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He was speaking Tswana, that meant that something was wrong. She gradually walks backwards then turns to walk back the way they came. When she reaches him he carries on speaking Tswana. She pretends that she understands by nodding and shaking her head, assuming that he’s casually asking her a series of questions.

She adds “Wari ingi?” and a “Hayi” having mastered their pronunciation, it seems like a good time to use them, from the very little of the language that she possessed.

He says something and laughs heartily forcing her to produce a strong fake laugh. While laughing she shakes her head for effect and takes the chance to look around and gauge the situation. Standing behind her is a large dark man wearing a fisherman’s hat, a matchstick sticking out the side of his mouth looking at her. The whites of his eyes have gone brown from the abuse of some substance or other. Wide nostrils flaring as he breathes. A voice booms out his mouth revealing a missing front tooth. “ Usheba ingi?” the malice is unmistakable. A hand enters hers and takes her into the street. She locks her fingers and tightens her grip around Thami’s hand. Surging through the crowd. Eventually and with great personal effort Thami loosens his hand and tells her to relax. She makes to look behind her and Thami tells her not to. The sight of the man’s black leather jacket imposes itself on her vision and she listens to Thami’s calm voice telling her to relax. She lets go of his hand and carries on walking, she stops herself from running but keeps in mind to walk with purpose. As they make their way through town it becomes easier for her to breathe and allow the panic to pass her by. When they get to Sammy Marks Square Thami asks her if she’s hungry to which she nods her head. He purchases two pies and juice boxes and heads for a bench.

“ So you have a choice between apple and grape juice.”

She shrugs and he gives her the grape juice.

“Spinach and feta or steak and kidney... I’m assuming the glower means that there’s no way in hell you’re eating steak and kidney. It’s a common reaction. I don’t mind, just means that I have no worries of anyone wanting to take a bite of mine really.”

Hands her a pie and a few serviettes. He unwraps the straw, pokes a hole in the juice box and takes a sip of his. He then unwraps his pie and takes a gigantic bite leaving under three quarters of the pie in hand. Messing crumbs all over his face and lap doesn’t seem to faze him at all. While chewing he takes another sip of his juice. Nthabiseng suppresses the urge to tell him how disgusting that is. She watches him eat without saying a word. After his final bite and sip she finally speaks.

“What was that?”

He looks at her ,then watches a man walking past them. Wearing a suit, he searches its pockets furiously completely oblivious to all else around him, speaking in hushed tones. Thami wipes his mouth off, uncaps the camera lens, focuses according to the man’s step and snaps a few shots. He waits for the man to walk further on into the distance and times the shot for when he passes the beggar on the corner. Clicking, he feels a punch to the shoulder.

“Are you going to speak!” Nthabiseng barks at him. The punch is a surprise and painfully unexpected.

“Ouch! That actually almost hurt!” he exclaims. Annoyed, “ Thank you I missed that last shot.”

“Talk.” She demands.

“ It’s not a big deal. I just saw a few dudes whistling across the road from each other.”

“ So what? It’s town, we were by a taxi rank everybody whistles at each other.”

“Yeah but when you have two dudes signaling each other towards the direction of the two people who obviously aren’t a part of the hustle you kinda have to roll with the whole prevention is better than cure theory.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“ And you know what? It just might be. But hey, I had two responsibilities you and my camera.” quickly adding “ Not trying to patronize or insinuate that you can’t take care of yourself, but the reality is that we didn’t fit in there. You obviously more than me. But ja shit happens all the time. Let’s stop trying to play hardcore and just admit that the end of the day we’re just some spoilt kids from the burbs with too much time on our hands.”

“Fuck you! That’s not why I’m here!”

“Oh? Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because I want to stop living in a dream world whereby I completely close myself off to other peoples realities. I don’t want to be ignorant to the social and economic gap between me and the people of the lower class income bracket.”

“The people of the lower class income bracket?” He speaks slowly and thinks about each word he says, “Do you mean the poor?”

“You’re so full of shit!”

“No I’m not. I’m just trying to find out exactly why you wanted to go to Marabastad of all places… think about it you knew that something shady was going on, which made it very easy for you to pick out exactly who was plotting to do you harm…”

“What?”

“The dude standing behind us with the matchstick sticking out of his mouth. Why did you think he was coming after you?”

“Well he was…”

“What? Behind you and suited the profile of what a bad guy would look like right? Yet when I told you about the guys whistling and signaling each other towards our direction I was being paranoid… it all comes down to being aware. Walking around with your eyes closed isn’t going to help you shit coming down here. We already looked out of place walking around with a camera, it almost seemed like that was the look you were going for. Which is fine of course as long as you have your wits about you.”

“So I panicked! But that was only because you made it seem like there was an emanate threat about!”

“Well there could have been, but I guess I get what you’re getting at. Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Anyway none of that takes away from why I’m here!”

“And why are you down here?”

“Stop patronising me!”

“I’m fully interested and you know it!”

She looks at him for a couple of seconds then looks away and takes a small bite of her pie. Chewing softly and taking in her surroundings. She looks at the row of trees behind her on a linear grassy walkway with patches of sand in it. Next to it a huge cubic building built for theatre.

“Could you stop staring at me it really is getting fucking annoying.”

“Sorry.”

Is his quiet response. He looks downs and shifts his feet on the concrete. She feels a bit bad for having snapped, but leaves it at that. Taking a sip of the grape juice she savors the sweet tasting purple liquid, gently lubricating he throat. She bites down on the straw and without unclenching her teeth utters

“I’m trying to educate myself okay.”

He furrows his brow, looks up and straight ahead. Doesn’t speak.

“ I just feel guilty about so much shit okay. Like I get to have parents who can like afford to put me up for everything I want. I’ve never gone hungry a day in my entire life…”

Interrupting her, “So what does that have to do with you coming down here? You could see South African poverty on T.V if you wanted to.”

“You know exactly what I’m getting at. I feel as if I’ve embraced one side of my heritage way more than the other.”

“Now you’re just reaching.”

“ Jesus! I just don’t want to live I in a bubble if that’s okay with you! I never got it when I would hear that we’re a third world country, cause I don’t live in the third world! But I’m just trying to open my eyes to the fact that other people can’t afford that luxury!”

Thami speaks slowly as if being careful to make sure she hears every word he says to her.

“ Okay… don’t take this the wrong way or anything but what good does opening your eyes and seeing the reality that people live in everyday do? Again we’re just suburban kids with too much time on our hands. After this we’re going to catch a taxi back to my car and go on home. This is like a trip to the zoo for us. The people there in Marabastad are going to have to find sheets of plastic to blanket themselves for the night. When I order in tonight and you go to one of your friends braai’s or dinner parties, they’re going to be waiting there for the local butchers to drop off all the meat that’s gone off so that they can fill their stomachs.”

The face Nthabiseng pulls has a mixture of shock and disgust. He continues looking straight ahead of him, then draws his camera to his eye takes his time and clicks the contraption twice. Without looking at her he flatly states “That’s their reality.” He gets up and starts walking. She watches him then follows and throws her pie in the dustbin.