Chapter 6 — Chapter Six

I woke up Monday morning to find Vusi standing over me, waving a newspaper in my face. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.
“Look what you’ve got us into,” he said frantically. “Shit! Zanele’s going to kill me!”
“What are you talking about?” I took the paper. It was open to the society pages, and there was a full spread on Saturday night’s charity event. There was even a photo of me and Vusi emerging from the venue. Vusi was topless and I was grinning like a fool. I nodded my approval. “We look good.”
“Good?” Vusi snatched the paper. “Good? How am I supposed to explain this to Zanele? I promised her I’d keep a low profile! I was supposed to be working, not partying!”
“You were working,” I reminded him.
“This is your fault!” He crumpled up the paper and tossed it aside.
“Ja, tell her that. She’s going to blame me, anyway.”
“Yoh, what if my grandmother sees it?” Vusi gasped. He sank onto my mattress, distraught.
I shook my head. “Chill, bra. You’re famous! Sort of.”
“This is serious, Senzo. Zanele’s already upset that we’re still doing the Prophet Mazinga scam. I promised I would stay out of trouble, man! I promised!”
I sighed. I wanted to be a good friend and listen to Vusi’s woes, but I was sick of Zanele’s whining. She had never liked me and the feeling was mutual. Besides, I had made plans to meet Ayanda that morning and I didn’t want anything getting in the way.
I gave Vusi a pat on the back. “Stop worrying about it. Look, I’m going to meet Ayanda today so you have the whole morning to yourself. Go spend some time with Zanele. We still have some money left. Take her out for Nandos or something.”
He gave me a look. “She’ll know something’s up, she’s not stupid.”
I kept my opinion on that to myself. “Confidence is key, my man. Remember that.”
He snorted. “When will you be back?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe never.” I winked at him and went to take a shower.
Ayanda had invited me to her office to discuss her favourite subject – charity. We sat down in one of the smaller conference rooms and a secretary brought us coffee and biscuits. It wasn’t exactly my idea of the perfect date – people kept walking past the glass doors so there was zero privacy – but we were alone and I had her full attention. I decided to use the opportunity to find out more about my favourite subject – Ayanda.
“So you’re a lawyer,” I said, smiling over my coffee cup. “I’m impressed.”
She laughed. “Actually, it’s not that exciting. I’m part of Amazi’s legal team, so mostly I deal with contract law. The really interesting work is what I do for the legal clinic in the township.”
“Oh, you volunteer there as well?” I asked, like I hadn’t read her CV word for word twelve times.
She nodded. “It’s so rewarding.”
“What sort of cases do you handle? Domestic disputes?”
“Sometimes, though that’s not my area. Mostly I work on labour-related cases, situations where people haven’t been paid what they were promised and so on. A lot of people enter into verbal agreements, and then when they’re cheated they don’t know what to do, so they come to us for advice. It’s important for people to know their rights.”
Ag shame, she looked so cute when she was passionate about something. I nodded in understanding. “Yes, absolutely.”
“For instance, last week I spoke to someone who was the victim of a scam.”
I choked on my coffee. “Really?” I reached for a tissue from the box in the middle of the table. “That’s...interesting.”
“You won’t believe how many con artists are running around out there, deceiving innocent people,” she went on. She didn’t look cute anymore. She looked angry. “It’s unacceptable. I mean these people call themselves doctors and pastors and prophets, and claim to be able to heal all kinds of diseases which they know nothing about. They’re just swindlers, plain and simple. Frauds.”
I cleared my throat. “Terrible, indeed. And, eh, how do you help the clients – I mean the victims?”
“I start by telling them the obvious – don’t give money to someone until they’ve treated you or given you medicine.” She sighed. “Some people are very naive, you know. They’ll pay a deposit and then the medicine never comes.”
“Mmm. I see.” My heart was pounding, but I had to know more. Was she talking about con artists in general or Prophet Mazinga specifically? “I can see how it would be easy to prove that someone wasn’t a real doctor, but what about a prophet? How can you be sure that he doesn’t have the gift?”
