Hurt

“Ntombi, I’m going out.”
“Mama, you can’t. It’s the third time this week and I’ve got …” But before Ntombi could finish her sentence her mother was already giving her a list of things to do while she was at Thabiso’s Tavern.
“There’s some money left for you and Zinzi. Make sure Zinzi does her homework – and don’t let her stay up too late! How do I look?” She did a twirl in the middle of the living room. Ntombi looked at the silver top and new jeans her mother was wearing and her heart sank. They were yet another gift from her mother’s new boyfriend, Zakes. Every time he went out with her mother he gave her something – but there was never enough money left over to buy something for her or her sister. He never had anything for them except for his unwanted ‘words of advice’. Words that made Ntombi want to throw something at him. Cruel, mean, words.
“You girls will never get boyfriends looking like that. Why don’t you do something to your hair? You look like village moegoes. No, what you need is to go to the hairdresser, get some braids.”
With what money? thought Ntombi, but she knew if she questioned him out loud, he would get angry and her mother would only take his side. She was forever saying, “Now don’t upset Zakes,” or “He’s only teasing; don’t be so sensitive,” or, even worse: “Maybe you should take his advice. You know he’s a very successful businessman.” And once when she was really mad, she shouted at Ntombi: “He is my boyfriend and you must respect him. His word is law!” Their mother had become a stranger. Ntombi wanted her old mother back.
Even when it was just the three of them it wasn’t the same. Zakes still messed things up between them. “What does he do?” Ntombi asked her mother on one of the few nights that her mother was home these days.
But her mother had looked unsure and started picking at her nail polish. “He’s in business…” she said uncertainly.
“What kind of business?” Ntombi wasn’t going to let her mother off the hook so easily.
“I don’t know. He’s a car dealer, a sales rep.” Her mother sat up on the bed, where they had been lying. “Anyway why all the questions? Are you the police?” Her mood had changed and she was glaring at Ntombi. “All I care about is that he treats me good, and that he’s got a good job. You’ve seen the way he dresses, and the car he drives.”
“Mama, you used to tell me those things didn’t matter. You used to tell me it was what was inside that mattered. You told me you married Dad for love…”
“And look where that got me!” her mother interrupted. “I don’t see him in this room. Do you?” That was the end of the conversation. Her mother had got up and gone through to watch a soapie on TV.

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Ntombi didn’t trust Zakes one bit. He was a fake through and through. And what was worse, she didn’t like the way her mother acted when he was around. Like she was their older sister, competing over guys, rather than their mother who should be looking after them, giving them good advice, and protecting them from men like Zakes.
When her dad left a year ago, just after her fourteenth birthday, her mother was very sad, but at least they still felt like a family. They cuddled up on the couch together and watched
Bold, and laughed and cried together. And then, one day, Mama came home from the rich private school where she worked cooking lunches, and told them she was going out that evening. The kitchen staff at the school had persuaded her to join them at Thabiso’s Tavern and she thought it might be good for her. Ntombi had helped her choose an outfit: a nice denim skirt, just below the knee, a tight black wraparound top with a white denim jacket. And to top it off, some gold earrings. Mama looked great. She had kissed her mother goodbye and wished her luck. Little did she guess that that night her mother would meet Zakes and their lives would be turned upside down again.
Ntombi knew the first time she saw Zakes, with his gold chains and flash smile that didn’t reach his eyes, that he would bring nothing but trouble. Even his car looked like a fake. It had been resprayed and that could mean one of two things: he had been in an accident, or the car was stolen. Things felt wrong when Zakes was in the house. He seemed too big for their small couch, sitting there with his beer, interrupting their conversations with his loud voice. He loved to say things like, “Girls, you are my daughters now. Go fetch another beer for your father.”
“Do as he says,” their mother would add if they hesitated, as she cuddled closer to her new boyfriend. There was no time for Ntombi or Zinzi when Zakes was around.

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“Here.” Her mother handed Ntombi a five rand coin from her new gold bag. She smelled of some strong perfume Zakes had bought her. “Buy yourself some sweets at the shop,” she said as she rushed out, putting on lipstick as she went.
“Mama, I’m meant to be at singing practice. The competition is next week and…” But her mother was already out of the door and in the seat of Zakes’ resprayed BMW with its fluffy dice bouncing from the rearview mirror and couldn’t hear her. All she could do was watch as Zakes reversed with a squeal of tyres, and then they were gone.
Chapter 2
Ntombi looked at the five rand coin in her hand. “What does she think I can buy with five rand?” she thought. One small bag of chips at the spaza, and a small packet of sweets, which she’d have to share with Zinzi. It wouldn’t buy her what she really needed – just ten minutes of time with her mother, when they could sit down and watch TV together, or talk, like they used to.
Just then Zinzi came in. She had been playing soccer in the street and her knee was grazed and bleeding. “Where’s Mama?” she asked Ntombi.
“Guess,” said Ntombi. “It’s not that hard.”
“Zakes?”
“Where else?”
“I thought you had singing practice this evening?’ said Zinzi as she slumped on the couch and dabbed at her cut with a tissue.
“Not any more. Mama said I’ve got to stay home and look after you.”
“I can look after myself.”
“You’re twelve,” said Ntombi, fetching the Dettol from the bathroom and dabbing it on Zinzi’s cut.
“Ouch!” Zinzi complained. “Stop it. You’re hurting me

