What Surviving Gave Me
1061 Words
“Mr Mabaso, I’ve been praying for your comeback,” he said, his voice firm yet full of relief.
“I always told your brothers… the day you return, everything will fall into place.”
He looked me dead in the eyes, without blinking.
“You are back, right?” he asked.
Not a question — a confirmation.
Like he already knew the answer before I opened my mouth.
I swallowed slowly, feeling the weight of everything he expected from me.
Everything the community expected.
Everything I never asked for, but somehow carried.
“Yes, ntate,” I said quietly.
“I’m back.”
He nodded once — a slow, powerful nod — like a chief approving a warrior before battle.
Just then, Joshua arrived from school.
He saw me standing by the gate, and the smile that spread across his face…
It washed away everything else for a moment.
His eyes lit up with a kind of happiness I hadn’t seen in him for months.
He walked faster, almost running, and I could feel what that meant:
He felt safe again.
But still… no sign of Sibusiso.
His phone just rang and rang — or went straight to voicemail.
A man who hides never answers his phone.
As the sun started dropping behind the houses, my brothers came back home.
They looked tired, confused, and honestly… guilty.
Maybe they felt the pressure of my presence.
Or the shame of letting the house turn into a playground.
I didn’t shout.
I didn’t lecture.
I just walked them outside and said:
“Let me show you something simple.”
We swept the yard.
Picked up papers.
Moved old crates.
Cleared the broken bottles and stones.
They watched me closely — like they were seeing a version of me they’d forgotten.
“This is how we keep our home clean,” I said.
Not as an order…
but as a reminder.
And for the first time, they listened without arguing.
Later that evening, when the sky had gone quiet and the dogs were barking in the distance, I called Rebecca.
I needed her voice.
She answered softly.
“Love, are you okay?”
Her tone told me she already sensed everything, even without details.
I walked to the quiet corner of the yard, looking up at the stars.
“I’m here,” I said.
“But things… things are not right.
There’s too much happening.
I’m trying to hold everything together.”
Rebecca exhaled gently — the kind of breath that carries understanding, not judgment.
“You’re doing your best,” she said.
“And your best is enough.
Just remember: you don’t have to fix the whole world in one night.”
Her words felt like a warm blanket on a cold chest.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too,” she replied.
“And I’m proud of you.
Handle things one at a time.
I’m here.”
After the call ended, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
A storm was coming…
I could feel it in the silence.
But at least…
I wasn’t facing it alone.
I bumped into Sibusiso on my way to the gate.
I wasn’t expecting him. And clearly, he didn’t expect to see me either.
He stopped mid-step. Blinking. Shocked — but trying hard to hide it.
His smile came too quickly, too forced.
“Bhuti… You’re back?” he said, pretending to be warm.
I didn’t answer immediately. I stood there, leaning on the pillar for balance, the cool cement steadying me as I tried to process everything. All the missing wiring. All the missing taps. All the whispers.
But I kept my face calm.
“Ja… I’m back,” I said.
His eyes darted around — almost checking if anyone else was listening. He scratched his neck, then tried again to act normal.
“It’s good, man. Really good,” he said with that fake laugh people use when they’re hiding something. “Things will straighten now that you’re here.”
I just nodded.
Joshua appeared at the corner, coming from school again. The moment he saw me and Sibusiso talking, he froze.
Then he looked down at the ground — like a child searching for a stone, but really hiding fear.
That told me everything.
He knew. And he was scared for me.
Before I could say anything more, my phone vibrated.
A message from Rebecca:
“I heard you doing wonders at your place. It’s no longer a playground. Keep it up, Baba Olerato. I believe in you.”
It hit me like a warm wave. In a world filled with doubt and gossip, she was the one person who spoke life into me.
I looked at the screen again, inhaled deeply, and pocketed the phone.
When I looked up, Sibusiso was already walking away — fast — pretending to be late for something.
I watched him disappear down the road.
Something wasn’t right. I could feel it in my bones.
That night the dream came again.
Stronger. Clearer. More detailed than ever.
I found myself walking behind the man with the K-Way hat again — but this time he wasn’t blurry.
This time, I could see his trimmed beard. Black, neat, sharp. He was taller than me — broad shoulders, hands in his pockets. He walked with a calm confidence that didn't match the fear he brought into my real life.
I got closer.
One step. Then another.
My breathing grew louder inside the dream. Almost real.
He slowed down… As if he could feel me behind him.
My hand stretched out — I was about to tap his shoulder.
The moment I came close enough to see the shape of his jaw… the outline of his cheek… the shadow under his hat…
I woke up.
Gasping.
Sweating.
My heart beating too fast for my body.
I shot up in bed and pulled the curtain open with one yank.
Cold morning air hit my face.
Outside, the world was quiet — too quiet.
The sky was that pale grey before sunrise.
I placed my palm on the cold window glass.
Something was coming.
Something big.
Something connected to the dream… my home… my brothers… and the man with the K-Way hat.
And for the first time, I wondered:
Was it a warning? Or a message?
- Writer
