Be Loved

Chapter 20

To my beloved daughter Tshegofatso

Happy 12th birthday baby girl. You are about to be a teenager. This is amazing. I hope that you are being treated well and that your birthday is special. You remember last year, I told you that I have a lawyer who might help me get out of prison. Well, we started working on things and they are turning out to be more difficult than we thought. But there is reason to have hope. I dream of the day I get to see you again and make up for all the lost time. I can't wait for that day. I can't wait. I miss you and I still love you. I won't forget you.

Love, your beloved dad.

Tshegofatso looked forward to seeing Molatlhegi. She was counting down the days left until the next visit. When she was at school, all she could think of was her father. She was living through her new normal, where a father exists in her life. She no longer had to place her grandfather into the role of father and it felt good strange. A good strange. Tshegofatso wanted to find a way of thanking the people who have taken care of her father in prison. To her, these people contributed towards her father being the good man that she is getting to know. So she bought chocolates that she will give the different prison staff that she interacts with when she arrives at the prison. Each prison staff member that she gives the gift to is grateful. Such a simple gift brought to them the greatest joy. It reminds them that their work is not in vain. Their kindness and professionalism is seen by those they serve. Tshegofatso feels a sense of pride as she gives her last chocolate to the prison warden that accompanies her to the visiting room.

"Good afternoon papa" greets Tshegofatso. Molatlhegi is caught off-guard with her calling him papa. It was the first time that this happens. Molatlhegi decides to play to cool, by not highlighting that she called him papa.

"You have a smile on your face. It's beautiful" comments Molatlhegi.

"I feel happy. I was giving the staff members chocolates as a way of thanking them for taking care of you. I don't take this for granted. The fact that I get to see you and spend time with you after so many years is a gift I did nothing to earn" reflects Tshegofatso.

"Having a heart for people is something your mom always had. Empathy is one of the highest moral values any person can have. That makes me proud as your father" encourages Molatlhegi.

"Thank you. Sometimes I feel lame for being a person that cares for others like this. It's not the popular thing to do" says Tshegofatso

"Caring for others is never lame. And if it were lame, you probably got that lameness from me. Some would say caring for others is what got me caught in the end..." adds Molatlhegi.

"How" asks Tshegofatso.

"Macburgville is really a small town, but it still had the same problems that the big cities have. Many single parents, few of them being single dads. So me being a single father of a toddler spread like wildfire in the town. I was a small-town celebrity, with people trying to meet me and see for themselves if the rumours are true"

"So I can tell people that I am a child star," says Tshegofatso, laughing at her own joke.

"Oh wow, you thought that was funny," says a sarcastic Molatlhegi

"Yes, I do. I have a good sense of humour. Right" asks Tshegofatso.

"Em, let's just say, you got that from your momma" replies a laughing Molatlhegi

"You know what? Just continue with the story"

"Ok... So where was I? Oh. I was a celebrity. They even started talking about me on the local radio. My teaching methods were bringing interesting results, so a radio profile was done about me being a good teacher. I declined to speak on the radio, as I wanted to keep a low profile. But for a while, it worked, until one of my students, Mandla Mandlingozi, killed it with his maths results in the matric finals. SABC sent a whole camera crew to Macburgville to interview him. I managed to get out of being interviewed by the reporters, but somehow in one of their shots, I appeared in the background" explains Molatlhegi.

"Is that how you were caught? Really" Tshegofatso sounded disappointed by where this story was going to end.

"My last afternoon with you was spent at the park. We shared a magnum classic on the walk back home. I noticed police vans at the school but I paid it no mind. Instead, when we got home, I started changing your nappy and prepared you for bed. Thereafter I started to make supper. Before I could start eating, I had a knock at the door. I opened the door and it was the police with your grandparents. They asked me where you were and I told them you are sleeping. The police said that I was being arrested for kidnapping you. I begged them to allow me to say goodbye to you and for them to not drag me in handcuffs in front of you. They agreed and I went to your make-shift crib, kissed you on the forehead and told you that everything was going to be alright" explains Molatlhegi

"Was that the last time you saw me" asks Tshegofatso

"Yes"

"Was it all worth it? Did you regret everything" asks Tshegofatso.

"Yes, it was. We spent close to a year together. In the back of my mind, I thought I would have been caught after one day. It was all worth it. I wanted to be your father and I wanted to be the kind of father that was present, active and one who loved you"

"But I don't remember any of these things. It feels like you risked everything for memories that would never stick in my mind" explains a regretful Tshegofatso. These stories were great for her to listen to, but they saddened her because she could not remember any of it.

"I think this journey was important to me. If I accepted what your grandparents were trying to do, by isolating and keeping you from me, I would have failed you and your mother. I would have confirmed every bad thing your grandfather saw in me. And I would have continued the generational stereotype that Molefe men are never good fathers" explains Molatlhegi.

"You are a good father. And I love you. I love you for what you did then and for what you are doing now" says Tshegofatso, brimming with pride. Molatlhegi is tearing up as he hears what Tshegofatso was saying to him.

"I love you too, my beloved daughter" replies Molatlhegi. There is a period of silence as father and daughter process the moment and its meaning. Warden Maluleke comes into the room to notify them that there is only one minute left. This reminder helps Tshegofatso to remember a task she was given.

"So, next week, after our session, my grandparents want to meet you. But they are scared that you may not want to see them. So they asked me to ask you" Tshegofatso knew she was asking a lot of her father, especially knowing a bit about their issues with each other.

"I'll see them. If that is what you want me to do" replies Molatlhegi.

"It is what I want" replies Tshegofatso

As Tshegofatso went home, Molatlhegi stole a moment to speak to Pearl about what Tshegofatso requested. He shared his fears that this may not be the best decision, but he didn't want to say no to his daughter. Pearl commits to him that she will be present in that meeting, to provide him with moral support as well as be a witness if anything goes wrong. Pearl's promise put Molatlhegi at ease with the upcoming meeting with Tshegofatso's grandparents