“Don’t act like a baby. You don’t want it to get worse, do you? Do you want to go to hospital with an infected cut?”
“Why are you in such a bad mood?”
“Wouldn’t you be if you were missing a chance to go to the national finals of South Africa’s Teen Voice Competition?”
“I thought the judges were only coming next week?”
“They are. But every practice is really important. Mr Masondo says that we have to work hard and make Harmony High proud. Otherwise he won’t let us compete.”
Ntombi had been chosen, along with ten others at Harmony High, to perform for a panel of talent scouts that was travelling around the country auditioning high school students for the Teen Voice singing competition. If she was chosen out of the ten students from her school then she would go on to the national finals in Jozi. The prize was R10 000 and a recording contract. Ntombi had promised herself that she would work as hard as she could, attend every practice, and go to the nationals. Sometimes she even let herself dream of winning the competition. It would change her life – she would work really hard and produce an album. She’d buy a proper house for her family, and make sure her sister finished school. With the money she could go to university and study to become…

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Just then there was the sound of girls laughing outside in the street.
“It’s the giraffes,” Zinzi said from the couch where she was watching Days on TV. She called Ntombi’s three girlfriends the giraffes because they were taller than other girls. In turn, they called Ntombi “shortie”, although she was average height. Ntombi opened the door and hugged her friends Busi, Asanda and Lettie. At least she could rely on them for support. Asanda and Lettie had also been chosen to compete in the singing competition and Ntombi could see that they were on their way to the practice. Busi was going along to watch in the hope of attracting the attention of Unathi, who was also competing. At the last practice she sat in the front row seats in the hall, blowing kisses to Unathi and holding up a big piece of paper with “I love Unathi” painted in lipstick. Unathi had just smiled and waved. Ntombi had told Busi that Unathi had a girlfriend back in Jozi, where he was from, but Busi wouldn’t listen. She didn’t want to hear.
“Come on, lazy girl,” Asanda laughed. “We’ll be late.” The practice was in the school hall, a taxi-ride away.
“I can’t go,” Ntombi told them.
“You must be joking!” Lettie said. “What’s wrong with you? I thought this was your dream?”
“Mama went out and I have to look after Zinzi.”
“You know what this means. Mr Masondo is not going to be pleased.”
“I know.” Ntombi was close to tears and her friends could see it. Mr Masondo was their singing coach and he was strict. Two missed rehearsals and you were out of the competition.
Asanda gave her a big hug. “Listen, we’ll bring you the lyrics back and help you practise. Cheer up. I’ll tell Mr Masondo that you got food poisoning.” Asanda was the queen of excuses, and with her charm the teachers always believed her.
“Thanks chommies. You’re the best.” Ntombi tried to smile bravely, but she felt terrible.
“By the way, there’s a party on Saturday at Thabiso’s Tavern. We’re going,” Busi said. “Why don’t you come? It should be fun. Unathi’s going to be there with his cousin from Jozi.”
“How many times do I have to tell you Unathi has a girlfriend?” Ntombi despaired of Busi. She really lost her head over boys and forgot who she was – the intelligent and charismatic girl who had a great future if she could just stay focused.
“He’s never mentioned her,” said Busi. “And anyway evidently his cousin is even better looking, and I’ve always wanted to go to Jozi. They say the men are hot up there.”
“You’re going to burn yourself one day,” joked Ntombi. “Just be careful.”
“Yes, Mama,” the girls laughed.

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Ntombi watched as her friends ran down the road to catch the taxi. They were laughing and chatting. She went back inside and shut the door. The girls were right to call her ‘Mama’ –that’s what she was at the moment, and she was only fifteen. It was like her mother and her had swopped roles. The other girls used to complain about their strict mothers and tell Ntombi she was lucky. But Ntombi had noticed they didn’t say that anymore, not since Zakes had arrived on the scene. And Ntombi did not want to be a mother. Not for a long time. Not until she had finished studying and definitely not with someone she didn’t love and respect!
“I’m hungry,” complained Zinzi, who was watching The Bold and the Beautiful.
Ntombi wanted to just walk away from the house. But she knew she couldn’t.
She put the last bit of mielie meal into the pot. Sometimes she loved porridge for supper. But she was getting tired of it now. Before Zakes, her mother had always made sure that there was enough food in the house for them. It was a struggle on her salary, but she would always cook them a good meal in the evening and they would sit together and chat about the day. She had been sad a lot, but then they also had good times together. They went shopping in town on Saturday at the end of the month when her mother would give them each pocket money to spend. Now she didn’t have time for them any more. Ntombi had been telling her how the fridge needed to be fixed (it kept going on and off) and that the drain at the back of the house was blocked again. That’s when she really missed her dad. He would have fixed it by now. And where was Zakes when something went wrong in their house – out selling cars?
She served the pap onto plates. “Careful, it’s hot,” she warned.