Thandiwe



Wednesday morning arrives, and I can feel the nervous anticipation building up inside me. My hands are sweaty as Mam Mavis pushes my wheelchair, accompanying me to avoid a repeat of what happened the other day. I appreciate her presence, but deep down, I know I’ve come a long way on my own and I’m proud of myself for pushing past my condition and proving that I can overcome any obstacle. The whispers of the people around me still linger, but they have soon died down.

As we reach the taxi rank, a familiar face greets us. It’s Bongani, the guy who helped me out the other day. Mam Mavis asks if I know him, and I can’t help but smile as I look at Bongani and nod. “It’s the same guy I told you about, the one who came to my aid,” I reply.

Mam Mavis acknowledges Bongani with a warm smile and says, “Good to see that there are still good people around.” Her words reflect the gratitude we both feel for his kindness.

Bongani shifts his weight from one leg to another and speaks up, “I thought I’d go with you to work.”

I’m taken aback by his offer and glance at Mam Mavis before responding, “You don’t have to.”

He looks at Mam Mavis and then back at me, determination in his eyes. “I want to,” he asserts. “That is if you don’t mind.”

Mam Mavis shakes her head, showing her support. “You can go ahead.”

As we settle into the taxi, I wave goodbye to Mam Mavis and turn to Bongani, curiosity in my eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

Bongani shrugs nonchalantly. “I asked my boss if I could take a one-hour break at 8 a.m. and later today to help you out.”

“Why? Especially after learning all those terrible things about me,” I question, still amazed by his willingness to assist.

He takes hold of my hand and smiles warmly. “We all make mistakes. You’ve paid dearly for yours. But we all deserve second chances, and maybe even third chances.”