Hamba Kahle

Zoo Lake, Johannesburg

It was summer, humid and hot. In the mornings, it steamed, and in the evenings, there was thunder and rain, and I hid behind my father for reassurance. That afternoon, we were going to the Parkview swimming pool, my sister Anna and I. Siena, our Zulu nanny, walked us, but she was fat and heavy, and the sweat poured off her face, and she kept stopping to rest.

 Halfway there, we said we’d walk the rest of the way ourselves, and relieved, Siena said: Hamba kahle” my children, “Go carefully — and don’t talk to people you don’t know.”

Fixing Anna’s hat so that it shaded her fair face, she admonished. “An’ you, Miss Anna, you listen to your sister. Wiping her wet face with her handkerchief, she added: “And keep out the sun, already you look red like a tomato!”

Noticing my worried face Siena patted me on the shoulder. “Houw – what you worried for? You eight years old and you sister only five and she not frightened!” She shooed me with her hands: “Nihambe kahle – go well.”There was nothing to worry about because we lived in Greenside, a quiet suburb in a good neighborhood of Johannesburg, where bad things never happened. Besides, she knew my timorous soul would keep me from venturing far from a safe course. Not so, however, my sister, who as Mommy said, “would talk to a goose.”

Hand in sweaty hand, Anna and I walked down the road and round the corner, our neat shorts and sun shirts covering bubble-stretch swimsuits, carrying our towels rolled into fat tubes under our arms. We walked cautiously to avoid cracks and lines in the pavement blocks but Anna kept pushing me and making me stumble so that I just missed or landed on a crack. Of course she thought this very funny and shrieked in her babyish way: “Wah – you gonna get bad luck!” To which I retorted that sticks and stones might break my bones but her words would never hurt me. This was the way we went, hopping and skipping and pushing and laughing and squabbling: I the older sister, bookish, serious, weighed down by the responsibility of being ‘in charge’ and Anna, only five, reckless, daring - scared of nothing at all.

“Let’s cut through the golf course,” Anna said. I was tempted because it was so hot and the course afforded a shorter route to the pool. Nevertheless, I held back. There was something intimidating about the golf course with its thick bushes and dense fir trees.
“Mommy will be cross,” I said, shrinking, but it made no difference for even as I spoke Anna was climbing over the wooden fence and running down the sandy lane inside the course. I followed, my eyes darting around. The place was deserted save a black man without a shirt, pushing a noisy lawnmower in wide arcs. “Hey you - you not allowed to be here!” he shouted, giving me a fright, and with my heart whirring, I took flight after Anna.

By the time I caught up with her, she was at the end of the lane where she had flopped down under a Synringa tree and was sucking a sweet stem of kikuyu grass, looking a picture of innocence. “Where were you? Did you get lost?” she asked, but I gave her a look and said that if she didn’t hold my hand I’d never take her out with me again. Pulling away from me, she said: “Don’t touch me - you’re hands are yukky!”

We crossed the busy intersection that took us to the lake adjacent to the pool. It was in a large, grassed and treed area with giant willows that clung to eroded edges, drooping tendrils and leaves like dancers arms, into the water. At that hour the lake was busy with people: black nannies pushing babies in strollers or gathering for a Church of Zion prayer meeting. An old lady who threw seed out to the pigeons, smiled at us and sat down next to an elderly gentlemen who stared into space.

Anna unwrapped the sandwich Siena had made for her and took a bite. She threw a piece of bread into the water. “Here duckie,” she called, pointing to a line of ducks waddling to an island in the middle of the lake. “Oh, they’re so sweet!” she cried, imitating their movements with her hand waving behind her back like a tail.

“One day I’m going to be a ballerina,” I said wistfully. “I’m going to dance on that island.”
“Like Sybille!” Anna exclaimed, for we’d both watched our teacher, Sybille, dance the role of Giselle there, under the star-studded sky.

Throwing a pebble in the water, I imagined myself, ten years older, in a dirndl with lacy petticoats that flared and swirled, pirouetting and springing through the air while my Prince sighed and the orchestra mourned: “Oh Giselle… oh Giselle”…dancing, ‘til I dropped from a broken heart. “Yes, “I repeated dreamily, “One day I will dance on the island,” putting my feet into third position to make a perfect entrechat. But, just then, I noticed that Anna was squatting at the water’s edge – too close to the edge and I sprang forward and jerked her arm.

