When 15-year-old Melokuhle Nanayemhle Bhengu meets charming and confident Ntsikayomuzi Ntando Nkosi at school, their worlds collide in unexpected ways. As they navigate love, friendship, and family expectations in the vibrant township of KwaNobuhle...
I woke up early on the morning of the memorial service, feeling a heavy weight in my chest. As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but think about Mgani and how much I missed her. I felt a lump form in my throat, and before I knew it, tears began to stream down my face.
I sat up in bed and wiped my tears with the back of my hand. Olivia stirred awake. "Melo, are you okay?" she asked, her voice groggy with sleep.
I nodded, trying to hold back my tears. But it was no use. I began to sob, and just then Mpumi got in the room and came over to comfort me. Olivia wrapped her arms around me, holding me tightly as I cried.
After a few minutes, I managed to calm down. Olivia and Mpumi helped me get out of bed, and we headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. As we entered the bathroom, I saw that Smelo was already in the shower. I decided to take a bath instead, filling the tub with warm water and soaking in it for a few minutes. Olivia and Mpumi went to use other bathrooms.
As I bathed, I couldn't help but think about Mgani. I remembered the way she used to smile, the way she used to laugh, and the way she used to make me feel like I was the most important person in the world.
After my bath, I got dressed in the outfit that I had laid out - a turtleneck sweater tucked in a front slit black leather skirt and added with knee high brown leather heel boots. Olivia and Mpumi were already dressed so Smelo and I helped each other with our hair and makeup.
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Just as we were finishing up, there was a knock at the door. "Girls, get ready!" my aunt called out. "We're leaving for the church in 15 minutes!"
We quickly grabbed our things and headed to the living room where everyone was. The house was bustling with activity, with everyone rushing to get ready to leave.
My mom was in the kitchen, making sure everyone had something to eat before we left. She handed me a plate with some bread and eggs on it. "Nana, make sure you eat something before we go," she said.
I nodded, taking a bite of the bread. It was dry and tasteless, but I knew I needed to eat something.
As we finished up, my dad called out that it was time to leave. We all filed out of the house and into the cars, which were parked outside.
The drive to the church was quiet, with everyone lost in their own thoughts. I stared out the window, watching as the houses and buildings passed by.
When we arrived at the church, I could see that it was already filling up with people. I felt a pang of sadness, knowing that we were all gathered here to say goodbye to Mgani.
We got out of the car and joined the crowd of people milling around outside the church. I saw many familiar faces, all of whom came up to hug us and offer their condolences.
As we made our way inside, I couldn't help but feel a sense of overwhelm. The church was packed, and the air was thick with grief.
We made our way to the front pew, where we would be sitting during the service. I looked around, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of the church.
