Authors: Lily Herne
I flipped through to my favourite story.
Name: Levi Sole
Occupation: Schoolchild
Age: 14
Nationality: Malawian
NOTE: Levi was questioned three months after he and his father were relocated to the Cape Town city enclave. His story begins after they were rescued from the informal settlement fires that raged through the city two days after the dead started rising. After the fire started, we escaped to the big soccer stadium. All around us the city burned; even the mountain was on fire. The smoke was so thick in the air that many of us were struggling to breathe. And the air was hot, like it was the middle of summer. But the heavy smoke meant that we did not have to see the horrible things on the roads. I mean, I was trying to be brave. I was too old to be scared, but I was glad for the smoke. Already I had seen my neighbour struck down, her stomach spilling from between her fingers, and then, as she stood up again, her eyes rolled back in her head as if she was mad. And with her guts outside her body, she walked away. Impossible things were happening.
When we arrived at the stadium my father and I spent many hours looking around for my brother, but he had been taken away on one of the other buses, and we could not find him.
We never found him.
There were so many of us! Most, like me, came from Khayelitsha; others from all over Cape Town. There were white people, black people, coloured people, refugees like us from Zimbabwe, the DRC and Malawi, rich tourists who had come out here for the World Cup soccer, old people, children, babies (some without mothers), sick people and the dying. We stayed there for three weeks, fighting off the Dead Ones who managed to break in. Many of us died. But the Dead Ones weren’t our only problem. We had very little food and water, and the smell of the toilets was terrible. It was bad, and many got sick. And then, just when we thought we would starve to death, just when some were saying that they would kill themselves, the first of the Guardians came to us. We didn’t know what to think of them at first. Whether to trust them or not. We knew, in our hearts, that they were not people like us, but they did not try to kill us like the Dead Ones. They wore robes like priests and did not speak to us. But they brought us food. There were many fights at first over the food, but those who caused trouble were taken away quickly. At first people called them the Shepherds, as they would guard us from the Dead Ones, as if we were sheep. But then people started to call them the Guardians.
Then we were moved out of the city, and the stadium was destroyed. Some were taken far away, to the agricultural enclaves, but me and my father, we were brought to what was to become the city enclave. At first we did not recognise where we were. The ground was black and burned, the buildings and many of the trees were gone. Then we realised! We were back in Khayelitsha! The first thing we did was try to find our old house, but nothing was the same.
At first life was like being back in the refugee camps, like the one my father and I came to when we left Malawi for the first time, and where we were sent for a short time in Messina. We all had to camp together in these very large army tents and those who were not injured were sent to work. I was sent to work building the fence – which was small at first, not like it is today. After all this time, I do not know if the fence was created to keep us in, or to keep the dead out. But either way, I was helping to build a prison, of that I am sure.
Some say it is aliens that made the dead wake up. Or maybe it was an angry god or demons. Just like some say that it is God who sent the Guardians to save us. Like I have said, I have seen many terrible things during this time and life will never be as it was. You see –
My door creaked open, and I quickly shoved the book under my pillow.
‘Are you awake, Leletia?’ The Mantis entered the room.
‘Yeah,’ I said.
‘Were you reading something?’ she asked. She never missed a trick.
‘Just history homework,’ I said.
‘I see. And why would you want to hide that?’
Crap. I had to think fast. ‘I thought you’d be angry if you saw I was still awake?’
‘But it’s still early. And you didn’t eat supper.’
‘Not hungry.’
‘Everything okay at school?’
‘Fine.’
She was looking slightly antsy about something, which wasn’t like her at all. ‘The embassy is showing a film tomorrow evening,’ she said. ‘I thought it would be nice if all of us went together.’
What she meant was that it would look weird if I didn’t show my face – I knew she wanted everyone to think we were some sort of happy family.
‘Okay,’ I said. The thought of seeing a movie again was too much of a temptation to resist.
‘Wonderful!’ she smiled at me. She didn’t look like such a bitch when she smiled.
‘Is that it?’ I asked.
‘Leletia, it would mean so much to your father if we could just get along.’
