Lukhona



“Are you okay, Lukhona?” My teacher’s concerned voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to find everyone in class looking at me.

I wanted to shake my head and tell him that no, I wasn’t okay. I had barely slept last night because my mother was nowhere to be found. I had searched for her in every tavern, but she was nowhere to be seen. I had gone to bed on an empty stomach, giving my food to my little sister so she could sleep with a full belly. I had lied to her, telling her I had already eaten.

I had hoped to eat at school, but when I arrived, the soft porridge was already finished in the kitchen.

But instead of sharing my struggles, I simply nodded and mumbled, “Sorry, sir.”

The lesson continued, but it was hard to focus with hunger gnawing at my insides and worry clouding my mind. My mother’s absence was unlike her, and I couldn’t shake off the anxiety in the pit of my stomach.

I tried my best to concentrate on my schoolwork, but it was a struggle. Just then, one of the grade 9 students knocked on the classroom door and whispered something to the teacher. After the student left, the teacher looked at me and said, “Lukhona, you are needed in the office. Take your books.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I slowly stood up, unsure of what awaits me in the principal’s office.