Vusi finishes writing his exam and heads for the clinic. His run slows down to a walk, because he is weak from lack of food. He can think of nothing but his sick grandmother.

His friend, Patrick, calls and whistles for him to stop. Vusi doesn’t hear him. He has blocked out the world around him. Patrick runs after him and taps Vusi on the shoulder, startling him. Vusi swings around and instinctively punches him, knocking him to the ground.

“Eish! Sorry, Patrick, my brother. My mind is going mad,” says Vusi, shocked at what he has done. He pulls Patrick up from the dusty gravel road.

“No, it’s fine, bra yami (my brother),” says Patrick. “I understand your troubles. I should not have startled you. How is Gogo?”

“Things are bad, Pat. We took Gogo to the clinic in the morning. They called for an ambulance to take her to the hospital. I’m going to the clinic to hear what happened. On top of that I’m sure I failed because I didn’t get the time to study.”

“Sorry to hear that,” says Patrick. “But I’m sure you did well in the exam. Do you have food at home?”

“That part is even worse, Pat. We have eaten only porridge for the past week. And now we have run out of maize meal. What kills me is that no-one cares about us. Our relatives at the big house don’t give a damn. Our uncles don’t care. Don’t even get me started on my mother.” Vusi can’t hold the tears back. “She couldn’t care less whether I’m dead or alive.”

“Don’t cry, Vusi,” says Patrick holding back his own tears. “Your situation breaks my heart. What will become of you and Sakhile if Gogo passes away?”

“We will become street kids. I don’t even know my father’s surname. I don’t know who I am. If I knew that at least, my soul would be at ease.”

“Don’t trouble yourself with that now. You have to–”

“No, Pat! I’m tired of people telling me not to trouble myself with that. I need to find my father. I need to know my surname!”

“I understand, Vusi. Why are they hiding that from you? Old people and their damn secrets!”

They are close to the clinic when they see the village drunk, Somdali, staggering out of the gates of the tavern. He is heading straight towards them. Somdali has a beer bottle in his hand, his other hand is in his trouser pocket. He lifts the beer bottle, greeting the boys. They greet back and carry on walking.

“Hhayi bo!” Somdali mumbles. “I came out of the tavern because I saw you boys. Don’t ignore me. Stop, you bastards!”

They stop.

“Is that you, Vusumuzi?” Somdali slurs, squinting at Vusi. “Where’s your mother?”

“She lives in KwaHlabisa now,” says Vusi.

“You know, Vusi, me and your mother were great lovers.” Somdali can’t even stand straight. “People used to catch us hiding in bushes and dark corners doing what lovers d–”

Somdali doesn’t finish what he is saying because Vusi jumps on top of him, yelling: “What’s that, old man? What did you just say about my mother?” He is about to strike Somdali.

Patrick pulls Vusi away. “He is just a drunk, Vusi. He’s not worth it.”

Somdali takes forever to get up. “Your mother was my woman,” he giggles. “I had her wrapped around my fingers!”

***

Tell us: Is it possible Somdali really is Vusi’s father?