Some people have the worst luck and it follows them like a dark cloud. I figure I am now one of that cohort.

After my best buddy gets shot and lies fighting for his life on a hospital bed, we turn state witness so they can lock up Mashamplane, and we avoid jail time.

It’s January 23rd, and the courts are open for business. It’s a cold Monday morning, and I know how cold Delmas gets. I pull out my best winter clothes: the camouflage coat and matching boots I scored last year.

I meet up with Cosmo and Luke outside Mashona Police station, “Ek sê, gents, are you ready to tell the truth and nothing but the truth!?” I ask jokingly.

We all laugh. Cosmo turns to me, “How’s Nkosi doing? Any word from the hospital or his family?”

I shrug my shoulders.

We walk in, and, to my surprise, Khethiwe is here. I rush over to her, “I didn’t know you’d be here!” I say, my heart racing.

She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek, “It’s OK, you don’t have to talk. And Nkosi said he’s gonna be fine, he misses you. I was with him yesterday at his family home. He is out of the hospital but still in great pain. He also said good luck in court, please help lock that dog away for good.” She pauses, “Oh, I ended things with my boyfriend. This time I am sticking around for good.”

I feel butterflies in my stomach, “Oh, Khethiwe you just made me the happiest fool in Mashona. Thanks for staying.” I caress her shoulder, “OK, let’s do this.”

We are escorted to the transport that is taking us to Delmas Magistrates’ court. The four of us climb in to the van and enjoy the free ride. When we arrive in Delmas, the weather is cold, as expected.

Khethiwe is dressed in a black pleated skirt and silk shirt. She brushes up against me, “Seun, I feel cold. Please get me coffee from the stand outside.”

“OK, no worries. I will be back in five.”

There’s a queue at the coffee stand. I get in line behind an old timer glancing at a newspaper. I get the coffee. I turn around, only to see a white woman standing next to two bikers pointing directly at me. I don’t recognise her so I stay calm and go about my business.

The white woman starts shouting, “That’s my husband’s jacket and boots!”

I toss the coffee and make a run for it. But the two bikers catch me.

“I swear these things belong to my husband and I can prove it. Check under the inner tag on the jacket and you’ll find his name!” the white woman cries out.

The bikers check the tag, and there the name is: William Jackson.

I think, damn! This is bad, real bad. I fight the bikers. I manage to knock out the huge guy, and have the blonde one in a choke hold.

Khethiwe appears in front of us, “Seun, what are you doing? They are waiting on you in court!”

I feel powerless against her words. I let go of the biker, they both get up and take me straight to the judge.

First, I testify to put Mashamplane away for a very long time. Then I attend my case. “Seun Mshengu, for your crimes in Delmas, you’ll serve a six year sentence at Boksburg state prison!” says the judge and throws down the gavel.

I watch as tears fill Khethiwe’s eyes. She won’t look at me any more.

As I am being led out of the court house, Khethiwe rushes at me with a hug. “Seun, I feel responsible because from an early age I am the one who always inspired you to push for a bigger score yet play it safe. Why didn’t you play it safe? You should have played it safe!” she whispers, panting, and kisses me passionately on the lips.

The officer pulls us apart.

“Seun, please, never forget me!” she shouts with a weary tone.

“Ngiyakuthanda, Khethiwe! Please wait for me…” I reply.

As the van pulls out of the courtyard, I see a smile, and tears of joy run down her cheeks. “I will wait for you, I know you’ve learnt your lesson,” her lips read.

Tell us: Do you think their love will survive? Has Seun learnt his lesson?