MId-year term came and I did nothing interesting other than writing on my diary and with Luyanda nagging me. He had been trying his luck with me. Although I never gave him satisfaction that we’d ever be together again, but Luyanda being Luyanda, he never gave up. He continued to take me out. We did a round of experimenting different restaurants and coffee shops.
Besides being spoilt by Luyanda, my days were hella boring. I spent most of them in the rehearsals and church (I was forced obviously). My mother made sure I went to church every Sunday. I went because I never wanted to not have a roof over my head. She threatened to chase me out if I ever disobeyed her instructions and I never wished to be homeless. Where would I go if she chased me out? I wouldn’t even dare ask Luyanda to sleep over at his place. He’d see it as his way between my legs. Sleeping over to his place would eventually force me to open my legs to him as my way of gratitude and it was something I never wanted, not before I finished matric. And again, I wouldn’t bother to ask my friend Sizwe because, poor lad, he and his father rented a single room and having me would be a crowd. So I did as my mother instructed – go to church and participate in all activities – dancing, choir and acting.
I had my best moment, my best was winning a dance competition alongside my fellow mates, which was held in one of the biggest township in South Africa, Alexandra, before it was famous for having big rats.
“Do not have sex if you don’t feel ready,” Miss Phongolo said in her squeaky voice during Life Orientation period. This was one of the reason I spent half the period sleeping in than listening to her. She had been talking for long. She even managed to put the entire class to sleep. Lucky me, after that incident, I trained myself to fall asleep but keep my eyes open. So, it was simple for me to sleep while my eyes were looking at her. Not a day passed by without her reminding us of her uniform words Stay away from boys. But one unusual thing about her was her new outfit. She wasn’t wearing her yellow stripped T-shirt with a black dress. This time she was wearing a navy blue skinny t-shirt with a black mini skirt that showed her thighs. For the first time, I saw her full sized body. She had curves to die for. I stopped sleeping and focused my eyes on admiring her beauty. Every time she opened her mouth to speak, all I heard was an angel whispering in my ears. She had that magic in her tongue that demanded everyone to listen to her when she speaks. She was a gorgeous young lady, enthusiastic and hard working. I remember every piece of her. The sound of her voice and the smell of her hair. The colour of her eyes and the sweetness of her voice. The way I admired her, one would think I was crushing on her, or maybe I was. She was pretty after all. My father would divorce my mother if he laid his eyes on Miss Phongolo. She was everyone’s crush – both the young and the old – boys and girls.
When the bell rang for after school, I walked home alone. For this day I needed to clear my head off things so, I rejected Luyanda’s request to walk me home because I was in no mood for conversations. I took my black kings schoolbag and went outside the schoolyard.
My mind travelled a long way over time. I found myself dining with King Ragnar Lothbrok, the Viking legendary king with all his sons. We were seated on a long six chaired table; three on my row and three on the other row. On my row it was me in the middle, Ivar the boneless on my right and Hvietserk on my left. On the other row the king himself was seated in the middle, with his wife Lagertha on his left and Bjorn Ironside on his right. I have no reason why my mind took me in the Vikings age, but I was enjoying his company.
When I was about twenty miles from home, I was stopped by a boy who looked rather absent from earth. He looked like those people who – I don’t know, man. He was just off. I don’t mean to judge but he was dirty and didn’t seem like a person who took care of himself. He was a true example of made from dust from the book of Genesis. I tried avoiding him by walking as fast as I could, but he was persistent enough to follow up, so I stopped. I stopped only because I didn’t want to be seen as rude. I was popular at school and it would tarnish my reputation if I was rude to someone, but it would also tarnish my name if I’m seen with a garbage boy like him. People would think he’s my boyfriend and they would start insulting me. First, I looked around to check if anyone was nearby and luckily, it was just us. I had a chance to walk away, but I remained still, only because hearing him shout ‘hello! Hello! Hello!’ At me loud sounded like a curse, so instead, I did what I thought was best. When he came closer to me, it was then that I took a clearer look at him and that’s when I concluded everything he was. I wondered what could be the reason he stopped me. Sometimes it’s good to be kind to strangers because you don’t know what they will offer you. You may be rude to a person only to find out they are businessmen or company CEOs, or worse, university professors. So this was me being nice to a stranger, who knows? He could’ve been Bill gates or Stephen King in a mask, but no ways. He didn’t look like someone who’d give me money or offer me an opportunity I thought to myself and wondered more. “I recognize him from somewhere,” said Amo.
