This drive is exactly how I visioned it. Long, dreadful and draped in tension.
I’m suddenly not sure if I was fair on insisting on it.
It gets quiet in the car when we turn on the sign written Mbuba. I know we are near. Nkosana is driving, he is apparently the only one who remembers the way.
I am sitting on the back seat with Mvelo on my lap, he’s been asleep almost all the way. Lwandle has gotten tired of asking where we are going without getting an answer. Sbani has an idea, but he doesn’t know the extent of damage this trip could have on his fathers. Ntsika doesn’t remember anything about Mbuba, but he was told the truth about why he doesn’t have parents when he grew up and started asking.