Mphikiseni’s words roam my mind. My baby will finally be taken out, he’ll finally be laid to rest and I’ll finally be free.

What about those movements earlier? What? How do I explain those movements? Mphikiseni doesn’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me either. As I sweep the yard, a blue Tazz comes to a screeching halt by my gate. I stop sweeping and stare at the person inside the car.

A tall man walks out, he is wearing traditional garments, and he’s chanting something. He keeps rattling the small bones bag he has on his hands. His eyes are closed as he walks to me, he keeps licking his lips and chanting something I can’t make out. He is black, like dark dark complexion, he has long red dreadlocks and beads all over his body.

When he’s standing face to face with me, he opens his eyes and looks at me. His eyes are red. He groans and holds my hand roughly, I feel his nails piercing my palms. I wince.

“Don’t remove this baby. You’ll die. The ancestors have a way to help you.” He chants and looks at me in the eyes again.

“My husband…” I whisper.

“This child is a gift. Don’t remove. Heyyyiii! Dont” He screams and turns, then walks back to his car dancing and singing loudly.