Every week Thami comes and takes Thingo out. As each day that passes by I realise that I might have the right decision by bringing them together.

I hand the bag to Thami as soon as I finish packing. “And remember he can’t sleep without you reading him a story and make sure he goes to bed at 8 p.m or else the next day he’ll be cranky.”

“I think I got all that, right little guy?” He says tickling Thingo’s tummy he turns to look at me “You don’t have to worry.”

He opens the car and places Thingo at the back seat “And he’ll be back after 3 days right.”

He nods as he walk into the driver’s seat and soon they leave. I stand there looking at the car until it is already out of sight.

I am panicking it is already Monday and the tin house feels lonely with just me and my mom, without Thingo’s little fusses. I call again and the phone goes straight to voicemail. My eyes sting with tears, my hands are shaking and all I’m thinking of is my baby. “He’s not answering.” I say helplessly to my mother to what felt like a hundred times.

“Maybe he’ll bring him today; they could have had too much fun and decided to bring him today and it’s still early,” my mother says with a low voice and sighs as she looks out the window.