Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Hlelolenkosi Hlophe

Today I was going to see uNosinathi. My chest tightened the whole ride from Alex, the taxi's loud music and small talk doing nothing to drown out the ache in my heart. Every time I walked into Kgosi Mampuru, it felt like a piece of me broke all over again.

He'd been sentenced to fifteen years. Fifteen. And he'd only be eligible for parole after half. Sometimes I wished it was me inside instead of him. He didn't deserve this life.

When I got off the taxi, I wrapped my scarf tighter and made my way to the big grey gates. Same routine as always—search, pat-down, hand over the things I'd brought for him. Today it was toiletries, some roll-on, Vaseline, and a few snacks because my brother had a sweet tooth that hadn't gone anywhere.

But I chuckled to myself, remembering the time I brought him Cadbury slabs. Yoh, those guards had helped themselves. I only found out later when he called me using some borrowed phone and asked, "Hlelo, where are my chocolates?" I swore I'd packed them, and that's when it clicked—the guards had eaten them. Can you imagine? I just laughed alone. Welcome to South Africa, shame. This country is a whole movie.

Finally, I was allowed through. I walked into the visiting area, my heart beating fast. Then I saw him—my brother, my bhuti, my protector. He walked in, shoulders squared like he didn't want me to see his pain. But I noticed it immediately: the bandage wrapped around his hand.

I swallowed hard, blinking away tears.
"Bhuti… what happened to your hand?" I asked, voice shaking.

He smiled faintly, trying to brush it off.
"Don't worry about this, Hlelo. It's nothing."

I frowned. "Nothing? You're sitting there with your hand wrapped up, and you want me to believe it's nothing?"

He leaned forward, his eyes softer now. "I don't want you stressing, ngwanasadi. You've got enough on your plate. Focus on school. Don't worry about me—I'll be fine."

I shook my head, tears slipping down my cheeks. "I just… I can't stand seeing you like this, bhuti. I feel so helpless. You're in here and I'm out there, and it's like I can't do anything for you."

He reached across the table, slipping his good hand over mine. His touch was warm, grounding.
"You're already doing everything for me," he said firmly. "Every visit, every snack, every prayer you send my way—it keeps me alive in here. Don't ever think you're not enough. Hlelo, you're my reason to keep going."

I bit my lip to keep from sobbing, then forced a smile. "You always know how to make me cry."

He grinned, that cheeky Nkosinathi grin I'd missed so much. "Of course. It's my job. Besides, you're way too serious nowadays. Remember when Mama used to say I was the clown of the house?"

I laughed through my tears. "You still are, bhuti. Nothing's changed."

For a moment, we let ourselves imagine a different life. A life where he was free, where we were sitting at home eating Mama's cooking instead of stale prison food. We spoke about the future, about him meeting my future partner, about me becoming a nurse and moving us into a real home. He teased me about dating.

"Eish, Hlelo," he said, laughing, "knowing you, you'll probably fall for some broke guy with swag. Just make sure he respects you. That's all I want."

"Don't worry, bhuti," I said, giggling. "I'll find a man who can handle me. Maybe even one with tattoos like yours."

We laughed together, loud enough that the guard at the corner gave us a side-eye. For a little while, it felt like we weren't separated by bars and uniforms. For a little while, we were just brother and sister again.

But deep down, I knew the moment the visit ended, the ache would return. And this time, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was shifting in the air—something I couldn't quite name.