Sphiwe is fuming. He can hear Sindisiwe sniffling in the other room, but it makes him happy that his sister still has a conscience to feel bad about lying and pocketing the money for the choir trip that never was.
His mind swiftly shifts to Zinhle’s beautiful eyes and his heart warms up with love. Zinhle has not been answering his calls and hasn’t replied to his SMSs and WhatsApp messages for over a week now. Zinhle’s smile and eyes appear in Sphiwe’s mind until he brings her into focus. His anger against Sindisiwe fades completely.
Zinhle has worked too hard in school. She’s the one who came up with the idea of starting a study group. I can’t let her throw away her future just like that, Sphiwe thinks, I’ll go and see her.
He puts on his shoes and heads out. Zinhle’s home is 15 minutes away. She lives in a one-room shack built from corrugated iron. Sphiwe finds her sitting on a chair outside the shack.
“Hi, Zinhle,” says Sphiwe.
“Sphiwe!” Zinhle is shocked.
“Is your mother home?”
“No. Why are you here, Sphiwe?”
“I’m here because I’m worried about you, Zinhle. Why haven’t you been to school this week? Why haven’t you been answering my calls? What’s going on with you?” asks Sphiwe.
“It’s nothing you should be worried about, Sphiwe. I’m fine,” she says. She glances at him and looks away.
“Really? It can’t be nothing if it’s kept you away from school all week. You missed the History test we wrote today. Did you even remember we were writing the test?”
Zinhle doesn’t respond. Something takes form in her face; it’s as if the mighty demons of rage and resentment have possessed her.
“Zinhle, are you even listening to me? School is important! School is-”
“Stop it, will you? I know all of that,” she snaps.
“So why haven’t you been coming to school?”
“It’s none of your business, Sphiwe!”
“Come on, don’t say that. You know I care about you. I know how much you care about school.”
“Well if you must know, I haven’t been able to come to school because my mom left me here alone without food or money. She left last week to visit one of her boyfriends in Pietermaritzburg and I don’t know when she will be back, so I have just been down.”
“Sorry to hear that but you should have told me, or Samke or Thando. We could have helped you with food. School is-”
“I’m pregnant, Sphiwe,” she says with her soft, sweet voice. Tears roll down from her eyes.
Sphiwe’s throat tightens. “What? How? When? No, Zinhle!”
“I’m serious. I went to the clinic on Monday and the nurses confirmed it. It’s true that mom left last week, but the real reason I haven’t been coming to school this week is because I found out I’m pregnant.”
Sphiwe feels his knees getting weak.
“Who’s the father?” Sphiwe asks after a long pause.
“No, Sphiwe.”
His knees get weaker now. He crouches to be closer to her. “Maybe I don’t really want to know who the father of -”
“Sbongiseni is the father. Mr Sbongiseni Khuzwayo, our History teacher,” Zinhle rises from the chair and turns her back on Sphiwe.
Sphiwe looks at her in shock. “The one and only Mr Khuzwayo?”
Zinhle nods. Sphiwe sighs heavily like a burst bubble letting out air. He slumps down on his haunches and sinks deep into his thoughts.
***
Tell us: What should Zinhle do? What should Sphiwe do?