Time. I want to finish this interview already. I barely got any sleep and it’s three o’clock in the morning. Every time I look at my sisters though, I can’t help but think that our lives depend on me getting this job. I have been preparing for it day and night, and it’s taken everything out of me.

Bath. I mix my water to become lukewarm in the wash basin in front of me. This is one of the many reasons why. I was born to live a luxurious life, nobody has ever told me that but I believe it. Surely the death of my parents and selling fatcooks for an entire six years should have convinced me that poverty is my portion, but I am all dressed up now because I believe not. I just know I was destined for greater.

It’s still so dark outside, the clean cold air hitting my skin reminds me of my golden primary school days. We would wake up so early because there were many of us, so we had to share the wash basins. Even then, nothing was extraordinary about the school I went to, we were rarely to dream big or that we were going to be greater in life, but I knew that I wasn’t going to end up like most people in my village for I thought not the same way they did.

Many of my schoolmates must have been laughing when they saw me on these school gates or at the doors of public transportation practically begging people to buy from me so my sisters could sleep on a full stomach. Most of them believed I was arrogant, but I wasn’t that, I just aimed higher and stopped at nothing to achieve my goals. But the Lord has been good because He provided, even when I thought I had had my last meal in this life, He pulled through for my sisters and I. I know He hears my prayers. He is also one of the reasons why.

As I get inside this van, all faces turn, struggling to hide their surprise at my outfit for today. They are used to me wearing what could pass as rugs. I keep my head down while trying to reduce my anxiety, I cannot afford to demonstrate any weakness in front of my interviewer, they must know that I am there to win the job.

It’s a long line, had I let my anxiety win I would be long gone by now. The people in this line are intimidating, I am probably the youngest here. I keep looking out the window, remembering a song my granny used to love, “Kubhetele ndizithande mna; ndinento zam. Ndilapha kwamakhelwane, ‘khawuzondilanda.” It means that I am right to think I am worthy because I have my own things, in fact I am at my neighbor’s house please come fetch me. Yeah. My grandmother was so rich, not monetarily, but in her mind. I learnt from her to not let poverty consume me.

“Ongezwa Ngqobela.”

My heart skipped a beat. I look up to see a Black women dressed in red and black. She looks quite confident, I guess that comes with knowing you carry the future of many in your hands. I sit down opposite her. She scans through my CV and asks me to tell her a bit about myself. I take a deep breath in. I crammed this answer last week on my way home in the darkness of loadshedding. I try to speak, but my brain refuses to retrieve the words for me to speak. So I do what I do worst; speaking from my heart.

“I was raised by my grandmother. She taught me independence and resilience, not through parables and analogies, she did through living her life in front of me. I loved her and wanted to give her the world. But she passed away before I could and so did my parents. I dropped out of UCT during my second year to take care of my sisters. I live my life to prove myself right in thinking that I am different, and in a special kind. My sisters are my life. And they are one of the reasons why.”

She smiles a little. “Tell me about your UCT story.”

I take another deep breath and begin answering her. I am really so unsure about the words coming out of my mouth because I cannot hear myself when I am this nervous. She nods every now and then. We move on to other questions. After a while, she thanks me for coming and dismisses me. Just before I open the door, I turn back to ask,

“Did I get the job?”

“Oh dear I cannot know that for sure, as I said I will contact you.”

“I am sorry but that won’t work for me. My grandmother and mother live through me, I am the only parent my sisters have. I will get through this, I will go back to my life of being a vendor and I will be okay. But my sisters? I can’t have them carry this burden also, I want to live my life and fulfill my purpose so they don’t have to. So tell me what to tell them.”

“I… empathize with you but this is a huge company and we need people with experience and you lack that.”

“Okay, understood. I am worth it though, as inexperienced as I am, I am worth this job. If you can’t see that, Iet me prove it.”

Slowly, I move towards the door. Well, there goes that dream. Disappeared. Into the thin dry air like my relatives did after my parents died. Disappeared. Into the ocean with immeasurable water, who was I to think my small mug would make a difference? It’s just a drop, like the tear I just shed.

“Let her have it.”

A man in a black suit comes in with those words. The lady looks as perplexed as I am. The muscles of her mouth fail her because she opens and closes her mouth but nothing comes out. Typical Yonelisa, never thought I would see her tongue-tied, not after hearing all the rumors she used to start and all the fights she would start with that same mouth. She was definitely one of the reasons why, her bullying didn’t kill me, and it didn’t make me stronger, it made me resent myself for the longest time at school. But my academics were my way out because I knew they couldn’t take away grades the same way they took away my confidence.

“She is what the business needs, there is something about her strong-willed nature. Whether or not her story is true, storytelling like hers, is what marketing needs. I bought the story, she can sell a million other stories to our consumers. So yes, she is our new director of marketing.”

Then with a pet on the back he says, “Welcome to SABC.”