Chapter 1

"Aneliswa. Please finish your food. I can't afford to be late for this interview. And school for you."

A first job interview for, Zizwe Dumakude. Graduating from high school, Zizwe did not further his studies due to financial issues. It been only a dream for him to become a qualified mechanical engineer. Piece jobs for cleaning people's yard provided bread after his mother died three years ago. As for his father, apparently Zizwe was denied when he was still in his mother's womb.

Zizwe knew him. He'd seen him around the hamlet. A drunk like his mother had been. He'd never spoken or greeted him. He was one of the people who loathed his family. That night Zizwe was created, he and his mother had met in the shebeen, both highly intoxicated and failed to ignore their arousal.

"We can go, I'm full" said Aneliswa. A small smile spreading on her angular face as she grabbed her backpack.

Zizwe suspected she was lying. For a week she'd been having difficulties to adjust on the porridge. Snailing on it until time forbid her to finish the whole dish. He didn't blame her, it was just a plain porridge without sugar. Sadly it was that time of the month, where food becomes shortage when it close to month end. Almost everything running out.

Locking the door, Aneliswa clutched his hand and marched out of the gate. One of their neighbors across the gravel road, a woman with a light complexion was hanging clothes on a wire clothing line. Probably same age or a year less than Zizwe. She grinned and waved when she saw the two siblings passing by.

"Bhutii, you should invite her to eat supper with us" said Aneliswa.

Zizwe laughed sofly under his nearly toneless voice. A voice that was a music instrumental played by his dark skin. Bass and the elements sounding on his beady black eyes. He'd seen how, Aneliswa became effectual at her presence. Admittedly, the neighbor was the only fan of his music appearance that he was attracted to. She has been kind and generous to him and his sister. Despite the ugly relevant rumors about his family, she was the only neighbor that liked his family.

"We can't invite her for dumplings with fish curry. Maybe the day we can afford some chicken or beef."

"But you know Carol wouldn't care what we eat. She's not like that. She'd be happy that you invited her" Aneliswa persisted.

"You really like her don't you?"

"I know you do too. Without more ado ask her out already."

"Okay, I will" said Zizwe. He smiled feeling the courage to finally fulfill his desire to ask her out.

Zizwe had dated once or twice in his life. And that was back in secondary school. It wasn't because he was disinterested of having a relationship. The situation of his family history had drowned him deep in loneliness. Most women weren't interested in him. Despite his good looks all they could see was the reflection of Gogo Dumakude the witch.

Dropping Aneliswa at her school, Zizwe was hopeful the creamy trousers and the Grey stripped shirt was going to make an impression to the interviewer. Approaching the Sibiya's Bricks, Sand & Stones, a double storey building, he saw a group of men and women manifesting bricks. Others loading sand with shovels into different trucks. Bulks of bricks off for delivery. It was busy; Zizwe had certainty he was going to join the sweltering party very soon.

It would be a miracle for him and his little sister. Generating a proper income. Being able to afford more food, tasty like chicken and beef; a few better clothes. Perhaps a romantic date with Carol too.

Zizwe received instructions to wait upstairs from a chilly reception. He wasn't surprised to see other three candidates waiting for their turns. People applied everyday for jobs in that company. The only company that existed in Mqanqala. Zizwe was among the lucky ones to be called for an interview.

Waiting for over twenty five minutes, Zizwe's heart took a furious pump when he stepped inside a modest basic office. The moment Zizwe saw the arrogance emotion on the interviewer, it became the aggravation of his heart.

"Good morning, Mr Sibiya. Thank you for the opportunity of this interview" he said with determination.

Mr Sibiya beckoned for Zizwe to have a seat, having a look on his curriculum vitae. The navy blue suit flashing him as a president who was about address the nation.

"Zizwezona Duma..." Mr Sibiya paused and looked up at Zizwe. "Dumakude? That family of the old witch."

Zizwe almost gulped at Mr Sibiya's bloodshot gaze. It was clear he's one of the people who despised his family. And for that reason alone was eventually going to lead an aimless life for Zizwe, as long as he was still around the hamlet.

"Mr Sibiya. I can assure you none of my family members are a threat to this village. I will cause no harm to your company as I am man who desperately need a job. I have a responsibility of raising my little sister" Zizwe responded airily.

"Raise another witch" Mr Sibiya leaned back on his chair. "I don't believe for a second that none of you doesn't have the spirit of your great-grandmother. It only a matter of time until you reveal your true colors. Like how late it had been for people to know the culprit of this hamlet. Your granny was an abomination. She bewitched and killed successful people of Mqanqala. Tortured them with her black magic.

Let me tell you something that probably you don't know" Mr Sibiya clasped his hands on the table." My grandmother was the first woman to be successful in Mqanqala. An educator. She was an angel to everyone. Everyone loved her soul. But when she discovered the wickedness by your granny, she was killed. It was a weird death. Tragic. Somehow walking home in a bad weather she found herself stuck in a half broken tree bunk. Which emerged on her. Killing her instantly. I was only a few weeks old when it happened. Now why would I employ anyone from that family? It'd be a risk to my success and a spit to my grandmother's grave."

Zizwe had been in the dark about what abomination had happened to the Sibiyas because of the witch that had been in his family. His mother had told him many stories about her grandmother. The bad things she had done to the people of Mqanqala; not the one about a Sibiya. If he was aware then he'd have reconsidered about applying for the job as he wouldn't had a chance to be accepted and employed.

"If I had a look on these CVs after they were handed to me by my personal assistant I would have torn and thrown it in the trash."

"Mr Sibiya-"

"Pick you ass up and shove it out of my office" said Mr Sibiya brutally, squashing Zizwe's CV and tossed it in the bin under the table.

And that was it. The end of a failure interview that never commenced. There was nothing for, Zizwe to say or do to dispose a mind that engrossed in the past. Especially for the one who was still grieving the tragic death of his grandmother.

Descending the stairs, Zizwe was feeling blue. His great-grandmother had left a massive wound in this hamlet that can never be healed. Hatred for him and his sister was abound the whole of Mqanqala.

The weather had changed that morning. The temperature being above unpleasant. The muggy weather rushed Zizwe back home extremely disappointed. All the things of his needs he had planned if he were to get the job were charred. The anxiety crashed him into a nap on the couch; the dream followed was disturbing and disquieting. The nightmarish great grandmother had came back to haunt him.