No Turning Back (12 page)

W
e are the future, the core of this land…”

Voices rose up all around Sipho. The long line of young people linking hands stretched down the hill as far as he could see. As Teacher Lindi had told them, black and white children had come together. Blues and whites shimmered everywhere in the sunlight, standing out front all the other colors. White doves circled in blue on caps, shirts, banners and badges. Even the sky seemed dressed in the colors of peace. White clouds against a blue sky.

Sipho was linking hands in between Jabu and Teacher Lindi. The teachers from school had come to the shelter, and they had all walked together to join the route for the Peace Link. In fact it was more of a jog than a walk as they kept pace with Mr. M. People in the streets had stared at them carrying their banner declaring PEACE and wearing their blue and white ribbon badges. Some had waved, some had even called
out to support them. Only a few had given them nasty looks. When one passerby made a rude comment loud enough for them to hear, Jabu had quickly retorted, “No polecat ever knew its own smell!”

“So even polecats must learn to make a fresh start in the new South Africa, hey, Jabu!” Teacher Joe had laughed.

Even though he wasn’t singing now as he stood between Jabu and Teacher Lindi, it was difficult for Sipho not to feel some of the excitement. Then a word in the song jolted him again.

Look around, link your hands

Feel the peace flowing out

Feel the love burning again…

Burning. Blues and whites were once more wiped out by a picture of fire. Red, gray and black. Flames, smoke and ash. How could he sing this song? And yet Jabu was singing. His mother was probably also burned out of her home. Didn’t that make him angry and make him want to do something back to the attackers? But that meant the killing would go on for ever.

Teacher Lindi’s hand pressed more tightly on his as her voice rose up even more strongly with the last lines of the song.

We will give everything

To see everyone stand hand in hand.

The words echoed in the silence that followed. Most people lowered their heads. Sipho dropped his too, although it was no good trying to pray. What was the point when bad things kept happening all the time? But if he could have a wish or a prayer come true, it would be that Ma and the baby were all right.

Later, at the stadium, Sipho thought he had never seen so many young people in one place. Speeches rang out over a loudspeaker.

“Young people must tell adults that they have had enough of hate and violence…”

People cheered.

“The youth must speak out and let their voices be heard…”

The cheering continued.

“Now is the time to look forward. We want a future!” The audience broke into song.

South Africa, we love you,

Our beautiful land…

Bodies moved in waves to the music. It was impossible not to be caught up in it. Jabu grinned when he saw Sipho relax a little. “Let’s look around,” he suggested.

Slipping away from the others, they began to squeeze their way through the crowd at the bottom of the stands. Jabu headed toward the raised platform for the speakers and singers.

“I want to see what this deejay looks like!”

They were almost out of the crush of people when Sipho heard someone call his name. Looking around, he couldn’t see who it was and thought it must have been a mistake. But then it came again, and this time the voice sounded familiar. A girl’s voice.

“Sipho, please wait! We’re coming!”

It sounded just like Judy. Was she here? He scanned the crowd but couldn’t see her. There were so many people. Jabu was already somewhere ahead. Sipho wasn’t sure he wanted to see her.

But before he had time to decide whether to slip away or stay, there was Judy in front of him, and close behind her was Portia, edging their way through the bustle of people. Judy with her head crisscrossed with long corn-colored plaits, woven with blue and white beads, matching Portia’s style. Both girls looked really pleased to see him.

“I’m so happy to see you, Sipho. How’re you keeping?” Judy’s voice was rapid, slightly out of breath and anxious.

“It’s fine with me,” he replied. He knew he wasn’t smiling.

“Judy was really worried when you left,” added Portia.

“You shouldn’t have let David get to you like that.” Judy spoke forcefully. “It was a horrid little note. He admitted to it after you’d gone. Dad was really mad at him.”

But it wasn’t just the note. It wasn’t just David. Couldn’t she see that? Sipho looked away. How could he explain? He should leave, find Jabu and avoid this conversation.

“Your dad confuses me sometimes, too.” Portia spoke softly.

It was noisy, but he was sure he had heard correctly, and a question suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t thought about before. Portia had always seemed to be enjoying her time with Judy. But what was it like for her in Mr. Danny’s house? Did Mr. Danny and David sometimes say things that made her feel uncomfortable too…even though she was Judy’s best friend? He saw Judy turn to look at Portia as if there was a question she needed to ask her.

They were interrupted by a blast of music and Jabu reappearing through the crowd.

“Come on, man! Oh…” Jabu stopped when he saw the girls. “Won’t you introduce me?”