Ayanda rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe in ‘the gift’ at all,” she said, making quotation marks with her fingers, “but a lot of people do and there’s nothing I can say to change their minds. But if someone has a history of empty promises, it’s safe to say that person’s a charlatan.”
Charlatan. I swallowed. That word had been hurled at me before, but I didn’t want to think about it. I cleared my throat again. “Yes. Hmm. So...what other volunteer work do you do?”
Ayanda paused to finish her biscuit. “Well, I help out at an old age home.”
“Tell me about that,” I said eagerly. I wasn’t really interested in hearing about old timers, but I didn’t want her to revisit the dangerous topic of charlatans. Besides, according to Zanele women like a man who listens.
Before she could continue, someone opened the door and walked in without knocking. I looked up to see my old enemy, Jasper.
“You again,” he sneered.
“Hi,” I replied with a big smile.
“Jasper, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” Ayanda asked impatiently. “You can see we’re in a meeting.”
Jasper stared at us in surprise. “I didn’t know the company was hiring former exiles.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ayanda sighed and gave him an unimpressed look. “Senzo’s going to come do some work at the orphanage. So if you don’t mind...”
It took a second for Jasper to take the hint. “Oh. Er, okay. Ja, sure. I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight.”
“Still on? I thought I said I had to work.”
I smirked at Jasper. That’s right fool, I told him with my eyes. Ayanda would rather work than hang out with you.
“Baby, come on –” he pleaded.
“Jasper.” It was clear from the frown on Ayanda’s face that she was getting fed up. “Please.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” he decided, finally stepping out. He gave me a long, threatening stare before closing the door and walking away.
“Sorry about that,” said Ayanda.
“Don’t apologise. If he’s bothering you at work I’m sure there are steps you can take.” I arched my eyebrows. “Legal steps.”
She smiled. “No, it’s not like that. Jasper and I have been seeing each other for a long time, actually.”
Seeing each other. Hmm. No wonder she was confused. As far as I was concerned either you were dating or you were having a fling. What the hell was seeing each other supposed to mean?
I leaned back in my chair. “It seemed like he was bothering you.”
She rolled her eyes. “He can be so selfish and demanding sometimes. But other times...well, it’s complicated.”
It wasn’t complicated at all. It was simple. All she had to do was dump Jasper and date me. But I said, “Sure,” and gave her an understanding nod, because Senzo Sedibeng was that kind of guy.
“Now, back to the orphanage.” Ayanda finished off her coffee and looked at me.
“I can start whenever you like,” I told her. “Like I said, I’m always looking for opportunities to make a difference.”
“It’s wonderful that you’re so enthusiastic about it,” she said, smiling. “A lot of people just do charity work to keep up appearances.”
“Well, I can’t speak for those people.”
“No, of course not. You’re a true hero.” She reached out to put her hand over mine, and I swear the world stopped for a second. “I’ll never forget that you came all the way over here to return my bag.”
“It was my pleasure,” I said. “I’m just glad it all worked out.”
She nodded, then cleared her throat and moved her hand. “Uh, yes. Well, I’ll be at the St. Martins orphanage all day this Saturday, so that would be a good time for you to stop by. I can show you the ropes and introduce you to the nuns and the kids.”
St Martins. How long had it been since the last time I set foot in that place? Years, and the plan had been to keep it that way. But how could I refuse Ayanda? I put on my most charming smile.
“Saturday is perfect.”

“You’re an idiot,” said Vusi, later that day.
After a slow afternoon we had retired to our usual table at the shebeen. We were sipping beers that we had bought on credit, as usual, even though we still had a little bit of Jasper’s money left.
“You, working with kids?” Vusi shook his head. “You hate kids, remember?”
“Minor detail,” I replied.
“You swore you’d never go back to an orphanage. Especially that orphanage.”
I shrugged. “I have no choice. That’s where Ayanda volunteers.”
“It’s a terrible idea.”
