Chapter 13

Luyanda caught up with Nomsa as she trudged past the reception. He fell into step beside her, and they proceeded wordlessly through the doors, down the escalator and out of the History building. Nomsa finally broke the tense silence.
“Let’s go out on the lawn. I need some air.”
“I have to get to my coding class,” Luyanda replied. “I’ll catch up with you and Jabu later.”
“I can’t believe he stayed for that crap.”
“Neither can I. See you later.”
Luyanda had a free period after his IT period and before their lunch break. He should have gone back to the museum for a shift, but he holed up in the library for two hours, and then skipped the rest of his classes and went straight home. He needed time alone to think. For one thing, he had lost faith in Uru, and felt that the man was indoctrinating them.
Luyanda should have seen it coming. It was the logical conclusion of what Uru had been developing in their Slavery Elective. Luyanda hoped that there wouldn’t be any consequences to his walking out. Even though he disliked the man, Uru was still his boss, and Luyanda’s actions could have been deemed disrespectful. He decided against calling Jabu that evening and planned to corner him the following morning instead.

The next day, he caught up with Jabu roaming around the corridors, making his way towards their African Philosophy class.
“Jabz! Wait up!”
Jabu slowed down, and Luyanda fell into step beside him.
“Where did you go to yesterday?” Jabu asked. “You went AWOL.”
“My mum needed something urgently. What happened after Nomsa and I walked out?”
“Uru spoke for a short while then he ended the whole thing.”
“So you stayed?”
“Why not?” Jabu shot back. “What the guy said made sense.”
“And you agree with him?” A voice piped up behind them.
They spun around to find Nomsa tramping up to join them. Jabu didn’t answer.
“Do you agree with him?” Nomsa repeated.
Jabu shrugged. “You can’t say he’s entirely wrong, can you?”
“I don’t believe you.” Nomsa folded her arms and frowned. She turned to Luyanda. “Are you going in today? I feel kind of bad. It’s like I made everything awkward for everyone now.”
“It’s not your fault, Nomsa. He had it coming. I’ll let things cool down a bit before I go back there.”
“Good idea,” Nomsa replied. “I think I’ll do the same.”
Just then Nomsa’s PAD vibrated.
“Incoming text.”
She looked at it and groaned aloud.
“What is it?” Jabu asked.
“Uru,” she replied. “He wants to the two of us in his office now.” She nodded at Luyanda.
“Well, I guess your mind’s been made up for you,” Jabu smirked.
“But we have class,” Luyanda pointed out.
“I wouldn’t keep him waiting,” Jabu said. “Let me know how it goes.” He spun around and lumbered up the corridor towards the lecture room.
Luyanda turned to Nomsa. “We might as well get this over and done with.”
She nodded. They made their way to the museum and slunk past the reception. Amina sat behind the desk. Her beady eyes followed them as they trudged in. Nomsa and Luyanda both ignored her. They went straight to Uru’s office. His door was open, and they walked right in.
He was perched at his desk. He rose to his feet as soon as he saw the two of them, and spoke in measured tones, almost as if he had rehearsed what he was saying.
“I wanted to apologise for my tone in our last meeting.”
Nomsa and Luyanda exchanged a look. Nomsa cleared her throat. Luyanda clasped his hands behind his back, hoping that Uru would take it as an apologetic and respectful gesture. Uru continued.
“I have considered what you said,” he nodded at Nomsa, “and I think you may have a point. The long and the short of it is that I’m discontinuing the lectures.”
Luyanda didn’t know what to say. He glanced at Nomsa. She looked just as confused.
“That will be all,” Uru said and resumed his seat.
“Thank you, sir,” Nomsa said.
“Thank you,” Luyanda added and followed Nomsa out the door. As he was about to pull it shut, a thought struck him. He paused and turned around. “Sir?”
“Yes?” Uru’s head snapped up.
Luyanda stepped back into the office. “There is an artefact that came in the other day. It seemed a bit strange and I just wanted to—”
“Was it on the list?”
“No.”
“Then get rid of it.”
“It’s just that -” He paused, searching for the right words.
“Just what?”
“Nothing,” Luyanda replied. “I’ll toss it. Thank you.”
He shut the door behind him and joined Nomsa in the hallway.
“What was that about?” Nomsa asked.
“You mean the artefact I asked about—”
“Who cares? I’m talking about the apology! He just apologised to us and took an about-turn on the lectures. Why would he do that?”
None of them could come up with a plausible reason as they made their way to the African Philosophy lecture. They snuck in through the back door and squeezed into two empty spots behind Jabu.
He craned his neck towards them and mouthed the question, “How did it go?”
Luyanda gave him a thumbs up. As soon as the class ended, they brought Jabu up to speed on everything. Luyanda couldn’t help but note the look of disappointment on Jabu’s face.
“Yeah,” Jabu ventured, when they had finished telling him what happened, “I guess he reconsidered.”
“Maybe,” Luyanda answered, as they walked out the lecture room and made their way to the next class.
“There’s something I need to ask you,” Luyanda said to Jabu as they proceeded down the hallways.
“What?”
“Remember that stool that came in the other day?”
“Yeah?”
“Please could you toss it for me?”
“Why can’t you do it yourself?”
“Because I already unboxed it after you knocked off early. And I think I’m allergic to something on its surface. It made me feel off the past couple of days. And I don’t know what it is, but I’m not touching it again.”
“So you want me to break out in hives?”
“No, you won’t. Just do it for me, please?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay.”
“Thank you,” he said, and fell silent as a wave of emptiness welled up and gnawed away at his insides, as if he were saying goodbye to a good friend whom he would never see again.
He shook off the feeling, veered into a corridor and proceeded to his next class - Post Colonial Urban Studies with Dr Kanu.

