When it's all said and done, I always leave the city lights and return to my real life, under a tree in the corner of the yard with my mother.

She's not been feeling well for a long time, I do everything I can to take care of her and I am failing epically. I feel like I'm just sitting, watching the tide slowly go out and there's nothing I can do about it.

I should've at least gotten us away from this rot a long time ago, I was our only hope and what am I doing? Cleaning the toilet of some perfumed, pompous rich asshole.

And now I'm not even doing that anymore. I got fired by that man and I'm left with one income that costs more than it pays.

I sigh loudly, turning the page of my sketch pad. Even this is not helping today. It's the only way I know how to distract myself from my own thoughts buy its not working.

I've been sketching clothes since I knew how to hold a pencil, there are hundreds of these books around our house.

House being a nice word for the little three-roomed shack I share with my mom and my little brother who I haven't seen in days but that's an issue for another day.

Today is just me and my mom, doing nothing but drinking iced water from a 2litre Coke bottle to cool from the January heat.

She's just looking down the street and I'm drawing away my demons, trying to shut out all my thoughts and focus on this one thing I'm in control of.

I first got into drawing clothes because I couldn't afford the ones I really wanted so when I was younger I would spend hours fantasizing and drawing all the clothes I would wear if I could.

My mother saw this and her being a seamstress taught me how to cut, seam and sew fabric. I never went to fashion school but I know more about making clothes than most people in the industry.

My grandmother, God rest her sweet soul, told me that I don't need a formal education to make clothes, and to encourage me to keep this flame burning she gave me her sewing machine that she got from her mother when they were mandated by the government back in school to take sewing classes.

People get only one guardian angel, but I was blessed with two-- my grandma and my mother. Because of them I have clothes on my back and food on my table, most of the clothes I make I wear, others I sell around the neighbourhood. I have a sufficient amount of customers because around here not many people can even afford Pep store.

"I hear uDorothy has another child," My mother says, "At her age, she's going to be a hundred by the time that child makes it to Grade one."

I look up to find Sis'Dorothy walking down the our streets with her 4 kids in tow and a baby on her back, all looking like they haven't had a bath or change of clothes in a few days.

"uBab' Mlungisi is going for a soccer team with substitutes," I join in and we chuckle to ourselves.

I should get off the pad and talk to her more but she'll know that there's something on mind, and I haven't told her that I've lost the job in the city yet.

All she knows is that the boss is back and I haven't been going in lately but I've been keeping myself busy with chores around the yard to not have to look her in the eye and tell her that I lost yet another job.

She can't work anymore, she's always so sick and it's up to me to make sure that we eat, bath, and sleep.

I keep dropping the ball.

I don't know what I'm gonna do.

My phone rings before we can say anything else, I try ignoring it but mother insists that I answer.

Might be important, she says.

The only important thing is a job and they don't call on Saturday afternoons. And I haven't received any feedback from any of the jobs I keep applying for.

I answer anyway because I always do what my mother says.

It's one of my friends telling me that the whole bunch is over at busy corner and I have to join them because they haven't seen me in days. I refuse, I'm not in the mood and I want to spend more time with my mother.

Said mother insists that I go.

"Ma, you know I don't like leaving you alone," I whine to her.

"You're not even here Enhle," She says softly, "Your mind is far away, you need to see your friends. Maybe they can help with whatever is worrying you so. I'll be fine."

I sigh and rub my forehead, of course she noticed that I am stressed. I have been quiet and gloomy all day and haven't contributed much to our gossip session.

"Don't worry, I am fine and I will be fine when you get back," She adds.

I feel guilty for leaving her, I always feel guilty for leaving her.

I take a deep breath and relax back in our handmade bench that was a gift from Sifiso.

I am so not in the mood to walk all the way there in this scorching heat just to see those heifers and there's no way I am paying for a taxi.

"Go, I have to go pay the stokvel anyway," She carries on despite my silence.

"I'll go pay," I immediately offer, I don't like her walking around alone.

