I stopped checking the safe every night.
For seven years I counted. R50 here, R100 there. Open. Close. 1925. Click.
Now I went three days without opening it. Four days.
The money was still there. I was still there.
Trust, finally.
R66,700 in the safe. Salary R4,700. Rent R3,500. Saving R1,200 a month.
Month ninety-four, Amahle passed matric.
Distinction in math. He walked into my flat in his gown, certificate in his hand. No smile. Just tears.
He didn’t say anything. Just hugged me until my ribs hurt.
Zanele filmed it on her phone. “For when you have kids,” she said. “So they know who built this.”
I looked at the certificate. “Amahle Mthembu.” Not my name. But my work.
Month ninety-five, Thabo failed Grade 8 math. 38%.
He came to my flat with his head down. Same as Amahle
