Khensani and Dudu

When Khensani met Dudu at the community centre it was a combo made in heaven for her, it was a dream that came true. And, these days, not many dreams ever come true, let alone promise to do so. 

At last, she was in a city and a city girl was going to be her friend.

Khensani was from a rural village far from anywhere near the life she envied on television and films screens-but never believed she could b happy to live. In her rural village she saw, on many days and many moons, countless fields of green, lush vegetation undulating from one hilltop to another, she saw a tapestry of beautiful art that serenaded her eyes atop many hilltops that littered the skyline around her. And it not only humans who regaled in such beauty, but the animals that belonged to the various clans in the village also regaled in such beauty when feeding, grazing in the succulent fields of green.


It was an area she knew well, cause this is where her mother gave birth to her, and this is where her life shares her own umbilical cord with her.

She knew everyone who lived in the fresh early morning breeze, in the sweet smelling waters of the nearby fountain which fed the sprawling river that spiralled down the valley below to run away into the world she has heard so much about, a world she so dearly wanted to smell in her nostrils, a world she wanted to taste, a world she wanted to feed on, and the world that her eyes longed to see.


But here in her village she was at peace with everyone in a neighbour scattered with many family compounds, people who, given any moment in time, were like a family to her. Many of these people owned many animals and did not want, but were self sufficient and life was good.

And, now the time came for her to travel to that world and she was eager for, yet nervous about. It was bout meeting new, foreign people who did not grow at any of the compounds that formed and shaped much of her childhood and her young life. Ever she was a child she was took a keen interest in nursing, and now she was going to study this exciting course in the big city, at a community development centre.


On her first day so many wannabe nurses, looking with trepidation at each other, ambled in the big premises as if waiting for a miracle to happen, while they completed registrations. They stared in amazement at the main hall, the vast kitchen and at the surrounding buildings that formed the centre. They were also struck in awe by the locals who ere dressed to the nines and who mingled effortlessly and made life exciting to live.  The girls were beautiful and Khensani was in dreamland, fantasizing about looking at Rihanna, a Nicky Minaj or maybe an Adriana.


Now a fortnight had gone by and she was almost all alone for most of the time while she looked at he surroundings and living like she was still in her village.

“Hi,” a young woman came out of nowhere and snuggled up to her, her smile tentative and her eyes alive with expectation. Khensani looked in to the big eyes and although the situation caught her by surprise, her mind worked fast and her heart was racing into the wilderness. The girl came from nowhere and Khensani was a bit rattled as she did not know anyone there and did not expect any of the smartly dressed girls to take a fancy to her. 


“Hallo,” she returned the greeting, preferring to say ‘hallo’ instead of ‘Sanibonani’, a village greeting she was used to. She wanted to fit in from the onset.

“I am Dudu.”

“I am Khensani.” And then both of them giggled randomly when they waited for the proceedings move forward. It was Dudu who recovered first. She asked Khensani if she would like a cup of coffee.  Khensani agreed and they went into a small tuck shop where an assistant served them.

“I can’t believe we have been here two weeks already,” Dudu said as they sat on some garden chairs to relax. “And I have been looking at you ever since,” she added, her eyes sparkling, full of promises. “Where do you live here?”


Khensani was exasperated when the lady said she had been ogling her, but at the same time she was overwhelmed but was excited that the most gorgeous woman she has seen around the centre was actually speaking to her and actually, befriending her. She was cautious though, because some of her family members warned her about strangers in the big city. They warned her about strange, rich men, about excessively helpful and charming men, about well-dressed girls who spoke smoothly and had too much money. She was advised about human trafficking, about crime. They also warned her to be wary of street children. ‘They are children because of their ages’, they alerted her, ‘but they are the worst of the slum world. Some of them work for pimps and some organise crimes and so on’. So when this pretty, young lass rubbed herself against her Khensani was befuddled and not sure, yet keen and pleased to be noticed.


So she smiled into the inviting eyes and her world brightened. “I live in a rented back room around here,” she told Dudu.  “What do you mean that you have looking at me all along?” she wanted to know.

“Come on Khensani,” Dudu patted her back, “every one here wants a piece of you. I can’t believe I am the one who broke the ice,” and she hugged her, slightly knocking her off her stride.

Khensani recoiled, but to hide her reaction she laughed and she too patted Dudu and said, frowning, “Every one? How so Dudu?”

“How is every thing for you here? I could do with some fun today,” she gave Khensani a smile. “It’s Friday.” 