“Hey Sands,” she said, pointing to a clump of reeds and bulrushes, “You think that’s where they found that chopped up body?”
“Don’t go there,” I called, shrinking as I recalled the story about the torso of a woman being fished out of the lake. “Imagine,” I remarked, “imagine finding a suitcase with a hand and a leg in it! I wonder what happened to her head?”
“Maybe a lion escaped from the zoo and ate it,” giggled Anna, approaching the reeds daringly. She squealed, “Oy! What’s that?” She sprang back, “I think I see a box!” I wished I’d never brought her with me.

The lake was situated in a large park that included the municipal pool as well as the Johannesburg zoo, a vast enclosure where wild animals including lions and tigers and other large beasts lived. At the entrance an elongated bronze angel stood on a tall archway, guarding the sanctuary with a fearsome sword. At night the zoo took on an eerie aspect, with the angel casting a formidable black silhouette and large birds cawing and shrieking - for me, the stuff of nightmares. And whenever we had to drive past the zoo at night, I would try to get my father to go another route.

The pool was full, for it was the only public amenity in the area. Acting very grown up, we approached the ticket office and I said, “One and a half” because Anna, being only five, didn’t have to pay full price. A man with a red face and a frayed straw hat gave us a key to a locker and pushed us through the turnstile, reminding us not to “forget to put on suntan lotion, young ladies.” Giggling, we scampered to the ladies change-rooms. Quickly, we stripped off our clothes and bundled them into a wire-mesh cubbyhole. Tying the key around my neck the way the older teenagers did, I felt very sophisticated.

Anna rushed to the pool, giving me a thousand frights. I was more cautious. A group of older boys doing belly-flops and dive bombing into the water, laughed when I squealed at the water they splashed over me.

A voice called, “Hey Sandy!” Hearing my name, I and turned to find my friend Joannie, looking as colorful as a paint by numbers picture with her freckles, red hair and orange shirt. Kissing and hugging each other as we always did, she asked “Where you sitting?” I pointed to our towels and she ran to put her things with ours.

“Let’s get something from the kiosk,” she said.
“Don’t be wild,” I shouted to Anna, leaving her with Joannie’s older brother, Steven, while we went to buy ice-lollies and potato crisps.

By the time we returned, Anna was already in the water — as my mother would say – swimming like a fish! Jumping, bombing with the big boys and getting red in the face. I unrolled my towel, smoothing all the wrinkles, and sat down to my lolly and my book – a new Sue Barton nurse story. Everyone said I was a bookworm and my mother always told her friends how, one day I was so absorbed by a story that I was reading, that I bumped into a tree, getting a twig up my nose, and making it bleed so much that I needed stitches. Joannie also took her book– she had a Nancy Drew mystery, which we agreed to swap when we were finished.

There were now so many people in the pool that one could only jump and yell. Reading was just about out of the question. Every five minutes a voice would boom over the public speaker yelling instructions:
“Will the boy at the left corner stop his dive-bombs,”
“I have one little boy with me and he says he’s lost his Mommy. What’s your name, Sonny? Evan? Evan Robbins. Will the mother of Evan Robbins please come and claim her son!”
And “I’ve told you boys to stop jumping and pushing – now get out of the water immediately. You are banned from the pool for 30 minutes!”

“Shall we get into the water?” I suggested and Joannie and I jumped straight in. Gingerly, I touched the water with my pinkie. “Jislaaik[1]], it’s cold!” I shuddered, withdrawing my food and hugging my arms around my chest.
“Just jump,” ordered Anna, splashing me with her hand. "Ouch, don’t – I’ll tell-.”
“Tattle tale tit!” Anna called, holding her nose and diving into a somersault under the water.
I clung to the pool stairs but someone wanted to climb out and dripped water all over me. “Hey!” I shouted, making a face.
“Listen kid, make up your mind. You’re either in or out.”

