I’m hiding in my closet. I’m lying down on the couch that’s in here. I’m here for peace. I’m here for a break. I have my eyes closed and I’m listening to India Arie’s Moved By Youthrough my headsets. 

My headsets are removed from my ears. I open my eyes. My delicious husband is smiling down at me. I smile at him. 

“Are you alright?” He asks me. 

I sit up, giving him space to sit next to me. He sits down, brings my feet up and he starts pressing against them. It’s not a massage. He just presses against them. I think he loves my feet. He always says they are small, clean and cute. He also has very light and clean feet… but he’s a size eleven, so his feet are from small. I like giving him a pedicure. I do it once every two weeks and it’s paid off because his feet are soft, clean and beautiful. He even is confident in wearing slops or open shoes when he’s chilling at home, hosting people or going to the shops.

“I’m alright, baby. I’m just stressed out by the launch of Khanyi’s and Thingo’s lifestyle line. I won’t lie, having Thingo around full time helps me a lot. He really operates like a product owner. But Mfundo frustrates him a lot with budget.” I say. 

We both laugh. Then Thomas says, “Mfundo frustrates all of us. But he makes every financial year end amazing and everyone gets a healthy bonus because of him.”

“True story.” I say. 

We smile at each other. 

“We’ve done well”, he says. 

“You’ve led us well. Thank you, Mr R.” 

“You are an amazing leader as well, Mrs R. We love you for that.”

I smile at him. 

“Where are my boys?” I ask him. 

He looks rather nervous about something. 

“Downstairs. They are playing in the garden. They said they wanted to swim, but I told them to wait another two hours or so. It’s hot and the sun is not always good for them.” He says. 

I nod my head. 

His energy is changing. 

What’s going on?

He only gets like this when he is stressed. 

“What is it, Ramaru?” I ask him.

He looks at me for a loooooong time, then he says, “I love you, Fikile Ramaru. Promise me that you are confident in that.” 

“I am. And I love you too.”

He takes a deep breath. Then he says, “Rofhiwa came to see me at the office.” 

I wonder…

I look at him to continue. 

“She accused me of loving Khanyi more than loving her. She accused me of excluding her from our family because she’s still a reminder of Lydia in my life. She accused me of completely changing towards her when you and I met.”

Yoh.

“Obviously, I spoke to her and she seemed fine and understanding by the time that she left, making it clear that her problem is with me and not you, Khanyi or the boys. And I promised to do better. Obviously, I don’t want her to feel that way and I feel bad for making her feel like she no longer has a place in my life or in our family.”

I’m just looking at him because I genuinely do not know what to say. 

“She asked me to go to Venda with her to go clean her mother’s tombstone. It will be herself, myself and the twins.”

Now my body changes and I even remove my feet off his lap, stand up from the couch and leave the dressing room. 

I know I’m probably overreacting, but I don’t appreciate what Rofhiwa is doing. I really don’t. And if I say no, I know for a fact that our relationship will never be the same again. 

He follows me into the bedroom. 

“Baby”, him. 

I’m actually not interested. He can do what he wants to do. 

“Fikile.” He tries again. 

“It’s fine, Thomas. You can go.” I say.

“I’m not going if you don’t want me to go.” He says.

“What do you want me to say to you, Thomas? Honestly, at this point, what is expected of me?” 

He takes a deep breath and sighs. 

“If you want to go, Thomas, go. That decision cannot be mine to make. But thank you for telling me how Rofhiwa feels. If you feel going to your wife with your daughter and your grandchildren is what you and your daughter need – “Fikile! YOU are the only wife I have. And Rofhiwa is OUR daughter.”

“Whatever, Thomas.”

I leave the bedroom. 

…

I’m watching my sons play in the swimming pool. Thomas is somewhere in the house. 

“Kazi, come swim with us.” Gundo says.

“I don’t feel like swimming”, I say and laugh. 

“Come, kazi. I’m going to show you how to hold your breath for ten seconds under the water.” Rendani. 

I just laugh.

They are honestly fascinated by the simplest things. I wish I could see life through their eyes. It just seems so priceless. They laugh aloud all the time. They are extremely expressive so when they are angry, you know. Then when they learn something new, they just want to share it. My perfect baby boys. 

“Mama, are you alright?” Ranwedzi asks me. 

He’s the only child in this house or that’s walking on this planet that calls me “mama”.

He’s sitting next to me and is draping wet. 

“I’m good, baby.” I say. 

“Are you sure? Your nose is doing that twitching thing that it does when you are not okay. It’s a dead giveaway.” 

