It’s ridiculous that they have this hinja as a pet. They’re the laughingstock of the township, at least of those who aren’t terrified of the dog. Who gives meat to a dog when they can’t even afford meat for themselves? Still, Leleti loves the black beast and won’t hear a word against it, claiming it’s twice as loyal as any person she’s ever known.

Leleti herself doesn’t have anything to eat. She claims she’ll have the children’s leftovers when she’s at her job as a maid in Rustenburg more than sixty kilometers away. She has to be in the kitchen at 7:00 a.m. on weekdays so she can make the children’s breakfast before they leave for school. It means she has to wake up at 4:00 a.m. ahead of a long commute. Her madam has repeatedly warned Leleti that if she comes in late, they’ll hire a maid who’s prepared to live on the property and is more accessible to them. With today being a Sunday, Leleti can leave two hours later.

“Have you gotten Wednesday off to vote?” Zodwa asks to break the silence.

Leleti shakes her head.

“It’s an important day for our people and you should—”

“You think I don’t know that?” Leleti shoots back. “You think that it’s for fun that I do this job that you’re too good for?”

“I’ve never said I’m too good for it—”

“I’m telling you that you’re too good to be a maid. And don’t tell me how important Wednesday is! It’s the day I’ve been waiting my whole life for, but food is also important. Money is important. Who do you think brings that home?” Leleti shakes her head and then starts coughing, the outburst setting her off.

Zodwa hands her mother a handkerchief. As Leleti coughs into it, each racking spasm rocking her whole body, Zodwa looks away so that she doesn’t have to see the blood splatter darkening the fabric. She wonders how Leleti has managed to hide her sickness from her madam for this long. How much longer will she be able to do so?

The fit finally passes and the pacing dog settles down. When Leleti resumes speaking, her tone has lost all of its bite. “The hopes I had for you, my child. The hopes we all had for you. After your brother . . .” She trails off.

Leleti doesn’t need to finish the sentence; Zodwa knows exactly what her mother is thinking.

When Dumisa left for Johannesburg more than a decade before, his future looked about as bright as a black man’s possibly could during apartheid. He’d completed his last year of schooling in KwaZulu with top marks and secured a position as a junior administrator at Baragwanath Hospital in Soweto. The family rejoiced at the news.