“Come on, Sandy,” Joannie called, “It’s not that cold once you’re in!”
Frowning, I yielded to the cold, gasping at the icy water, and dog-paddled away.
“Just put your head under the water!” cried pain in the neck, Anna, splashing me again. “Let’s race -!”
I breaststroked between the other children and adults playing in the shallow end. Now that I was in, the water was quite pleasant. I wished I could do ‘crawl’ like Anna and Joannie, but I couldn’t get the breathing right.

“Take your right arm up, straight above… in line with your ear,” my swimming instructor had said, “head to the side!” But no matter what I tried, I came up gasping. Someone grabbed my feet and tossed me off balance. Anna pulled me down under the water and made a funny face, stretching her eyes with her hands.
I was scared she’d slip and drown and everyone would think it was my fault. And I wasn’t being a worrywart —– these things did happen! People did drown and I knew that for a fact. It had happened to Yetta Love, a girl in my ballet class with red hair and a pink complexion that reminded me of vanilla ice-cream. Everyone knew that the undertow pulled Yetta Love under the water on a perfectly calm and beautiful summer day when she was just standing next to her mother in the surf at Muizenberg.

Joannie and Anna and I held hands and played “ring a ring of roses,” holding our noses and sinking to the bottom of the pool when we sang “all fall down” until we felt silly for playing such a babyish game. We threw nigger-balls and dived for them, trying to pick them up in our mouths. Joannie reminded me of a fish with her eyes all popped out and her mouth like an ‘O” making me laugh under the water, and I spluttered and choked until the pee ran down my legs. After that I wouldn’t put my face in the water, even when Anna and Joannie timed each other to see who could sink down and hold her breath for the longest time.

When we’d had enough, Joannie and I sat at the side of the pool dangling our feet in the water and I told Anna to get out because that’s what my mother would do and her fingers were getting wrinkled and soggy. Naturally, she ignored me.

It was while we were lying back with our faces to the sun that the voice on the public speaker boomed and I couldn’t believe my ears because for an instant, thought I heard my name.
The speaker called again: “Important telephone call for Sandy Smith – please come to the Manager’s office.”

“Who? Me?” I asked, jumping up. Why would anyone call me? “Who can want me?” Since my parents were at work and Siena didn’t even know the number at the pool, who would know where to find me?
A little frightened Anna and Joannie and I ran to the manager’s office. A gruff man in a floral shirt said: “You Sandy Smith?”
“Yes,” I nodded, frowning.
“Someone on the phone wants to speak to you.”
“Me? Who?”
The man shrugged. “Better be important,” he said. “This is not a public call box.”
“Hello,” I said, timidly, taking the receiver.
I heard the voice of a man – not a familiar voice. “That Sandy?”
“Ye-s? Who is this?”
“I’m your mother’s friend,” said the voice. “My mother’s friend? Who?” I made a puzzled face and shrugged. I had no idea who the man was. “What do you want?’
“Are you having a good time?”
“Who is this? What’s your name?” I asked. Anna tried to grab the phone.
Let me, let me!” I pushed her away.
“Isaac.” he said. “You know me, I’ve been to your house.
“Isaac?” I couldn’t remember anyone called Isaac.
“You always go swimming at the Lake?”
“Yes?”
“Alone?”
“ Uh-uh - with Anna of course. And Joannie - my friend.”

The man said: “Your mother said I could ask you some questions…”
The manager glowered at me and I shifted uncomfortably. “Hurry!” he said.
“What questions?”
“What color is your mother’s hair?”
“Brown of course,” I answered, thinking how stupid the question was. But Isaac was an adult and my mother’s friend, so I presumed he had a good reason for asking.
“Down there…what color is it down there?”
I looked down at my feet. “Down where?”
“On your mother’s vagina,” the man said.
My heart beat quicker and I snickered - We called it a ‘poupi’ and the blatant word ‘vagina’, made me gasp.
“I don’t know….” I felt a giggle coming but at the same time I was frightened.
“I wanna lick her cunt and eat her hair like spaghetti.”