“It’ll be fine. A man can change, you know.” I took a big gulp of beer. “Maybe I’ll decide that I love orphanages. Little kids laughing, playing, having fun... maybe I’ll love those little bastards. Besides, I have info on Jasper now. It’s only a matter of time before Ayanda dumps him.”
“Really? What info do you have?”
“Look at the facts,” I said confidently. “We know Jasper is a two-timing loser. We know he’s working with Chairman to get Gideon to sell the company. If they succeed, Jasper will get a cut.”
“But Gideon’s not going to sell,” said Vusi.
“He doesn’t want to, but they must have a plan.” I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. “A guy like Chairman doesn’t become a bigshot by luck.” And then it came to me. “Ayanda!”
Vusi groaned. “Can’t you spend five minutes without saying her name?”
“No, I mean she’s the answer!” I snapped my fingers, proud of myself for figuring it out. “That’s why he’s so desperate to marry her. Once he’s part of the family, he’ll have more control over the company! He might even convince Ayanda and Gideon to give him more shares, and then he and Chairman can take over Amazi!”
Vusi frowned. “That’s a big accusation, man. You’ll need proof.”
“I’ll get proof,” I assured him.
He looked unconvinced.
“Come on, everything’s finally going our way!” I reminded him. “Whatever comes, we’ll handle it. Team?” I extended my hand for a high five, but he left me hanging. I dropped my hand. “Fine. Stay here and sulk. I’m going to get another round.”
I left him and moved towards the front. The place was packed as usual and the waiters were all busy. I spotted Big Mama at the counter, directing a new cashier who seemed to be struggling.
“You’re here again?” she said when she saw me. “Didn’t I tell you to stop drinking so much?”
“Ah, Big Mama, don’t be like that.” I leaned over the counter and grinned at her. “I’m your best customer!”
“Be careful of this one,” she said to the cashier. “He likes to buy on credit.”
The girl giggled.
“I paid last month!”
“Hmm,” said Big Mama, but her eyes twinkled and I could tell she wasn’t really angry. “What now? Second round? Third?”
“Second,” I laughed.
She gave the girl my order and helped her ring it up, then paused to chat with me.
“You’re in a good mood,” she said, and then frowned. “I hope you’re not up to something. You and that Vusi, always causing trouble.”
“Why do you always think I’m up to something?” I protested, feeling a little bit hurt.
“Because you’re always up to something.” She poked my arm. “Tell me. What now? Another scam? Selling holy water?”
I snorted. We had graduated from that a long time ago. “Nah, nothing like that.” I thought of Ayanda and couldn’t help smiling.
Big Mama whistled. “Is it a girl? My God! Are you finally getting serious about life?”
My reply was a mysterious shrug.
“Hmm!” Big Mama beamed and folded her thick arms on top of the counter. “I like this. Who is she? A nice girl, neh? Not like that other one.”
“She’s a very nice girl,” I told her proudly. “A lawyer.”
“Eh? How did you find a lawyer?”
“Ah, Big Mama!”
She laughed. She had a big, loud, booming laugh, and when she laughed her whole body shook. It was like she was laughing from deep inside. It always made me smile. I started telling her about Ayanda. To be honest I was always looking for an excuse to talk about her and Vusi was getting sick of it, so it was nice to have someone who actually wanted to know.
“And she volunteers at St Martins Orphanage, and she asked me to come and help out, so I’m going there tomorrow and we’ll spend the whole day together.” I sighed happily.
“You’re going back to St Martins?”
I nodded.
“You said you were never going back.”
Why was everyone so hung up on what I had said? Wasn’t I allowed to change my mind? I looked at Big Mama and realised that her smile had vanished. She looked worried. Ag shame, she was probably afraid that it would be traumatic for me to go back.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll be fine. I won’t know any of the kids there, and there are probably new nuns. It will be like a different place.”
“Ja, maybe,” she mumbled. “Eh, I have to go take care of something. Later, neh?”
She hurried away through the crowded shebeen before I even had a chance to say bye. I watched her leave, then shrugged, picked up the beers and carried them back to the table.

