Page 51 - The Mending Season

make inroads with the neighbours by showing that not only were they sending me to a school in town - that is, a “good” school - but they were also capable ofdoing the sort ofthings the neighbours did. Mmamane Malesedi came reluctantly, grumbling that “baking cakes and cookies could work just as well”.I took out the Bible I kept under my bed. Mmamane Malebone looked at it in shock and asked, “Where did you get that? School?”I nodded.“They just gave them to you?” She put her hands on her hips. “Malesedi!”M y mind raced. I could not tell them that it had been a gift from two young White men who had come to our street once, asking if our family had “accepted Jesus Christ as our personal saviour”. I had liked them. No White people had been to our house before or since. They seemed very nice and sincere, even though I hardly understood a word they said. I spoke to them at the gate and asked for a Bible to make them feel like I had appreciated their visit (I knew people who swore at them and ran them out of their yards), and also to have something of theirs. When one of them spoke in Setswana, I almost dropped to the stony ground. It was like something out of a dream. I asked them more questions to keep them there longer, hoping that Mma Motsei would see us, but it was a weekday and she had been at work.When Mmamane Malesedi appeared in the doorway to take a look at my Bible, I looked up at Mmamane Malebone and said quickly, “I borrowed it from Veronica, for Religious Studies homework.”They both stood there looking at me suspiciously because they could sense that I was lying. I turned around and fixed my hair. Ifthey had heard about the two young White men - each called “Elder” something - they would not be happy with51