Andile gets to his neighbourhood but he can’t see the shacks because of the load-shedding darkness. With his phone’s torch he finds his one room shack and gets in. He puts the photocopying machine on the stool and throws himself on the bed after locking the door. His phone rings, he picks up. “Hey bafo, how are you?” Andile says.
“I have a new TV set with me and speakers,” Bobo says on the other line. He sounds jubilant.
“You got it through the looting, huh?” Andile says.
“Yebo! It was crazy. A young kid fell and got stepped on by too many people. The kid couldn’t get up anymore,” Bobo says. “he’s dead.”
“Jeez!” Andile remarks.
“So what did you take?”
“I wish I was as lucky as you, bafo. I only managed to get away with a photocopy machine and some candles,” Andile says. He hears Bobo’s laugh.
“I’m gonna need you to find me a buyer for this thing. Those who work in offices, some corporate jobs,” Andile says.
“Okay, I’ll get them. But you have to be careful about your story of where you got that machine. I have a feeling that so many arrests are going to be made. This looting thing is illegal.”
“I know, Bobo. Don’t worry”
“Alright, sharp,” Bobo says.
“Bye,” Andile hangs up. He puts his Huawei phone on the cupboard and lights the candle. Why didn’t he take the phones instead? Six of them would’ve fit in his pockets. Such a thought never came. Now he has a photocopy machine, even the candles are more useful than it.
Next morning Andile wakes up. Electricity is back. The 7 o’clock News are playing. The top story is yesterday’s looting. Women rushing on the streets bare footed with sacks of mealie meal and Sunlight soap are showed on the TV screen. Nothing but smiley faces. Andile yawns, rubs his eyes and answers his ringing phone. “Hello?”
“Morning. Is this Andile?”
“Yes.”
“I got your numbers from Bobo, says you got a photocopy machine you’d like to sell.”
“Okay,” Andile says as he pulls himself out of bed.
“What type of a machine are we talking about here? I run a law firm by the way. I’m Nick,” says the man on the phone.
“Alright. Uhm…” Andile looks at the machine on the stool. “It’s the normal type, I guess,” he says, yawining again.
“What brand?” Nick asks.
Andile checks the machine on every side. There’s no name. “Err…sir,”
“Just call me Nick.”
“Nick.”
“Yes.”
“How about I send you pictures of this thing? You’ll tell me if you like it or not then we’ll discuss the price.”
Nick says no problem and the phone call ends. The way Andile found this photocopy machine it’s like it was dropped. He plugs it in and it lights up. At least it’s working. He looks around his shack for a paper to slide in but there’s non. Not even a newspaper. Typek papers are inside the machine, ready to transmit the copy images or words on paper. Andile puts his Huawei phone, closes and presses the 1 button. The scanning begins. What comes out isn’t a paper showing his Huawei phone but a Huawei phone.
Tell us: If you had such a machine what would you copy?