Siyanda is standing in the middle of Mandisa’s room, his face concerned as he speaks on the cell phone. Mandisa is watching the expression on Siyanda’s face turn serious. She sits up on the bed.
“Baba, what’s the matter?” says Siyanda into his cell phone. “I’m old enough. I can stomach anything, just say what you want to say.”
“Stevens passed away,” says his father.
“When? How? What happened?” asks Siyanda.
“He suffered a heart attack early this morning. We took him to the hospital but he died a few minutes ago.”
“Eish! I’m sorry to hear that, Baba. Have you notified his family? I remember you said he had an ex-wife.”
“Yes, I have called his ex-wife. She will relay it to his son.”
“Stevens had a son?”
“Yes, he told me about his boy sometimes.’
Siyanda is quiet for a while.
“So when are you coming home?” his father asks.
“I need to work, Baba. The money situation is really bad here. I also need to apply for jobs. I was also going to tell you I didn’t get the bursary. And-”
“I know, things are bad, my boy. But you can spare one weekend to pay your last respects to Stevens. This man has done so much for us, Siya.”
“I know, Baba. But things are really bad on my side. If I use the little money I have I won’t have food when I come back and I’ll be short of rent money come end of the month.”
“Use that money to come home. We’ll make a plan when you get here. We’ll work something out, Siya.”
Siyanda is quiet for a while. He dreads getting money from his father because that means his father will suffer. It was better when Stevens was alive – his father could borrow cash from him and pay back from his wages in instalments.
“Did you hear what I said, Siya? You have to come home to pay your last respects to Stevens.”
“I hear you, Baba. This is really sad news. I’ll make a plan.”
Siyanda ends the call. He sits on the bed next to Mandisa, sullen and in deep thought. His head is in his hands.
Mandisa asks, “What’s the matter, babe?”
“More worries, babe,” Siyanda sighs. “My father just told me that Stevens, the owner of the farm where we live, has passed away.”
“Shame, babe. What happened?”
“He suffered a heart attack.”
“Was he old?”
“Age was a factor, but more than anything Stevens lived a hard life. He drank a bottle of brandy every day, smoked two packs of cigarettes a day.”
“Yhu!? So what will happen to the farm?”
“I don’t know?”
“It seems like this Stevens was a rough character.”
“Yes, he was. But he was also good to us, in a way.”
“How?’
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. It is a farm. It is rural, accompanied by hard labour. It wasn’t all roses but Stevens was, in his rough way, also humane. He got together with other farmers in the area and built a school for the children of the farmworkers. They hired and paid the teachers.”
“Wow!”
“All the farmworkers were always paid on time. It wasn’t a lot of money but we could eat,” Siyanda looks into Mandisa’s eyes. “Stevens showed streaks of goodness. When it came to work he was hard, he had a rough tongue, but when a worker passed away he made sure to give him a decent funeral. When workers from far away passed away he provided transport for those who wanted to go to the funeral, and he personally attended.”
“Wow, when I think of a farmer I think of a bad man exploiting his workers.”
“It’s not that simple, babe. There are many sides to a person. He had his moments of humanity. I also think he was rough because it is all he knew. He was a lonely man. When the loneliness got too much for him to bear, he’d come to the workers’ quarters, talk and drink with my father. He knew all the workers and the children on the farm by name.”
Mandisa nods and says, “I guess you are going to the funeral.”
“Yes, babe,” says Siyanda. “I have to pay my respects.”
***
Tell us: What do you think gives a person their humanity? Have you ever been surprised to find that a person had an unexpected side – good or bad?