10
PAYBACK
Sam ran from the supermarket, and chased after the car, but it was no use. Zinhle was gone. The simple ‘in-and-out’ robbery had turned into Sam’s worst nightmare come true.
“What the hell happened there, Sam?!” Mohammed screamed. “All my takings! Do you know anything about this? And those thugs threatened us with a gun. We could have been killed!”
“They took Zinhle, that’s all I know.” Sam felt desperate. He wanted to tear his hair out with fury and frustration. Why had Bra Frank taken Zinhle? Was the money not enough? Sam had put himself on the line. He’d become little more than a criminal himself to get the money to repay Bra Frank, and the whole plan had backfired.
“We have to call the police,” said Mohammed, starting to walk back into the shop.
At that very moment Sam felt and heard his cellphone go off in his pocket. It was Zinhle’s favourite song, ‘their song’ he called it; Kings of Leon’s ‘Manhattan’. The song she had been listening to that afternoon in the supermarket. The afternoon she had let him walk her home. Hearing it now made him feel even more desperate. He had to get her back! He read the SMS. It was her phone, but the deadly message could only be from Bra Frank.
if u eva wnt to c her ALIVE agen then
do as we say nd NO police
Sam ran after Mohammed. “Please, no police. Not yet!”
“I want my money back, Sam, and I have a good idea who the thugs are.”
“Please, Mohammed, look at this.” He showed him the SMS. “He has sent it from Zinhle’s phone. Give me a few days.”
“That’s even more reason to go to the police! Tell me, Sam, how are you mixed up in all this?”
“I’ll explain everything in twenty-four hours. I promise, that’s it. Then we go to the police together.” He could not tell Mohammed the truth. Not yet. But he swore, in that moment, to pay back every cent.
“One thing’s for sure, it’s time for me to get a gun. Next time I’ll protect myself,” Mohammed muttered.
Sam was already out the door. Who could he go to? Mr Sotshononda at The Haven Children’s Home? That would be the same as going to the police. He dared not. He ran to Vulamasango High. He waited for the school to be dismissed, then looked for Thando and Nombu. He had to face facts. They were smart. He needed help.
“What’s up with you, Sam, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Something terrible has happened. Zinhle has been abducted.”
Thando exclaimed, “What are you talking about? Why would anyone take Zinhle?”
“It’s my fault. I’ve got myself mixed up with Bra Frank.”
“We warned her not to hang out with you,” said Nombu. “You’re bad news, Sam.”
The two of them bombarded him with questions and accusations: “Why has this happened to her? Where is she? What are you going to do about it? What’s going on, Sam? How can we trust you, Sam? How do we know you’re not just trying to get money from us?”
“She was taken right from under my eyes, at the supermarket, during a robbery. He’s warned us not to call the police. If I tell the police, Bra Frank says he’ll do something to her. Rape her or kill her.”
He did not want to tell them it was his fault, that he’d made a plan to let Bra Frank into the shop at just the right time to easily rob Mohammed. But he knew he had to be truthful. He sat down and said, “Please listen. Don’t judge. I am sorry for what I’ve done.” He told them the story. “Now I want Zinhle to be safe. I have to find her.”
“And soon,” said Nombu.
“Ja, he’s done this before,” said Thando. “Do you remember? That girl called Nikiwe? She just disappeared. Even the police are scared of him. No one goes near him.”
“You know I care about her like I’ve never cared about any other girl,” said Sam. “She’s my true love and now this happens. I don’t want to put her in any more danger. I want to give Frank the money, get her back, and then we can maybe talk about going to the police.”
“We can’t let him get away with terrorising our community any more. Frank has to be stopped,” said Nombu.
“Will you help me?”
“Whatever it takes, Sam, we’ll help you get her back. She’s our friend too,” said both girls at once.
His cellphone started ringing. He pulled it from his pocket, put it on speaker.
Zinhle’s tortured voice cried: “Help me! Do what he says, Sam, or he’ll kill me!”
Then he heard Bra Frank’s chilling demand: “Get R5000 to me in three days or she is mine to do with what I want …”
~•~
“That’s enough noise!” Bra Frank yelled. “At least he knows you’re alive, and that we mean business.”
Zinhle wanted to scream again. Her heart was beating too fast and her hands were sweating. She had everything to live for, had to try every means to keep safe, so she forced herself to speak quietly: “Please, let me go. Don’t hurt me.”
