LAW FOR ALL recently hosted a writing competition called "Write the future, right the wrongs".
The three winning entries are published on LAW FOR ALL’s website. LAW FOR ALL granted LitNet permission to publish the seven other entries of the Top 10 in the coming seven weeks. Below is "Brave" by Monnica Rampine.
Picture of Monicca Rampine: provided
I hope you forgive me, Ma. I thought this was the only way to make the pain go away. Saving your life by putting mine on the line. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?
Rain has just poured outside, and the sun starts to crack through the clouds. My wet footsteps leave a trail as I enter the gate at home. I go into the house and take off my school bag. I find Thabo in a dirty white vest with his belly hanging out, watching TV and drinking beer. I see Ma kneeling down on him, sewing his pants at the ankles. I pay no attention to this and walk to my room.
It wasn’t always like this. He treated us nicely and took good care of us when we first moved in with him. Things started to take a turn when he realised that Ma was desperate for his love and security and that she would do anything.
In the evening, I lay my head on a pillow and watch the rain fall on the window.
Bang! Bang!
My breathing stops. I glance at the door, it swings open and Thabo enters. At the sound of his belt buckle coming off, I silently stiffen. He turns me over, my heart drops and he jumps hard on me. There it goes again; the race begins. I tilt my head to the window; the rain now pelts against the window. I clutch tightly onto the sheets, my lower lip starts to tremble, an intense current rips through me, I can’t breathe; I keep holding on, but I don’t think I will make it this time. Something thick inside starts to ascend: hurt, disgust, anger, misery, all combined. It’s rising high in my trachea; I don’t think I will keep holding this in any longer. Another heavy current rips through me. I can’t do this any more, I have to let it out, I need to be free!
It’s over! The race is over. I swallow all of that and take a great gulp of air to breathe.
"Good girl." He pats my butt as he exits.
I sit up on the bed and watch my hands shake like an earthquake.
Ma pours me hot water in the tub; I step in and sit down to hug my knees to my chest. She takes a sponge and scrubs my back so hard that it doesn’t hurt any more. She keeps on forgetting one thing: the hurt is deep inside, and hot water and scrubbing won’t make the pain go away. She always opens her mouth to utter, but the words jam in her throat; she kisses me on the head, and a tear rolls down my cheek. I have just saved her for the night.
At sunrise, I’m already up, sprinting across the streets. I love the morning breeze, as the wind brushes over my face.
I get to the house; I find the door slightly open. I push the door open, calling Ma. I look across this messed-up house; everything is on the floor, broken. I spot stains of blood on the floor. I follow them and stop at the couch; I look behind the couch and find Ma lying helplessly on the floor, her face bleeding. I kneel down and shake her lightly; her hand moves a little. I hear him entering the room; I lift my head.
"What have you done?" I try hard not to cry, but it is there in my voice.
My hands begin to shake in terror; my hands clench into strong fists for the first time. I walk up to him.
"Don’t be brave; just go to your room."
I bring my hands up to my face. I motion to punch him in the face; he grabs my hand tightly and laughs. I throw a punch across his face with my other hand; he stumbles and falls onto the couch. I grab him and attack him relentlessly with massive blows; he keeps his hands up, trying to block my blows. He manages to squeeze his thumbs into my eyes and slams me hard onto the coffee table. He picks me up and headbutts me; I fall to the ground. He leans towards me and laughs; I strike him on the throat as I get onto my feet like lightning. I brush his face onto my knee, and he bangs onto the floor. I look at his bloody face; he blinks, regaining consciousness. I move to the TV stand and struggle a bit to pick up the TV; I turn to him and drop the TV onto him, and it smashes his face.
After a long silence, I look up and admire the whole room full of people looking right at me. I see Ma among the people. I have just told everyone the whole truth. I walk off the stand and go back to my chair, next to my high-profile lawyer provided by the government.
The judge comes back from his chambers. Someone shouts, "All rise." I can’t feel my legs; everything is just blurry as tears fill my eyes.
The judge clears his throat. "Before I give my verdict, I would like to state that a verdict made by a judge isn’t based only on what he or she said. The government has dedicated its capital and resources to putting more effort into any case of the rich or poor. Investigations are done thoroughly with expertise. Just because someone died, it doesn’t automatically mean that the person who killed them is a murderer; there’s self-defence to protect yourself from monsters. Therefore, in the case of Nana Tsubella, I find Nana not guilty." The judge bangs the gavel and leaves for his chambers.
A smile breaks over my face as I hear the cheering in the court. Ma jumps on me, and we embrace. She whispers in my ear, "I’m so, so sorry." I break into tears.
Read an interview with Jackie Nagtegaal on the outcome of the competition.
The winning entry of the competition was: "When I dream of a future" by Belita Andre
The second prize went to "The image of justice: a double duplex", by Nomyezo Mqhele
Third prize went to "The commute", by Sesetu Holomisa
Herewith the names of the Top 10 entries:
- "Exit" by Maretha Maartens
- "Green" by Naomi Meyer
- "Breath of law" by Inga Ntantala
- "Say something" by Harry Owen
- "Brave" by Monicca Rampine
- "When justice meant the world had to stop, so Ayanda could dream" by Sumayya Mohamed
- "Nqo" by Siyabulela Javu