uGULUVA Chapter 7

PHINDILE GWALA.

I swear, my sister is a weapon forged just to ruin my life. I told her only a few hours ago that I finally found a job, and now she’s breathing down my neck like I personally swore I’d never buy Ma’s medication. Her message flashes on my phone again, daring me to respond, but I just… ignore it.

Then another one pops up: “Your shift begins at 14:00 pm.” Zinhle. I glance at the clock: 11:30 am.

My body aches, heavy and stiff from yesterday’s long shift. I only got home close to the wee hours, exhausted, but Ncanezwe keeps replaying in my head… until Nobantu rudely shatters the memory with her message about Ma’s pills.

I rub my eyes and swing my legs off the bed, dragging my tired body upright. Thoughts of Ma gnaw at me—her sighs, her worried eyes, the way she doesn’t sleep until she knows we’re safe. I love her, but some days it feels like I’m carrying the weight of the world alone.

Scrolling through Nobantu’s message again, the little guilt-laden words tighten my chest:

“I hope you’re still going to send the money. Your mother needs her medication… unless you want her to die.”

I hate that she’s right. I hate even more that I can’t snap my fingers and fix everything.

A groan escapes me as I kneel and mutter my daily prayer, shoulders slumping under the weight of it all. By the time I’m out the door, the early morning chill is lifting under the sun, leaving me feeling exposed and restless. My mind drifts back to yesterday—Ncanezwe, the aura, the thrill of being needed somewhere beyond these walls. And then Nobantu’s voice of reason cuts through, reminding me that real life isn’t a fantasy.

I grab my phone and open the Uber app, setting my destination to the job.

Fingers hovering over the “Request” button, I hesitate, just long enough to take a deep breath and brace myself for the day. Ping!

Before I can tap, my phone rings. The caller ID says Nobantu. I swipe to answer, my chest tightening.

“Phindile…” her voice is sharp, but not angry. Just… expectant.

“Hey,” I mutter, trying to keep my tone neutral. “What’s up?”

“I just… wanted to check if you’re serious about sending money for Ma’s medication this time.” There’s a pause, heavy with judgment, but also a faint hint of worry I can’t ignore.

“I’m going to, Nobantu. I promise. After work.” My words sound weaker than I intend, but she doesn’t argue.

“You better. You know what’s at stake.” Her tone softens just a little. “I know things have been… hectic. But she needs you too.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me.

“I know. I’ll sort it. I always do.”

“Good. Just… don’t make me come to Jo’burg and shake some sense into you.” She chuckles softly, and for the briefest moment, the weight on my chest feels lighter.

I hang up, heart still tight but my steps a little surer. The Uber arrives, and I slide into the seat, letting the city hum around me. As we pull away, I press my forehead to the window, staring at the blur of streets. Work, Ma, Nobantu, Ncanezwe… my life feels like a juggling act where all the balls are heavy.

But today, I tell myself, I’ll make it. I always do.

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