I couldn’t understand his words but I knew that there was something wrong with what he was saying. I must have blanched for the manager said: “What is it? Who is this man?”
“I don’t know,” my eyes welled. “He’s saying rude things.”
“Like what?” the manager asked.
“I can’t say,” I said, tears running into my mouth.
“What did he say, what did he say?” Anna jumped up and down. “Lemme speak. Just tell him to shuddup!”

She grabbed the phone as the man said, “I want to touch your weewee.”Anna thought this was funny and burst out laughing. “The man says he wants to touch my weewee.”
“What?” exclaimed the manager, grabbing the receiver. “He said WHAT?”
He spoke into the phone, “Who is this? What do you want? I’m going to call the police.” The phone clicked, and the man rang off. The manager took me roughly by the arm and made me sit in his chair.
“What did the man say?”
I couldn’t say the words. I just held my ears and said: “Rude … rude things…”
“Like what?”
“He said he wanted to touch my weewee!” shouted Anna, ever the exhibitionist.
My teeth were chattering and I couldn’t say.
“Do you know him?”
I shook my head.
“Then how did he know you were here at the pool?” I didn’t know but Anna had to have her cent’s worth, “Maybe he followed us!”
By now a crowd had gathered and everyone wanted to know what had happened. “Please disperse,” the manager ordered. He gave me a tissue and said, “Shush, don’t cry. Where are your parents?”

I gave him my father’s number. When he called, I could hear my father shouting all the way from his office in the city.
The manager sent someone to get our clothes. In the meantime he called the police. A man in a blue uniform came and asked us the same questions over again. Didn’t I know the man? Who was he? How did he know we were at the pool? How did he know my name? Then at last my father arrived and he asked the same questions over again.
“Isaac”” he said! “I don’t even know an Isaac! He said he’s been to the house?”
At home, Daddy’s face was gray and Mommy kept saying: “Did you give anyone your name? Who did you tell that you were going to the pool? Did anyone touch you?”
She kept asking Daddy, “How could a thing like this happen?” Daddy said he wouldn’t rest till they’d find the bugger and he’d kill him.

Later my father went to question Siena in her room. I followed, hugging his heals. Sienna was sitting on her bed next to her wooden table with her head on her arms, crying because what had happened was her fault for allowing us to walk to the pool by ourselves. I climbed up and sat next to her with my hand in hers.
“Oh Sir,” she said, “Sandi … Anna – they like my own! If something happen to them—!”
“Yes, yes, Siena – but think. The man must have gotten the children’s names from someone. He said he’d been to the house.”
Siena shook her head. “I don’t know, Sir…I don’t know.” Then all of a sudden she said, “Houw!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Houw! A man did phone-!”
“Yes?”
He ask, “Is the Madam home? I told him Madam and Mr. Smith at work.”
“Was it a white man or a black? A Zulu?”
“Houw Sir – if it’s a black man I don’t tell nothing!”
“What else did he ask you?”
“He say, "Where the children?” I thought he is a relative. I tell him: “They gone to the pool Sir. The Zoo Lake swimming pool.”
“You didn’t think his questions a bit strange?” asked Daddy.

Siena crushed the white embroidered cloth on her table with her hand, looking frightened. “Sir, this white man phone and he tell me he want to see the children. I don’t ask questions; I just the maid!”
She told Daddy: “The man said, “I don’t remember the children’s names - tell me, what are their names?”
“So you told him?” Daddy asked with a sigh.
“Yes Sir, I tol’ him,” said Siena sadly, “I tol’ him they Sandy and Anna Smith.”

That night, I made my father walk around the garden twice to check that there was nobody lurking around the house. I made him close the curtains real tight and look in all the cupboards and under the bed. I made him leave the light on in the passageway outside my room.
I couldn’t fall asleep and kept hearing sounds… someone at the door… someone walking up the path, someone climbing on the roof. Uneasy, I crawled into my sister’s bed and held her hand. When sleep eventually overcame me, I dreamed of a storm with thunder and lightning. At the entrance to the zoo's lake swimming pool stood the stone angel, which bore Sienna’s face and was twisted into a horrible expression, making it impossible to tell whether she was screaming or crying. And when I awoke next morning, I felt sick and didn’t want to go to school.

[1] South African exclamation; slang.