change of heart

It is a cool summer afternoon in the village of Sithebe, near the coastal town of Mandeni. Sphelele is sitting on a footpath, looking at the rolling hills in the distance.

Sphelele’s body is resting but in his mind there is turmoil. His conscience eats at him at times like these. Just yesterday he was the driver when his father, Dennis, committed another murder. In the two years since Sphelele finished matric he has witnessed Dennis commit six murders for different taxi associations.

His cell phone rings. ‘Baba’ flashes on the screen. Sphelele sighs and answers.

“Baba?”

“Sphelele, I need to discuss something with you,” says Dennis.

“Why don’t you just tell me what we are going to do, Baba? At least if you tell me I can prepare myself mentally. Is someone else going to be killed today? Is that not what you want to tell me? That you need me to drive you to-”

Reality suddenly dawns on Sphelele and he suddenly stops talking. He is surprised by the words he has just spoken to Dennis. Now he is scared.

“What did you just say to me? What did you just say, Sphelele?” says Dennis with rage.

“I’m sorry, Baba,” says Sphelele quickly. “Please forgive me. I didn’t-”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not far from home. I just took a walk to clear-”

“Let me know when you get home,” says Dennis before ending the call.

Sphelele lets out a long breath. Like a troubled man he speaks to himself. “I don’t have a future if I keep tagging along Baba. I want a better life where I will make honest money. I’m tired of inflicting pain on people. I have seen a many men die in these two years since I matriculated. But how will I even begin to ask Baba to leave me alone because every time I ask for anything he reminds me how they found me in the rubbish bin as a new born; naked with the umbilical cord still attached to me?”

Dennis is shaking with anger as he takes a seat at the kitchen table opposite his wife, MaSkhakhane.

“This damn boy is forgetting he is nothing to me. Who is he to speak to me like this? The Mngadi ancestors must be turning in their graves hearing that stray we found in the rubbish bin speaking to me like that!”

MaSkhakhane raises her eyebrows. “What did the boy say, Baba?”

“That’s not important, MaSkhakhane, what you need to know is he is lacking respect. He doesn’t know who I am!”

“Maybe he is going through something, Baba. Maybe that is why he spoke out of turn.”

“Don’t you dare take his side! You need to speak to the boy!”

“Fine, Baba, I’ll speak to him.”