He is the most observant of my kids. He studies EVERYTHING.

“It’s nothing I can’t fix, baby. I promise.” Me. 

“Is it papa?” 

I just smile at him. 

“Come help me prepare a late lunch for your brothers.” I say. I know it will make him leave me alone.

He smiles at me slyly then says, “I’m too wet. I’m going to make the house dirty and leave drops of water everywhere.” 

“I can wait for you to dry up.” I say. 

He sprints and throws himself into the pool again. 

I just laugh.

This child thinks he’s so slick. 

As I laugh, Thomas comes to where I’m sitting. He has his hands in his pockets.

We look at each other. 

He pauses, studies me almost, then comes to sit next to me. He leans back then stretches his arms, having one arm cup me closer to him. 

I smile at him.

He takes a deep breath of relief. 

“Did I hurt your feelings?” He asks me. 

“I don’t know”, I say. 

He looks at me… confused.

“I just don’t know how much more understanding I can be. I try my best to honour your wife and what your family was like before she passed. I try my best to not offend you and Rofhiwa – to give you your space to mourn her and never forget her. But the two show me – VERY CLEARLY – that you don’t realise that by me allowing you to keep Lydia alive, I’m faced with the reality that if she were here, you and I wouldn’t be together. We wouldn’t have NIR. We wouldn’t have our family… our kids… our life as we know it. You don’t realise that by me giving you your space, I’m also reminded that I’m only here because Lydia is not here. I’m filling in for her, picking up where she left off and only filling in the part that she consumed in the family. I know I’m your second choice. I know. I’ve cried myself to sleep confronting that reality. So really, Thomas… what am I supposed to say? I’m second to Lydia, right? So anything that concerns her must always come first. You asking me how I feel is just an insult because you and Rofhiwa don’t care how I feel. You don’t care how I’m impacted. It will always be you, Rofhiwa and Lydia. Khanyi, Ranwedzi, Gundo, Rendani and I just fill in the gaps she left.”

I’m actually crying. 

He looks so heartbroken. So hurt. 

“Fikile, is that how you really think we view you? How I view you? How I view my kids?” 

“It’s how you make me feel, Thomas.”

I stand up and walk away because I don’t want my kids to see me this way. I make my way upstairs. I get into my bedroom, lock the door, get into my closet and just cry. I actually scream. 

After a few minutes, I clean my face up and unlock my door. I leave my bedroom, but I go into my study instead. I see that Thomas is not here. His car is even gone. The CCTV cameras all over my house have screen-viewing in mine and Thomas’ offices, our bedroom and our lounge area. 

The boys are gone too. 

I text Thomas, “Where are you?” 

He reads my message, but he doesn’t text me back. 

Okay, I guess we are in a bad place.

I phone him. 

“Hi”.

“Where are you guys?” I ask. 

“On our way to Rofhiwa’s house.”

I’m silent.

“I’ll see you when we get back.” He says. 

“Okay.”

He has hung up. 

…

Motshabi is struggling a bit at school, so I’ve had to sign her up to a tutoring programme at her school. It is quite a good programme and I’m happy that she’s applying herself. Her tutor is Tholoana Mohale. He is a grade eleven student who is a trained tutor. I know he is from the royal family of Tholoana Kingdom. But he seems like a nice and humble boy. 

“Mother…” She says as she sprints into the kitchen where I’m pouring myself a glass of wine. 

“Yes daughter?” 

“I have to play a sport at school. I’m annoyed because I’ve never played sports before and I have no idea what to sign up for. I’m bad at everything.” 

I actually laugh a bit. She looks very stressed.

“So why don’t you just tell them that you can’t play anything?”.

“Apparently, I have to try at least three sporting codes before doing away with the idea all together.” 

This is actually funny. 

“I’m going to try hockey. I was watching it on a sports channel yesterday and read up on Google. It seems like the easiest. Netball has too many rules. I’m not swimming because I’m black and my hair is not compatible with pool chemicals – plus, I’m still in swimming lessons. I won’t play soccer because it just doesn’t look like my thing. Tennis seems – 

“I get it. Hockey it is. So where do I come in?” 

“I need a hockey stick, shin pads and all these things”, she says as she gives me a list. 

I read the list.

This school is TAXING ME!!!

“Do they sell these at your school?” I ask her.

“Yeah. Mrs Hansmoore said you must sign this and they’ll charge it to the school fees.”

I nod my head, take the pen she had already left on this piece of paper, and sign the form. 