I couldn’t wait until Saturday to speak to Ayanda, so I called her the next morning, just to hear her voice. Of course I had to pretend I was calling for a reason, and our new common ground seemed like the perfect excuse.
“I was just calling to find out if you’ve heard about the seminar at Wits,” I said when she answered. I was sitting in the consulting room with a newspaper open in my lap. There was an advert on the left page. Some international bigshot was going to talk about community building through the arts. It seemed like the sort of thing Ayanda would be into.
“Oh, yes! It sounds wonderful. Unfortunately I can’t make it. Are you going?”
“I don’t know.” I turned the page, no longer interested in the seminar. “I have meetings that day, but I’ll try to stop by. How are things going at the office?”
“Not bad,” she replied. “We have a meeting with some investors in a few minutes. I’m sure you remember the Rosenbaums from the party?”
I laughed. “How could I forget?”
“Well, you made an impression that worked in Amazi’s favour. Thanks, by the way.”
“My pleasure. So that’s what your typical day is like, huh? Meetings with investors?”
“Yes, a lot of meetings, a lot of phone calls, a lot of reading long, complicated contracts, and a lot of filing. But this afternoon I’m going to stop by the legal clinic. I told you I help out there, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you mentioned it.” There was no way I would forget that the love of my life worked with people who might be Prophet Mazinga’s clients. “You work there on weekdays, too?”
“Only when I have a couple of hours free. I’m really concerned about the con artists operating in the township,” she said, and my heart almost stopped. “So far people don’t want to tell me much – I guess they’re scared the conmen will come after them.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
If people were too scared to talk, then maybe I didn’t have to worry after all. Ayanda didn’t understand kasi politics. She was from the world of contracts and ethics. I came from the world of rough justice. I had never actually hurt anyone for badmouthing Prophet Mazinga, but I had certainly made my share of convincing threats.
“Well, they’re upset that the medicine doesn’t work but they still believe in those things, you know?” Ayanda clicked her tongue, exasperated. “They don’t want to anger the ancestors by turning on a prophet. I don’t even know which prophet is supposed to be the false one. There are so many! Prophet Chulumba, Dr Albert, Pastor Josiah, Prophet Mazinga. It’s a mess. Even the clients can’t keep them all straight.”
My heart pounded when she mentioned Prophet Mazinga. “Yes, I can imagine. What are you going to do?”
“There’s not much I can do if the people who complained don’t come back,” she said. “That’s one of the problems we face. People come for legal advice, but when they find out how the law works or what’s at stake they change their minds. They don’t want to go through the whole process if nothing will come of it, or if they might put themselves at risk.”
I murmured in agreement.
“Have you heard of any of these prophets?”
I licked my lips, thinking fast. “Uh, sure.”
“Do you think they’re honest?”
I chose my words carefully. “I think they’re just trying to survive. When times get hard and they need to pay the bills, maybe they stretch the truth a little. I’m sure they don’t even think about the legal side of it.”
“Hmm. You have a point,” she agreed softly. “Maybe I should organise a workshop at the legal clinic and invite them.”
I wanted to laugh. I could picture all the prophets and pastorpreneurs sitting in a room, listening to Ayanda lecture them and then agreeing to change their ways. Ja, right.
“The Rosenbaums have arrived,” said Ayanda. “I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Senzo.”
“You, too. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
I hung up, realising exactly how much was at stake where Ayanda was concerned. It was bad enough that she thought I was a rich self-made former exile. If she found out I was also Prophet Mazinga, it would all be over.
The door opened and Vusi walked in clutching a plastic bag filled with fresh chips.
“And then? What’s wrong with you?” He reached into the bag and handed me one packet of chips.
“I was talking to Ayanda.”
“Eish, not Ayanda again!” Vusi shook his head. “A client is coming in ten minutes, man. You must focus.”
He was right. I couldn’t let Ayanda’s upper class sentiments distract me. It was easy for her to talk when she was born into money. People like me had to hustle. That was just the way it was. I popped one hot chip into my mouth, then pulled the dreadlock wig over my head. Time for work.

