Iqunga

He is speaking in a hushed tone, as if this is a forbidden subject.

“He said there were twins here, boys. He said their father died on the day they were born,”

He stops and squints as if trying to remember something.

“I’m not sure if I’m getting the story right, nut there were other twins before, but they all died. The father must have done something because these two lived, only them, and then he died. They were good children, that’s what my father said, but then one day, they must have been 14 years old…”

He stops when he hears gasps.

“what happened? What did they do?” Qhawe asks.

“they killed a priest. He was one of those that were recruiting people to join a church and most people here believed him and followed him. He built a school and stuff. The twins went to that school too. But he must have made them very angry because…

“How did they kill him?” – Mqhele.

The man shrugs before he speaks.

“From what I was told, they slit his throat and left him sitting on a chair, bleeding to death.”

There’s silence.

The man is telling the story like it is an urban legend, but they know, it is a familiar one.

“Is what what you wanted to know?” the man asks, looking at Sisekelo.

He doesn’t answer.

“So, what happened to the twin’s mother? Qhawe asks.

The man sighs deeply.

“They burnt her alive,”