The exhibition opened on that first weekend of November. Visitors flocked to the museum in droves. Luyanda was thankful that he hid not have to handle any tour alone. He was certain he would have fluffed it up. He and Jabu assisted Amina, and Nomsa shadowed Yisa.
Yisa and Amina would take turns conducting the tours. They would happen one after another, like a well-choreographed dance. Each tour would last half an hour, and then the next one would start. In that way, no visitors would have to wait for over thirty minutes. Amina’s grasp of all the details of the displays left Luyanda impressed.
“The Heroes Gallery,” she would begin as she led the visitors down the ramp, “is dedicated to mythical heroes drawn from all over Africa. It aims to preserve, protect and promote the richness of the cultures it represents. From Southern Africa, we have the mythical queen Modjadji. In centuries past they referred her to as the Rain Queen. Reputed to control weather phenomena, she could call down rain, wind and thunder. This is an artist’s impression of what she would have looked like. Pay attention to the details of her head and neck jewellery, typical of the fashion of the area. The copper anklet in the display case is a recent find. The intrepid anthropologist P.K. Mbuya went to great lengths to retrieve it. All records of its existence had been destroyed during the Sino-African war.”
After following her around for three tours, Luyanda felt confident enough to attempt one on his own. It went better than expected. After a few hiccups, he got into the groove of things. But he couldn’t compare to Nomsa. She was a natural. Luyanda watched in awe as she captivated audiences with her narration skills. Jabu, however, seemed to struggle throughout the day. When Amina announced that the museum would close in forty-five minutes, he heaved a very audible sigh of relief.
It had been a long day, and Luyanda couldn’t wait to get home. As soon as he stepped into the kitchen where his parents were fixing dinner, he dropped his backpack and collapsed into the seat.
“Agua. Por favor.”
Maddie poured him a glass of water and settled herself down beside him.
“So? How’d it go?”
Luyanda guzzled down the water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“It was great, thanks. What’s for dinner? It smells delicious.”
“Beef stew,” Devon replied, stirring the pot on the stove.
“We should go and see it, Dev, don’t you think?”
“See what?”
“Your son’s exhibition! Haven’t you been listening?”
“Oh… When is it closing?”
“Not anytime soon,” Luyanda replied, “It was so successful that Dr Uru decided to buy the artefacts and make it our permanent exhibition.”
“Well done,” Devon beamed.
Luyanda scowled.
“But isn’t that fantastic news?” Maddie asked.
“I’m not too sure about that,” Luyanda answered. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

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