Oyama: Her Story

CHAPTER 39

I use the gate and run around the field and reach the boys where Lebohang lays flat on the floor eyes open but in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Shoulder dislocation” answers the medic spraying Ice Cold on his shoulder.
“Just pop it into place” says Lebohang, “So I can finish the game there’s 20 minutes left”
“NO” me and the medic say.
“Why not?” asks Thapelo.
The medic looks back like, ‘Is this Person stupid?’
“Because, right now, it can be a simple dislocation, which can be popped into place, and a few weeks of rest and he’s back, we pop it back into its socket and he takes another hit, he’s out for the season” I say.
“Thank you” says the Medic, “Hey are you a doctor?”
I nod.
“Nice” he smiles.
“Aow voetsek wena” says Mzi looking down on the Medic and gently shoves him with his leg, “Why amazinyo ephumile?”(Why are your teeth out)
OH JIZAS, the Drama.
“Listen Lebo, its 20 minutes, I’m sure they can handle the rest” I say.
He looks around at his brothers, then me.
Please don’t throw away your season for 20 minutes.
“Someone take the armband off me” says Lebohang.
Qhawe takes it off his arm and they help him stand up.
“BARRETT!” he shouts, the number 14 runs towards us, he takes the arm band.
Lebohang doesn’t say a word, but the message is clear: You’ve got this. Barrett nods, pulling the armband tightly onto his bicep, determination etched into every line of his face.
“I’ll finish this for you,” he says.
“Make it count,” Lebohang replies, wincing slightly as Qhawe and Thapelo steady him.
I can see the mixture of emotions on his face—pride in his team, frustration at being pulled out, and the weight of the decision he’s had to make. His chest rises and falls heavily as he watches Barrett jog back onto the field, rallying the boys.

“Lets go” says his father.
“Cha tata, I’m going out like a player” he says, “I’ll meet yall at the stands.”
He starts running on the field and a call for a substitution to be done. He’s patting his chest and points to the sky. The crowd claps as he jogs off the field and cheers for him, to get better.
We all rush to the barricades, he’s talking to the coach who gives him a hug and smacks his butt sending him off.
“Lets wish the Captain a speedy recovery, seems like he’s dislocated his shoulder in that last tackle” says the Commentator, “Kodwa siyabonga Kolobe, usiholile kwaze kwaba sekugcineni” The crowd claps for him.
He runs down the barricades and stops, “What’s he doing?” asks his father.
I shrug, he’s calling for someone to come down from the stands.
“Who’s he calling?” Thapelo frowns, craning his neck to see.
“I don’t know,” I say, squinting at the bleachers.
Then I see her.
“Wait... Is she... white?” Mogale blurts, his voice louder than intended. The entire family turns to stare, processing the sight of the girl heading toward Lebohang, looking completely out of place amidst the sea of St. Stithians supporters.
“Who’s that?” their father asks, his voice sharp with confusion. 
She’s coming down and hugs him tightly, he helps her climb over the fence and hugs her with his one good arm.
“Who’s that?” asks his father again.
“Well…that’s… uhm Isabella” I say, “She’s his you know…friend”
“Friend?” Thapelo repeats, eyebrows raised, “She doesn’t look like just a friend.”
“She’s his girlfriend,” I say.
“WHAT?” Qhawe and Mogale shout in unison.
“Shh! You’re embarrassing the poor girl,” I hiss, but it’s too late.
Everyone’s eyes are glued to Isabella, who now stands at the edge of the field, nervously pushing her sunglasses up onto her head.

The entire stadium seems to hold its breath as the two of them look at each other. Isabella takes a hesitant step forward, her lips parting in concern.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd.
Lebohang grins, despite the pain, and nods.
“I’m fine.”
Then, to everyone’s shock, he leans in and kisses her on the cheek. The stands erupt—not with cheers this time, but with gasps, murmurs, and scattered laughter.
“Oh my days,” Qhawe says, his jaw practically hitting the ground.
“Did Lebo just—”
“Yep,” I say.
“YAY WENA!” shouts Thapelo, pointing a dramatic finger at Lebohang, “A re tsamaye”(Lets go)
“I’ll call you and tell you what hospital we at” he kisses her again and starts jogging towards us. He heads into the gate and into the tunnel he runs and goes into the changing rooms, Qhawe and Mogale walk in with him and come out with his school bag and his training bag with his cleats off and into some comfy slides.
“Ah mfana kgane otswere stocko sa lekgoa”(Bro you have a white girlfriend) says Mzi, he would definitely be the first to say something.
All the boys start laughing, I’m guessing their mom wasn’t there to see any of it.
“What hospital are we going to?” he asks.
“Mediclinic, up the road” I say.