The next day me and Vusi got a surprise visitor. Jasper turned up without warning, storming in moments after another client had left. Vusi was just about to come out from behind the curtain when Jasper entered. Vusi quickly pulled the curtain shut. Fortunately Jasper was too upset to notice the curtain moving.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, glaring at me.
I looked up at him. “Ah, Mr Ndlovu. Have a seat.”
“Don’t tell me to have a seat!” he barked. “You said you would fix things with my woman, but ever since I came to you things have only gotten worse!”
“Worse? Worse how?”
“She’s met someone. Some brat who came back from exile.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Surely this man is not a threat to you.”
“Of course not! But he shares her silly little interests. Charity and volunteering, that kind of nonsense. Ayanda loves that stuff.”
“Hmm.” I scratched my chin thoughtfully. “Yes, I see. I see. It is a test, my friend.”
Jasper scowled. “A test?”
“Yes. The ancestors want to know whether you are truly worthy, so they have sent you some competition. This is a good thing!”
He looked sceptical. “How is it a good thing that some idiot is moving in on my territory?”
I smiled. “If – I mean when – you win her back from this man, she will never leave you again. I told you this was a complicated case. It’s going to take time. You must be patient.”
“You’d better be right, prophet,” he said menacingly. “I paid you a lot of money.”
“Trust me, Mr Ndlovu, your money is hard at work.”
He seemed satisfied, at least for now. Without another word he turned around and left. The curtain twitched and Vusi peeped out.
“We’re dead,” he whispered.
“Relax, Vus. Everything’s fine. He believed me.”
“Are you sure?”
I grinned at him. “Of course.”

On Saturday morning I stood in front of St Martins, feeling a little nervous. Okay, very nervous. There was a new sign, freshly painted, and the old gate had been replaced by a bigger one with a lock. There was a higher fence, too. Times had changed and even a Catholic orphanage wasn’t safe from crooks. I realised I hadn’t been on that street for a long, long time.
The thing is, I didn’t graduate from the orphanage like the other kids. I didn’t go through the ceremony and special dinner the orphanage always organised for the kids who passed matric. By Grade Eleven I was already sure that the education system was never going to work for me, but there was no way Vusi’s gogo would let him quit school and I couldn’t abandon him. So I stayed. I made it through matric and my grades weren’t bad. But I couldn’t stick with the orphanage.
When I turned sixteen I figured I was old enough to look after myself. I was tired of being told what to do, what to think, how much God loved me. Ja, right. If He loved me why was my life so freaking hard? I took the things I had accumulated over the years and ran away. The nuns weren’t really in a position to bring me back. Sometimes kids left to make their own way in the world, and the nuns had to focus on looking after the ones who remained. Vusi begged me to come stay with him but I knew his granny had enough mouths to feed already. Sometimes I spent a few nights with him, but most of the time I moved from one place to another, staying with friends.
It was around that time that I met Big Mama. She had a spaza shop on the corner near the school, and she let me sleep there in exchange for guarding her stock. By the time I finished school she had three more spaza shops, and we celebrated Vusi’s 21st in her brand new shebeen.
In the early days I would pass by the orphanage sometimes, just to see if it was still standing. After some time I stopped. I didn’t want to be reminded of the past. I wanted to move on. I started avoiding the area altogether.
Now, over a decade later, there I was, standing at the gate like a stranger. The padlock wasn’t locked, so I reached out and opened the gate. Then I took a deep breath and stepped inside. The grounds looked nice and well-kept. There were some flowers near the front door and I wondered whether Sister Lucy was still there to water them every day.
The front door opened and Ayanda came out, looking gorgeous as always.
“Hi!” she said, smiling. “I’m glad you made it. Come in.”
She led me down the familiar corridors. It was like I had gone back in time. I remembered all the times I got into trouble for running through those corridors. I could almost hear Sister Lucy’s voice: “Hey wena, no running in here! How many times do I have to tell you?”
