Three weeks later. Portia and her mom are at home.

MUM CONNIE: (sitting on the edge of her daughter’s bed, looking worried) Portia, my baby…what’s going on? Lately, all we do is fight and you don’t look well, you hardly eat.

PORTIA: (dismissively) Ag, maybe I just overdid it when I was studying. All I need is some solid

rest and maybe a bit of a detox.

Mum Connie takes a long, hard look at her daughter.

PORTIA: I’ll be OK, Ma. It could just be a flu or something.

MUM CONNIE: Your marks are dropping significantly; you are out almost every weekend; and all these new clothes, and…

PORTIA: Oh please, Ma! Can’t you just be happy that someone loves me enough to spoil me?

MUM CONNIE: Portia Jocabeth Dlamini! Wake up, my girl! Is that what you think love is?

Portia rolls her eyes.

MUM CONNIE: My baby, you are still in school, ahead of a very important year. Let me tell you

something, matric is not pap en vleis. Does this someone even have a name?

PORTIA: What does it matter?

MUM CONNIE: It matters to me, my baby! (rests her hand on her chest) Portia, you forget that

I wasn’t born this age. I was also once young too. Bona, if this unknown person really loves you,

they’d let you focus on your education.

PORTIA: Oh here we go! (pulls duvet over her head)

MUM CONNIE: You are so smart and have so much potential. You could be a doctor or an

engineer. Please, my baby, don’t throw it all away.

Portia groans from under the duvet covers.

MUM CONNIE: O tla hopla mantswe aka, one day you will remember my words.

PORTIA: (muffled) Why do you always bring up death?

MUM CONNIE: Because that’s where we are all going, mabitleng. The graveyard does not

discriminate.

PORTIA: (mumbles) You’d swear you worked in the mortuary in a past life.

MUM CONNIE: What? Portia, o reng?

PORTIA: Nothing. Can I please just rest? (groans)

MUM CONNIE: Fine, but let me leave you with this thought. If you are having sex, I hope you

are protecting yourself.

PORTIA: (bolts upright) Ma!

MUM CONNIE: I know I’m not always able to get you the things you want, but I raised you to

make smart choices. One day we’ll be OK, and you’ll be your own boss, able to buy whatever

you want.

Tell us: From what age do you think teenagers should be telling their parents that they are dating? And should they tell them who they are dating?