“How’s work?” She asks me. 

“It’s okay. You know, it’s work.” 

“You know a lot of famous people.” She says. She’s been saying this since Yaya’s funeral. 

“I messed up in this circle. A lot.” I confess. 

“I know.” 

Whaaaaaaaattttt????!!!!

“You do?” 

She nods her head and says, “Since people at school found out that you are my mother, they showed me every article ever written about you… your affair with Yaya and you being the reason that things ended between him and Thuli. The whole shabang!“

Wow! I’m honestly speechless.

“And how did it make you feel?” I ask her.

“I felt like I read a lot of what people had to say about you. Over three hundred articles were written about you, and not one of them had a quote from you. So until I hear it from you, it’s whatever to me.”

I’ve actually never thought about it like that. I must say, I’m appreciating her for not judging me.

“Do you want to know what happened?” I ask her. 

She shakes her head then says, “Everyone affected seems to be over it. Yaya is dead. Thuli has moved on and was even nice to you and me at the funeral. You need to let it go now and stop holding this against yourself.” 

I walk around the kitchen island and hug my baby girl. Wow.

“Thank you”, I say. 

She just holds me tightly.

“I’m going to go study. I have a session with Tholoana tomorrow morning before classes start.” She says. 

“Okay. I’ll bring you some snacks.”

“Thank you.”

She turns around and heads back upstairs. 

I decide to push some work. Rofhiwa has been on maternity leave for over a year and six months now, and no one knows when she is coming back. How much attention do her kids need? Dikwe informed me that she will be sitting in the Johannesburg NIR office with Mfundo Msomi now, so I’m technically the hotshot around here now. I do believe that Rofhiwa is my boss because her parents own this company and team. Rofhiwa is just a big baby and an entitled princess. Her work is not that great. She’s a better wife to Rea and mother to those twins than she is a corporate manager for NFR Legends. People like me do all the work and she just takes all the credit for it. People who are not her parents, like Dikwe and KB Tloung, have seen it too. We work better together and without her. We are all low-key happy that she left and went to South Africa. She can be deadweight and disrespectful there – because that’s another thing about her… she’s disrespectful and looks down on people because they are not born from money like she is. Disgusting actually. She hates me the most. It frustrates her that I’m so good at my job and she cannot fire me. But she speaks to me and looks at me like I’m a stinking upper lip underneath her nose. 

After a few hours of work, our helper comes into the house to start preparing dinner. I chill in the TV and go on a dating app. I’m horny. I just need sex. If I could get a male escort agency, I’d just hit them up. I don’t need commitment. Just the sex. Phathudi gave good sex. He’s just crazy. But shame, he knows what to do with a woman.

The first twenty profiles I come across are not making my lady parts dance. But profile twenty-one is looking nice. 

His name is Chase. 

He is new in Tholoana Kingdom. 

He was born and raised in the United States, New Orleans.

He is a Business Management Professional.

He plays basketball as a hobby.

He just wants to meet a new person to have fun with.

His picture tells me that looks-wise, he is just my size.

I like his profile. 

Within seconds…

“Now you look like someone I’d enjoy meeting. How you doing?” He texts me. 

“I’m good. Just fascinated by such a different and refreshing profile on here.” I text back. 

“For real? I’m sorry you’ve been exposed to dry. Let me make this wet for you personally.” Him. 

I like this guy! 

“Let’s make it happen.” Me. 

We exchange numbers and decide that we will chat on a more private platform. Then we decide that we will meet tonight. I told him I have a daughter, so no sleepovers. I’ll leave when she’s fast asleep and have to be back by the time she has to wake up for school. He is cool with it. 

10pm…

I arrive at the Reahile restaurant. It’s a 24hour restaurant, so we are meeting here. 

I see the guy on the picture that I saw. I’m happy. He looks as promised. He sees me and smiles. He stands up and my goodness, he is so tall. He can get it! ALL OF IT!

We walk towards each other and meet each other halfway. 

“You look gorgeous”, he says as he hugs me. 

His hugs are so warm. Proper. 

I return the hug. He smells so good.

“Thank you. You are looking amazing too”, I say. 

“I appreciate that”, he says.

We come out of our hug. He holds my hand and leads me to our table. 

Nice!

Our meals and drinks are here. I didn’t have dinner because I knew we’d eat here. My domestic worker is inside the house keeping an eye on Motshabi. She was asleep when I left, but I don’t want her to wake up in the middle of the night and find herself alone in the house. 