I followed Ayanda to one of the offices, and when we stopped at the door my heart started racing. This used to be Sister Lucy’s office.
“The nuns have to meet you before they let you work with the kids,” Ayanda explained, knocking on the door. “There are forms to fill as well, but don’t worry. The nuns are always happy to have volunteers.”
A voice told us to come in and Ayanda opened the door and stepped inside. I followed her nervously, keeping my head lowered just in case, but it wasn’t Sister Lucy. I recognised the lady as one of the younger nuns who had been there during my time. She had been in charge of another group, and I don’t think she even knew my name. She shook my hand with no sign of recognition.
After I filled out their forms – using my fake name, of course – Ayanda introduced me to two more nuns. I didn’t recognise either of them, and Sister Lucy was nowhere to be found. Once I let Ayanda show me around, my confidence came back. I slipped into the role of Senzo Sedibeng, child of exile, with ease, and I could tell Ayanda was impressed. I was compassionate, kind, brave and noble. I was finally living up to my own hype.
Okay, so maybe I was a little uncomfortable when she introduced me to the kids, but Ayanda didn’t seem to notice. The person who did notice was Mandla, who showed up about half an hour after I arrived. Apparently he didn’t have a job or a life of his own. Why was he always hanging around like an overprotective big brother? He kept giving me shady looks, like he knew I wasn’t who I said I was. Not that there was any way he could be onto me. I had been in the con game for years. Nosy guys in silk cravats were no match for me. What kind of person wore a cravat in real life anyway?
Just when I thought I’d be able to fake my way through the day, Ayanda did the unthinkable. She left me alone with the little monsters, and it was all downhill from there.
Somehow I found myself on my hands and knees in one of the classrooms, surrounded by kids. One of them had drawn a flower on my forehead, my new shirt was creased, there was a little boy on my back and an army of brats tugged at my clothes, pulling me in all directions. It was like being attacked by wolves, except worse.
I didn’t like kids. They were loud and messy and never minded their own business. They had no boundaries, asked stupid questions, and their hands always seemed to be covered in something sticky. Where was the appeal? I thought I could do it for Ayanda, but I was wrong. Within a few minutes I’d had enough.
I stood up without warning and the little boy slid right off my back and toppled over. It was funny until he started to cry.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned him, and he stopped immediately. “Okay, everybody. Play time’s over. It’s nap time now.”
“We don’t want to sleep,” one of the brats declared. Her name was Nomfundo, and she was the most vocal member of the group. In my opinion she had far too much attitude for a seven-year-old.
I shook my head. “Good girls and boys take a nap when grownups –”
“Tell us a story first!” she demanded, to yells of affirmation from her posse.
“Nope! It’s nap time. Go to sleep.”
The yells got even louder. I covered my ears to drown out the noise and the little monsters started tugging at my clothes. It was too much for anyone to take.
“Okay, okay!” I cried. “You win.” I sighed in exasperation and sat cross-legged on the floor.
The kids settled down around me, looking at me in excitement.
“Okay. Let’s do this.” I thought for a second, and a brilliant plan began to form in my mind, as usual. I cleared my throat and began my story. “Once upon a time a long, long time ago, there was an orphanage just like this one, filled with little boys and little girls, just like all of you.”
“Oohs” and “Aahs” went up from the kids.
“They also refused to take a nap when the nice man asked them.” I dropped my voice to a stage whisper. “But what they didn’t know was that each time they refused, Themba was watching from inside the cupboard.” I pointed at a nearby cupboard. “A cupboard just like that one.”
The kids were on tenterhooks, eyes wide as saucepans.
“Themba would write down all the names of the little boys and girls who refused to take a nap,” I went on.
“Who is Themba?” asked Nomfundo.
I put on my spookiest voice. “Themba - was - a - TOKOLOSHI!”
The kids gasped in terror.
I grinned, proud of myself. “When all the children at the orphanage finally went to sleep at night, Themba the tokoloshi would climb out of the cupboard and look for all the children who were refusing to take a nap...”
