Chapter 10: The Hostel Life

 

Narrated by Qondanisa Qwabe

Mzo drove us through the busy streets of Johannesburg in his taxi after picking me up from Park Station. The city felt even louder up close, with cars hooting, people rushing, and everything moving like it had no time to rest.

After a short drive, we arrived at a hostel where he was staying. It was not fancy, but it was practical. Long corridors, many rooms, and the sound of different lives happening at the same time.

“This is home for now,” Mzo said as he parked. “But don’t worry, bafo, things will change for you quickly here.”

I followed him inside with my small bag. When we entered the room, there were three other men already there. Mzo smiled and introduced me.

“Gentlemen, this is my cousin Qondanisa from KwaMashu. The best mechanic you will ever meet.”

One of them stood up immediately and shook my hand.

“Ngiyajabula ukukwazi, my brother,” he said warmly.

Mzo pointed to each one as he introduced them.

“This is Zulu, Dladla, and Zungu.”

Each man greeted me with respect, smiling like they had been waiting for someone like me.

“Eish, finally!” Zulu said, laughing. “Now our taxis will stop giving us stress.”

Dladla nodded. “We have been suffering, my friend. You came at the right time.”

Zungu added, “Life will be easier now, bafo.”

I looked around the room. It was a shared space with a small kitchen corner and a separate sleeping area. There were four beds lined up,  and simple sponge mattresses placed on metal frames.

Mzo pointed at sponge. “This one is yours, Qondanisa.”

I nodded, that night, I did not argue or complain. I just laid my sponge down properly. There was no way I would share a bed with my cousin. There are things men do not explain. Ngeke ngithintwe izinqa zenye indoda.

Mzo laughed at me. “Hai, bafo, you are acting like you are in a hotel.”

I shook my head. “No, I just like my space.”

The others laughed lightly, but they understood. I slept that night on the sponge. It was not comfortable like home, but it was enough for now. The next morning, Mzo woke me early.

“Come, bafo,” he said. “Today I will show you the city properly.”

I got ready quickly and followed him outside.

We drove through Johannesburg, and everything still felt new to me. Tall buildings, busy roads, and people everywhere. The city did not slow down for anyone.

The first place he took me to was KwaMai-Mai Market. When we arrived, the smell of grilled meat filled the air. People were laughing, talking, and enjoying themselves. It was alive in a way I did not expect.

“Welcome to real Johannesburg culture,” Mzo said proudly. We walked through the market stalls until we found a place to sit and eat.

"Bafo, this is where we eat properly—not like those fancy restaurants with their tiny, overpriced plates," he said.

I nodded and looked at the plates of meat being served.

I smiled slightly. “Ngiyabona. ”

We ordered and sat down. While we ate, the atmosphere around us felt relaxed. People greeted each other freely, speaking in different languages and dialects.

Mzo laughed. “You will get used to this life, Qondanisa. Just relax, man. Don’t be too serious all the time.”

I took a bite of the meat and nodded.

“It is good,” I admitted.

He laughed. “Yebo! I told you. Johannesburg knows how to treat a man.”

As we ate, I looked around at the crowd again. Even though everything was new, I could already feel myself adjusting slowly.

Life here was different, but it was still life.