Most of Malaika’s teenage years were bad years. And most of them were repeated.

At the age of fifteen, she contracted viral meningitis – twice over. She lay in hospital for weeks. Her head felt like it was being split open by a rusty chainsaw.

Leruo came to visit her after school most days.

“You must get better soon,” he begged. “I hate it at home now that you and Daddy are both gone. I miss you so much, Malaika. Mama is always sad. She sits in her bedroom crying and she never listens when I speak. You have to get better and come home!”

“I’ll get out of here as fast as I can,” Malaika promised. “And then I’ll never leave you again. I swear it.”

But she couldn’t keep her promise to her brother. Next year on exactly the same day, at exactly the same time, she felt the pain split her head open again. For a second time she was rushed to hospital and Leruo had to survive the unhappy home without her there.

When Malaika was seventeen, on an icy Wednesday morning in July, the police came to take Leruo away. It was July 23, in the year 2008.

“I’m sorry,” the police officer told Malaika, “but your brother and his friends broke into a bottle store last night. We have his face clearly on the CCTV footage. There is no mistake.”

The months that followed were terrible. Malaika went to visit Leruo in the juvenile detention centre as often as she could. She watched as her beloved younger brother slowly turned into an angry, violent teenager. As angry and as aggressive as the other boys locked up in the detention centre. Malaika felt as though a rusty chainsaw were splitting her heart into bloody pieces.

I cannot bear this, Malaika thought as 2008 began a second time for her. I cannot let this happen to Leruo all over again.

And so, on the icy cold evening of Tuesday, July 22, Malaika put some sleeping pills into Leruo’s tea. There were plenty of sleeping pills in the house. Mama had many prescriptions from many different doctors.

Malaika thought: if I make sure Leruo falls fast asleep this evening, then he won’t go and see his friends. Then he won’t break into the bottle store with them. And then, tomorrow morning, there will be no police banging on our front door.

She called out, “Leruo, I’ve made some tea for us. Come sit with me in the kitchen.”

And Leruo came to sit with her. She smiled. Her plan was working. Leruo asked her for a biscuit, so she searched through the kitchen cupboards until she found a Lemon Cream. She watched with a smile as Leruo dunked his biscuit into his tea. She watched with a smile as he drank his tea. And she sat waiting for him to put his head down on the kitchen table and complain that he felt sleepy.

Yes, she thought, once he feels sleepy I will help him to his bedroom. I will cover him up warmly and kiss him on his forehead as he falls asleep…

Except it didn’t happen that way. It didn’t happen that way at all. Malaika was the one who passed out, fast asleep, right there with her head on the kitchen table! Leruo must have switched mugs while she was hunting for Lemon Creams!

Malaika woke to the sound of police banging on the front door. She was still there in the kitchen with her back feeling stiff and sore. With her head feeling drugged and woozy.

“I’m sorry,” said the police officer once more, “but your brother and his friends broke into a bottle store last night. We have his face clearly on the CCTV footage. There is no mistake.”

So once again Malaika had to watch as her beloved brother was taken away to the youth detention centre where he turned into an angry, aggressive teenager that she barely recognised.

That was also the year Auntie Sophie was finally discharged. Her doctor at the psychiatric clinic decided she was well enough to live in the community.

Auntie Sophie came to stay. She wandered around the house with a haunted look in her wide eyes. She tried to keep a smile fixed on her face. But sometimes she forgot she was supposed to be cured and happy.

Malaika often found her aunt muttering in the passage. Or beside the fence. Always the same words: “No, this is a brand new year. No, this has never happened before. It is not a repeat. I am cured. Wonderful Dr Chiabe and his pills fixed me up.”

Sometimes Auntie Sophie remembered to dress. But not always. Sometimes she wandered about in the street in her dressing gown and slippers.

Oh and then there was 2011 – another repeating year. Another year when the Curse doubled her pain.

That was the year she hooked up with Kabelo. KB the DJ: so tall, so handsome, so dreamy.

“Yeah, chick! You’re the babe for me, I reckon,” Kabelo told her. “Yeah, you’ve got a real cute butt on you!” He gave her a playful slap on her behind. “Yeah, all my guys are raving about that butt of yours. But don’t you go sharing yourself around, you hear me? I don’t want to see you flirting with my bra’s. I expect my women to be faithful. So you watch yourself, OK, babe? You behave yourself and be a good girl. Otherwise you’ll be sorry!”

Malaika fell head over heels in love. Now she would be happy, she told herself. Now the repetition of the years would stop.

***

Tell us: Is Kabelo the kind of guy you’d like to date? Why or why not?