Nomfundo swallowed hard. “W-what would he do t-to them?”
“He would bite their little toes off. One by one. Mmmm, so tasty!”
Some of the kids began to cry. Heh heh, served them right for misbehaving.
“Ag, shame,” I said in mock sympathy. “What’s wrong now?”
Their wailing only intensified.
“We don’t like that story,” Nomfundo moaned.
“If you go and take a nap right now, Themba won’t write you down on his list,” I told them solemnly. “I promise.”
The kids scrambled to get their sleeping mats and pillows, and in a few minutes they were all lying still. Mission accomplished. I was about to take a seat and relax when I heard voices in the corridor. I moved towards the door, afraid that one of the nuns had figured out who I was and was coming to ruin everything. But it wasn’t the nuns, it was Mandla and Ayanda.
“But he’s awful with the kids, Aya,” Mandla was saying. “You can tell he doesn’t have a clue what he is doing.”
I scowled. I would have to do something about that guy before he screwed up my plans.
“Why are you so threatened by Senzo?” asked Ayanda.
I nodded. Good question.
“Threatened!” Mandla sounded horrified. “He mixes blue and brown. I mean, who does such a thing? It’s a crime against humanity.”
I looked down at the clothes I’d bought with Jasper’s hard-earned cash. What was he talking about? I looked fantastic.
Ayanda sighed. They were right by the door now. “If you want to see how bad he is we can stop and check.”
I jumped away from the door and threw myself into the chair behind the teacher’s desk a moment before the door opened. Ayanda and Mandla poked their heads into the classroom. All the kids were napping. I gave Mandla a smug smile and pressed a finger to my lips. Ayanda gave me a thumbs up sign, and Mandla stared open-mouthed at the sleeping children. Slowly Ayanda closed the door, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
How much longer did I have to hang around this place? I looked up at the clock on the wall and was horrified to see that I had only been there two hours. Two hours! Right then I knew it was going to be a long, long day. It had better be worth it in the end. I imagined Ayanda and I driving off into the sunset in a shiny Maserati, and grinned.

The day dragged on. I had gone into it expecting to spend all day with Ayanda, but I had only seen her for a few minutes. The kids were a lousy consolation prize, and by the time we got around to arts and crafts I was impatient and irritable.
I sat with my legs propped up on the table, studying a series of meaningless squiggles on a page. I looked at the culprit responsible for the squiggles, a kid of about five or six.
“This is terrible,” I told him. “You call this art?”
His lip trembled. I could sense the waterworks coming, but I didn’t care. These kids needed some serious toughening up. No one would ever have caught me crying in public, not even at his age. How did the nuns expect the kids to survive out there in the big bad real world with such thin skins? Lucky for them, I was there to set things right with some much-needed tough love.
I tossed the kid’s artwork aside. “Next!”
A girl came up, holding out a crayon drawing proudly. I inspected it for a second.
“Trash!”
Nomfundo was next. She handed me her artwork.
I looked it over, then put on a cheerful voice. “Well now, look at this! Look at the patterns. Look at the colours...”
She beamed.
“Trash!” I declared. “Next!”
Nomfundo scowled at me. “You’re Mister Meanie.”
I shrugged. “Hey, life’s tough, little girl. Get used to it.”
But she didn’t budge. She folded her arms and glared at me. “That’s because you don’t have any friends.”
“Of course I have friends.”
She shook her head. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do!”
“Don’t!”
“Do!”
Our debate was interrupted by a knock on the door. Sister Maria, Mandla and Ayanda entered without waiting for me to respond.
“Children, we have a visitor,” Sister Maria announced. “The Mother Superior has come to visit us. Say hello!”
An elderly nun stepped into the room, smiling, and I was so shocked I nearly toppled out of my seat. She had aged significantly since I last saw her, but there was no doubt that I was looking at the one person in the orphanage who would recognise me, even after all these years. Sister Lucy. Well, Mother Superior now. I guess she had climbed the convent ladder.
