It turns out I was wrong about Dambisa being out of my life. At school on Monday, I walk round a corner, and there he is. My head is still full of the comments and leers I got coming through the school gate a minute ago, so for a moment I don’t even realise it’s him.
“So how are you liking your new fame, bitch?” he says, crowding me.
I desperately want to show dignity, to walk away without reacting. But all the anger and shame that have been building up won’t let me.
“How could you do it, Dambisa?” I whisper.
“What’s wrong?” he mocks. “Not enjoying your punishment?”
“Punishment?” I stare at him.
“What were you expecting? That you could just break up with me and get away with it?”
“For God’s sake, Dambisa.” I try to dodge round him, but he blocks me. “People break up all the time.”
“Not with me.” His voice is a snarl. “I do the dumping, and everyone is gonna remember than in future–”
“Back off,” someone says. “Leave her alone.”
It’s Ramano. He has two of his friends with him.
Dambisa gives this ugly laugh. “Not doing anything. Just finding out if this ho is enjoying … what should we call it? My revenge? Too many of these females disrespecting us men these days. We need to teach them.”
“Jeez dude, move on, get over it,” one of Ramano’s friends says.
“And get a life,” Ramano adds.
“What the hell? I can’t believe this.” Dambisa’s voice has risen. “You turning your backs on a brother?”
“I don’t call you brother, or a man,” Ramano says, so calmly. “You okay, Lamulile?”
“Fine.” I’m upset, but it gives me something, strength I think, seeing the suddenly uncertain look Dambisa gives Ramano and the other two. “Hey, thanks, all of you.”
The strong feeling stays with me until Mr Lekhuleni’s class, later in the morning. At the end of the lesson, when we’re all leaving, he calls me back. I turn, but stay in the classroom doorway.
“You were meant to see me about your work after school on Friday,” he says.
“Sorry sir, I forgot.” I don’t look at him, because I don’t want to see that greedy look in his eyes.
“Then you must come this afternoon,” he orders me.
“Sorry sir,” I repeat and spout the first lie I can think of. “I’m going for my driver’s licence test straight after school, and my parents will be furious if I miss it after all the trouble we had getting a booking.”
Then I turn and hurry away before he can suggest that I come at break.
I almost crash into Ms Zwane at the end of the open-sided corridor.
“Lamulile? Rushing along like the devil is chasing you. What’s wrong?”
“Sorry ma’am,” I begin, but I’m shaking so badly and so frightened, that I can’t hold it back. “Ma’am? Mr Lekhuleni – I think he wants … There was a photo of me …”
“I know about it, and I’m sorry.”
So different to Mrs Mzimbe.
“And, and I think sir wants … wants …” I can’t put it into words.
Her face hardens. “All right, calm down. I’ll see what I can do there. Pupils should feel safe at school. I just wish I could help you with everything else that’s going down, Lamulile. But the mind-set of a large section of people in this school …”
She shakes her head.
***
Tell us: Dambisa thought Ramano and his friends should support him, just because they’re ‘brothers’. What do you think about males sticking together like this?