Heart of Stone

Anathi Nyadu

Description

Khanyisile is devastated when his mother dies unexpectedly. When his father takes him from their Eastern Cape village to Cape Town, his life is turned upside down even more. At his new school, Harmony High, Khanyisile meets Given, who invites him to join the amaVura gang. But how far is he prepared to go to be part of them? And how does Given know Matchstix, the mysterious stranger his father takes him to meet in prison? When Khanyisile finds out the truth, it is almost too late for him to turn back from the dangerous path he has chosen � The series follows the lives of a group of teenagers attending a fictional township high school � Harmony High. The stories reflect their choices, struggles and triumphs. The paperbacks can fit into a pocket! Chapters are short and the language is accessible. Plots are built on tension and excitement. Harmony High books are positive, but not preachy. They are teen �soapies� guaranteed to get young people hooked on reading�

Informations

• Publié par: Cover2Cover Books
• Date de parution: 03 août 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 2
• EAN13: 9781929346783
• Langue: English

Extrait

Heart of Stone
Anathi Nyadu
Cover2Cover
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 1
It was New Year’s Eve in KwaMtuzuma village. It was also the happiest night of Khanyisile’s life. His cousin Sibusiso, his uncle Makhathini’s last-born son, was coming back from the mountain as a man. Uncle Makhathini’s house was a bee’s nest buzzing with activity. A large bull had been slaughtered in the morning. The yard was filled with people moving about: in front of the house, in the cooking place, women in colourful imibhaco prepared food in big black three-legged pots; the men sat by the kraal, passing a bucket of umqombothi from one mouth to another as they spoke loudly about the failings of government and the prices of goods that were always going up.
None of this was the reason for Khanyisile’s happiness. He was happy because of what his mother whispered to him as they stood behind one of the rondavels in Uncle Makhathini’s compound.
“Don’t tell Papi I told you this,” she had said, and looked him in the eyes conspiringly. “But this is your year, my son. It is your Matric year. But it is also the year you will go to the mountain.” She nudged him. “Your father is getting old. He is not well. It is time you become a man.”
Out of nowhere, a woman, that none of them could see, ululated in celebration. “Ukuzala kukuzolula, bantakwethu!” she ended off.
Khanyisile’s mother looked around to see who could have heard them. She sighed, having let go of something that had weighed for so long on her heart.
For a brief moment, mother and son looked at each other. In that moment Khanyisile felt that no other person would ever love him like she did. From that moment he would weigh other people’s love for him against the weight of hers.
She took his hand and a sudden flicker of pain crossed her face.
“Mama, are you okay?”
“It’s nothing.” She clutched her chest. “It will pass.”
Khanyisile believed her. His mother had always been the strong one. But he took her back home and made sure she was comfortable.
“Go out now, my son,” she said. “See in your year.”
Midnight struck. The crackers went off, colouring the night. “Happy! Happy! Happy New Year!” people screamed, and women ululated as they ushered in the new year. The dogs, hiding in dark corners, barked incessantly at the commotion in the usually quiet village.
That night, as he finally walked home, Khanyisile thought about what his mother had said and was overcome by happiness and a lightness of heart. He felt at peace with himself and the world. He smiled at the stars. Even his fear of walking alone in the darkness of the village was outweighed by his happiness.
“This is my moment,” he said to himself. “Nothing is going to steal it from me!” he shouted to the world.
As he walked home he thought about Papi. Wasn’t it his father’s job to tell him about the plans for the mountain? But it was always his mother who told him the big things. Papi was not much of a talker. He would rather spend his days sitting by the kraal looking at the distant mountains of KwaMtuzuma, deep in thought, rather than talk to Khanyisile.
Papi only spoke to him when he needed him to do something for him. “Bring me a cup of water,” he would say, and then nothing more would be said between the two of them again that day. Khanyisile avoided spending time with Papi, opting instead to go and play soccer with Sibusiso until his mother came back from the nearest town, where she worked as a domestic worker.
Khanyisile was not sure how Papi felt about those moments when they were together. He once asked his mother about why Papi never spoke to him.
“Papi loves you,” she assured him. “It’s just that he can’t show it – at least, not anymore. He is afraid of failing to guide you through this world. Our son …”
Khanyisile was not sure why his mother had not finished what she was about to say.
Khanyisile’s mother, unlike Papi, loved talking to him. On the weekends and on holidays, when she was around, their voices could be heard breathing life into the house. It seemed right then that it was his mother who had told him the greatest news. He was not sure if it had been Papi who had told him he would be this happy.
When he got home he jumped into bed, but sleep did not come quickly.