He stood at the woman’s gate.

Waiting for her, as she approached.

His last debtor for the day.

Month end’s collection.

With sweat on her forehead, she greets.

‘Hello, Sisi. Smile now.’

The woman takes out a handful of crispy notes,

shaking like a leaf.

‘Oh my God. All of her salary?

But I didn’t force her. It was her choice.’

He zips his crossbody bag and walks

to the chisanyama with his goons.

To braai some meat, of course.

And with her, a plastic full of spinach, she sighs.

At least it’s better than nothing.