In the mornings, Asanda’s classes began earlier than Londiwe’s. As soon as they got out of the car, Asanda had to hurry to class because her classes started at seven o’clock. And after school they didn’t leave at the same time either. Their mother fetched Londiwe and Thando first, and only later did she go back to school to fetch Asanda, because the Matric class only left at dusk.

Londiwe now had to come home and scrub the floor or, on some occasions, prepare food before their unpredictable electricity supply was disrupted. But often, when Asanda got home, Londiwe had locked herself in her bedroom.

It was easy to see in Londiwe’s eyes that she was unhappy. But she couldn’t say anything because the situation demanded that she accept it. You could tell by her slow walk that that child was carrying a heavy load, not to mention her teary eyes. It was painful to her mother; it felt like she was, once again, going through birth pains when she watched her child suffering in silence.

As she drove her car, the mother wondered how she was going to solve this problem. “Hmm, I wonder what is happening between my girls. It is about time I sat them down so that we can talk. If I fail, I will let them discuss it alone as friends.”

As planned, when all the children had been fetched from school in the evening, a family meeting was held after dinner without Thando. The mother began by describing the situation.

“My children,” she began, “you know that I love you with all my heart and I wish the best for you as every other parent does.”

“It is true, Mama. We know that,” the sisters agreed.

The mother continued, “If any of you are not happy about something, you know that you can talk to me. Don’t you?”

“Yes, Mama, we know, and we promise to come to you and talk to you. But, Mama, sometimes you become angry when we try to talk to you,” the children replied. Their faces were a mixture of fear and smiles. They did not want their mother to feel uncomfortable.

“I apologise, my children. It is difficult to be a single parent. There are many things that I have to face on my own. There are times when I find myself a little depressed, but that should not stop you from coming to me and sharing your difficulties with me. I am pleading with you, my children.”

Tears began flowing down Londiwe’s face, and the mood in the house changed to sadness. She suddenly got up and went to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Their mother tried to follow her, but she was too late: Londiwe had already locked the door behind her. Asanda and her mother sat in silence, unable to understand what had just happened. Soft sobbing sounds could be heard from Londiwe’s bedroom.

“Londiwe, please open the door, my child, so that we can talk,” pleaded her mother.

“Not now, Mama. I will tell you when I am ready to talk.”

Her mother was worried. “It’s fine, my child. You must always know that I will always love you. I will be waiting when you are ready to talk.”

“I love you too, Mama,” replied Londiwe.

There was a long period of silence in the house. Asanda got up and knocked on the door of her friend’s bedroom.

“Londiwe,” pleaded Asanda, “please open the door so that we may talk.” Asanda was very worried now.

“My friend, we’ll talk later,” replied Londiwe, behind the locked door.

Asanda was wondering what she had done. She wanted to know what had happened to her sister that had made her decide to lock herself in her bedroom and prefer to be alone.

“Don’t worry, Asanda,” advised her mother, “she will speak when she is ready. We should just support her and assure her that we are with her in whatever situation she is facing.”

“It is fine, Mama,” agreed Asanda, “Let us wait until she is ready to talk to us”.

Tell us: what do you think Londiwe’s problem is?