Stolen Youth: Kasi Secrets Don’t Stay Buried

Chapter 4 ccontinued 

Chapter 4 The Day Kasi Turned Cold

The chill in the air didn't come from the weather—it came from what the kasi had become. What used to be a playground of laughter, soccer on gravel fields, uncles playing dominoes by the spaza shop, was now a maze of secrets, traps, and betrayals. The streets of Mabopane buzzed not with joy but with something darker, something that made even the dogs bark with hesitation.

Buhle stood at the edge of Tshepiso's yard, her face caught between determination and fear. After what happened with Mzwa, she knew the answers wouldn't come easy. But she was done waiting. If the truth wouldn't come to her, she'd go straight into the fire and fetch it herself.

She knocked once. Silence.

Twice. Footsteps.

The door creaked open. Tshepiso's eyes met hers.

"You," he said. No greeting. Just tension.

"We need to talk," Buhle replied. Her voice didn't shake.

"About what?"

"Everything."

He hesitated but let her in.

The room was dimly lit. Faint smell of paraffin and instant noodles lingered in the air. A half-finished blunt sat on the table beside an old speaker blaring slow amapiano. Tshepiso sat, arms folded. Buhle remained standing.

"You were there," she said. "The night Sbu died. I know you were."

Tshepiso looked away.

"You think I'm still that scared girl from last year? Nah. I see through all of you now. You, Mzwa, even Lwazi."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"I do," she snapped. "You were all there. You watched him bleed. And none of you called for help."

Tshepiso's voice dropped. "It wasn't supposed to go that way."

"Then how was it supposed to go? Huh? A beating? A scare tactic? That was my brother, you dog!"

He flinched. The mask he wore slipped for a moment. There it was—guilt.

"You loved him too," she whispered.

He sighed, standing. "We were family, yeah. But Sbu… he was in too deep."

"He was trying to get out," she fired back. "You kept him in."

"I didn't kill him, Buhle. But I didn't save him either."

Her chest tightened. For a moment, everything blurred.

---

Back in 2023, Sbu had changed. He stopped dancing at church, stopped showing up to soccer. He started hanging with older guys—those who wore gold chains and drove Golf GTIs. Mzwa introduced him. Tshepiso watched. Lwazi followed.

They called themselves "The Smoke Circle." A crew built on fast cash, petty hits, and secrets. Sbu had a conscience, and conscience was dangerous.

"He wanted out," Tshepiso muttered. "Said he had a plan. Said he'd go to the cops."

Buhle stepped back. "So you silenced him?"

"No! I told them to let him go. But Mzwa…" He broke eye contact. "Mzwa said snitches don't survive in kasi."

"So you watched."

"I tried to stop it. I swear on my mother."

Buhle clenched her fists. "But you didn't."

"No."

The silence cracked like thunder. Then she turned and left.

---

The next morning, Buhle met Zanele at school.

"Did you do it?"

"I know everything now," Buhle said.

"Now what?"

"I burn it all."

They skipped second period. Phones in hand. They leaked voice notes, screenshots, everything Buhle had collected. WhatsApp groups exploded. The Smoke Circle's dirty secrets were now everyone's business.

By lunchtime, teachers were involved. The principal looked stunned. SAPS showed up by 2PM.

Mzwa was arrested