1It was 11am on a Saturday morning, and Siseko was still in bed. The gaming joystick lay on the floor next to his desktop computer, with almost-empty glasses holding the remaining flat soda drink. Chip crumbs scattered empty packets, snuggling themselves in the loops of the carpet. And his dad, Bandile, stood at the door in defeated disbelief.
“SISEKO!”
Shock forcefully stole the sleep from Siseko’s body and he jolted into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes with his fist to try and make sense of the new day.
His dad walked towards his bed. “How are you still in bed at 11!?” He grabbed the duvet off of him and threw it onto the floor. “Were you playing your stupid games again late last night? I told you that you can’t play past 9!”.
“Umm, sorry… I’m getting up.”
“Just sorry!? You’re supposed to have cut the grass by now before it gets too hot. No man. You are 14. What kind of man do you think you’ll become like this?”
Siseko slowly started making his way off the bed. He had heard this speech over and over again. He was already mentally reciting the when I was your age song he was so used to hearing.
“By the time I get back, I want the dishes washed and the kitchen clean” his dad said as he slammed the door, and walked out of the house.
Walking along Camdeboo Road out of Fourways Gardens estate, Bandile started calming down.
I probably shouldn’t have reacted like that. I probably should’ve stayed to do it with him.
Ever since he became a single father after his wife disappeared to find her dreams or whatever, he wrestled with the fear of messing it up. All he knew was how he was raised, but those traditions didn’t seem to transplant so nicely into Johannesburg North. Being so far away from family, and the couple-friendships that just dissipated after he was no longer a couple left him to figure out this thing alone.
Arriving at the Spar shopping centre, he looked around to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He turned into the empty corridor, walked towards the back of the centre, and found a derelict door. Knocking gently, he said “hello, are you available?”
“We expected you sooner” said a harmony of voices from inside the door. “Come inside”.
The door creaked open as he slowly stepped inside the dark room. Without the light of windows, candles only lit the silhouettes of the three ladies who sat on the floor in the middle of the room: Gogo, Ouma and Aya. Clad in beads, banas and a Cape Dutch bonnet
“M-m-molweni”, Bandile said respectfully as he sat on the floor in front of them.
“What can we do you for today? I see your heart rate was high. Fighting with your boy again?” Ouma asked.
Bandile raised his arm and looked at his watch. “I see you’ve seen my vitals”.
“And Siseko’s” Gogo added.
“I just hope that kitchen is clean when I get back home” Bandile said.
Aya laughed. “He’s been on a call with that neighbour girl since you left. I doubt there’s any kitchen cleaning going on”.
Bandile let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“We can tell you what’s in store to prepare for the future” they said in unison, as if scripted in a children’s marketing crash course.
Aya started crawling around the room to light the incense. Ouma’s eyes started rolling around as if entering a trance. Gogo reached out behind her, and grabbed a sackcloth bag. She started shaking the bag, and threw its content onto the floor. Out of the bag flew microchips, and motherboards, and pieces of paper with mathematical formulae, and small hard drives labelled with people’s names, including Bandile and Siseko’s.
“Reading these bones”, Gogo started, “washing dishes may not be the best use of Siseko’s time.”
“Then what should he be doing instead?” Bandile asked confused.
“The future is digital!” Ouma exclaimed. “He should be learning to code to prepare for it.”
“Yes! And AI is going to take all the future jobs!”, Aya interjected. “Including that of those blue-collar programmers!”
“But why is he learning something that will be taken over anyway?” Bandile was now paralysed by the conflicting messages.
“It’s not for you to speak now!” Gogo rebuked. “Only to listen and obey”.
“I hope they are learning with augmented reality in their schools, otherwise he’ll be falling behind the rest of the world.” Aya continued.
“No need for getting dirty playing outside, they can now visit the Himalayas, the Grand Canyon or Stonehenge at the flick of the wrist”, Ouma added. “And not only that, but…”
They were interrupted by loud noises outside of the door. Then it went quiet. Then loud banging on the door. “You better open this door right now!” came the shouts from the other side.
“We are busy! Not right now!” Gogo pleaded.
The rackety door then started shaking at their shoving. Bang. Boom. Until it burst open.
“We want our money back right now! You are charlatans!” shouted one woman.
“We are in session right now. You are disturbing our sacred ritual. Please, respect the spirits” Gogo pleaded.
“You said physical school was over, so we enrolled our daughter in this online school and she now failed!” shouted a man from the back of the crowd.
“I put all my money in this crypto nonsense because you said fiat currencies were on their dying legs. Now I lost everything!” shouted another.
“You didn’t come back for the follow up meeting!” Gogo said now standing up. Her domineering figure towered over the others, casting a shadow on their silhouettes. “Every 6 months, you need to come back to hear what’s next, otherwise you’ll be left behind!”
A middle-aged woman pushed through to the front of everyone, and fell down crying on the floor. Everyone stood in silence to hear what she had to say.
“All I wanted was the best for my girl”, she said sobbing. “I got her all the things you said I should get her, the tablets and the phones and the goggles.” Her teary cries started confusing her words.
“And now we have lost her. She first stopped talking to us. Then stopped talking to her friends. She spent all her time with these stupid things in her face. And now she’s gone.”
Her story seemed to touch Bandile the most. The crowd then started getting even more angry. They started lighting tiki lights with fire, ready to burn the ladies in the middle of room. Bandile found a gap in the middle of the crowd, crawled out, and ran back to Fourways Gardens.
Arriving home, he found it just as predicted. The kitchen was still in a mess. Siseko stood there wide-eyed and still, shocked that his dad was home so soon. “I’m sorry dad. I was just getting started.”
Bandile looked down on the floor. Looked up at his son. Grabbed a mop and said “no worries, let’s finish it together.”
Photo by petr sidorov on Unsplash