“If your boyfriend comes through, you’ll be back at school in no time,” he laughed.
It was the way he laughed – a cruel, evil sound – that made her realise she wasn’t safe. Zinhle couldn’t help thinking how disappointed her mother and father would be if something happened to her. They’d saved every cent they could to put her in a good school and she was going to go on to university. She wanted to be a leader. She was going to do politics and work to give people a better life. Now maybe she’d never get there. Her life flashed before her eyes as Bra Frank tied her wrists tight behind her back.
“You better be quiet, meisie, or we’ll chop your fingers off one by one and send them to that no-good, loser boyfriend of yours till he gets us the money we want,” Frank teased her. He ran his fingers down her cheek. She shivered: he terrified her. “Ja, be good, or we’ll send you back to your boyfriend a little worse for wear.”
~•~
It was hours later. She decided she had to keep up her strength. No way would she let these thugs get the better of her. Come on, Zinhle, she thought, giving herself a ‘pep talk’. You are a smart girl. Think, Zinhle, think!
She heard the door open and a voice asked, “Are you all right?”
“As if you care!” It wasn’t Bra Frank; it must be the other one.
“I don’t like what Frank is doing.”
“Then why don’t you let me go?” she whispered. “I’ll make sure you get a reward. Please.”
“I wish it was that easy, Sisi.”
“Then bring me some food. I’m hungry. What’s your name, by the way?”
“I’m Sipho, Sisi. Sure, I’ll bring you some food.”
“Hey, don’t I know you? The more you talk, the more I recognise your voice. You were a prefect at the school. What happened to you? How did you end up with Bra Frank? How did you get that scar on your cheek?”
“Life is what happened. Don’t ask stupid questions.” He turned, left the room and slammed the door. She wondered if she’d made him angry. I’d better be careful, she thought.
He came back soon with bread and slap chips, and her stomach rumbled. “Shoo. I’m really hungry.”
“If you promise not to do anything stupid I’ll untie you so you can eat.”
“I promise, and please, Sipho, will you join me?”
She hadn’t realised how starving she was. She ate the bread and chips fast. It surprised her that even at a time like this she felt hunger. It was because she also felt hope. She knew she had to get out of there. And Sipho was her ticket out.
“I remember how your tie was always skew. You were so cool. All the girls liked you. You were going places. Didn’t you get voted ‘most popular’? Who could forget a guy like you? You did well at maths and English.”
“I told you not to ask stupid questions,” he said.
But she could tell he wanted to talk because he didn’t leave the room. “What happened, Sipho?”
“I needed money for university. I borrowed from Frank. And when you can’t pay Frank back, then you join Frank. That’s how the gang works.”
They chatted and shared the rest of the chips and bread as if they’d been friends for years. “You have a pretty dress on. You don’t want to get it greasy.”
“Sipho, thanks. And thanks for being honest. Now I have to go to the toilet.”
“Come, I’ll take you.”
The window looked so small but it was her only chance. It was easy to pull the bars from the rotting frame. So far, so good. She climbed on the toilet, pulled herself up, pushed her head through and then her shoulders. A tight squeeze, but she was so nearly out. The taste of freedom made her heart beat. They thought they had her, but she’d be out in a second, and then she’d run so fast to the police. No way she’d let them get away with this!
Suddenly she heard a yell, “Hey, what are you doing?” She felt the pull at her leg. Before she could even scream she was being yanked back in.
“Sjoe, girl, what do you think you’re doing!?” said Sipho. She had never seen such rage. Sipho’s face was twisted and ugly. “You try to escape again, you dead!”
The last thing she felt was a punch in her stomach. A brutal punch. She couldn’t breathe, or even cry. Zinhle was dragged back to the small, dark room and tied up again.
~•~
Sam felt as if the butterflies from the beautiful poster he had bought for Sinethemba were flying around in his stomach – he was so scared. He clutched his cellphone, waiting for the next call, and, sure enough within a minute it started ringing. Would this be the call to say that Zinhle … ? He couldn’t even finish his own thought.
“So, we’re waiting. You have the money? You’d better have the money.” Frank’s voice was harsh. He meant business.
“I’m getting it together,” said Sam.
“You’d better get it together soon. Or you know what will happen.”
Sam heard the disconnect tone, and his cell started ringing again immediately.
