Page 80 - The Mending Season

In the township, people began to walk past our house, instead of crossing over to the other side. Once in a while, Mma Motsei even waved to us. After the visit ofthose men, no one actually came into the house, but people did start greeting us. Mmamane Malebone even stood at the fence with Mma Motsei and discussed the cabbages and tomatoes she was growing in the backyard. We were making progress. The aunts said very little about these changes, as if they had been going on for years. But I knew that they were relieved.One day in March, not long after Mandela s release, our team was on the netball court for practice, preparing to play against Williams, a school not too far from ours. Mevrou van der Westhuizen, the netball teacher, was particularly nervous that day because - Veronica speculated - Williams had excellent and strict netball coaches, and would be tough competition. Mevrou kept pacing furiously along the sidelines, screaming and warn­ ing us “for the last time”to stay focused. “Come on, girls! Move! Pass the ball! Watch the net!” She was frantic, sweating and blowing her whistle with all the air in her lungs.I was not the worlds best athlete, but in my class there were worse players than me, so the coach was planning to use me for that weeks game. Everyone was under a lot of stress. I keep reminding myselfofthat now, it helps me to keep things in perspective.This is the way I remember it: Marianne, who had limited skills as a ball player, was having trouble keeping the ball in her hands. She dropped it a little too often, frustrating the teacher. Beth, who was the best player by far, was steaming. She was like the teacher but without the whistle. She would scream, “Come on, guys! Come on!”, coughing up her “C’s” so that I thought she would have a sore throat by the end. Trish was playing very well as she did at most sports, but Veronica - although she was good too - was finding Marianne s butter­ fingers very amusing. She would laugh and clap her hands80