‘Okay,’ I said, remembering Thabo’s advice from earlier in the day to ‘play their game’. ‘That’s fine by me.’
The look of shocked surprise on her face almost made the lie worth it. But now there was something else on my mind. The thought of Thabo had made my stomach do that swooping thing. I remembered the feel of his breath on my cheek and his cute lopsided grin. And sometimes, I wasn’t absolutely sure, but sometimes I thought I could sense him looking at me.
‘Cleo? Can I ask you a question?’
‘Sure.’
This was embarrassing. ‘How do you know if someone likes you?’
‘What do you mean, Lele? You mean, like a boy?’
‘Or a girl.’
She started slightly, but her smile didn’t slip. ‘I think the question you should ask yourself is if
you
like . . . this person,’ she said. She touched the area just below her ribs. ‘You feel it here. Your stomach dances, and if it lasts for more than a week, then you could have something special.’
‘Okaaaay,’ I said. ‘But what if he – or she – likes you. How can you tell?’
‘You can see it in their eyes. They flicker. Like a light going on.’ The Mantis’s voice had become almost dreamy, and for a couple of seconds I thought I could actually see what it was Dad saw in her.
‘Is that how you felt when you met Dad?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
‘Thanks,’ I said, faking a yawn. There was no way we were going to get all pally-pally suddenly. She could forget that idea. ‘I should get some sleep.’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Good night, Leletia – Lele.’
She crept out, closing the door softly behind her. As soon as she was gone I pulled the book out from underneath the pillow and turned back to the page I had been reading. One day, I thought, I’d like to meet the guy who wrote this story. Go up to him and say, thanks. Thanks for being honest and not messing with the truth.
I had a lot to think about on the walk to school the next day, although if I’m honest I mostly thought about Thabo. I tried to convince myself that there was no way he’d ever look at me in that way, not when he could have his pick of the girls in class, but there was still a tiny kernel of hope that refused to die.
I was so lost in my daydreams that I almost walked straight past the crowd that had gathered around the gate. Acid Face Pelosi and several of the older students were speaking in low voices, tutting and shaking their heads. Then I saw it.
The words
ANZ: Red not Dead
had been spray-painted over the Malema High sign, the red letters completely obscuring the
breath of fresh air
motto.
Acid Face Pelosi caught sight of me. ‘Don’t dawdle, Leletia. Get inside!’
I secretly gave her the finger as she turned her back on me.
Once inside, I headed towards the sun sculpture. I could make out a thatch of dreadlocks above the heads of the students crowded around it. Thabo would know what was going on. But, as usual, he was surrounded by a bunch of girls, and I couldn’t summon up the nerve to approach him.
I wandered over to Zit Face instead. ‘What’s happening?’ I asked him.
He shrugged and pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘What do you think? The ANZ are up to their old tricks again.’
I nodded as if I knew what he was talking about, but at that stage I hadn’t even heard of the ANZ, let alone any of the tricks they got up to.
Acid Face Pelosi and Comrade Xhati strode towards us, serious expressions on their faces. ‘School will begin ten minutes later today,’ Acid Face Pelosi said. ‘There will be no morning prayers.’
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face and Acid Face Pelosi scowled. ‘No need to look so pleased with yourself, Leletia,’ she snapped as the two of them stalked off towards the office.
‘Farm Girl probably did it,’ a familiar voice said behind me.
I whirled around. ‘What was that?’ I asked Zyed. ‘What did you just call me?’
‘Farm Girl,’ Zyed said. ‘Baaaaa.’
But I wasn’t going to let Zyed get away with dissing me again. ‘Get lost, Zyed. Go and pluck some feathers or something.’
Zyed smiled at me. A nasty, cold smile. ‘At least I don’t look as if I just fell off a vegetable wagon.’
‘No. You look like you just lost a fight with a flock of guineafowl.’
Several of the kids around us laughed, and Zyed’s smile slipped from his face. ‘Why don’t you go back to where you came from, Farm Girl?’
‘Farm Girl? Is that the best you can do? That’s really original.’
Zyed whispered something to Nyameka and Summer, who responded with their usual giggling fit.