“Sam!”
“Sisi! I’m so glad it’s you, Sinethemba. Just stay inside, OK? I’ve got myself involved in some bad business and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Too late for that, Bhuti. When Uncle was out Mam’Gqwashu came here, with two men. They took me, Sam. I’m back at Mam’Gqwashu’s but she’s locked me in. Noni got a phone for me … but I haven’t got much …”
Then they were cut off.
Sam could not believe what he was hearing. Not only was Zinhle in the clutches of Frank, but Sinethemba was back with that evil woman. Now both the people who meant the most to him in the whole world were in danger. Bra Frank and Mam’Gqwashu were the same type, cut from the same cloth. All they cared about was money, power and cruelty.
He got a taxi and went straight to Mam’Gqwashu’s. “Mam’Gqwashu!” he yelled outside her door. “I want my sister, and I want her now!”
He saw the front door open a crack. Heard it open. Someone pulling back locks and a chain. And then it opened fully and there she was, fat and sweaty Mam’Gqwashu, pointing a finger at him. “She’s mine. You had no right to take her. Now, you cheeky boy, get off my property! You can have her if you pay for her. Another few thousand should do it.”
With that her bodyguard, who also ‘supervised’ the orphans’ work, came after Sam. The man hit him in the face and Sam felt the blood flow from his nose. Then he kicked Sam as he lay on the ground. “Now get up and get out! And if you ever cross onto Mam’Gqwashu’s property again, it’ll be the end of you and your sister.”
Sam mopped up the blood with his sleeve. He ran down the street. How on earth would he work it out? He needed money for Frank and Mam’Gqwashu.
He thought of Zinhle. He wanted to kiss her, put his arms around her. He thought of his sister, how he had promised his mother to look after her. And now his whole world felt as if it was going to pieces and there was no way he could put it back together again.
Again his cellphone rang.
“Sam.” Frank sounded hard; as if he meant business, “My good friend Mam’Gqwashu called. She said you’re making a nuisance of yourself. You’re a no-good loser, Sam. Everything has a price. And I’m still waiting for the money for your pretty Zinhle. So far you’ve come up with nothing. Not a cent. I’m disappointed. And now we have your sister too. I thought they meant more to you.”
“They do. Please, I’m getting the money.”
“If you don’t,” he said and paused for dramatic effect, “I’m going to have such a good time with your girlfriend. I can see why you like her so much …”
“Please,” begged Sam. “I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt her.”
“Ja, tell you what, Sam, let’s make a deal. You have to make good. You can come work for me and make it up to me. Let’s see how useful you are.”
“Never, Frank. I’ll get you the money, but join you? Never.”
“What a pity. Oh, and as far as your lovely Zinhle goes, I’ve decided to keep her.”
Sam felt his world spinning around him and he fell to his knees. His eyes stung and he tried not to cry. What would Mr Sotshononda say if he saw him like this, kneeling on the ground with tears of frustration running down his face? He missed his mother, and thought about what she always used to say when faced with a challenge: “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
Repeating these words under his breath, Sam got off the floor. Now all he felt was anger. Sam clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. If Frank wanted a fight, that was exactly what he was going to get.
~•~
Frank pressed ‘end call’. “That’ll give you something to think about, Sam!” He lit up another cigarette and took a deep drag. How dare Sam say no to working for him? Frank could not remember when last someone turned down the chance to be one of his boys … with all the money, the cars, the girls that he provided.
But Sam would come around to the idea. He’d have to … or else. He heard a rap on the door, opened it to Mam’Gqwashu with a smile and a wink. “Good to see you, Mama. You say you’ve brought me fresh meat?”
Mam’Gqwashu’s grin spread across her face, the light twinkled on her gold tooth. She pushed a pretty young thing into the room. The girl looked scared, and she did not look up from the floor.
“This is Sinethemba,” Mam’Gqwashu said, poking the girl in the back with a crooked finger. “You might know her brother. I believe you’ve had words? Well, this one is so pretty I’ve brought her to you for the club, Frank. It’s time to make the girls work for us, after all we’ve done for them.”
Frank walked around Sinethemba, looked her up and down, said: “Not bad.” He grabbed her wrist and chuckled. “She’s a bit skinny, but we can fatten her up in no time.”