The girls laughed, and Sipho told them his friend’s name.

“Hi, Jabu!” Judy and Portia spoke together.

“Did you two come on your own or are you in a group?” asked Portia, her eyes traveling between the two of them.

Sipho explained that they had come with others from the Themba Shelter.

“That’s not far from Hillbrow, is it? You should at least come and visit us sometime, Sipho. I would really like that, and I know Ada would like to see you too. She was very worried about you.” Her voice was so earnest. Glancing at Jabu, she added, “You could bring your friend too.”

“Sure!” Jabu grinned.

But Sipho could feel his stomach knotting up. Did Judy understand so little about why he had left?

“Jabu was at your house one time but he never came in,” Sipho replied.

“Why not?” Judy’s blue eyes looked troubled.

He was tempted just to shrug and not bother explaining. Surely she could work it out for herself? Instead he answered sharply, “Talk to your father and your brother.”

Judy’s face turned deep pink. “You sound so angry with me, Sipho…I’m really sorry about what happened. You know I argue with Dad and David when I think they’re wrong…but I can’t help what they think!”

“Hey, cool it,
buti!
You’re giving this girl a hard time,” Jabu interrupted. “Today we’re
talking love and peace, man! Leave all that other stuff for another day.”

As if Jabu’s words had been heard, a voice over the loudspeaker called for everyone to come down from the stands into the field and to link hands for a final song. In the surge forward, Sipho found himself between Portia and Judy in a line of people snaking their way across the field. A clutch of blue balloons with white doves flew upward above them, together at first and then whirling away in different directions. Sipho’s arms were swinging with everyone else’s to the rhythm, and on each side he could hear Judy’s and Portia’s voices ringing out.

Forget about the past

And build a new nation.

How could he forget what had happened to him? Bad things were still happening. He could hear a voice in his head saying that he didn’t believe these words. But when the song came to the final verse, the voice in his head was quiet. If only these words could be true.

Sister, brother,

Mamma, daddy,

Stop killing one another

Bring peace in our Land.

S
eated between Sis Pauline and a young woman with a baby, Sipho strained to see out of the taxi’s dusty windows. The minibus was jolting over the potholes in the road. Every sharp knock made the baby bump on its mother’s lap. In between the bumps, the small face, with large eyes and plump, shiny cheeks, stared at Sipho. As the driver took a corner too quickly, Sipho’s hand shot out and the baby grabbed hold of his finger.

“She likes you,” laughed the mother.

“Your little sister will soon be big like this one,” added Sis Pauline.

The baby shifted its serious eyes to Sis Pauline and back to Sipho, still holding tightly to his finger. Then her mouth broke into a smile, showing two small, white teeth. Despite the tightness in his stomach, he gave her a quick smile and turned again to look beyond the glass. It seemed such a long time ago that he had been in a taxi going the other way. He remembered
how his heart had been thumping wildly that day he was escaping. It was beginning to do the same thing now that he was coming back. He couldn’t help feeling excited about seeing Ma and the baby. But would Ma still be angry? What would she say to him? And could he be sure that the person he feared most would be out of the way?

“Your stepfather won’t be there. Your mother promised me that. You can go when he’s not around. She’s crying to see you.”

Those had been Brother Zack’s exact words when he came to tell Sipho that he had found his mother. It was a priest who knew where to find Ma. As soon as Brother Zack spoke about a pregnant woman, the priest knew who it was. On the night of the burning, people had run to his church for safety. Ma’s pains had begun that night, and the priest had driven her to the hospital himself. A member of his church agreed to let Ma and her baby stay for a while in a shed in their backyard. But there were problems. Even though the shed was tiny, Sipho’s stepfather insisted he must stay there too. There had been arguments with the people in the house, and they wanted Ma to find another place.

Outside, the sight of houses with charred bricks, no roofs, no windows, startled Sipho. Had the fighting with the men from the hostels reached this far? The taxi wouldn’t go past the
men’s hostel, or past the place deep inside the township where Ma had lived before. Taxi drivers kept to the roads that were supposed to be safer. But it seemed nowhere was safe. Nowhere.

The taxi juddered to a halt opposite a line of shops. Windows were boarded up, others were covered by heavy metal grilles, and paint was peeling off the walls. A layer of dust covered the pavement and the steps leading into the shops.

“We must walk from here,” said Sis Pauline.

