Everything was now going well for me, and I was in control for the first time in my life. I thought I was in a dream. I was so in love that I couldn’t see things clearly. I changed my mind, and no longer wanted to go to Cape Town.

Lizo and I used to relax and enjoy each other’s company at the foot of Zepe Hill. We were free. We knew that we would be in big trouble if anyone found out about our relationship, so we hid in a cave at the foot of the hill. Not even a hawk could notice us there. The cave was facing the west, nicely hidden, and with wattle trees in front of it. Nobody knew about it.

At sunset I would sneak away from the other boys, with whom I herded livestock, so that I could get to the foot of Zepe Hill. After a while, Lizo would follow, pretending to be searching for a lost lamb; and would go to the spot without being noticed. By the time he arrived I would be already waiting for him, admiring the darkness as it crept in. He would hold me with his warm hands, and praise the beauty of the earth, comparing it to the beauty of his love for me.

“You see, Thobani,” he said pointing at the glowing sky, “This is a beautiful picture. If I could have a camera, I would take a picture of you looking at the mountains afar.”

When I asked whether he had ever touched a camera, he boasted that he had a good eye and a natural talent. Indeed, I would hear him criticising photos in newspapers and book illustrations, implying that he could do better.

“After capturing that picture, I would give it to you so that you could hang it on your wall, to remind yourself of the good times we shared together,” he said, holding me tight in his arms. I prayed that these moments would grow into years.

“You’re such a dreamer, Lizo,” I said teasing him.

“You know, Thobani, you will see. I will be a photographer, with my own material,” he said convincingly. “I will study photography.”

I wanted to laugh but stopped myself, as I knew that his father, Vezuhlanga, would never accept that.

“How will you convince the Chief?” I asked, worried. “Our people don’t believe in jobs they do not know. They know about teachers, nurses, doctors and lawyers.”

* * * * *

Lizo continued to be determined to become a photographer. After his Matric examinations, he discussed it with his father. Vezuhlanga was so adamant in denying him, to the extent that he said no son of his would have a “joke for a job”.

I heard all this from Lizo one night when he was visiting me in my room. He looked sad.

“Thobani, you were right,” he said, sitting next to me. “Father doesn’t understand me.” I listened to him attentively. “That man just laughed at me when I told him that I wanted to study photography.”

I was not shocked at all. Vezuhlanga was expecting better from Lizo. He was expecting Lizo to show interest in following his footsteps, as he was following his father’s. That was what was expected.

“He asked me what kind of a chief I would be, just busy taking photos. He sees this as useless and non-dignified. Is this how you see it, Thobani?” he asked, and I didn’t know how to respond as I, also, didn’t think of photography as a job.

“It is good,” I said lying to him. “It is very good.”

There was silence in the room. Lizo paced as if he was mad.

“I don’t want to be a chief. He thinks that I will replace him in the coming years. I will never!”

“You can’t run away from being a chief, Lizo. You are your father’s only son.” I tried to say these words with all the care I could afford, as I didn’t want to see him more heartbroken.

He mumbled something I didn’t hear well. Then he left, leaving me still asking him to repeat what he had said. I only remembered his last words: “Whatever happens, please don’t forget me.”

He had left me with a book full of pictures. I asked myself many questions. Should I open it? He had never let me touch that book. But that night I did touch it for the first time. When I opened it, I saw things that left me astounded. I didn’t know that he was a painter! He had painted me holding a lamb, under a tree. But the illustration that left my heart warm was that of two people who were sitting on a hilltop, just like Zepe Hill, holding each other, as they watched the sunset.

The next day I was burning to go to Zepe Hill, the picture still fresh in my mind. I was going to apologise to Lizo for looking down upon his talent.

* * * * *

I sat, watched the sun setting, with great interest. But after sunset Lizo was still not to be found there. At last, I decided to leave; as the stars were already shining my way. I cheerlessly forced myself to go home. My mind was filled with many thoughts − maybe he had escaped? Or he was still hiding for a while? But that day and night ended with me having heard nothing from Lizo.

* * *

Tell us what you think: Is Lizo no longer interested in Thobani? What made him disappear?