Frank had already decided that Zinhle would be going to the club tonight. No way he was going to wait for Sam to pay him the money. Zinhle would bring in a packet. She was so gorgeous – her smooth, clear skin, full lips and shapely body … The guys would be lining up for her. But Frank was going to break her in first. And now he had more fresh meat!
“Two sweet girls. But why bring this one to me, Ma? Have I been a good boy?” Frank chuckled and Sinethemba looked up with fear and disgust at the gangster, who was leering at her.
“That brother of hers has to learn a lesson. He stole her from me in the first place. I can’t allow the message to get out that I’m soft. Nor can you, Frank,” said Mam’Gqwashu. It sounded almost like a warning …
“Well, well, well,” grinned Frank. “Now I recognise you, little sista. You are Sam’s sister.”
“Yes, that’s right, you idiots – and he’s going to come get me in no time! Then you’ll be sorry you treated me like a piece of meat.” Sinethemba’s outburst surprised Mam’Gqwashu and Frank, who stepped towards Sinethemba threateningly. He raised his hand and Sinethemba cowered, waiting for the slap … but it didn’t come.
“We can’t have any marks on you before tonight, my darling. Ma – seems like this one has a wild streak. Don’t worry … I’ll fix that and make her nice and obedient.” Then he threw Sinethemba into the same room as Zinhle. “Get acquainted, girls. Tonight we’ve got a treat for you. You ever been to a night club? Just wait till you see the bright lights – you’ll never want to go to school again.” He slammed the door shut.
Frank offered Mam’Gqwashu tea. They sat together on the stoep, drinking and talking.
“That brother of hers is causing trouble. I don’t want the police on my doorstep,” Mam’Gqwashu complained, waving her fat, crooked finger at Frank.
“Be cool, Ma. Chill. I’ve got it all under control. Sam will not trouble you any more after my boys get to him. That’s a promise.” Mam’Gqwashu knew that Frank kept his promises, and she felt her tension fade.
Frank rubbed his hands together and thought back to that fateful day, six months ago, when he had decided to lend this kid ten grand. Seems like that was the best decision of my life, he thought, with a chuckle: he had got back much more than that amount from the robbery, and had scored two lovely ladies for free. He sent Sam an SMS:
Yr sisi is cute, nw I hve 2 of your grls …
dat sweet meat is all mine
Sam was pacing outside his school when he got the message. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and he felt like he was going to be sick. I must act now, he thought, before it’s too late. Sam messaged Nombu and Thando, as well as Xolani. They met outside the school gates. Sam was so tired, but he had hope once again. Nombu and Thando were smart girls, and Xolani could help too – even though he’d screwed up. Sam knew this was his last chance to save the girls he loved.
~•~
Sinethemba fell down in the dark room, crying out in pain as the rough concrete floor grazed the skin on her knees. She heard the door slam and lock behind her, and she heard Frank’s horrible laugh echoing through the wall. She wanted to scream but knew it would be no use. Her knees were scraped. Her palms were bleeding. But she could not focus on the physical pain – she had to think; figure out a way to escape. Sinethemba took a few deep breaths and tried to remember what her teacher had taught her in LO about dealing with a crisis situation.
“Hey, are you all right?”
Sinethemba nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the voice, soft and sweet like an angel’s.
“Don’t worry – it’s me, Zinhle, from school. They got me too, Sinethemba.” Zinhle’s voice broke and it sounded like she was going to cry.
“Oh, Zinhle,” Sinethemba sobbed, unable to hold back tears at the sound of a kind voice. She crawled on the floor to Zinhle and hugged her. “D’you know what they’re going to do to us? Turn us into, I can hardly even say it: prostitutes, whores. We’ve got to get out of here. Sam is trying to find you … I spoke to him … but then …” She started to cry even harder.
“He loves you so much,” Zinhle said, putting her arms around Sinethemba. “He will find us. I know it. How did Frank find you?”
“He was working with Mam’Gqwashu. They are in this thing together. Now I know where the girls went who disappeared from Mam’Gqwashu when I was living there. She would never tell us. One day they were there, the next day they were gone. It was always the older ones. There were terrible rumours of where they went … and now I know it’s true. Oh, Zinhle. It’s going to happen to us too.”
“No, Sinethemba. I won’t let it happen. Now it’s up to us, girl. No way will I let them sell us like slaves.”
