“Ma, I think moving to Johannesburg is the best thing right now. Where else am I going to get a job? It’s hard to find anything well-paid here in Empangeni.”

I feel like we’ve been having this argument for hours. It’s already nearly time for supper.

“Ma, Zweli and I talked about this and he made valid points about sharing the responsibility for making money, about doing my duty as a son, and helping to provide for the family.”

How am I going to convince my mother that I am not her snot-nosed little boy anymore? The last thing I want to do is hurt her. But I have to do this. And I really need her blessing.

“I lost my husband and my eldest son to that godforsaken place,” she says. “I refuse to lose you too. People who go there lose their way. Why do you think Zweli hasn’t thought of coming home to visit us for over a year now? No, Muzi, you cannot go.”

She is raising her voice at me now! Why must she be so difficult?

“Mama, I am not Zweli. Or uBaba for that matter. I am doing this for you. I refuse to see you struggle when there is something I can do about it. Please, Mama, let me do this. Allow me to be a man and take care of our family,” I plead.

She gives me a long, searching look, then sighs. “When do you leave?” she says, finally resigned to the idea.

There, that wasn’t so bad! I know my mother hates the idea, but it’s the only way to ensure that she has a roof over her head and food to eat. This is the right decision.

I hope!

I won’t lie; I have my doubts too. I feel like I’m abandoning my mother. All the men in her life so far have left her to go live in the big city. But I’m not abandoning her, I tell myself. I’m different. My mother is my main focus. I just need to keep reminding myself why I’m doing this. It’s for my family.

I can hardly contain my excitement. I can’t believe I’m going to Jozi!

“I’ve arranged to go with Malume Joseph tomorrow, Mama. He is heading to Johannesburg to fetch his son. Zweli said he would wait all night at Park Station if he had to.”

“I’ll start preparing food to take on the journey, my boy. Share it with your uncle. And I’ll iron your shirts and fold your pants,” she says. Then she walks over to the stove where I’m standing in our small kitchen, and takes me in her arms.

“Muzi, please take care of yourself. Keep an eye on your brother and make sure you both come back to me in one piece. You are my precious gift from God. Don’t forget that. I love you. ”

She kisses me lovingly on my cheek. Then she sighs deeply again and starts pulling out pots and pans. I think it’s best if I let her busy herself with the travel preparations, to take her mind off the loneliness that lies ahead.

I need to go see Nokulunga now. I have no idea how she will take this.

***

Tell us: Do you think Nokulunga will understand?