Darkness, and the heavy rattle of hail, blocking out all other sound.

Masande couldn’t believe what she had just seen. The lightning came again, along with a mighty crack of thunder, both lasting several seconds. The scene was still the same, and now there was something vaguely familiar about one of the young men holding the victim down.

The man with the knife! He was looking up from the victim – straight at Masande as she stood there, drenched and staring through the window in horror. His mouth opened, saying or shouting something to one of the others. She couldn’t hear what it was, with the hail and thunder so loud.

Then the world went dark again, except for the slight light from the phone inside the house.

Masande knew she had to get away. She had seen something these men didn’t want people knowing about, or they wouldn’t have been doing it in this abandoned house.

She turned and started running again. The man with the knife might have been telling the other one to come after her and ensure she didn’t report what she had seen – telling him to shut her up.

She could be in danger.

Soaked, and knocked about by the hail and the heavy rain now coming down, she was struggling. She felt battered and bruised all over, the cut on her face was bleeding, and the rain stung her skin. The hail already on the road made it even more difficult to keep going.

All she could think of was the safety of home.

Then her intelligence kicked in. She was a witness, and if they caught up enough to see her reach safety, they would know where she lived.

There was a pause between thunderclaps and she thought she heard someone shouting behind her. She needed to hide.

She turned into a street that would take her away from the direction of home again. Would anyone in these houses hear her if she screamed for help? Would they be in time to save her?

Then she saw it, at the next corner – the container where she sometimes bought airtime. Skidding in the hail, she ducked round behind it and crouched down.

Nothing happened for several seconds, except that the hail stopped, and the rain got lighter. Then she heard running footsteps, and the rattle of fallen hail scattering under heavy feet. A swear word reached her, and laboured breathing.

She waited before peeping out into the street, in time to see a running figure disappearing round a curve in the road.

Masande crept out and ran the other way. She was shivering and crying when she reached home.

“Masande! Your face! And going out when a storm was coming! How could you?” Her mother was rough and fierce, pulling her inside. “What if you’d been struck, or washed away? Don’t you think we have enough grief in this family, with poor Choki …”

“I’m sorry, Ma,” Masande sobbed as her mother started to cry too, and they stood there, holding on to each other.

***

Tell us what you think: Is Masande right to believe she is unsafe, after what she witnessed?