Outside the boarding house Sithandile stand with her friends and other matriculants from her school. This is the boarding house Sithandile resided in for her past high-school years. It is in the evening, and they are preparing to walk together to a nearby garage in order to get the matric results newspaper as soon as it arrives.
Qhama: Come on, guys, there is no use being grumpy and miserable now. You studied, you wrote, and now it’s time to go see your results. If you failed, you failed.
Qiqa: Stop it, Qhama! Don’t act like you aren’t worried about seeing your results. We have the right to worry, even if it won’t change anything.
Qhama: Exactly! It won’t change anything. So, would you rather find out that you failed after worrying for so long, or would you rather find out that you failed in a happy mood?
Qiqa: It doesn’t matter! Just let us be and stop with your stupid argument.
Qhama: Answer the question, which one do you prefer?
Qiqa: I won’t answer that. You cannot force me to answer your nonsensical question.
Qhama: Because you know I am—
Sithandile: Stop it, guys, this is no time to be arguing. We should get ready to go to the garage.
Qiqa: I am ready,
Sithandile: OK, Qhama, please tell everyone that we can go.
Qhama: (putting his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets) Nah, I will pass; I am too cool to be addressing people.
Sithandile: (rolling her eyes) Come on, just say it.
Qhama: (defeated) Fine. Hey, everyone, I think we should start walking to the garage.
Everyone mobilises after hearing this.
Sithandile: See? I told you.
Qhama: Whatever. Qiqa, please give us a song, we cannot walk in silence.
Qiqa: (in a loud voice) Uyalelwa usomandla…
Everyone: Aah!
Qhama: (shaking his head and staring at her) Not a worship song, Qiqa, come on. We won’t get to the garage before midnight if we start worshipping now. We will all literally “bow down and worship Him,” as Benjamin Dube says. A gwijo song, please!
Qiqa: (annoyed) Well…why don’t you start the song if you want it to be anything other than gospel?
Qhama: Are you insinuating that I am a heathen?
Sithandile: (in a loud voice) Thina siyazalana…
Everyone: Zumpeee mntakamama, zumpee haa…
Along the way, the singing dies out.
Sithandile: Qhama, do you have your phone with you?
Qhama: Yes, why?
Sithandile: We are about to see the paper, it would be good to tell our families about our results.
Qiqa: Speak for yourself, I don’t have any intentions of telling my family about my results.
Sithandile: (with an empathic tone) Aah, is your mother still grieving your father?
Qiqa: (with a defensive tone) Of course she is, Sithandile, he literally just died.
Sithandile: (also defensive) Oh OK, sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.
Qiqa: What did you mean then, how could my mother be over my father literally a month after his death?
Sithandile: I don’t know, I was just…
Qiqa: Just what? Some of us loved our fathers, Sithandile, while they were still alive. We are not all as bitter and arrogant as you are.
Qhama: Whoa, Qiqa, that was uncalled for.
Qiqa: What, Qhama? It’s the truth, Sithandile likes acting like a victim when she should just reach out to her father and speak to him if she badly wants him in her life!
Sithandile: (pointing at her) Jonga apha, Qiqa, I know you are hurt about your father’s passing, but that doesn’t give you the right to belittle my experience with my father, OK? So please chill.
Qiqa: (folding her arms) You are right, I am hurt because he is gone. What about you? Your father is still alive, you have a chance to fix things with him.
Sithandile: Fix things? Qiqa, there is nothing to fix. My father and I are strangers. Your father loved you and he cared, unlike my useless one.
Qhama: Yho, ladies will you please chill? There is no need to discuss such deep and personal matters like this. We are in public, and you are both just stressed so please stop it.
Qiqa: She started it.
Qhama: Aah, Qiqa, please? (Qiqa listens and keeps quiet). Thank you.
Tell us: What do you think of Qiqa and Sithandile’s argument? Can you relate to either one of them?