She once fainted in the streets while I was in the city, and it was by an act of God that I didn't piss myself.

"I have to leave this yard at some point Enhle," She argues, "It'll do me good."

And I get her point but...

She is not taking no for an answer, this woman is as stubborn as me. So I stand up and go inside the house to put away my sketching pad and get an umbrella which is going to do nothing for this heat.

"And Enhle," She stops me by the small gate, "Try to relax please mntwana'wam."

She always says that I am a very impatient person which is not completely untrue, and that God works on His own time.

I wish I had even a little of the same faith that she does, unfortunately I was born an impetuous person. I want things to be done when I want them to be done, I don't have the strength to wait for things to be better.

She has strength enough for the both of us and I just have to trust that she is right, that things will eventually turn around for us.

I went to college to better our circumstances, not to sit around and wait for some miracle.

I give her a small smile and a hug before leaving out the gate.

The walk to busy corner is something through seven hells, the umbrella isn't helping shit like u predicted. I don't mind the sun, never had but the heat-- I hate sweating. I hate being sticky.

I zigzag through the confined streets of our little overpopulated community greeting everyone I come across as we all know each other here, people are blasting radios in their small barely there shacks, and yelling and shouting, and there's a train that's speeding on the tracks just outside our settlement.

The train track is used to separate our slum from the big houses in but the whole neighbourhood shakes when it train goes by.

I come across three girls I went to school with, I'd smile and keep walking but the way one of them says my name has me stopping dead in my tracks.

"Imani Olifant, nguwe lo?" . Said dripping with disdain.

"Sho?" I'm ghetto and I don't care.

"Haven't seen you around. What's up? Heard you don't work in the city anymore," They're prying. Gossipy bitches.

"Heard you were cleaning toilets..." The other says laughing under her breath.

They've never worked a day in their lives. They live off their parents, men and the government. I'm not about to stand here and be judged by the likes of them.

"Remember when we used to be compared to her yoohh?" One says to the others and they laugh.

"Even our parents tlhe yoh!"

"He he be more like Imani. He he Imani has a future, Imani is gonna go far in life. Where? Ha!" This one hates me for a guy I wasn't even dating.

I don't bother with a retort. I have two degrees while two thirds of them didn't even finish school so they should in no way think we're on the same level.

If we all go apply for the same job tomorrow, I have a better chance of being hired.

"Are you guys done?" I ask when they finally pipe down and are left with dumb smirks on their faces, "Finally feel better about yourselves now?"

They don't respond.

They can judge me all they like but they'd never even set foot in the parking lot of that building I used to work in. All they'll never know is this rot and shit we call home.

I will get out, I will get my family out. Even if it's just moving over the train tracks.

I start walking away from them, "I mean I personally don't mind walking past trash but when it starts feeling like it can talk to me like we're the same..." I leave it just like that, takes them a while to catch on and by the time they're angry, I'm near the tarred road.

I'm not running away, I'm not scared of them. They can follow, I can take them all-- fists and words.

Cars and taxis and the occasional bus zoom past. Some full, some with just the driver. Some blasting music, some very quiet. Some honk at me and some just go about their business.

One almost runs me over as I cross the road.

It's my fault, I didn't check the road twice.

Too busy trying to not let those girls' words get to me.

I mean, I busted my ass through school and university, got myself in mountains of loans, sacrificed precious time of my life just to end up here with nothing to show for it... all that money and time. Literal blood, sweat and tears.

I can't even feel sorry for myself. No time.

I am glad to find my friends sitting outside under a garden umbrella so I don't have to go inside to look for them, I can't deal with people grabbing me and trying to talk to me today. The walk here was long and hot and I'm already in the worst mood.

Rea is the first one to notice me; she stands up and does a little run to me to give me a tight hug.

She's a short little yellow thing with big hazelbrown eyes that seem to always be gleaming for some reason, "Hey Ima," She says in that sweet voice of hers.