The children greeted her in a chorus. “Hello Mother Superior.”
Mother Superior’s eyes scanned the room, and finally landed on me. Maybe her eyesight wasn’t as strong as it used to be. Maybe I looked too suave in my new threads. Ah...nope. The minute she saw me she did a double take.
“Senzo Mabizela! Is that you?”
Damnit! There was no way to avoid her. I stumbled to my feet, thinking quickly. I stole a glance at Ayanda. She looked confused. I had to find a way out of this, or I’d be in big trouble. Mother Superior came over and wrapped me in a tight hug.
“Oh, thank God!” she murmured. “Senzo, my son. I thought I’d never see you again. Praise God!”
I tried to pull away, but damn, the woman still had an iron grip. “No, you’re mistaken,” I mumbled over her shoulder. “It’s not me. I mean I’m not...”
She laughed, released me and then – to my horror – pinched my cheeks like I was still one of her charges. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’d know those cheeks anywhere. Are you still a naughty boy or have you become someone in life, my son? I haven’t seen you since you left the orphanage –”
“What?” Ayanda looked from me to Mother Superior. “Orphanage?” Her eyes narrowed. “You mean this orphanage?”
I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work. Suddenly it was really hot in that classroom. I reached up to loosen my collar. “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” I said with a shrug.
Mother Superior laughed again. At least one of us was having a good time. “Oh, Senzo! Still full of jokes. I’m glad to see that you still have that great sense of humour.” She turned to face the others. “He used to come back to the orphanage after being bullied by the other kids and we’d talk and talk. He was my favourite because no matter how tough it got –and it got really tough sometimes – Senzo never lost his charm and sense of humour. That, they could never beat out of him.” She touched my shoulder. “I’m really glad that you came back to the orphanage, that you never forgot your roots.”
I had no idea what to say. I looked at Ayanda. Her lips were pursed and her eyes were cold. I swallowed. I’d seen her look at Jasper the same way, and I hated the idea of being lumped with that fool.
“Ayanda –” I began, but she cut me off.
“And that whole story about growing up in exile?”
“It’s not what you think,” I told her. “I can explain.”
“No need to explain. Basically you were lying to me all along.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, not quite. I just –”
“Oh, stuff it, Senzo,” she snapped, and stormed out.
I saw Mandla grin, the bastard, but I had no time for him. I chased after Ayanda. I found her striding towards the gates. I caught up with her and grabbed her hand.
“Ayanda, I can explain!”
She pulled her hand away. “You lied to me! I don’t even know who you are! And I trusted you with all of these children!”
“Let me explain,” I blurted out. “It’s true that I lied to you, and I’m sorry. I just felt so ashamed about where I really come from. I felt that I wasn’t good enough because of my...my... my poor background.”
She shook her head in disgust. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”
“Trust me, I am.” I sighed. “But you don’t know what it’s like. How people look at you like you’re beneath them! No one took me seriously when they heard where I came from, so I made up a different past.”
She didn’t respond, but at least she was still there, listening. If this was my only chance with her, I couldn’t blow it. I’d have to tell the truth – or some of it, anyway.
“Don’t give up on me, Ayanda,” I pleaded. “I get these kids. I know where they’re coming from. I’m one of them. I know how easy it is to judge, but try to understand. All I want, all I’ve ever wanted is for someone to love me. Someone to want to have me as a part of their life. Not out of pity, but just for who I am.”
She softened. Still she said nothing, but I knew I had her full attention.
“Being an orphan wasn’t easy,” I went on. “But I shouldn’t have lied about it. I promise I will never lie to you ever again. Give me another chance, please?”
She bit her lip, and tears came to her eyes.
“Please, Ayanda.”
She took a deep breath, then took my hand and pulled me in for a hug. I couldn’t believe it. I’d hoped for forgiveness, but I never imagined I’d get the chance to be that close to her, to hold her. My arms wrapped around her and I closed my eyes, breathing her in. She smelled amazing, of course. I smiled, savouring the moment.