Khensani became alive and a red light, like a Hong Kong neon light in a dark night, came alight and blinked irritatingly in Khensani’s mind. However, she chose to ignore it and continued to sip her coffee as she looked at Dudu, trying to make up her mind about her. Small groups of students formed around them and she was scanning them to see if any of them took interest in her and Dudu. Nearby a small band of young men who made an unsuccessful pass at her in the past: but that was what boys did most of the time: chasing after ladies and she was not troubled by them.    

But she did not want to tell Dudu that back home she was warned to stay away from trouble.

“Hmm…Friday? Neh?” She echoed Dudu.  “What do you have in mind?”

Dudu shifted on her seat, her hands flailing in the air in excitement. “All sorts of these things you know.”

“What ‘things’?” Khensani asked and forced a laugh.

“Do you smoke?” Dudu asked suddenly and Khensani nearly flipped over.

“Smoke? My grandma would toss me over a cliff if I did.”

“Just asking friend.”

“Do you smoke Dudu?”

“Well, let us say I have experimented.”

 “But you don’t anymore do you?”

“Weed was not for me…”

“Weed?”

Dudu finished her coffee in an exaggerated movement and threw her empty paper cup into a nearby trash can. “Let’s go sweetie,” she beckoned to Khensani who was still shocked. Weed, she thought. Dudu, her eyes all over the centre, led the way. “You see that boy over there?” Khensani said she did. “He sells weed and some stuff,” she giggled and hugged Khensani, ushering her away.

Khensani’s exaggerated her shock as her eyes widened in disbelief. “He looks like a choir boy,” she whispered. 

“I know him well…He is indeed a choir boy at our church. See that girl over there,” Dudu pointed to a girl in a happy pink dress and white sneakers. “She walks the street for money.”

“She what…Oh my God,” Khensani threw her hands all over the place. “She looks like an angel.”

“She is an angel. We worship together.”

Just then Khensani saw one of the boys who hit up on her a week before. The boy was in an exuberant mood then and bought Khensani a big lunch at a fancy restaurant in the city. She allowed herself to be in his company because there were other boys and girls with them from the centre and at the time she was hungry while she waited for an e-wallet from back home.

“That guy there,” she told Dudu, “Is a fancy play maker.”

“Play boy?” Dudu asked, surprised by the turn of the conversation.

Khensani was amused by this, the look of surprise in Dudu’s face. “Play maker. He took me out last week, made my day.”

“He did? He also took me out last week too.”

“He has lots of money,” Khensani pointed out.

“He steals cars when he is not in class or asleep at his house.”

Khensani stopped in her tracks. “A hijacker?”

“Yes, and you enjoyed crime money,” Dudu sniggered. “You are in trouble with the law.”

Khensani stiffened. “You are lying. I did nothing wrong,” she said, alarmed.

“The cops say something about the proceeds of crime.” She stopped in front of Khensani, blocking her way. “Let’s go this way. I want to see my friends.”     

They left the centre and in a few minutes they were in an alley between two towering buildings. It was smelly and rubbish lay strewn all over and as they trudged along they disturbed rats that scattered all over looking for an escape. The only other people who seemed unperturbed by their approach were a group of street kids who were lying on card boxes while some squatted with their backs to the wall, sniffing glue.

“Where are going?” Khensani wanted to know.

“Friends over there,” Dudu pointed to the group of dirty boys and girls they were approaching. It was scary for Khensani because they were now in the middle of the alley with the ends far away for an escape.    

“You mean these dirty children? She wrinkled her nose in scorn. “I am not going near them,” she said and stopped. Dudu, however, went over to the group which seemed to be happy to see her.

Khensani looked around her from left to right as if waiting for someone to appear and rescue her. Dudu continued with the group amid some hilarious laughter and hand clapping and patting on the back.  At some point she saw Dudu give them some money and one of the little urchins extended his dirty, grimy hand to Dudu but Dudu obscured the movement and Khensani failed to see what happened. Dudu opened her bag and put something in it. When she was finished with them she eventually came to where Khensani was. “Let’s go friend,” she said nonchalantly, a forlorn look on her face.   

“Something wrong Dudu?” Khensani asked because Dudu was in a disturbing silence for while.

“Well,” she said, finally. “One of the girls is pregnant. She needs help.”

“I didn’t see any pregnant girl there,” Khensani looked over her shoulder at the group which was now standing in a circle as if huddled in a prayer. “How old is she?”

“Only thirteen,” Dudu said and added. “And she is very sick right now.” She went on to explain that the girl was lying in a pile of rubbish that is why Khensani did not see her.  “I need to find help for her.”


