Ntombi! Ntombi!

I look through mama’s voile curtain to see a group of girls, some familiar and others older and unknown to me. I come outside to see them and I’m told we are going to the soccer pitch. I’m not given an opportunity to agree or decline so I fall into place and away we go.

What’s happening at the pitch?

You’ll see.

One of the girls – the older one I’m yet to meet officially retorts.

There’s this awkward feeling in the air and as we weave through the dusty narrow streets, I wonder to myself, why did I leave the comfort of my home, well that’s if doing dishes and shining window seals strike a comforting cord then fine …