“So, what are you doing in Tholoana Kingdom?” I ask Chase. 

“The company that I work for expanded into Tholoana Kingdom. My bosses needed someone who could lead as a director from here. I’m the employee who was looking for growth and didn’t have to uproot an entire family, so I put my hand up.” He says.

“Okay. So you don’t have any kids or a wife?” I ask him. 

He laughs a bit. Yoh, his dimples, Morena waka. This man is a clean dark-skinned man with a beautiful smile. I’ll be very disappointed if all we do is talk tonight. But I will admit that his size and his way of communicating is making me feel more like a lady and less like a ho. 

“I got two daughters and two sons. But no wife or steady girlfriend.” He says. 

There just had to be something wrong with this person! Now I feel like a ho again. 

“How many baby-mamas?” I ask him, trying to make light of the situation. But I’m fishing… if it’s one baby-mama, I know he really loved her. I’d just wonder why he never married her. If it’s more than one, he’s a ho, so it would make me feel better about my intentions. 

“Four”, he says.

I burst into laughter. He laughs too. 

Okay, his heart is not committed to anyone. He’s just a fertile ho. 

“What’s your relationship like with the baby-mamas?” I ask. 

“Non-existent. We communicate through the courts.” 

Damn! I didn’t need him loving them, but I don’t need him to be a deadbeat neither where he needs to be taken to court to take care of his responsibilities. 

“What is your relationship like with your children?” I ask him. I’m actually concerned.

“I speak to my kids. Fortunately, they are old enough to just reach out to me and I reach out to them. My eldest daughter is sixteen. My eldest son is fifteen. My other daughter is fourteen. My last born is five and I’m still fighting for access to him.” 

Okay… he has crazy baby-mamas.

“What’s the exact issue?” I ask. 

“I used to play basketball. I was on my way to the NBA when I got injured. I lost money and endorsements and had to go back to school to pick myself up and choose another career path. At the time, I had three mouths to feed and a girlfriend I wanted to marry. But the women were not patient enough with me. They dragged me to court for child support and they knew that I didn’t have an income anymore. But I ended up having to sell my house, cars and all assets to support them until I could find my feet again. But they kept me away from my kids. I finally found my feet and got a job in corporate. I was taken back to negotiation, but I also negotiated access. I was given my access as once a week with my kids. I then had my last born, and the mother cheated on me with a professional basketball player. Now I’m fighting for access to him.” 

Okay, his situation is bad and he’s making me feel like a lady again.

“I’m sorry. But the good news is that kids grow up. They’ll get to a point where having a relationship with you is not up to their mothers anymore and you’ll be able to be the father you wish to be.” I say.

He gives me a faint smile then says, “How old is your daughter?” 

“Fourteen”, I say. 

He gives me a look that everyone gives me when I say that Motshabi is my child. She is my child and I generally am fine with people believing that I was a forward teenager when I had her. I don’t need to explain myself all the time. But seeing that Chase is so open with me, let me explain myself. 

“Well, my sister had her when she was in school and gave her away without telling anyone in the family. Motshabi found her way back to us and my sister still didn’t want her. So I took her and she’s mine now.” 

“That’s amazing. How’s your relationship with your sister?” 

“She doesn’t talk to me at all. But I’d like to believe that she’s relieved that Motshabi is safe and is well-taken care of.” 

He nods his head. 

“You don’t have any biological kids?” 

“I had one. She was raped and murdered.” I’m getting emotional. 

He holds my hand. He gets up from his seat and comes to sit next to me. He hugs me.

“I don’t want to cry. It’s been over a year. I have to heal.” I say. 

“Healing doesn’t have a timeline, RT.” He says. 

I take a deep breath.

“Where’s her father?” He asks me. 

“Back home. He hates me because I moved here and chose my career over our relationship. He even told me that I’m dead to him. And he blamed me for our daughter’s death.” 

He holds me tighter. Then he asks me, “Why did you choose your career over him?” 

“I don’t think I did. I’m from a very small town. I was working there, but the growth was minimal. I studied and knew I could make it anywhere. He always wanted to control me, and he preferred it when I needed him. When I got a job here in Tholoana Kingdom, I took it as our family being able to afford more. We were going to be partners and achieve every goal we had set for ourselves but couldn’t reach because of financial strains. For some reason, he thought I wanted to wear the pants in the relationship. He stifled me. Then I cheated on him with a man I didn’t really love, but he was someone who wasn’t intimidated by my growth. The guy ended up leaving me, but he made me feel just as much of a woman even though I have a high-paying job. I brought my daughter to live with me after her father tried to keep me away. Then she was kidnapped. When I found her, she was in a mortuary. She had been raped and murdered. He blamed me. I blamed myself. But I’m healing.” 