As they   re-joined the busy street they saw the man Khensani call the play maker and the girl in the happy pink dress with some men standing by the door of a bar. Immediately, Dudu grabbed Khensani by the hand and led her over to the group.

When they were within ear shot Khensani stopped but Dudu let her go and went over t the group. Again, the red light in head flickered, and Khensani wondered what she going to do with the group and the thought of turning away from all this came into her mind but curiosity killed it. She was also afraid now that Dudu will laugh at her if she chickened out.  Dudu spoke rapidly to the group while gesturing towards Khensani and the group looked at her but, their faces serious and somehow in shock, continued to listen to Dudu who was pointing also in the direction of the alley, where the street children were.


Immediately, the play maker jumped into a nearby parked sassy vehicle and the lady in pink did too. Some in the group also boarded the car which roared off in great speed.

“That is taken care of,” Dudu said, relieved.

“Are they taking care of the pregnant child?” Khensani asked her.

“Yes,” she answered and remained still for some moments as she leaned against the shop wall as they stood on the pavement, people rushing in between them. “Let’s get back there,” Khensani pulled her by the hand and Khensani allowed her to.  

Khensani sat on a crate of beer while Dudu, the lady in the pink happy dress and play maker huddled around a funny, small man who worked furtively, and who from time to time looked suspiciously at the ends of the alley. The man, as he worked on the pregnant street child, kept looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone to appear and threaten him. Other street children also stood a little away from them and also looked around smoking weed and eating as if nothing was happening.  


In the beginning of it all Khensani also huddled around the man and the teenager but as the operation progressed she felt a knot in her stomach and became sick. She threw up three or four times until her stomach felt empty. It was the first time she experienced a street abortion, let alone abortion itself. The man appeared to know what he was doing because there was a set procedure he followed and even when the girl screamed in pain he remained unaffected. And everybody around him remained calm, only expecting her finish. It seemed to be something they had experienced before.

After some twenty minutes a parcel was wrapped in dirty clothing while blood flowed away. The funny man got up, took off his gloves and told them the girl will be well soon. Khensani saw the playmaker reach into his pocket and saw him give what appeared to money to the funny.  The man grabbed it quickly but remained placid, although it was obvious that he was eager to get away from it all as soon as he could.

“Let us all go have a drink,” Dudu said, urging the group to follow them. While others chatted quietly Khensani was very quite and tense in her thoughts, she was still in a shock, in disbelief, that she saw a life terminated in front of her eyes just like that, like putting off a lighted flame of a candle. Led by the playmaker, they all went into a bar and Khensani could not resist going in too, she was in a trance, trapped into a morbid fascination.


The playmaker bought them drinks and after two rounds he announced that he and his friends had a little job to do for a customer who wanted the merchandise before the week-end.

“So this is the big city,” Khensani eventually sighed. She hesitated, but in the end she remarked to Dudu about the brutal abortion of life earlier on. No one since then seemed keen to discuss it.

“Yes, Khensani,” Dudu let her shoulders drop and, sighed. “We got into a situation and what could I do?”

“Was it your first time?” Khensani found herself asking, although she did not want to know.

Dudu got from her stool and picked up her bag. “Let’s go friend.”

As they trudged along the busy pavements where vendors tried to sell them anything from dough to a pair of pliers, Khensani’s mind worked endlessly in a circle of doubt, of denial. She wanted to ask about the lady in the pink dress but was not sure how to do that without appearing naïve. The little she heard in the bar was that she was going to make ‘a quick buck on the other side of town’. 

Khensani did not have an inkling of what that meant but the lady appeared to be reluctant to go to the other side of the town. She seemed not to be happy about it, except she hoped they will pay ‘the money I want. If they don’t I will kick their butts for them’, she threatened.     

“Dudu,” Khensani called and pulled Dudu to a stop. “Can we pray please?”

“That is what I need too,” Dudu said and immediately there was another alley between two abandoned buildings. “Let‘s do it here.” Khensani noticed yet another group of dirty looking people in the alley who looked at them with some interest. She did not like their kind of attention. “Forget about them.” Dudu assured her, “I know them, they know me.” They held hands together and before they could start their prayer Dudu advised,” Don’t close your eyes when we pray?  And Khensanis’s eyes, once more, went to the community of hoboes in the alley and to both openings of the alley.


When she finally lay on her bed and trying to shake the day out of mind, Khensani’s phone alerted her of a new message. It was a WhatsApp message from her parents and she read, ‘How are you my child? We miss you here at home. We hope that, in between having a good time, you are also careful of the big city snakes. Bye’.