Wounded warrior

I Choose Life

Joshua never showed up the next morning.

Not even a message.

Not even a sign that he intended to explain anything.

And that was when I knew:

Whatever was happening at home…

it was bigger than stolen taps and wiring.

It was deeper than gossip.

It was something my brothers were afraid to say.

Joshua always spoke to me.

Even when he was scared.

Even when he messed up.

But yesterday…

I saw something in his eyes I’d never seen before:

Fear. Real fear.

I sat outside Rebecca’s place, my stiff hand resting on my knee, my leg twitching every few minutes, my mind racing.

Rebecca walked out holding Olerato on her hip, a soft blanket wrapped around the baby. She immediately noticed the look on my face.

“Tebelo… where’s Joshua?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“He never came,” I said quietly.

The words tasted bitter. Heavy. Wrong.

Rebecca’s eyes softened with concern.

“You think something happened?”

I nodded.

“I f-feel it,” I said, breath trembling. “S-something big…”

She sat next to me, placing Olerato gently in her lap, watching my body language carefully.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

I swallowed hard.

There was only one answer.

Only one choice.

Only one place where the truth waited.

“I n-need to go home,” I said.

Rebecca stared at me, her eyes tightening with worry.

“Now?” she asked softly.

I nodded again.

“Y-yes…

I’m the only p-pillar at home…

injuries or not.”

She opened her mouth, ready to argue, ready to protect me, ready to insist I wasn’t strong enough yet…

But she didn’t.

Because she saw it in my face: the fear, the responsibility, the urgency.

She saw a son who had no choice.

She placed her hand on my thigh, steadying the shaking in my leg.

“Tell me what’s happening,” she whispered.

I tried.

I really tried.

But the words wouldn’t come out clear.

“I… I c-can’t f-find the words,” I stuttered, feeling the frustration build in my chest. “I just… I f-feel it, Rebecca. My f-family needs me.”

She exhaled slowly, accepting what she already knew: I was going, no matter what.

Her voice softened.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Then let me help you prepare.”

She lifted Olerato, placed the baby inside, grabbed my jacket, fixed the collar around my neck.

“Our home needs you,” she said, touching my cheek. “But remember — we need you too. Don’t push your body too far.”

I nodded, eyes burning.

Then she held my stiff hand, using both of hers to wrap it gently around my cane.

“Go,” she whispered. “And whatever you find there…

don’t face it alone.”

I stood slowly, my leg dragging, my heart pounding.

I didn’t know what waited for me at that house.

But I knew one thing:

I had to face it —

even if it meant breaking apart all over again.

I cried on the inside, asking God to lead my way. Protect Rebecca and Olerato… I'm not leaving by choice. I believed I’m the chosen one, so I couldn’t complain—only move forward.

I heard kids shouting and running inside the yard. But the moment they saw me standing by the gate, everything went quiet. They froze, then smiled shyly as they slipped out, one by one, like they were caught doing something they shouldn’t.

I called Onnie, my youngest brother, and told him to go summon Edward. Meanwhile I told Joshua to get inside the house. His hands were trembling. His eyes couldn’t stay on mine. My heart sank deeper.

Then the truth dropped like a stone in my chest.

I was shocked—finished—when they told me that uncle Sibusiso was the one stripping everything from the house, and he wasn’t alone. He came with his friends… taking what they wanted… like scavengers feeding on a dying home.

My head went numb. My chest tightened. Even my injuries couldn’t compare to the pain of seeing my own blood tearing apart the very place we depended on.

“What?? How?? Where is he??” I asked, my voice cracking between anger and disbelief.

Joshua looked down. “I don’t know… but he’s been doing all this since you left.”

My blood ran cold.

Then he lifted his head slowly, eyes searching my face. “Are you finally back?” he asked… and the way they all looked at me, it was like they were waiting for a soldier to return from war.

“Yes… I’m back,” I said quietly, but the words hit the room like thunder. A promise. A warning. A declaration.

That’s when I noticed it— Edward and Onnie. The way their shoulders dropped. The way their faces changed instantly when they realized…

…I was sleeping here tonight.

Fear? Guilt? Relief? I couldn’t tell. But something in the atmosphere shifted, thick like smoke before a fire.

They knew things. They had seen things. And whatever happened in this house while I was gone… I was walking straight into the middle of it.

I saw him again after a long time— the man with the K-Way hat. But this time it felt deeper than a dream… more like a vision.

He stood the same way he always did: dark blue jersey, black jeans, and those size-seven black Carvela shoes, shining like they were just polished. He was facing away from me, hands in his pockets, as if he’d been waiting there for years.

I walked toward him slowly, each step heavy, my chest tightening. I wanted to see his face. I needed to see it.

But just when he was about to turn… when my eyes were inches away from the truth…

I jolted awake.

Sweating. Heart racing. Breathing like I had been running in my sleep.

It wasn’t the first time. Right after the incident years ago, the same dream haunted me over and over, like a warning I didn’t know how to read.

But now—after everything that was happening at home, after the gossip, after the wires and taps disappeared, after uncle Sibusiso and all the secrets—I felt it clearly:

There’s something my ancestors… or my God… is trying to show me.

Something connected to that man. Something connected to the day everything changed.

And this time, I couldn’t ignore it.