Palesa had been on lockdown long before the president’s announcement. Lockdown was a way of life since she’d met “him”.

For six years she’d endured the beatings, the bruised body, frequent broken bones and accusations of whoring around.

But last night was the last straw, she thought, as she toyed with the cellphone in her hand, the shattered screen bearing the scars of her life.

He’d stumbled into the house. His breath foul, his temper worse.  Even in lockdown he managed to purchase liquor illegally.

He’d sworn at her and accused her of cheating on him. Palesa knew what followed as her life was on replay. He charged at her, threw her up against the wall and started to choke her. She crashed to the floor and hit her head as the image of her child swam before her.

Through the haze of pain, Palesa heard the resounding slap as her child’s pained screams pierced the night.

Despite her head hurting, Palesa got up off the floor and pounced on him. She punched and bit him. Clawed at his face and arms and paid the price for attacking him as he dragged her across the floor by her hair and kicked her repeatedly in her stomach.

As she lay at his mercy, Palesa vowed silently, if she lived through the night, she’d take Kea far away from him.

The sound of Kea moaning in her sleep interrupted Palesa’s thoughts. She caressed the bluish red swollen cheek of her daughter.

It started with a slap but Palesa was determined Kea’s life won’t be like hers.

It was time.

She typed furiously with clumsy fingers.

“Hello, Ma Thabi,” she sent the message and threw the phone on the bed as though it burned her hands.

What had she done?

What was she thinking?

If he found out, he would kill her.

No. I will kill him, she thought.

She had to get Kea out!

Palesa waited for a response with bated breath as she prowled around the room. Needing something to do, she walked to the small fridge and yanked the door open. A

yellowing cabbage, wrinkled skin potatoes and a box of spoilt milk greeted her. He never bought much in the way of food.

The beeping of her phone jarred Palesa as excitement coursed through her battered body. She tiptoed to the phone her breath ragged.

“Had enough?”

A sob escaped Palesa as she read the question.

She took a pained breath and typed.

“Yes.”

“Get yourself together,” was the response, “I am on my way.  We need to move fast.”

“What about lockdown?” Palesa typed.

Stage five lockdown rules meant no one could drive on the highway without a permit and if you did and were caught by the police, you were fined or worse thrown in jail.

Although, for Palesa, even jail was a welcome relief.

The phone beeped.

“Get ready,” the message read.

One didn’t argue with Ma Thabi. Ever since Palesa’s mother died at the hands of her lover, Ma Thabi seemed to have lost her mind as she blamed herself for her sister’s death.

Palesa stuffed the few items, she and her child possessed, into two shopping bags as her hands trembled.

At the sound of footsteps on the door stoep, she stopped and held her breath.

Was he home early?

God, no!

As an essential worker, he had to work.

Surely, they wouldn’t let him off early?

“Open the door, Palesa.”

Palesa cried with relief at the sound of Ma Thabi’s raspy voice.

She ran to the door and wrenched it open.

“My God!” exclaimed Ma Thabi as Palesa bowed her head in shame.

“Look at you,” said Ma Thabi as she surveyed the swollen face, the half-closed eyes.

“I will fucken kill him.”

Elaine Pillay

“No, Ma Thabi, just help me get Kea out.”

Ma Thabi pushed past Palesa, rushed to where Kea was sleeping, saw the bruised face and scooped the child in her arms.

“When did he start beating her?”

“Last night. That’s why I messaged you.”

“Come, my neighbour is waiting in the car.”

“Ma Thabi, the people in the yard will tell him I ran away.”

“I know.”

“He’ll come for me.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll be waiting for him.”

“Good.”

“Kea is the best thing in my life and I won’t let him break her.”

Ma Thabi smiled, nodded and walked out.

Palesa grabbed her belongings and rushed out the door not bothering to close it behind her.

“Ma Thabi, what about the police?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Palesa jumped into the rickety old car beside Ma Thabi.

“This is your first victory, sweetheart,” Ma Thabi whispered.

Palesa smiled with a wince and squeezed Ma Thabi’s hand as they drove off.

Elaine Pillay is a Durban born, award-winning author with a degree in English Literature. She is passionate about teaching and is an English Teacher. Elaine is also passionate about writing and has co-authored two academic books. Her first children’s book “Zwai and the. Little Creature” is an African fantasy and a bestselling book in South Africa. She also writes short stories which have been published in different anthologies. Elaine has
a great love for reading, travelling, nature, and watching old Hollywood movies. She lives in Johannesburg with her husband, Donald. They are enslaved by their two furbabies, Cola and Lily.