CHAPTER 5Sifana neengonyama
Lions like us
Perhaps Mama and Uncle Luthando really did have the best of intentions, at least for a while. Neither Nomtha nor I comment on the fact that he is sleeping in her bed from that day on. But it is Nomtha who, a week after my thirteenth birthday, drags our two sleeping mats as far away as possible from our mother’s bed – without asking me. As our hut is very small, it is a matter of barely two metres difference. But everyone understands the gesture, including Uncle Luthando. For the next three months, he makes every effort to prove us wrong in distancing ourselves from him. He gets up early every morning except Sundays, to look for work. “A real job,” Mama emphasises with a nod to us.
As a rule, he starts by doing the round of several farms in the n
