Aza has been climbing since sunset. Her numb fingers struggle against the nooks and crannies of the mountain as her knees tremble the higher she ascends. The silence of the night invites thoughts of the past days. Tears well up in her eyes as the image of Andile’s dead body flashes through her mind.
Come on, Aza, now is not the time.
Pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind, she decides it’s time to find a place to rest for the night. In a stroke of luck, she finds a cave tucked under an outcrop. Curling up, she tries to fall asleep despite the bitter cold.
The next morning, she wakes to a scratching sound. She blinks in the dark and grabs her bag, her pillow for the night. But before she reaches the mouth of the cave, her arm is yanked. Her yelp hasn’t even escaped her mouth by the time she’s pressed against the wall.
“Aza, listen.”
Fear bolts through her at the sound of Langa’s voice.
“You! Let me go!” She tries to wriggle out of his grip.
Aza’s attempts at pushing him off are futile.
“I am not here to hurt you,” he says, his grip relaxing a bit.
“Like hell you aren’t!” she bites out, unleashing another kick.
“Could you please just listen to me? Please!”
The desperation in his voice causes her to be still. Langa never says please.
“All I am asking for is a chance to tell you my side of the story. After that, you can leave.”
“Two minutes.”
Langa lets go of her and takes a step back.
“Everyone has turned their backs against me. No one wants to listen to a word I’m saying. I want people to understand that I had no control over myself I-”
“Okay, I’m leaving. I refuse to sit and listen to any more of this pity party,” Aza says.
“I didn’t mean to kill Andile. It wasn’t me!” Langa shouts.
Anger surges inside Aza’s body. “Keep his name out of your mouth!”
“It all happened so fast. One minute my brother and I are laughing, and the next, I am watching him lying lifeless on the ground.” His voice cracks, “and I had this sick feeling in my stomach that I was responsible.”
“That’s because you were!”
“When I turned eighteen, Dad took me to see Dlangamandla. They explained what the curse was and what needed to be done. We spent two weeks by the river. Dlangamandla throwing bones over and over again, cutting me and shoving herbs in the wounds all in the effort to cleanse me,” Langa continues.
She snorts.
“Curses are curses, Aza. They can’t be cleansed away. It’s fate.”
“And your confession?” Aza counters. “You seemed proud of your actions then.”
“I don’t even remember what I did to him. All I know is that the curse was never gone. Yes, I killed Andile, but it wasn’t me. I wasn’t in control.”
Something in Aza wants to believe him.
“I want to help. Let me help you save the village for Sibusiso, for mama. For Andile,” he says, taking hold of her hand and almost begging.
“I don’t need your help,” she says, snatching her hand away.
“This is a very dangerous mountain to climb alone, Aza. You need someone to look out for you, and I’m here willing to help. I want this curse gone as much as you want so I can return to the village and be with my people.”
Aza hesitates though she can’t ignore the truth in his words: having someone to help climb will make everything easier.
“You can come with me, but I swear on Andile’s grave I will kill you if you try something,” Aza says, walking out of the cave with Langa’s footsteps following behind her.
Tell us: What do you think Aza should have done?