Take the world head-on, work hard, and become anything you want,” Miss Munnik says, still holding the intense stare.
“We can’t afford it, Ma’am. Even if I work hard, I’ll never be able to go to uni. And you need an education to become successful.
Stepping closer, “Do you think I had the money growing up? There are bursaries. Ones that you can apply for, ones that will allow you to go to any university and study what you want. But you’ll need to work hard, and your marks would need to be excellent. “
“Do you think I will be able to get something like that, Ma’am?” Mthabiseni asks as a seed of hope blossoms in her heart.
“Of course, you are definitely smart enough, and I see how hard you work,” Miss Munnik answers with a smile.
That afternoon, as Mthabiseni walks home, she notices the dusty road does not seem to be bothering her so much. The hope she now feels makes everything clearer. Even the bird songs seemed to be encouraging.
She will do it.
Tell us: Can you relate to Mthabiseni’s feelings in this chapter? How do you feel about your prospects after school?