Hopeless. That’s how Siya feels. Useless, and full of dread.

He scrolls down his cellphone until he hits Makhendlas’ digits. Makhendlas works for a logistics company that pays good salaries. He is Siya’s only hope now. But Siya’s call goes straight to voicemail. He texts instead.

Please, Makhendlas, don’t forget

about me. If a job comes up call me.

Please. Siya

Siya presses Send. Perhaps he shouldn’t have texted ‘Please’ twice. Was that too desperate?

Siya has been in this pit of hopelessness before. After he graduated he couldn’t find a job for a whole year. Three hundred and sixty-five days of waking up in this dark place every morning. And now he was here again.

He scrolls down his contacts until he finds Lunga – his best friend. On a day like this, when he wakes up in a negative state of mind, he can do with Lunga’s jokes and ‘never say die’ attitude.

True to form, Lunga answers with a laugh and booming voice: “Howzit, Siya, my brother?”

“Sho, Lunga. How’s it going with you? Things are bad on my side. Kunswempu ngempela, mfwethu.”

“Same here, Siya. I have sent applications everywhere, yonke indawo ongayicabanga, but not one reply as yet. But something will come up sooner rather than later, bro, don’t worry,” says Lunga.

“Where are you? You sound like you’re running.”

“Hayi, no Siya, I am digging trenches. My uncle got me a job at the company he works for. It is back-breaking work for just seventy rand a day.

“Seventy rand – that’s crazy! Can you even buy yourself anything with those peanuts they pay you?”

“You should have seen the look on my mother’s face when I told her I was taking this job,” says Lunga, laughing. “She looked like I just told her a relative has passed away. She was that disappointed.”

“Yo, Lungs, ubephoxeke ngaleyondlela?”

“I overheard her talking to her best friend on the phone: ‘Our children graduated from university for this? What has the country gone to? Yazi uyasihlanyela uhulumeni, mina ngizoqonda khona e Union Buildings ngibatshele ukuthi bangadlali ngezingane zethu’,” says Lunga, mimicking his mother’s shrill voice, and sending Siya into giggles. “I think she is embarrassed to tell people where I work. But I don’t blame her. Who’s heard of a Business Management graduate digging trenches?”

“Or a Business Management graduate pleading with a connection like Makhendlas to get him an interview? After a year of doing fuck all? Umuntu ejika nelanga 356 days?”

“No ijumpile, Siya. And wonke umuntu tells the same story. Umsebenzi awukho eSouth Africa. There are simply no good paying jobs.”

“Anyway Lunga, how come you finally took the job shoveling dirt?” says Siya. “I thought you said it was beneath you.”

Lunga laughs. “You know how it is. Months were dragging by and nothing was coming up. I just grew tired of asking Mom for cash for everything. And I could no longer stand rolling on the couch all day. With this job I have money for airtime and cosmetics at least. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be a grown man asking for money to buy a roll-on? With the pay from this job I have cash to fax and email my CV, at least.”

“I hear you, Lungs, that’s true. As it is now I am staring at my last fifty,” says Siya, looking down at the dirty note in his hand.

“Hey, if push comes to shove you can come here and dig trenches with me just to get out of the house.”

“The way things are going I am seriously considering it.”

“Before I forget, there’s a party at Zakwe’s in the suburbs this weekend. I will pick you up around one on Saturday afternoon. Zizowa strong, abantwana bechithiwe.”

“How can you think of parties in situations like these, Lunga? I am in no mood to party.”

“Hey, Siya, you have to get out of the house otherwise worries will kill you. And, tell me, what’s happening with you and my neighbor Thandeka? You ask about her, she asks about you. Can you two hook up already?”

“Did she ask about me again?” asks Siya. Sparks of attraction were instant when Siya had been introduced to Thandeka. Siya saw beyond her svelte figure, beautiful smile and flawless skin. What got Siya smitten is her bubbly personality and intelligent mind. Now his reflection in the bedroom mirror reveals a smile on his face for the first time in several weeks.

“Got to go, Siya. The site manager is looking at me funny,” says Lunga. “I am not taking no for an answer on the Saturday party. Plus Thandeka said she will go if you go. We’ll talk later.”

Siya’s mood is lighter after talking to Lunga. He switches on the LG sound system in his room – his pride and joy. He bought the sound system plus an LED TV in the nine months he was employed. He looks around his room, proud of all the appliances and clothes he bought when he was working. He had worked in short stints as a project manager in a small construction firm and as a manager in a catering company – three months here, six months there. He had made life at home comfortable. They were never behind on utility bills, and food was always plentiful in the fridge. Now work has dried up and he is feeling the strain.

His cellphone beeps:

Thandeka says pls come

with us to the party on Sat

L

OK, I will be there

S

He hits Send.

From his room in the back yard, Siya walks into the main house, humming. Lunga has definitely lifted his mood. He’s feeling positive about Makhendlas getting that interview for him.

His mother is sitting at the kitchen table, pot of Jungle Oats boiling on the stove. Her eyes are on the electricity bill in her hand.

“The electricity has gone up again. I will only pay half. We will have nothing to eat if I pay the full amount,” she says, handing him the bill.

Siya takes a look at it. “It rises every month. Worse is to come, Ma. I read somewhere they will hike it up again next year.”

“I pray every day that you get a job, my boy. Life was so much better when you were working. We had more than enough,” she says, staring out of the kitchen window with sadness in her eyes.

Siya hates it when she gets like this.

“Something will come up, Ma, sooner or later,” he says, removing the pot from the stove because it is starting to burn.

“I will sing my praises to God when that day comes,” she says, getting up to dish the oats. “Do you want oats?”

“No, Ma, I am fine. I am going to the tuck shop.”

Worries start to swarm around in Siya’s head again as he walks down the road. He has a pounding headache; he will buy headache tablets at the tuck shop. Then he stops in his tracks as his phone rings.

“Tomorrow at ten,” says the hoarse voice of Makhendlas at other end of the line.

“Tomorrow at ten? What is happening tomorrow at ten?”

“You are wasting my airtime with these questions. Meet me tomorrow morning at ten at the main gate at work. I have organized an interview with my supervisor. Don’t be late,” says Makhendlas.

Tomorrow at ten his life will change! Siya turns back home. He will save the fifty rand to get to the interview.

***

Tell us what you think: Will Siya get this job and change his life?