Suddenly they heard the door being unlocked. The girls gripped each other in fear – was it Frank, coming to show them what tonight would be like? They breathed a sigh of relief as Sipho switched on the light and came through the door, carrying plates of hot chips with salt.
Zinhle knew somehow that Sipho was still her only hope – she remembered how he used to be at school: the Golden Boy, going places. If she could just make him see her as a human being, then maybe he’d switch sides and help them. She had to try.
“D’you have a sister?” she asked, as Sipho put the steaming plates down in front of them and Sinethemba started to devour the food.
He hesitated, and there was a long pause. But then he said softly, “Yes, I’ve got two. They’re younger than me.”
“How would you feel if something like this happened to them?”
“Of course I wouldn’t like it. I know it’s wrong, Zinhle. But you don’t understand. Frank owns me.” Sipho sounded panicked and frustrated, and Zinhle noticed that his face had the lines of a much older man.
“How can anyone own another person? Isn’t it time you stood up for yourself?”
“When you’re in a gang, you don’t leave. The only way to leave is to die. Now eat, before it gets cold.”
Zinhle saw that her plan was not working. Sipho was a good guy, but Frank had too much control over him. She knew she had to try a different tactic.
Bit by bit Zinhle pulled her dress down until it just covered her bra. Then she edged over and put her arms around Sipho and said, “Baby, I have been attracted to you since school days. Come, let’s have a little fun.” Surprised at her unexpected move, and overcome by lust Sipho turned towards her. Zinhle motioned frantically with her eyes for Sinethemba to run. Sinethemba tried to sneak past him, but Sipho heard her.
He pushed Zinhle to the ground, kicked her, and dragged Sinethemba back into the room, writhing and screaming. “You don’t learn, do you, Zinhle? You’re going nowhere.”
“What the hell is going on here?” said Frank, storming in to the room.
“Frank,” said Sipho, panting, “everything is under control. They not gonna pull any crazy stunts. I’m watching them.”
“It’s time to teach them a lesson. One they’ll never forget,” Frank said, his voice shaking with anger. He started to unstrap his thick leather belt, the metal studs gleaming.
“Hey, Frank,” said Sipho impatiently. “Not now, hey. We have to collect the booze for the club remember?”
Frank narrowed his eyes and glared at Sipho suspiciously. He walked out of the door and muttered under his breath: “Just you wait till I get back.”
Frank was gone. Sipho sighed deeply, relieved, and Zinhle could see that his hands were shaking in fear. He fished in his trouser pocket then slipped a cellphone into the pocket of her dress.
“Take this and use it to get help. If he finds out he’ll kill me, so keep your mouth shut no matter what, OK?”
“You doing this for us?”
“Yes, I don’t want you to get hurt. I need a way out of the gang life, so I’m doing it for myself too. The cell is prepaid. It can’t be traced to me. Good luck.”
Sipho left the room and Zinhle stared at the cellphone in wonder. She heard the muffled voices of Frank, Mam’Gqwashu and Sipho plotting on the stoep and wondered whether she’d ever see Sipho again …
~•~
Sam was at a loss. Thando, Nombu and Xolani had tried their best, but no one had come up with a plan to save Zinhle and Sinethemba from Bra Frank and his boys. They knew that going to the police wouldn’t help, and they had no money or contacts. Xolani had suggested a few things, but all could get them into trouble, and Sam was not willing to do anything illegal – look where it had got them so far. As the minutes ticked by, the group was getting more and more frustrated.
Suddenly his phone beeped. An SMS from an unknown number … He read the message and his eyes grew large. His jaw clenched and he shouted, “Shit!” making the girls and Xolani jump.
“Hey, Sam, what’s the matter? Who’s the message from?” Nombu asked urgently.
“It’s Zinhle,” he said, and the girls gasped in both joy and surprise. “There’s more – you know Bra Frank has my sister too. Mam’Gqwashu took her to Frank. Now that evil woman is still there, planning with him how they’re going to split the money.”
“What money, Sam? What are you talking about?” asked Thando. Sam looked as if he was going to faint.
“I know,” said Xolani. “The money is from prostitution. Frank is going to take Zinhle and Sine to the club tonight – am I right?” Sam just nodded his head whilst Nombu started to cry.
“What are we going to do, Sam? We have to save them. We have to.”