At the corner, a group of young men playing cards stopped to look at them. Farther down the road some small children chasing a wheel with a stick almost ran into Sipho. Even in the middle of the week, there were a lot of people around. All those without jobs in the city. Sipho nervously scanned the figures in the road ahead. Ma had told Brother Zack that his stepfather would be out. But what if they met him on the way? Sis Pauline couldn’t protect him. Ma hadn’t been able to. Maybe his stepfather wouldn’t grab him in the middle of the street, but Sipho wouldn’t wait to find out. He would just have to run like he had never run before.

Behind the wire fence and gate of Number 153 stood a small redbrick house, a shade deeper than the dry red earth all around it.

“We should greet the people in the house
first before we go to the back,” whispered Sis Pauline, leading Sipho to the front door.

When no one replied to their knocking, they made their way around the side of the house. In the next yard, a lady hanging out clothes stopped to greet them. Two small children ran from behind her up to the fence to stare at Sipho.

“We’ve come to visit the lady who lives at the back here,” Sis Pauline explained.

“Kulungile,
Mama…that’s good. She’s inside with the baby.” She pointed across to a small shed made of corrugated iron. A washing line crossed the yard from a bare tree to the corner of the house. Wet squares of white cotton and a couple of tiny undershirts caught the brightness of the sunlight. An iron tub, full of water, stood near the shed, and damp patches on the dry earth showed that it wasn’t long since Ma had been washing.

“Who is the young man?” asked the neighbor, looking at Sipho.

“This is her son,” replied Sis Pauline.

Before the neighbor could reply, the shed door rattled, opening noisily. Ma stepped out, a baby wrapped in a white shawl in her arms.

Seeing her face light up, Sipho wanted to dash across to her and feel her arm around him, but he held back, uncertain what to do. Instead he kept beside Sis Pauline, both of them lowering
their heads under the washing to get to Ma, who was greeting them.

“It’s many weeks since I have seen you, my son. I think you are taller now.”

Her face looked strained, but she was smiling. Her eyes seemed to be calling him, and he was sure that she would hug him if he went closer, but he still held back awkwardly. Wiping his sleeve across his face, he looked down at the ground while Sis Pauline introduced herself.

They followed Ma into the shed. It was half the size of the shack where they had lived before. At the back was a single mattress on the floor and in front some wooden crates. On one of them stood a kerosene stove with a single pot, a couple of plates and mugs stacked underneath. A small bag of
mealie
meal and a few other packages were piled in one corner. There was hardly room for the three of them to stand. Ma left the door open, which let in the only light apart from a small window at the side.

“Sit on the mattress and you can hold your sister.”

Gently Ma lowered the baby. She and Sis Pauline each sat on a crate. Making a cradle with his arms against his knees, he looked down at the little face, the tiny eyelids and lips twitching in sleep.

“What’s her name, Ma?”

“It’s Thembi. For me she is ‘hope.’ You ran away and left me, my son.”

Ma’s voice trembled, and Sipho did not know what to say. It was true.

“When I gave you the name of Sipho, it was because you were a ‘gift’ to me. I didn’t know I would lose my gift. Now I know. With children, we can only hope.”

“It’s very true what you say, Mama,” Sis Pauline agreed.

“That is why we call our shelter ‘Themba.’ It’s a place of hope.”

For a while Sipho listened as the two women spoke, at the same time watching little Thembi sleeping. Every now and again he stroked her head lightly and waited to see if any part of her would move. He was hoping she would wake up so she would look at him too. When Sis Pauline began talking about
malunde,
Sipho was slowly encouraged to join in and tell Ma bits and pieces about how he had been living. He began to relax, and when Ma boiled water in the pot for some tea, she insisted Sipho drink his before she used the same mug for herself. However, there were things he did not tell Ma. He didn’t mention
iglue,
and he said nothing about being attacked, the
gumba-gumba,
the lake or the man with the broken bottle.

“Is it true, my son, that you stayed with a
white family?” Brother Zack must have said something about Mr. Danny.

“I was working in the shop, Ma, and the owner, Mr. Danny, took me home…but his son didn’t like it. Only the daughter…she was friendly.”

“I see you have been learning many things,” Ma said quietly.

There was sadness in Ma’s eyes. She said nothing about him stealing money from her purse. Nothing about him running away. If she was still angry with him, he had to know.

“I’m sorry I took your money, Ma…I didn’t have money for the taxi…I had to get away from him, Ma…”

It was out…from his own mouth. Would Ma lecture him now about his stepfather? He didn’t think he could take it. But with the baby sleeping in his arms, he couldn’t just jump up and storm out. He took a deep breath and waited to hear what Ma would say.

