I think we’re on the third cold front already since the beginning of winter. Usually, winter shocks people each year, and I truly am shocked by them this time around.

“Mama! I don’t want to wear the boots! I don’t want to wear shoes!”

Are toddlers constantly in need of naps? At what point is a hiding due? Yes, I still ask myself that question as a modern-day mom who’s unlearning violence as a language, okay? Also, to call it violence is not true; it’s violence with some love, see? Add some sparkle.

I take a deep breath;

“Bayede, ku ya banda. Kunyanzelekile ba unxibe iiboots. Jonga, zino Cocomelon!”

We are late for school drop-off. Yanga is on a work trip in London, and I am losing my mind. We have to be out of the house by 07:30, and the time is 07:45.

I took the boots with me, and I had cereal – cornflakes that are no longer crispy because toddlers take their precious time – in one hand; it was in a Minnie Mouse lunch box, she insisted on it, and the milk was spilling so even though I had everything else that I was carrying, I had to keep my hand straight because drops of milk kept spilling on the floor and I had to keep wiping because I don’t like sticky or dirty or wet floors.

The mop was in my hand at some point. I had it in one hand and a cup of cold Ceylon tea in the other because it’s a thing for mothers to never be able to have their tea hot. “Bayede! I’m leaving you here! I’m going to call the police because you are not being a good child, so they will take you to the fast swing at the park!” She is terrified of the merry-go-round and the police; it’s a “threat” that always seems to work. You see? I’m getting the hang of this modern-day mom thing. No violence in sight! While I am instilling fear and using it to my advantage, it’s better than a bruise.

I do not hear tiny feet running towards me, which is strange, so I turn back from the door and put down everything that I need to be ready to leave the house. I drop the lunch box with cornflakes in it by mistake, and my heart sinks because now I’m overwhelmed. I’m tired, I have to get to work, I am late, I have to wipe the floor, yet again, my toddler doesn’t want to listen to me, I’m by myself. I started to cry because what else is there to do? It’s a modern-day mom thing, I’ve heard.

“Bayede! Masambe!” I hear a loud bang outside. “You see? The Police are here to take you to the swings! Yiza, ngoku!” Then I heard MaLizwe scream, “Fezile!” in the loudest and heart-wrenching way ever, and I did not understand because why is this person who is always silent and can barely be heard speaking screaming my name? Did she fall? How did she know that I was still here? Where the hell is Bayede?

“Fezile!”

I can’t find Bayede, and my throat feels heavy. I’m trying not to think that Bayede went outside. I did not see or hear her leave. I’m a modern-day mom, and I don’t make mistakes.

“Fezile!”

I go to look for her in my bedroom.

“Fezile!”

My vision gets blurry, and I can’t hear. I ran to the play area, but nothing. I ran to the naughty corner, nothing.

“Fezile!” followed by a loud bang on the door. I realised then something had happened to Bayede.

She was hit by the bus that I was rushing to catch.

Tshollela moya wa hao Jesu. (Release your holy spirit, Jesus)
Tshollela moya hao Jesu. (Releasee your holy spirit, Jesus)
Dipelong tsa rona Jesu (In our hearts, Jesus)
Tshollela moya wa hao Jesu. (Release your holy spirit, Jesus)

“Ma’am, do you recall anything? What happened?” the ambulance personnel asked me.

“Last I checked, Bayede was screaming her lungs out because she didn’t want to hear anything about shoes. I picked her up so we could walk to school together and I could get to work. I just take the bus, it’s easier, and the stop is right next to her school. I called Yanga to try and get him to talk to her but didn’t reach him. I’m not even sure if I locked the house. She ran across the street to get to the other side and to run away from me. I had so many things that I was carrying, and I think I was even still getting dressed.”