“OK, guys, this is what we have so far: Zinhle and Sine are locked in a room in Bra Frank’s house. Frank, Mam’Gqwashu and one of Frank’s boys (he’s a good guy, really) are sitting outside, on the stoep. What’s our plan of action?”
Xolani looked up at Sam, and a smile spread slowly across his face. “You know what, Sam. I think I have an idea …”
~•~
Zinhle and Sinethemba saw what time it was on the cellphone’s display: 20:15. Zinhle knew that Frank’s club opened every night at 21:30 – she had heard her mother and the other aunties skinnering about some of the girls who worked there. How short their dresses were, how they took drugs to numb the pain of …
The door burst open and Frank stumbled into the room, his large body swaying against the light from outside. The girls could smell the alcohol on his breath: Black Label, his beer of choice. His eyes were red and he was sweating. Zinhle saw the outline of something in his hand and gasped. It was a gun. Frank came towards her and she shrank back. It was no use – she felt the rough wall against her back and knew that she was trapped. Sinethemba was frozen in the corner, too scared to move. Breathing heavily, Frank brought the gun up to Zinhle’s face and stroked it down her cheek. One tear rolled out of her eye, hitting the cold, dark metal of the barrel.
“There, there, don’t cry,” Bra Frank whispered, and a blanket of beer-breath suffocated Zinhle. “You’re my girl now. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. I’ll be gentle.” Frank brought his hand up to her dress and slipped the strap off her shoulder. As he was about to grab her breast, Zinhle heard a terrifying shriek. Sinethemba launched herself onto Bra Frank and started attacking him with her bare hands, scratching wildly.
“No, Sine! The gun!” Zinhle screamed, but it was too late. A shot was fired.
The noise from the gun was deafening, and both girls recoiled in shock, hiding their faces in their arms. The bullet hit the wall, but as Frank got up to grab Zinhle, Sipho came running through the door. “Sipho,” Frank gasped. “Help me put these bitches in their place!”
Sipho pulled out his own gun, and moved threateningly – towards Frank.
“Not today, Bra Frank. I’ve had enough of this shit. Let them go or …” Before he could even finish his sentence Frank fired at him, hitting him in the shoulder.
Sipho dropped to the ground and the girls cried out. Frank motioned with his gun in the air and shouted like a crazy person: “Who’s next, huh? Wanna cause more trouble with me, you whores?”
Neither Zinhle nor Sinethemba said a word. Their eyes were fixed on Sipho, shaking on the ground, the deep red of his blood seeping through his shirt.
~•~
Xolani knelt down and drew a sketch in the sand. “We have no time to lose, OK?” Sam and the girls nodded eagerly, listening closely to Xolani’s every word. “What we’ve been doing wrong all along,” he said, looking at Sam, “is trying to do this all by ourselves. And why? We know a lot, but we’re just kids. There’s no way we can take on Bra Frank and his boys alone.”
Sam understood what Xolani was saying, but was getting a headache from all this backwards and forwards talk. “But who can we turn to, Xolani? Who will help us?” Suddenly, Sam realised that there was someone. He felt so stupid – why had he not asked this man, who was like his father, for help before?
“I’ve got it!” Sam shouted. Mr Sotshononda was their answer. He was kind, clever, an upstanding member of the community, and had always been there for Sam. He would know what to do. “Quickly!” he shouted to his friends. “We need to take a taxi to The Haven Children’s Home right away!”
~•~
Mr Sotshononda opened the door in his dressing gown, holding a steaming cup of black coffee, clearly tired from a busy day at the Home. Sam hugged him without saying a word, and Mr Sotshononda wrapped his arms around him.
Then Sam told him that they needed his help desperately. That it was a matter of life and death. That they couldn’t call the police. He told him about Bra Frank and the SMSes.
“You can explain as we drive,” said Mr Sotshononda as he opened the doors to his car and they got in.
In the car Sam told him the whole story. He told him about his sister and how she lived with him now. He started with how responsible he felt for Sinethemba after their father had died – how he knew it was up to him to give her a good life, and ended with the details of how Zinhle had been kidnapped by Bra Frank, and Sinethemba given to him by Mam’Gqwashu.
Mr Sotshononda was a quick thinker and he had a plan. He was going to keep Frank and his boys and Mam’Gqwashu busy on the stoep whilst Sam, Xolani and Nombu went round and in through the back door to get Zinhle and Sinethemba, and Thando kept watch.
