chapter1.1

The beauty of a sunset isn’t just in the view—it also brings the evening’s coolness, marking the end of the day’s heat and hard work, at least for those who don’t work at night. But for me, there’s nothing particularly positive about sunsets. I live in a building sandwiched between two others, so I never see the sunrise or the sunset. Evening, for me, signals the end of one ordeal and the start of another. By day, I work in a secretarial office; by night, I work in a seedy club. Soweto, a city in the southwest of Johannesburg one of South Africa’s wealthiest cities is also home to some of the country’s poorest neighborhoods. My area, with its bumpy, dusty roads and unreliable access to drinking water and electricity, has harsh living conditions. At least garbage collection is managed by the city, which is a small comfort. I’m thankful I don’t live on the Motsoaledi side, where conditions are even worse. I stay in Chrie Ani, where the houses are made of bricks and life is a bit easier. I live in a 15-square-meter space divided into two rooms a bedroom area and a small kitchen with the bare essentials. The kitchen has a few dishes, some utensils, a kerosene stove, two small basins, and a table. The bedroom has a single bed, a small table, and a chair at the end of the bed, along with two bags that hold my clothes. The walls are a pale, faded green, worn down by time and mold. I should mention that my name is Carla Bosh, but I prefer to be called Lalie, a nickname my mother gave me. Unfortunately, she passed away four years ago. I never knew my father, so it was just my mother and me against the world until I found myself alone four years ago. I was in my final year of high school, preparing for my baccalaureate exams a difficult time, the darkest period of my life. I’ll never forget Saturday, April 14, when a doctor in a white coat gave me the worst news of my life. I don’t recall ever being happy after that day. Everything happened so quickly, as if my mother’s family was in a hurry to get the funeral over with. I didn’t understand the arrangements; I barely had time to realize my mother was gone before I was standing in front of her closed grave, with a few wilted flowers scattered around. After the mourning rituals, I never went back. At first, it was because I couldn’t afford to, and later, it was out of shame. I knew my mother wouldn’t be proud of the life I was living. I dropped out of school a few months later, after completing my exams, to force my way into the working world. Gone were the dreams of grandeur—no more training school, big job, big house, multiple cars, a husband, and kids before I turned 28. Even though I wasn’t great at school, I was smart enough to know better. I earned my baccalaureate at 21, the delay caused by not being able to pay school fees. I started as a housemaid, and I can say today that it’s the worst job there is. The conditions were decent since I had a place to live and food to eat, but the family treated me as less than human. Even though the pay wasn’t great, I held on. I managed to save enough to move into my small room a year later, where I started doing odd jobs working as a waitress in supermarkets, a sales assistant in shops, and even a warehouse worker before landing a job in a secretarial office. I handle typing, photocopying, printing everything that comes with secretarial work. Six months later, I started working in that seedy bar, The Green. Even the name doesn’t make sense, a mix of French and English, and the color doesn’t match the place every color is faded and dirty at The Green. I’ve just finished getting ready to head to The Green. I’m not really looking forward to it because the work uniform is extremely short just scraps of fabric to cover the essentials. The worst part is that we must flirt with customers for meager tips and not complain when they decide to treat our bodies like merchandise, groping us to check the quality. Fortunately, we waitresses can still say no to indecent proposals from customers. I have an ordinary physique slim, with a height of 1.80 meters. I’ve never thought of myself as having particularly generous curves. I have dark skin and am quite thin, weighing barely 60 kilos. I’ve never found my face particularly attractive, so there’s nothing special about me.

-Lalie! Finally, you’re here. Prince came by earlier, and I had to tell him you went to make a credit transfer, Ana greeted me as soon as I walked through the doors of The Green. She was literally the only person I connected with on this earth.

-Thank you so much, Ana. You saved my life.

-No problem, Lalie. You know how much Prince enjoys docking pay for even a minute of lateness, and I know you really need the money. It’s only fair.

-I’ll go change quickly before he comes back and realizes the trick.We both laughed, and I hurried to the showers to change and start my shift. 

he shift went as usual dodging indecent groping as best I could, lewd comments, a few tips here and there, loud music, and people dancing as if they wanted to meld into one body. The strong smells of sweat and the alcohol flowing freely made it hard to believe it was only Wednesday, the middle of the week, and yet people were partying as if it were the weekend, almost until 2 a.m.When I got home, I fell straight into bed so I could start my day at 8 a.m. the next morning, as always. And so, my week ended in its usual dreary routine. Ana was the only person in my life who came close to being called a friend, and we barely saw each other outside of work. She had other friends and a busy social life, unlike mine. Besides home, work, the beach, and occasionally church, I have no other activities. I know no one would envy my life; in fact, even I don’t wanted it. Today is Sunday, and I’m heading to church. I often go to Sandton to check out the handsome guys. At least in church, the poor can mix with the rich, and I can peacefully admire nature’s gifts. If you didn’t catch it, I’m referring to the men walking the streets of Sandton. I’ve never been in a relationship not by choice, but because, other than the perverted customers at The Green who show me a bit of interest, I don’t really have any suitors. I don’t attract many people, if any at all. I mentioned earlier that I have a rather ordinary physique, so at 25, I’ve never had a kiss, a boyfriend, let alone sex. Yet, I want to kiss; I want to experience one of those kisses you see on TV or in those romantic scenes described in novels. In any case, I have plenty of crushes, which is better than nothing, right? I’ve been to Ana’s place a few times to watch TV because I don’t have one at home. When my mother passed away, her siblings quickly took the few appliances we had they took everything. To escape the emptiness that is my life, I often go to the library to immerse myself in novels