Everyone went out to break after the assembly. Liyabona started leaving too, but Yongama pulled her back. “That poem,” he said. “I read it and realised you didn’t tell me the whole story. What happened?”

“I tried to tell you,” said Liyabona. “But you didn’t listen.”

He winced. “That is something I have got to know about myself,” he said. “I sometimes don’t listen because I get so caught up in what I know is the right thing to do.”

She told him what had happened. “I’m sure we could have protected your brother,” he said.

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Dumile meant every word. He knew where I lived.” She looked down. “But then I felt so bad when that other girl was attacked.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she wiped them away.

They couldn’t carry on talking because they were becoming surrounded by kids who wanted to join the cleaning committee, including Kwezi. There were at least ten people per grade.

“I’m glad you all came,” Yongama said. “And we’re not only going to do the tough stuff. We can have fun too.” The group cheered, and Yongama wrote their names down, organised their first meeting time. Then they all trooped down to the toilets to have a professional look.

“Come with us,” Yongama said to Liyabona, and so she walked next to him, behind the Principal. He walked into the toilet block first and came out, looking shocked.

“This is terrible,” the Principal said. Liyabona realised he had never seen the actual state of them before.

“We will list the ones that need unblocking, so you can follow up with a plumber,” Yongama answered him. “And we will demonstrate at the Department for this if you need us to.”

“I will see what we can do,” said the Principal, still looking shaken. “I had no idea they were this bad. And when you start I will send Archie with black bags, and whatever else you need. Also, I think you need to work with the School Governing Body. It can give you some guidance too.” He strode off.

“He can’t get away quickly enough,” one of the learners muttered.

“OK guys,” Yongama said to all of them. “I will be here Thursday, straight after school. We will make a start then. I know you aren’t plumbers, don’t worry, we will just do what we can. And,” he said, looking at the graffiti, “I will also bring some paint.”

The rest of the group drifted off to break, and then they were alone again, the two of them. “I’ve missed this,” Yongama said. “College is great, but I miss people, I miss–”

“You miss being the boss and telling people what to do,” said Liyabona, teasing him.

He smiled. “You’re right,” he said. “I miss that feeling of being a leader, being someone who can make a difference. That’s why it’s good to be doing this.” He touched her arm. “Join the committee. It would be great to have you.”

“OK,” she said. Did this mean he liked her? Or that he wanted an extra set of hands for the toilets? “In fact I’ve even got a poem about toilets – about these exact stinky toilets,” she said.

“That’s great,” he said. “I’m sure we can use it when we run our campaign with the Department.” He took down her cellphone number. The other numbers he had written on a list. But this one, Liyabona noticed, he punched into his phone.

They strolled together to the front of the school. Then he stopped, and turned to face her. “Perhaps you can write a poem about something else,” he said, and he stroked her cheek. “Maybe you can write a poem about me.”

“What would I write about?” Liyabona could feel her heart beating fast, but not in the old ways of fear and shame. Now it was excitement.

“Well, I guess that’s for you to decide,” he said. “I hope it will be a good poem this time. Tell you what. Come for a walk with me on Saturday morning. For your poem research. And then you can decide exactly what kind of poem you want it to be.”

She smiled, nodded. Just then the Vice Principal came up. “Ah, Yongama, I’ve been looking for you. Thank you very much. We just want to put you in touch with the chair of the School Governing Body so that you can arrange a meeting about this issue.”

“I’ll call you,” Yongama mimed as he walked off talking to the Vice Principal.

After school she met her brother as usual. He was full of admiration for Yongama. “Did you see how everyone listened to him, Liya? He is such a strong speaker.”

Liyabona’s phone beeped and she looked at the message.

“Why are you smiling at your phone, Liya?” Kwezi asked.

She shook her head. “No reason. Tell me more about your day, Kwezi. Did you guys race again at break?”

But she hardly listened to him. She was just remembering the words of the SMS which said:

lukng 4ward 2 sat.

Hope 4 a poem bout luv…

***

Tell us: Yongama admits he doesn’t always listen. Why do you think it is important to listen carefully to others?