“Cebisa, wait up!”

I turn, and spotting my best friend Elihle, I smile. “Molo. Good to see you.”

“Molo,” she says, beaming back. “I missed you this break.”

“I missed you. Why didn’t you come over and visit, neh? Since Nandi got the dog, she doesn’t scream when visitors come over.”

Elihle smacks her lips. “My mama put me to work. She’s trying to start some new community kraal thing. In fact, she’s probably going to WhatsApp the information to your parents, too. She wants to get some of the unemployed young men, like Melusi, involved.”

I kick a stone out of the way, as I ask, “What do you mean by a community kraal and why would it help my brother?”

Elihle shrugged. “I’m not sure, neh? But my mama made me read this thing, the entire ‘Guidelines for Urban and Peri-Urban Animal Agriculture’. It’s what she’s WhatsApping to anyone who will listen. It all started because she’s tired of the goats eating our laundry and vegetables, and the pigs and the chickens–”

I nod. “I understand. I think I chased goats out of the laundry every day during break.”

“I know, right? So my mama thinks this could both keep the animals out of people’s gardens while also providing a few jobs for some of the young men.”

“Hmm,” I say.

“So you think Melusi would be interested? I mean, he must be tired of watching Nandi?”

I shrug. I don’t want to tell her that I’m not sure Melusi is paying much attention to Nandi. He always takes time off with his friends each break, but this one was the worst. Two nights after the peanut butter incident, he’d come home with blood on his jeans.

“It’s not mine,” he’d told Mama.

“Then whose is it?” she’d demanded.

And all he kept saying was, “It’s nobody’s. I promise you, it is nobody’s.”

I don’t understand why my parents let him get away with that sort of non-answer. I mean, blood had to come from somebody, neh?

Thankfully, school takes my mind off my sister and brother. Not that I enjoy doing class work, understand, but it keeps me busy and I like seeing my friends and going to choir practice. People are laughing, passing notes, and whispering secrets. Life is easier here, you see.

But all too soon, I’m walking back home. And what’s the first thing I see? Melusi, arguing with Blaze, while Nandi has her face buried in Silwane’s fur.

“Hayi!” I hear Melusi shouting. “This dog isn’t something you can just replace at the local animal shelter.”

“Like your idiot sister could tell the difference. Just give her a stuffed toy and she’d be just as dumb and happy.”

I ran up to him. “Shut your mouth. My sister is not dumb, she’s only different.” And as the words leave my mouth, I know it is true. Nandi might not talk, you see, but give her a puzzle and she solves it in a blink.

But Blaze is rolling his eyes at me, and snorting. “Right, right, whatever you say.” He lifts his chin at Melusi. “When you’ve decided if you like earning real money or not, you let me know. Until then, happy babysitting the idiot.”

As he walks off, I turn to Melusi. “What’s that about?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. I’ve got to go.”

“Listen, I’ve still got homework to do.”

“Not my problem, I’m done,” he says.

As he walks off Nandi waves. But it isn’t until that evening that I realise that’s the first time I’ve seen her do that – wave to a human, I mean.

***

Tell us: In your area, are there good fences and kraals or do you have problems with animals wandering everywhere?

You can read the Guidelines for Urban and Peri-urban Animal Agriculture here