Nkosinathi turned to face the man, who was marching towards him, the man appeared to be followed by a couple of people. Nkosinathi – being fearless – waited on them, to see what they would do. He dared to stand his ground in any fight life threw at him – it was what he vowed to himself in the beginning of his ‘crime’ days – no matter how vast or dangerous it was. The men reached Nkosinathi, they interrogated him, a couple grabbed his t-shirt and pulled at it violently. The conflict ascended into a full-blown fight: Nkosinathi by some streak of luck, somehow found the miraculous means to fight through them and escape. His overconfidence had betrayed him, the result: his failure to overpower them. And so, the spirit of defeat forced him to do something he hated with a passion – and that was to retreat.

He sprinted with every ounce of strength his body could grant. The men followed, chasing after him. 

Nkosinathi ran between many zinc houses (shacks) and strange corners of the community. At one stage, he climbed into a yard where dogs had almost torn him apart. Eventually, he lost the men. He made his way to the zinc house of one of the gang members and knocked profusely. Without giving him a chance to even respond, Nkosinathi just barged in, only to find him lying on his bed: heavily knocked out by a good dose of the usual… nyaope and marijuana.

“Hey ndoda (man)!” Nkosinathi roared, shaking him vigorously.

“Arghh… what… is… it… man… leave me… be,” he responded, unable to even lift his eyelids.

“Hey! Wena! Wake the hell up man!” Nkosinathi screamed.

His eyelids jolted wide open and revealed the bloodshot maroon ocean swirling in them, “Man! What is it? You are killing my high,” Nkosinathi’s boy said. The state of being annoyed and tired dominated his countenance.

“Get your guns. Some men are after me,” Nkosinathi commanded.

The man struggled to get out of bed. He armed himself as Nkosinathi watched him while calling his other partner. The man stopped in the middle of putting a knife in his pocket, something strange caught his attention. Nkosinathi had failed to reach his other partner, he put his phone back in his pocket and then suddenly froze in his movement, with confusion written all over his face.

“That sound,” Nkosinathi chimed.

“Are those people?” his partner questioned.

The noise grew louder, as it did, it became crystal clear. The noise informed the men that there were many people, screaming, shouting, singing and marching. It dawned on Nkosinathi and his partner that there is a high chance the crowd may be after them. The moment the thought to make a run for it crossed their mind, the window suddenly smashed in: shards rained in and scattered across the floor, they were tailed by a big stone that landed by his partner’s foot.

The couple sprinted for the door. They opened it and ran straight into an army of enraged community members. The people carried torches of light, spades, sticks, garden forks and all kinds of tools. Nkosinathi and his partner were pulled violently into the mob and were separated in the chaos. Like wild animals they were stripped: the only garments that were shown mercy were the colourful silk underwears they wore – most probably those were picked up in secret at the men’s section of a clothing store. Everything is for free in the gang’s world, but the pain done unto others came with a hefty price, and the bill was now up in their faces – in the form of a mob – and demanding to be settled.

The gang members were dragged towards the middle of the community. Nkosinathi’s partner had suffered a broken leg, one vengeful community member had smashed it with a sledge hammer.

Nkosinathi was decorated with lethal wounds across his body and a face that was heavily bruised – it was an artwork of horror. An artwork that clearly stated: ‘the time to pay has arrived.’ The bruises were a rainbow of different colours. Their hands were tied up with a rope that the people used to pull them. Nkosinathi and his partner each had their own rope and the community members pulled on these ropes violently, forcing them to walk in the direction they desired them to.