‘Oh, I see how it is,’ I said, aware that part of me was now actually enjoying this. My heart was thumping in my chest, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. ‘You don’t have the guts to say what you’ve got to say to my face.’
My voice was getting louder and I began to realise that the pack of kids around us had stopped chattering and laughing.
‘Why would I bother wasting my breath on someone like you?’ Zyed said.
‘You tell me, Zyed. You’re the one that seems to have a problem with me. What did I ever do to you?’
He shook his head in disgust. ‘You’re not even a believer,’ he said. ‘You don’t belong here.’
‘I don’t
want
to belong here,’ I said. ‘You call me Farm Girl, but you lot are the sheep.’ I jumped in again before Zyed had a chance to speak. ‘And in this school, I see that even the bitches run in packs. All three of them.’
He flinched. ‘What that supposed to mean?’
‘You know what I mean, Zyed.’
Summer and Nyameka looked slightly confused – my crack had obviously gone right over their heads – but Zyed knew what I meant. The thing was, I’d already sussed him out. It wasn’t the feathers. It wasn’t the hair. It was the way his eyes followed Thabo whenever he was around. That’s the thing about being an outsider: you notice things others don’t see.
It didn’t take him long to regain his composure, though. He flicked his hair and smiled that cruel smile. ‘You really want to know what I was saying about you?’
‘If you’ve got the guts to repeat it.’
‘I was just saying, it must run in the family.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Do I need to spell it out for you, Farm Girl? I heard your brother’s one of those freaky reject kids. Being a retard must be in the genes.’
The bolt of fury that jolted through me almost took my breath away; the mention of Jobe tipping me over the edge. Before I was even aware of what I was doing, I’d grabbed Zyed by the lapels of his jacket, and shoved him back against the sculpture. He was taller than me, but he was no match for the rage that surged through my veins. ‘You are so going to regret saying that,’ I yelled at him.
I raised my fist, planning to punch Zyed on the nose, but someone caught hold of my arm, and I felt myself being dragged backwards. ‘You don’t want to do that,’ a voice hissed in my ear. I struggled free and swung around. It was Thabo.
Zyed was smoothing the front of his jacket, and I felt a surge of triumph at his shocked expression. Summer and Nyameka looked equally traumatised.
‘Come on!’ Thabo said, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the gate.
‘Huh?’
‘We’re getting out of here.’
He dropped my arm and strode off. Zyed shot me a hate-filled glance as he and his clan started heading towards the office.
Thabo paused and turned around. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘You coming or not?’
This time I didn’t hesitate.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked Thabo, struggling to keep up with his long strides.
‘Away from this place.’
‘Won’t we get into trouble?’
‘Yeah,’ he said with a grin. ‘By the way, nice moves back there, Ninja Girl. You’re way stronger than you look.’
‘What’s a ninja?’ I asked.
He chuckled. ‘You got anything to eat?’
‘Yeah,’ I dug in my bag and handed him a roti.
‘Thanks, hey!’ he said, ripping into it. ‘This is good. Your mom make it?’
‘My mom’s dead.’
‘Snap.’
He ducked behind a stall selling Resurrectionist amulets and I followed him through a narrow covered alleyway that reeked of drains and stale cooking. It led straight into a partially tarred square, ringed with half-constructed buildings. A couple of workmen glanced at us curiously, but most of them ignored us.
‘Down here,’ Thabo said, leading me down another foul-smelling alleyway.
We emerged into a familiar thoroughfare, one of the busy market streets I’d explored on one of my journeys home. The market was doing a roaring trade, but then the crowd cleared and I caught sight of two robed Resurrectionists handing out pamphlets.
Thabo grinned at me. ‘Watch this.’
He raced up behind one of the Resurrectionists and pulled the hood down off his head, revealing long hair and a bright pink face. ‘Hey!’ the Resurrectionist shouted.
Thabo grabbed his pamphlets, threw them up into the air and, with another cheeky glance at me, set off running. Hardly able to believe what I’d just seen I raced after him.
He ducked into a narrow street and I hared after him. But I couldn’t see him anywhere. He’d disappeared.