Sis Pauline spoke first.

“Many
malunde
run away because there’s trouble with a stepfather. It’s so common, especially when the stepfather is under pressure…like no job and no money.”

There was silence. Sipho bit his lip and looked at Ma. To his surprise and dismay, a tear was rolling down her cheek.

“I felt so bad when he ran away. It was like I had forced away my own child…because this husband of mine was always angry with him…and I couldn’t stop this man…”

Ma’s voice was choked. Sis Pauline took Ma’s hands in hers.

“Don’t be upset with yourself, my sister. Life is hard and we all have to learn how to live it.”

Sipho sat softly rocking the baby, trying to take in what Ma had said. She wasn’t angry with him. She was blaming herself. He himself had blamed her for letting his stepfather beat him, never thinking how hard it had been for her too. Ma was now explaining to Sis Pauline that his stepfather was trying to get a job. There was a rumor that some men were needed for road work. That was where he was today. If only he could start earning, she felt sure he would become calmer and change back to how he had been when she first met him. Then they could rent a proper house with enough rooms for them all, and perhaps…

Ma didn’t finish her sentence. Sipho had declared he would never go back while his stepfather was there. Brother Zack must have told her that. What Ma was saying was surely just a dream.

“I understand your feelings, Mama,” said Sis Pauline, “and I can see that you are praying for
your husband to change. But will he do something about his drinking problem?”

Suddenly Ma was downcast again.

“You want Sipho to come home, Mama, and we want him to be with you too. But he can’t come home while your husband is drinking and then beating him. He’ll just run away again.”

“I hear what you are saying,” Ma said quietly.

Sipho listened intently as the two women spoke. He could see what Sis Pauline was doing. She was saying to Ma very gently that Ma mustn’t build all her hopes on his stepfather changing…that if she wanted Sipho to return, she must be able to offer him a safe home. Baby Thembi needed a safe home too. Sis Pauline was actually asking Ma to think about what she herself could do to change things. What Judy had once told him about Mama Ada flashed through his mind…that she had got rid of her husband, who was always drinking. Mama Ada seemed such a strong and wise person. But maybe she too had once been like
Ma.

“Give us a chance to work with you,” Sis Pauline was saying. “We can keep Sipho for a little while to give you time to work things out. We’re not God, Mama, but we can try to help you. Women have to learn to be very strong.”

Baby Thembi’s eyelids fluttered and opened.

She lay looking up at Sipho with big, trusting eyes.

“Sawubona,
Thembi! Hello, my little sister! Let me see you now you are awake.”

Sipho lifted her up to face him, putting his hand behind her wobbly head. She felt so firm and delicate at the same time.

“See how she’s looking at you!” laughed Sis Pauline. “When she’s a bit older, she won’t let you go.”

For a few minutes Sis Pauline and Ma sat talking about babies while Sipho and Thembi continued to examine each other. Then Sis Pauline stood up.

“It’s time for us to get back now, Mama. You have our phone number. Just ring me or Brother Zack any time you want.”

With Thembi wrapped on her back, Ma walked with them. Outside the shops, a taxi was filling up with passengers.

“Sala kahle,
Mama.” Sis Pauline shook Ma’s hand. “We’ll try to look after your son well.”

“Will you come to see me and your sister, Sipho?”

Ma’s voice was strange, and her eyes were wet. She was trying to hold back her tears. Throwing his arms around her, he held her tightly. Ma’s arms enclosed him. He could feel sobs rising inside him. Swallowing hard, he pushed them
back down. Releasing himself, he promised to come again.

“I want to bring Thembi a present, Ma,” he said, but he didn’t say what it was.

By saving up the pocket money Brother Zack gave out on Fridays, he was going to buy the little wooden rhino. It would be his own special gift to his sister. When she learned to sit up like the baby in the taxi, she would be able to hold it in her fist, and Ma could make up little stories, like Gogo used to do when he was small.

From the back window of the taxi, Sipho watched as Ma waved, getting smaller and smaller. He waved back until she was only a speck. Turning around, he pressed his lips tightly together, aware that other passengers were looking. But Sis Pauline took no notice of them. Putting her arm around his shoulders, she hugged him. He remembered what she had said before. It’s okay to cry…and when you cry you know what is inside your heart. Sipho’s eyes filled up. Ma had her dreams, and so did he. If only she could be strong…like Mama Ada. But if her dreams didn’t come true, then perhaps his would. If he did well in school, one day he would get a job and a house. Ma and Thembi could stay with him then. They were part of his dream…Sipho let the tears flow.