Still Ruth lingers in the doorway until Dee hoots for her, shouting that they’re going to be late for their event. Mandla is curled up in Zodwa’s lap as she reads to him from the illustrated Zulu alphabet book she made him for Christmas. He doesn’t even look up at Ruth’s departure although she’s theatrically blowing him kisses.

After Ruth finally leaves, Zodwa goes back to the book, teaching Mandla how to say some of the Zulu words while telling him stories of their people that her gogo had once told her. Her son, usually so serious, laughs and laughs when she shows him the Umzansi Dance, stamping his foot repeatedly in imitation of her now that he’s feeling better.

“Again!” he calls. “Again, Dwa.”

There are so many Zulu rituals Mandla will miss out on. He never had the imbeleko ceremony to introduce him to the ancestors and to ask for his protection after he was born. He will never attend an Umhlanga, or Reed Dance ceremony, nor will he hear the tales of the amadlozi, or slaughter a goat or chicken in their honor.

The whites have their own rituals and ceremonies but Mandla will be breaking with hundreds of years of tradition if he grows up with them. Zodwa wants to give him something of his true self to cling to, something that can never be taken away from him.

Once he falls asleep next to her, one hand clutching her leg, she lifts him up and takes him to his room as Jezebel pads behind them, claws ticking on the floor. Zodwa lays Mandla down in his cot and then leaves the two of them in there together before going outside to the patio to cool down.

It would have been Leleti’s forty-ninth birthday today, but not even thinking about her mother’s passing, and the fact that she didn’t live to make this milestone, can take away from Zodwa’s happiness. What she feels is more like the memory of sadness, something worn smooth from too much use.

She also feels gratitude because it was surely Leleti who gave Zodwa this gift of a night alone with her son; it wasn’t easy for Delilah to convince Ruth to leave Mandla to attend their fund-raising function. Still, Ruth, clearly reluctant to leave him so soon after his illness, had allowed herself to be assured.

Zodwa looks down now at one of the two letters she’s taken to carrying around with her. She applied to study social work through distance learning at the University of South Africa and almost can’t believe she’s been accepted. She’ll be using the money she stashed away to pay for her registration next week when she goes to the campus to sign up. Saving money to run away with Mandla was a stupid fantasy whereas investing in her future is the better route. One her mother would approve of.