I had just got out of a taxi from work when I received a call from my sister Mbali, telling me that 

she’s pregnant. At first, I did not believe her because I thought it’s another one of her pranks. I 

was too tired from work and so I asked her to stop playing around. 

“Nonhle it’s true. I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do.”

I stood dumbfounded in the middle of the street and did not hear anything else she said. How 

could it be? What are we going to do? How are we going to tell our parents? I quickly gathered 

myself and asked her when did she find out. 

“I was at the clinic this morning,” said Mbali crying. “Nonhle, I think I have to get an abortion. 

The nurse asked me about it but I wanted to let you know first. Mom can’t find out about this.” 

Our call got cut and I realised she must have run out of airtime. I hurriedly went to buy one at the 

nearby tuckshop. 

Mbali is my younger sister. She’s a second-year law student at UFS. I remember when I 

accompanied her all the way to Bloemfontein to assist her with registration last year. She’s the first 

one at home to go to university and we were all so happy and proud of her. Our older brother 

Zakes is a taxi driver and has recently started working as a delivery guy for Uber Eats and Mr D. 

Our parents have worked very hard to give us a better life. I can never forget the disappointment 

in my mother’s face when she found out I was pregnant at Grade 10. She avoided speaking to me 

for four months, until my father asked her to forgive me. My son was born and my mom smiled 

softly as she held him in her arms. I went back to school to finish my grade and mom hired a 

babysitter. She was very pleased when I made it to Grade 12, but it did not last long because she 

found out that I had fallen pregnant again. 

“You have humiliated this family Nonhle and you have made a mockery of me at church,” she 

yelled at me. “You are supposed to set a good example to your sister. You are a spoilt child and I 

have given up on you. I am not going to raise that baby.”

This time, even dad could not intercede on my behalf. It became apparent that I will have to drop 

out of school in order to take care of my two children. I got a job as a cashier at Checkers. Luckily, 

I had Mbali, who loved and adored my babies. She willingly helped me with them wherever she 

could. Mbali loved children and that’s why I could not allow her to get rid of her own. It was now 

my turn as her older sister to be there for her. I recharged my cell phone with airtime and dialled 

her back. 

“Mbali, I know how frustrating and frightening this is but I am here for you. Don’t worry, I will 

speak to mom and make her understand. Do you really want to terminate your pregnancy?”

“No, but…”

“Then don’t. I will take care of the child. Please focus on your studies dadewethu and leave 

everything else to me.” 

I managed to calm her down and by the end of the call, we were both laughing and looking forward 

to having a little baby. 

***

I got home and saw an ambulance on the street next to our house. I saw my dad being taken inside 

it and I rushed to find out what had happened. 

“Nonhle mntanami, your father had a stroke,” said mom as she hugged me. “I tried calling you and 

your brother but you both weren’t answering your phones. Please don’t say anything to Mbali for 

now. I don’t want her to panic.” 

My brother Zakes arrived and we all went to the hospital. The three of us prayed together for my 

father’s life. My father worked as a car mechanic and my mother was a teacher at Aldinville Primary 

School. We stayed at the hospital for a while until the nurses told us to go home. 

As we drove back home, I couldn’t help thinking about the predicament in which I found myself.

I realised that I had to keep Mbali’s pregnancy a secret for now, while keeping dad’s illness a secret 

from Mbali. 

***

Dad came home after a couple of weeks but had to go to physiotherapy four times a week because 

he was unable to move his left arm. Mom still insisted that we do not tell Mbali about dad’s minor 

stroke. 

“I don’t want anything to bother my little girl. I want her to focus on her studies. University is no 

joke, not that you two would understand.”

My brother and I decided to leave it at that. 

One day during lunchtime at work, I went to Ackerman’s to buy some clothes for Mbali’s baby. 

They were so tiny and cute that I could not resist taking photos and sending them to Mbali. She 

loved them. I got home and hid the clothes in my wardrobe. I took off my uniform and went to 

take a bath but suddenly overheard my mom talking on the phone.

“Mbali is the only child I’m proud of and I know my baby would never disappoint me. Unlike her 

elder siblings who both have no matric,” said mom, who suddenly saw me standing near the 

bathroom door. “Nonhle mntanami I didn’t realise you were back from work. Dinner is on the 

table.” 

She continued with her conversation with her sister. I was used to such talk and I could not say 

anything about it. 

***

The following day I received a call from mom while I was at work. 

“Nonhle, I just saw brand new baby clothes in your wardrobe and I hope you are not pregnant 

again my dear. If you are, I want you to come home right now and pack your things and leave my 

house. I will not live with a woman who has three kids and no husband; over my dead body.” She 

shouted angrily. 

I calmed her down and told her the clothes were for my friend’s baby shower. I assured her that I 

was not pregnant. 

“I would have killed you with my bare hands Nonhle. It’s fine then. Let me call your sister and 

find out how she’s doing at varsity. See you later.” 

Mom had always been proud of Mbali and enjoyed bragging about how she has never given her 

any trouble. She was happy that her daughter followed her house rules, completed her high school, 

remained a virgin and will soon be a university graduate. ‘My very own lawyer’, she had already 

started calling her. 

The time for school holidays came and Mbali managed to tell mom and dad she won’t be coming 

home because she had two supplementary exams to write. They understood and wished her the 

best for the exams. Mom sent her some money. 

***

Months passed and I finally received a call from a nurse at a hospital in Bloemfontein, informing 

me my sister had given birth. I was overjoyed. I packed some clothes for the baby and booked the 

next available bus to Bloemfontein. I wondered if now was the time to tell my mom but decided 

perhaps she should see the baby first; certainly it would melt her heart. I took the bus and got to 

Bloemfontein the following morning. I found my way to the hospital and asked for Sister Tsotetsi, 

the nurse I had spoke to over the phone. 

“You’re finally here. Please come this side my dear.” 

I followed her to her office. I told her how excited I was to be an aunt and asked if I could see my 

sister and the baby. 

“The baby is fine, but I’m afraid there’s some terrible news I need to tell you first. There were 

some complications and your sister died after giving birth. I’m very sorry.” 

The only thing I remember is that I let out the loudest scream and passed out. I woke up after an 

hour and the nurse brought the baby to me. I felt so sad and I cried so much as I held her in my 

arms. I named her Mbali. You looked just like your mother. I took you home and introduced you 

to your grandmother, grandfather and uncle. They were so happy to see you, but deeply hurt by 

the death of your mother. She was very important to us and we will always love her. I’m very sure 

she would have loved you more than anything in the world. 

“You know what’s strange? Sometimes I feel like she’s with me and she’s watching me.”, said 

Mbali to her aunt. 

“That’s because she is, my child. She’s with you as your guardian angel. Always there to protect 

you. Just like your grandfather. May their souls rest in peace.”; responded mom, Mbali’s 

grandmother, as she closed the family album. 

The End…