There’s a moment of silence between us. 

I’m not sure if I feel like a lady or a ho. But my lady parts are happy. My tummy feels tight. My head feels light.

“What time do you have to head home to Motshabi?” He asks me. 

“Before 5am. That’s when I have my physio session and she usually joins me. It’s just something we do together.” I say. 

“So I have to let you go now and let you have your rest?” He asks me. 

I actually don’t know what to say. I’m horny, but this could lead to something serious, and I don’t want it to move past me just because I was horny on the first date. I guess my sex toys will be working hard tonight.

“Yep.” Me. 

“I’d like to see you again.” He says. 

“I’d like to see you again too.” Me. 

“Maybe next time you can show me around this country.”

“I can do that.”

He smiles at me. 

“One more thing”, him. 

“Yeah?”

“Can we deactivate our profiles on the dating app? I think we’ve kind of hit the jackpot here and you know you can’t hit the jackpot twice, right?” 

I burst into laughter. 

He smiles at me.

I’m glad we are feeling each other! Like feeling each other! And it’s not one-sided.

“Sure”. Me. 

And…

He kisses me. 

Stunning!

…

My journey to finding my birth mother started when the older girls and I, at the home, started talking about what our plans will be after we turn eighteen. In a home, eighteen is the age you are asked to leave as you are considered to be an adult. I’m still wondering how they get to that decision because people who grow up in normal families and households with both parents in their lives don’t always have it all figured out at the age of eighteen. But I guess our mothers expected us to have it all figured out at birth when they just decided to no longer want us. What more can you expect from strangers? Mother, the head of the home, always said “Take school seriously. You’ll need that matric certificate.” She’d always tell us this once we hit the age of twelve. At twelve, the chances of you getting adopted become slim to none. Parents want babies… people they can influence and make believe that they were not given up at birth. Us… we are not tame-able. Hatred brews within us because by twelve, we’ve seen the world for what it really is. We’ve learned that older females can also molest you and you have nowhere to go because your biological parents are not interested. They lost interest a few days into your life. So you take it. And you’ll probably take it out on any adult who is crazy enough to love you when you’ve never got the opportunity to understand what love is. 

I started studying the office every chance I get. I’d volunteer to work in the office on weekends. They always looked tor girls to exploit, and I put my hand up, just so I can find anything that will lead me back home. 

I found my file and I found my mother’s details. Rehumile Sedibe.

I Googled her. She wasn’t famous, but I could trace an Instagram account and LinkedIn account. I looked exactly like her. The kids she posted looked nothing like her. I loved her and I hated her. 

Then I found the address she left and prayed with all my heart that it was still home for her. I checked how much a bus ticket would cost to get to this place, then a taxi to take me straight to the house. Then I made a decision. I decided on a day where I’d leave to go to school and just never come back. Mother would never look for me – that was a guarantee. I was old, so I was never going to make her money through being adopted. She generally doesn’t care about us when we have no monetary value. 

So that morning before the transport drove out to take us to school, I went into the office and stole all the money that was in mother’s drawer. It was about ten thousand rands. 

I put the money in my school bag, along with my books and a jacket. I took my sports bag and packed everything I could in there that belonged to me. 

I left with the transport to go to school. 

When I got to school, I changed into home clothes and before the school gate closed, I left. I got a taxi to the taxi rank. I waited about an hour for the taxi to fill up. Then, the taxi drove us to Johannesburg park station. When I got to park station, I looked for taxis to Bethlehem. Buses were going to take longer because I’d probably have to wait for the next bus out. I found one and it took three hours to fill up. I bought food and waited. When it was full, it embarked on a four-hour drive to Bethlehem. 

I finally found my family and it was Retshepile Sedibe who loved me like a daughter without molesting me… granny loved me too, and I love her for that. Reannetse is more like my sister. We even chat a lot on social media. Rehumile looks at me like I remind her of trauma. She says my dad raped her and she wanted nothing to do with him. I understand. More than she knows. I just wish she could open her heart to me. But I’m over it now. My mom, Tshepi, is all I could ever ask for. I think about phoning my friends at the home and telling them that I have my own room now and I live in an upstairs house. Mom says we live in a duplex. Listen, this is a big house. I love it. I’ve started swimming lessons, so I can actually make a plan with that pool. I have a domestic worker who doesn’t hit my bums and every time we fight, mom takes my side. Not hers. I’m even in a private school with rich kids and royal kids. I can talk about home and my mom and I wouldn’t be lying. Most importantly, I don’t have to have it all figured out by eighteen. I can take my time and be anything that I want to be. 