She is the only one who grew up outside of Gauteng, Northern Cape to be exact. I've never been but I hope to one day.

"Hey hey babe," I say closing my umbrella to return her hug.

She's youngest and the smartest of us, and she looks like a little caramel doll.

I pinch her little chubby cheek and smile at her, she swats my hand away and pulls out a chair for me.

Nandi, my best friend and former roommate, is at the table. I give her a hug as well.

She is a through and through kasi girl, born and bred in Soweto. We are the same height and are kind of close in looks, constantly mistaken for sisters.

She is just a shade lighter than me, a little more coffee to my mocha, with round dark brown eyes that she has lined with brown liner to make them pop a little. Her makeup is a little more natural than Rea's who goes all out when it comes to makeup.

"I didn't think you'd come," Nandi says just as I go give Mariska a hug.

"I almost didn't," I say with a little sigh, "Here is far, why didn't you wait for me by the road?."

"I came from the opposite direction, sorry loving."

I nod and dismiss the issue, can't believe these heifers made me walk all the way here when they have cars and I don't. I'll make them pay for this later in life. I never forget.

"What are you doing here anyway?" I say shoving my umbrella under the chair since the table is filled with drinks, tablets and cellphones, purses and sunglasses and snacks. There's no space for anything of mine.

I must not forget it, or else I'll never hear the end of it from that lady I live with.

"We came to see you," Mariska answers in a very duh tone like I should know that the only reason they'd be on this side of the city is to see me.

Mariska is the only white girl in the group, she used to be room with Rea in college before Rea moved in with Zo and it was all very dramatic. We were all on the netball team together.

Actually, we're friends because of that netball team otherwise some of us would have never met.

"I'm flattered, but what is the occasion?" I ask and look around the table, "And is there anything on the table without alcohol in it?"

"Of course not," Rea says lifting a bottle of Heineken to her lips.

I frown at her and her green bottle, "Aren't you guys driving?"

She sits back in her chair and sighs, "I'm not, I slept over at Zo's so she's driving."

"I don't even want to know what you guys did last night," Nandi chimes in.

Speaking of Zo, "Where the hell is she anyway?" My eyes search around for my vixen of a friend just to find her by the bar dancing a little and talking to a guy who is leaning way too close to whisper in her ear.

"At the bar, hoeing," Risky says taking a sip of whatever alcoholic beverage is in her glass.

Even though Zo and I didn't like each other for the longest time, we're good now but her and Mariska are a wound too deep.

She was actually raised in the city while the rest of us were raised on the outskirts. As a result she's nothing short of a force this friend of mine.

I watch her walk to us with a tray of drinks and a smile on her face.

"Ima," She all but squeals and sets the tray down to come around and give me a hug.

By the way they're acting, you'd think they hadn't seen me in years and it's only been a few days.

"A cooldrink for you," She hands me a can of Fanta which I immediately open and gulp down because I am that thirsty and ask another.

I look around and realize that I am the only one who is dressed down if you can even call this dressed-- my face is bare, I have my big hair pushed down under a cap, no jewellery whatsoever, flipflops on my feet and I have on a grey spaghetti top and grey leggings.

"You guys came all the way out here to drink?" I ask them.

"And eat," Rea says, "Zo, where's that guy of yours who's braaing?"

Now that makes me smile, "And who's paying?"

"Not important," Rea answers.

"That's the beauty of it," Zo of course answers.

I laugh and raise a glass to them. I wish life was that easy for me, that I could just get someone to pay for anything I want. I probably can but I am suspicious of everything, I don't take from someone what I can't pay back. I don't ever want to be indebted to anyone.

And around these parts of the world, debt could very well cost you your life.

"How goes the job things by the way?" Nandi asks me.

"I'm going again tomorrow to send my c.v around, hopefully I'll get something, anything," I'm not even picky. If I have to clean toilets to put food on the table, I'm going to wash toilets to put food on the table... at least until something better comes along.

Being poor sucks, but sitting and crying about being poor won't magically make it better.

