A few days thereafter, it was in June and I wanted to change the course that I had registered for. I intended to apply for Social Work at Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University in Port Elizabeth, now known as Gqeberha. It was 2011 when I took this decision and it was based on the fact that I was tired of the ongoing WSU strike.

I heard that Dingiswayo had disappeared. He was last seen going to a study centre while it was raining hard.

I searched for him, checking in hospitals, with police, and at mortuaries, but all in vain. Eventually, a guy from Mlengana that I was studying with said we should go see if he was not the crazy man who was performing tricks carrying a Bible near KFC in Chattam Street in Mthatha. When we arrived there, we saw a man with long curly hair. He smelled like a dump site and he had no clothes on except a small brownish coat. His feet were cracked. It was Thandazile Thambodala from Thomo. I could not contain myself. I cried bitterly. Everyone looked at me, amazed. They could not believe that I was crying for a crazy man who was not even dressed.

All that this crazy man did was laugh. This guy who used to be my peer, who I shared blankets, plates and food with, did not know a thing now. The guy from Mlengana and I left and we were as deeply disappointed as if we had been kissed by a dog. We were also very worried. The sight of my friend showed me something that I never thought of regarding people who lose their minds. He showed me that besides the assessments performed by the doctors, neurosurgeons, and social workers, which showed that many people have mental breakdowns due to drug abuse and child abuse, there were also those who got bewitched because of jealousy, like my pal Dingindawo.

I did not believe that he would just lose it for no reason, and he had not even been sick. Every time I saw him in such a dirty, uncared-for state in those Mthatha streets where he did not even belong, I felt it cutting deeply in my heart and I just cried. I decided to take some time out to go and meet Baw’uTolo and Baw’uMaqholo and let them know about what had happened to Dingindawo. Maybe they would be able to help my friend. Next week I would be going home. I hoped there would be some help that they could provide so that he could get out of this misery.

Question: If you were Mzoli, what would you have done? How would you have helped your friend?