But I can’t phone them because I stole ten thousand rands from mother and until she dies, I’ll always be in danger of being arrested if she even sniffs that I’m rich now.

“Yo”, Tholoana greets me. He is with Mndeni, his best friend or cousin or whatever. They are just always together.

“Hey”, I greet them. 

It’s break. I’m doing homework so I can watch Korean shows when I get home. I don’t really have friends. When you are not born rich, you are like a disease at this school. The people who are cool with me are Tholoana and Mndeni. I don’t know what I’m going to do when they leave. They are in grade eleven. I’m in grade eight. I have a good three years without them here. Hopefully I will have made friends by then. 

“What are you doing?” Mndeni asks me. 

“Homework.” I say.

“K-drama again?” Tholoana knows my obsession with it. With TV in general. I’m exploring shows outside of the stupid soapies that those creepy people at the home used to watch. 

“Yep.” I say. 

They sit down. 

They place food and a drink in front of me. 

“I can buy my own food”, I make very clear. 

“I know. That’s why lunch is on you for all three of us tomorrow.” Tholoana says. 

Mndeni just smiles at me. 

“Okay”, I say. I can accept that. I also have money. I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. 

“Tomorrow is steak rolls”, Mndeni says.

Those are expensive. But I can afford them. It’s fine. 

I shrug my shoulders. 

“So, I’m shooting a sixty-five minute film for film studies class. I was wondering if you could help me.” Mndeni says. 

The subjects in this school compete with universities, I tell you. 

“I’m not an actress”, I tell him. 

“I know. I want you to help me write the script.” He says. 

I love writing. I could do it for free for the rest of my life. In this school, at grade eight, you do intensive script writing for film studies. You only start shooting and producing at grade ten. 

“Okay, I can do that. What’s your concept?” He smiles. 

I’m actually going to have fun.

“But you can’t distract her, monna. She still has classes and extra tutoring lessons. Her focus has to be on the books.” Tholoana says. 

“I can do both. Actually, if I do this for you, could you write to Mrs Hansmoore and tell her I’m helping you so she could leave me alone with the sports shit?” I say. 

Tholoana and Mndeni laugh at me. 

I’m not sure what the joke is? 

“Why don’t you sign up for sports admin?” Tholoana asks me. 

“Sports admin?” I enquire. 

“Yeah. So you do the administrative part of sports participation and you help with getting sponsors for our teams. Your mom could even help you. This is kind of what she does for the NFR Legends.” Tholoana explains.

I think about it. 

“There are different ways of being involved in sports. Don’t be stuck on just playing.” Tholoana. 

“How do I sign up?” I ask. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll refer you.” Mndeni says. 

Tholoana shakes his head at him. 

Trust me, I don’t like him like that. They are both cute and all, but I’m not interested in boyfriends right now. I need to make mom proud. I have to. I need to get my grades up and I’m struggling. Tholoana is a great help and I’m so thankful to his patience. I don’t want mom to ever regret betting on me. 

Break is over and the day moves pretty much fast. Before I know it, I’m back home and I’m about to watch my k-drama. 

I see my domestic worker has already prepared my lunch as well. I decide to speak to her today. We haven’t really been nice to each other since I got here. 

“Thank you for the food, sisi”, I say. She’s also shocked. 

“Okay”, she says. 

“Where are you from?” I ask her. 

She stares at me then says, “Mosebadi.” 

Wherever that is! 

“Do you have children?” I ask. 

She nods her head. 

“How old are they?” I ask. 

“My first born is silly like you. And she’s your age. My last born is three.”

I’m silly? Mxm! 

“How often do you go home to see them?” I ask.

“Weekends.”

I never noticed that she’s not here on weekends. But that’s because mom has us doing activities over weekends, so we are not always here. 

“Okay then”, I say.

As I leave the kitchen…

“Motshabi”.

“Yes?”

“I’m proud of you.” 

“Huh?”

“Thank you for not taking advantage of Miss Tshepi. She’s a good person. And I’m proud of how you are adjusting. You are doing great.” 

I smile at her. 

“Thank you. I want to make mama proud. So if you have any tips, please share.”

She smiles at me and nods. 

Okay, I’m done with this conversation. I leave and get my k-drama started.