"Wait, what happened to that job at that rich guy's flat?" Zodwa asks me.

I really do not want to discuss me right now, I need a break from my troubles, "I got fired."

"What did you do?" Rea asks like she already knows that it's my fault which it is but fuck her for just assuming.

"Her big mouth happened," Nandi informs them, "I think they called her a prostitute or something."

I roll my eyes at that, "They were being disrespectful but that guy is just rude."

"And you are not?" Zodwa speaks again.

"I think that's it," Risky raises her opinion, "He was probably rude and you were obviously rude right back and your big mouth got you fired."

Okay, fuck them all.

"I don't want to talk about me."

"Ding ding ding!" Rea sings and laughs, "I mean, I'd probably get fired too if someone called me a hooker to my face but..."

"Lots of people have called you a hooker to your face Rea," Nandi says rolling her eyes.

"And those lots of people have lost a tooth," Rea responds.

Nandi frowns, "You've never fought anyone for calling you a whore."

"Yeah but Zo has, same thing," is Rea's response and she can't be more right. She and Zo are joined to the hip, much to Mariska's chagrin.

"Okay then but, Imani is still without a job..." Nandi points out.

"And we'll finesse her a proper one, as her friends," Zodwa says taking a sip of beer as well, "She's too smart, too pretty, and too educated to be cleaning after some rich, white man. By the way Ima, Brie? Not your friend."

She's said it before. Brie knows my qualifications, I graduated top three of my class and the only job she could help me out with was a cleaner for her... boyfriend? Is he really even that? Not even a secretary, or an assistant... but a cleaner.

If I had any other options, and didn't have a family to take care of, I definitely would've looked that gift horse straight in the mouth. Un-f-lin-ching-ly.

But I needed the money desperately, and it was honest work... much better on a CV than what these ones do, that's for sure.

Before I can speak two shadows fall on the table making me look up only to see two faces that I dread seeing ever in my life. I don't want any interaction with these people unless completely necessary.

"Imani?" Tsholo says in what sounds like disbelief, "Ja neh."

Her sister laughs and ckaoa her hands in incredulity I guess, "Out for drinks when you told us you work all the time?" She claps her hands again, "Haaike."

I can't refrain from rolling my eyes.

"Askies, bo sisters," Zodwa calls their attention, "Niyanya or..."

"Hee?" Tsholo is the first to react to Zo's words.

"Zo," Nandi cuts her off and shakes her head at her.

Zo keeps quiet but she is fuming at the amount of disrespect that has just been rained on me unprovoked.

Masego and Tsholo look at each other, probably doing the math in their heads-- 2 against 5... goodluck to them. And they know these are Jozi girls, they don't take shit. They stab first and ask if it hurts after.

"Qubeka uphuze mntase, re tla kopana," Masego mocks before walking away with her sister in tow.

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. I've held my tongue a lot today, and responding to these ones will just come back to bite me in the ass. Slumwhores are as slumwhores do after all. And Tsholo and Masego are friends with those three I came across on my way here.

They hate me with a passion. It's hilarious if anything.

Those three dumb hoes, I don't mind as much. These two... I need to be careful with.

"Who are those dirty bitches?" Rea asks.

"Vivid's older sisters," Nandi tells them and gives me a look, "But can we please get our meat now? Zo? When are we going to eat?"

Zo knows that we are trying to avoid the topic but plays along nonetheless, "Yeah, pap or rolls?"

"Obvious pap hawu," That comes from me, like I walked all this way in the sun to eat bread. I want pap and the ladies that cook here make the smoothest pap yeses. I can't wait to eat now.

Zo leaves the table with Rea to go get our food, while we send Mariska to go ask for water to wash our hands because there's no way we are eating pap and steak with a spoon. Ngeke. Not when we are home.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Nandi checks, "You just seem..."

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

"Okay?" She says questioningly, "Oh, I stopped by the market and got some fresh produce, remind me when I drop you off."