“Really?” Nyasha was intrigued. “I never knew that.” In fact it was the first time she had heard that her father even had an older sister.

“Where is she now, Dad?” she asked, as she ate her dinner.

“She passed away, many years ago now,” Dad said. “You remind me of her in many ways.”

“She must have been very young when she died,” Nyasha said.

Dad didn’t say anything, but he had a faraway look in his eyes.

“Why don’t you join the choir at school?” Mum said, as she began clearing the dishes away. It was obvious her parents didn’t want to talk about his sister.

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Dad said. “I know you have your studies but you’ve got a lovely, rich, sweetness in your voice, child. It would be a shame to waste it.”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” Nyasha said. “I enjoy singing but I don’t want anybody else listening to me.”

“I think most people would enjoy listening to you,” her dad said.

“That’s because you’re prejudiced,” Nyasha replied, as she helped her mom clear the table. “You’re obliged to say I can sing well.”

“Well he doesn’t say that about me,” her mom said, as she opened her mouth and sang, “I love you, babe.”

“That’s because you have a terrible voice!” Mr Moreo laughed.

“What about you, Dad. Can you sing?” Nyasha asked.

“I’m even worse than your mother,” he grinned. “It was the female side of my family that inherited the singing talent. My mother, and her mother before her, could sing too. They always sang at weddings and funerals. In fact many times we would have gone hungry but for their singing. You see, people paid them to sing at these events. That’s why my mother encouraged Sissy’s singing. She had a beautiful voice.”

Lying in bed, later that night, Nyasha thought about what her parents had said. She wondered if she would have the nerve to get up in front of people and sing. It was a daunting prospect. Yet she knew the choir was badly in need of singers.

She spent so much time studying and reading her allotted English books that she wondered where she would get the time.

Besides that, Miss Hlathi, the choir teacher, was known as a tyrant. She thought nothing of shouting at the pupils when they didn’t get the right pitch. She was even known to chase some of them away, telling them they were not performing for the next ‘Idols’ competition.

***

Tell us: Do you find the idea of performing publicly thrilling, or daunting?