After finishing his load, he decides to go get pap and skop at his favorite food truck, Mam’Stwetla’s Kitchen. As he sits down and prepares to take off his cap, he hears a voice he knows too well speaking behind him. He presses his cap down, hiding his face, but Mam’Stwetla takes it off him as she places his food next to him.

“What’s underneath here?” she laughs, “What are you hiding?”

Nathi laughs nervously as he looks back to confirm that it was his high school maths teacher’s voice he was hearing. Their eyes meet and Mr Ndlovu gets up from his table and walks to Nathi.

“Haayii kanti yini namhlanje [what’s with this day]?” he asks himself.

“Nene!” Mr Ndlovu laughs, “It is really you, what have you been up to?”

“Eh…” he tries to speak but is interrupted by Mam’Stwetla bringing him water for his hands.

“This, Bab’Ndlovu, is my favourite customer. He is a very hardworking young man and soon he will be a taxi owner,” Mam’Stwetla says proudly.

“Hawu, you are still singing that song even today?” Mr Ndlovu asks, shaking his head in disapproval.

A feeling of embarrassment and disappointment floods Nathi’s heart. “Yeah, things are moving slowly but that is still the dream, sir,” Nathi says, wiping his forehead.

“Just go back to school, Nene, this thing of yours will never happen. Even taxi owners finished school unless they inherited the taxis or did some criminal thing. Your older brother is graduating from law school next year and your younger brother is running a successful shisa nyama. Do you know the difference between you and them?” Mr Ndlovu asks. He does not wait for a reply. “They listened to their elders and finished school. You dropped out in Grade 10 thinking your forefathers owned this world and left it to you as an inheritance, yet look where you are 10 years later. You thought you knew everything there is to know and we your elders, who have been doing this life thing long before you, were just bumbo heads. In fact, when last did you speak to your mother? At least calling, because I know you have not been home since you rebelled and now I see why,” he says, shaking his head disapprovingly again.

Nathi’s blood is boiling and tears sting his eyes. “This man has not changed one bit. Still a chatterbox,” he thinks to himself.

“Change your ways, Nene, and call your mother. Hawu yini ngawe ngane [what’s wrong with you, child]?” he says, and takes his leave.

Having lost his appetite, Nathi asks Mam’Stwetla for a takeaway instead.

He decides to cut his work day short and goes home. He meets Mam’Dineo at the gate.

“Ja Nathi, why couldn’t you tell me yourself that you cannot pay rent this month? Why do you keep sending my grandson?” she asks.

“Sorry, Ma, I was scared”, Nathi replies.

“You do not look good, are you OK? Why did you knock off so early?” Mam’Dineo asks, concerned.

“Just a headache, Ma,” Nathi says.

“Wait here,” Mam’Dineo says, walking into her house. She comes out with pills and hands them to Nathi.

“Thanks, Ma.”

Nathi goes into his room and throws himself on the bed. “This was a day from hell,” he says, as he whips out his phone and logs into his Facebook. He sees a picture of his girlfriend, Gugu, sitting on a guy’s lap in a club. He immediately sits up straight and zooms in on the picture. It is her. He calls her. No answer. He leaves his room and drives to her place. She’s not there. He gets a sharp pain in his head and he drives back home. He takes the pills Mam’Dineo gave him and dozes off.

Three hours later, at 8pm, he wakes up and feels jaded for a while until his phone beeps. It is a text from Gugu.

Hi, Nathi. I heard you were looking for me earlier. You must have seen the picture on Facebook. That was me and my new boyfriend. The grass is greener on this side. Broken heart. Have a nice life

“WHAT!” he exclaims. He tries calling her but she has blocked him. He throws his phone on the couch and goes back to sleep.

Tell us: Why do you think Nathi has not seen or contacted his mother in 10 years?