“I must’ve seen you walking along the wharf many times,” he said walking alongside me and blocked my way.
“Excuse me?” I gave him the look that needed an explanation and moved one-step back creating a distance between us.
“I mean, I always see you around.”
“Listen here, whoever your name is, I hate people who waste my time and right now you’re doing way more than that.”
“I’m not here to waste your time.”
“Oh,” I said annoyed, “Listen, resist the temptation to do anything stupid, like standing in my way,” I said walking past him and he walked with me. I stopped aggressively and he could tell how pissed off I was. “What is it now?” I snapped.
He looked at me like he was about to say something important and shook his head, “Nothing. I just wanted to say Hi.”
“And now you said it.”
“Yup, and now I’ve said it…. I see you’re one of those unfriendly people. Those people who thinks being rude is sexy,” he moved out of my way. “There’s absolutely no reason to be mean to people, doesn’t matter if they don’t look your type; poor or any form they may seem unpleasant to you,” he said and I just stood there. “Be kind to people. Don’t operate with hatred. There’s too much of it in this world already,” he added.
“I am sorry for interrupting you while you were saying your opinion, but I wanted to inform you that I am not interested,” my rudeness overpowered my tolerance.
“Yeah, and I’m sorry,” he said. “Oh and, I wanted to give you something; your calculator,” he said handing me. “You dropped it here yesterday.” Funny thing is, I only noticed today in the morning during Math that it wasn’t in my bag. I didn’t presume to ask my desk mate where it was since she always borrowed it. A part of me thought I left it home, but how? Since I don’t write homeworks.
“Oh, thank you,” I said embarrassed. I took my calculator from his hand and put it inside my bag.
“By the way, I am Rich,” he said offering me his hand for a handshake.
I laughed and stopped. No way he’s rich. He looks like the last stage of poverty. “No ways, dude.”
“I mean, I’m Rich, short for Richard, but I usually prefer Lucas… also known as indoda ayisheli,” he added. I stretched out my arm for a handshake and I almost let out a loud laugh when he called himself indoda ayisheli. I mean, who’s so heartless to give him such an expensive nickname, unless it’s self-given.
“Oh, okay,” I said in cold response.
“And you said your name was…?”
I did what every girl does to a man she’s not interested to – giving a wrong name. I gave him the name ‘Phumla’, since it was the fastest to reach my tongue.
“Okay, Phumla, nice to know you,” he paused for a breath and continued, “Had a nice day at school?” he asked and by this moment, I was on the last stage of being pissed off and bored. Listen to what he has to say. “Sorry abuti, I don’t do small talks. I’ve given you more time than you deserve.”
“You ever killed anyone before, Phumla?”
“What? No!” I replied in shock to his question.
“You mean, you never hurt somebody’s feelings once?”
“I think I have, but what’s that got to do with murder?”
“So, you’re a murderer,” he said looking me in the eye. “A person is never the same after you hurt their feelings. Something changes in them. A part of them dies,” he said and I though hard about what he said. It’s Bullshit!
“I guess I’m a murderer then,” I paused. “And when last did you kill a person?”
“Four years ago.”
“Four years is a long time. She must be rotting by now…”
“It wasn’t her that I killed, but myself. I died when the people I trusted betrayed me.”
“I guess I must be speaking to a corpse now,” I said and he smiled. “Look, I do wish we could chat longer, but I’m having a funeral for my cat,” I said preparing to leave.
“I’m sorry about your cat,” he said putting his hand in the pocket, “The distance from here to your place is a long way… can I walk you?” he asked, his hand showing the way.
“No, you can’t. My father would kill you if he saw us together,” I replied.
“Okay, fair enough,” he said and I proceeded to walk, “Can I have your number at least?”