“But, Mr Sotshononda,” asked Xolani, “how do you know where Bra Frank’s house is? How do you know that it has a back door? What if it doesn’t?”
Mr Sotshononda turned to look at each one of his passengers, and said quietly as they pulled up near Bra Frank’s place: “I know you see me now as a perfect man, as a good example. I wasn’t always like this. I too had to look after my siblings from a young age, and I got involved with Frank’s gang when it was just starting up. Luckily I managed to get out of it early on and rebuild my life. That is why I am helping you: I understand what it feels like to make a mistake that can change your lives, and the lives of people you love.”
For a moment there was complete silence as Sam and his companions tried to process what they had just heard. Suddenly a gunshot rang out from inside the house. Sam turned cold – were they too late? Was Zinhle or Sinethemba already hurt, or even dead?
“We must go along with the plan,” commanded Mr Sotshononda. “Go around the back now – I’m going to ring the bell and pretend I didn’t hear anything.”
A few minutes later Mr Sotshononda was sitting on the stoep with Frank and Mam’Gqwashu. Although he despised them both, they feared his influence over the community and treated him with great respect. Get on the wrong side of a man like Mr Sotshononda? Not even Bra Frank wanted to risk it. Drunk as he was, he sat politely with the unexpected guest.
Mam’Gqwashu went inside to make more tea, when suddenly the sound of police sirens deafened them and two patrol cars skidded to a halt outside the house. Bra Frank started to run, but it was too late. Three police officers with weapons jumped out of one of the vehicles and Bra Frank stopped in his tracks. A policewoman shouted, “Stop! We were alerted to a shot being fired here recently. Can you tell us anything about that?”
Just as Bra Frank opened his mouth to come up with an excuse, Sam and Xolani came round the back of the house, Sipho limping between them, his arm soaked in blood. Nombu and Thando were each holding Zinhle’s and Sinethemba’s hands. Everyone turned, distracted by this sight, and Bra Frank took his opportunity. He lurched to Mr Sotshononda, pulling out his gun and putting it to the other man’s head.
“Let me go,” he said in a cold, hard voice. “Or I will blow this man’s brains out.”
The policewoman stood her ground. “Put the gun down, or I’ll have to shoot,” she instructed.
Bra Frank realised he was cornered and shoved Mr Sotshononda to the ground with a grunt of frustration. Before anyone could blink, he was in handcuffs and being pushed into the police van.
~•~
One month later, and Sam’s life had turned around. A reward was paid to Mr Sotshononda and the kids by the police, for their help in the arrest of Bra Frank, the notorious gangster. They had decided to let Sam keep all the money, as he needed it most. Sam paid back Mr Mohammed, and was working in his shop every weekend for no pay, working off ‘community service’.
Sipho had recovered from his injury and Zinhle had persuaded him to go back to college. Sam and Sinethemba were doing well at school, and Mr Sotshononda – Uncle, as they now called him – visited them every week. Mam’Gqwashu was arrested along with Frank and space was made for her foster children at The Haven Children’s Home.
And what about Zinhle and Sam? Let’s just say they spent many afternoons like this one, together, eating fish and chips in the local park. As Sam stared into his girlfriend’s beautiful brown eyes, he thought to himself that Mr Sotshononda had been right after all – he had learned from his mistakes, and his future was bright.
Discussion questions
• Do you think Sam made the right decisions in this story? What would you have done in this position?
• What are some of the dangers of taking justice into your own hands?
About the author
Joanne Hichens is an editor and author working in Cape Town. She curates the Short Sharp Stories Award for the National Arts Festival, teaches Creative Writing at Rhodes University and is currently working on her fourth novel, Sweet Paradise, a sequel to her crime fiction novel Divine Justice.
Being a mentor…
What a privilege to be part of a project that encourages young writers. It reminded me how important it is to not only pass on skills but to express confidence in the skills of young writers. Young writers see and experience the world in a fresh and fun way, and readers relate to their point of view. They know what’s hip and happening! It’s especially important in South Africa to be creating South African stories by South African writers. We have so much talent just crying out for nurturing. I’m bowled over by the fabulous work FunDza does to inspire South African youth to read, and to write.
Mostly, I really liked meeting Phoebe Sibomana and working with her. Phoebe, you have great potential as a storyteller. So keep at it, girlfriend!