Page 60 - The Mending Season

t o b e a n y d i ffe r e n t . I t s e e m e d n a t u r a l t o h i m t h a t s h e w o u l d c a l l h e r mother “Mmamane”.The neighbours were more concerned with how the aunts raised Tshidiso than herfather was and,for reasons she could not always explain,Malebone was constantly trying toprove that she wasjust as normal and capable a mother as any o fthem. She would send Tshidiso to school with cheese sandwiches andfruit - the bread cut diagonally and thefru it thinly sliced and separatedfrom the bread. Tshidisos uniform was always clean and her hair neatly braided.Malesedipanicked aboutpeople's attitudes towards her niece and in turn constantly complained about Tshidisos behaviour and her manners. So when the opportunity camefor them to send her to a Whiteschool,Malesedi was thefirst toput theplan into motion.I would have flown to school if I had had wings. I was excited to start a day feeling like I now had a friend. It was nice ofthe other girls to try and make friends with me, but I found KB more intriguing. She was more like who I wanted to be. Her accent was flawless, and she seemed very sure of herself. I liked the idea of being close to her and her mysterious charmed world. I wanted to be a small part of it, to get a glimpse ofwhat it was like to live the way she did. Plus, she was one person: groups ofgirls were overwhelming.Usually Mmamane Malesedi walked faster than I did, and most of the people walking to work seemed to speed-walk past me, but on that day I had no trouble keeping up. Mmamane Malesedi asked if I had a test I had to rush to. I barely said goodbye to her when we reached school, and rushed away from her. Ahead ofme, I saw girls from my class standing and talking in a group. My eyes were searching for KB when they called me to come and stand with them.“Hi,”I said.60