I turned my head to him, “No, sorry. I don’t give out my number to strangers,” I walked on.
“How about we play a game,” he said rushing to me and I stopped. “I ask you a question and if you get it right, I take you out and if you get it wrong, you give me your number, okay?”
“I have no interest in games, I’m in a hurry,” I proceeded to walk and five steps away from him he shouted, “If you don’t play with me I will scream and tell everyone you’re my girlfriend,” and I stopped immediately. I turned to him, “And why’s your game only to your advantage? Whether I get the answer right or wrong it makes no difference, you still win.”
“How would you like to play the game then?”
“Let me think…” I said moving closer to him, “How about… if I get the answer right, you tell me where you bought these fake Jordan1 from, hm?” I said harshly and he looked at his kicks and back to me, “If I win?”
“You get my number.”
“Well, challenge accepted,” he said.
“So, go ahead,”
“It’s a riddle,” he looked at me, “A scientist was working with a deadly poison in his lab. During the process, he spilled some poison on his hand. Just then, his wife came in his lab with dinner. The scientist reached for the food, but before he could touch it, his wife told him to wash his hands. He went to the basin, turned the tap on, washed his hands thoroughly and he turned the tap off, and went to have dinner with his wife. After eating, he died. The police investigated and found that he was poisoned. They tested the food but there was no poison in it. How did he die?” he asked smiling. I paused for few seconds before I could answer him and eventually I did. His riddles was simple though. Even a primary kid would get it.
“You said his wife brought the food, right?” I asked for clarity. ‘I pick this guy’s scent from somewhere. I know him from somewhere. Please ask him questions while I browse through the memory lane. You must’ve spoken with him before.’ No, Amo, never seen him.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Okay, simple, the wife put the poison in his food,” I answered confidently.
“Thank God you got it wrong. At least now I won’t have to tell you where I bought my fake Jordan1 from,” he said with half smile and continued, “Your numbers please?” he added.
“Why? How? I am right.”
“Your number, please, ma’am,” he said handing me his phone.
“First, tell me the correct answer.”
“I will, after you write your number,” he said with his hand still stretched to me.
“Okay, here’s the deal. I will give you five digits of my number and I will ask you a question, if you get it right, I will give you the remaining five digits,” I offered.
“Okay,” he said and I took his phone and inserted my first five digits of my cell number and I handed it back. “Now tell me the answer to your riddle,” I said.
“Alright. When the scientist opened the tap, he left some of the poison stains on the tap and when he closed the tap, he grabbed them again and went to eat,” he answered and all I could do was laugh at foolishness. Of course that was the correct answer and how come I never thought of it.
“Okay, I have to admit, I never saw that one coming,” I said with a small laugh.
“Yeah. So, your question?” he said.
“Right. Peter is brought to the hospital with his father after an accident. The surgeon in emergency rushes to assess Peter, but after looking at him, the surgeon said ‘I cannot operate on him. He is my son.’ How is this possible?” I asked confidently knowing he wouldn’t get it right. I have asked many people this riddle – at least twenty and none of them got it right, so I was confident he would not get it.
“Your riddle is quite tricky and yet simple. The surgeon is Peter’s mother,” he answered confidently and I burst out in a loud laugh because he was right.
“You knew it before, right?” I asked to his sudden answer.
“Of course I didn’t. This can only mean I am right,” he said with a half-smile, “You might want to enter your last five digits,” he said handing me his phone.
“Okay, fair enough.” He handed me his phone and I entered the remaining five digits of my cell number, but instead, I wrote the last number wrong. He earned them yes, but there was no way I would give a junk my correct numbers. Sometimes before you approach a girl, you need to first check if you meet her standards. Levels matters in relationships.
When I was done entering my numbers in his phone, I gave it back and he thanked me. If only he knew the last digit was wrong, he wouldn’t be so quick to thank me.
“Cool,” I said.
“We shall speak soon, Phumla,” he said and I left before anyone saw me with him. News would spread fast that the great Aona is dating a junky. I had a reputation to maintain. Any girl can attest to this, we hate to associate ourselves with losers; people below our standards and that’s who we are.
