Inside Nobuhle’s apartment back in Johannesburg, her television looked like it had been left on for days. A show continued on the TV with a white lady in a one on one interview. Nobuhle entered the apartment looking tired after the long trip from Cape Town. Shortly someone knocked on the door. She dropped her bags and moved over to open only to find that it was her neighbour, the fat lady from next door. "Hey Nobuhle… where have you been?" she mumbled "Just say what you want!" Nobuhle replied dismissively. "Your Nigerian friends... They were here..." she said "I heard them saying, where is this woman? Where is she!?" The lady babbled in fear. Without saying a word, Nobuhle shut the door and rushed back inside the house. She switched the TV off then started to clean the apartment removing every junk she was uncomfortable with. Every used and unused pack of condoms or cigarettes she dumped into the waste bin. Finally she pulled out the smallest of her luggage and quickly threw in some cloths. Thirty minutes later, Nobuhle arrived at Mr. Noel’s supermarket with her luggage. To her good surprise, someone had started helping the old man in the shop. A young boy who was busy serving customers while Mr. Noel wrapped for the day. "You got someone helping you?" Nobuhle asked looking at the boy. “He’s a good boy. I got him from the street." Mr. Noel replied "What's his name?" "Ayanda." He said Nobuhle smiled and looked at the boy once more. "So where have you been?" Mr. Noel asked. "I need a place to stay." Nobuhle replied looking a bit ashamed. "What happened to your place?" The old man responded "I don't want to go back there. I can’t" Nobuhle replied in a tired voice "Nobuhle, what's going on?" "Can you please help me? Please" Nobuhle asked with her gaze fixed at Mr. Noel. He got a little confused knowing he Nobuhle really needed help to get back to her best. Without much of a worry he agreed to have Nobuhle join him and Ayanda at his cottage in Melville, just fifteen minutes’ drive away from the supermarket. At home, Mr. Noel prepared some food and served on the dining table along with a plate full of well-grilled red meat. As they all start to eat happily, Nobuhle got curious and thought she should know more about Ayanda. "So what's your name?" She asked glancing at him and at the same time trying to eat her food. "Ayanda." The boy replied "Where are you from?" "Alex." "I'm from Gugulethu." Nobuhle said urging Ayanda to look at her and smile. "So where's your mother?" "I don't have a mother." The boy said in his faint voice. "What happened to her? Your mother?" "She's dead. She died in December." "Did she die of Aids? Nobuhle asked and Ayanda noded his head, "yes" "How did she get it? You know? You know she got it?" Nobuhle continued curiously but this time Ayanda wasn’t sure. All he knew was his mother died of Aids. Just in that moment Nobuhle’s phone started to ring throwing her into a smashing shock that got even worse the instant she noticed it was Jay-Jay who was calling. "Nobuhle my love...Where are you?" Jay-Jay asked over the phone "What do you want?" Nobuhle responded holding the phone to her ear as she rushed over to the corridor. "When am I getting my money? I have more chocolate for you. This one is straight from Bangkok. You will like it" Jay-Jay said playing according to his plan to get hold of Nobuhle and retrieve all the money owed to him. But unfortunately for him Nobuhle had heard enough. She ended the call and put the phone off. Just before she could catch her breath, Mr. Noel walked in with Ayanda, looking at her as if the house had just been broken into. "Are you okay?" The old man asked "Yes. Am fine. I’m okay." Nobuhle managed to cover up "Okay. So you're going to work in the morning right?" "Yes. I have to" Nobuhle replied but without doubt, the old man could tell something was wrong. He and Ayanda looked at Nobuhle with sympathy and decided to go finish their meal in the dining room.
On the face of the increasing tension, Nobuhle resumed her daily job at the hotel. She arrived from the airport with a newly wedded Ghanaian couple on holiday in South Africa. Meanwhile a number of very inquisitive European and Chinese tourists stood around the reception chatting with the hotel manager about a free tour they saw on the hotel’s website. The Ghanaian couple wore stylish uniform Kumasi traditional attire celebrating their marriage. The woman had a shiny fabric tied on her hair making her husband even more proud and honoured to be holding her hand. They both smiled at the other tourists with pride and turned to their attendant. Nobuhle got a set of keys from Debbie in the reception and showed the couple to their reserved room upstairs. Meantime Rossi was sitting off by himself in the restaurant. As is his custom, he kept watching Nobuhle who after showing the African couple to their room, was quickly approached by the hotel manager. "Hello Nobuhle we have a little problem. Good job by the way, with the couple. Where are they from?" "Ghana. They're from Ghana" Nobuhle replied "Oh Ghana?" "Yes sir. This is their first visit to South Africa and it’s their honeymoon" Nobuhle said and the manager grinned as if he really cared. "Anyway, Nobuhle I'm having some guests saying they're not aware of the Cape Town tour. What’s happening?" He said "Debbie and I are still working on printing some pamphlets." Nobuhle replied "You know what? We need to print these pamphlets and hand them to every guest that comes in" The manager advised regarding some Korean tourists waiting to talk to him about the same Cape Town tour. At the restaurant Rossi dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and left to his room. Shortly afterwards Nobuhle appeared in the hallway looking very serious like her mind was made up on resolving her problems once and for all. She made a beeline down the hallway moving pass a cleaner on duty. Nobuhle stopped at room 28 and knocked on the door. She knocked a second time and the door was pulled open. Rossi appeared across staring at her. "I'll do it." Nobuhle said. Rossi pulled the door wide and led her inside the room. Clearly he was not surprised. He knew Nobuhle would eventually come to him. "Can I get you anything?" he asked "No thanks" She responded "Alright, I need to use the bathroom. I'll be right back." Rossi said stepping inside the bathroom while Nobuhle sat on the bed. In a moment, he came out in his towel and reached a closet in the room. Nobuhle kept looking at his upper body until he finally put on the uniform he usually used in all the countries and hotels he had been. He pulled out a huge wad of Euro, a hard currency and split some amount out. "Action speaks louder than words, they say. How are you feeling?" He asked handing Nobuhle the money. "You know I have a problem of carrying a lot of cash with me when I travel?" He picked up a bag and moved across to the other end of the room where he had his special chair, portable enough to be carried around. "I don't like being like that. I don't like having to watch over money" He said as he laid out his special effects tools and material. "The thing is, I like to make money. I like to work for every cent I receive. That's what making money is about. To me there's one good thing in being a able to make money. Now don't get me wrong. There are differences between making money and getting money." "What's the difference?" Nobuhle asked seated on the bed and just watching as Rossi continued to talk over her. "The money you get is given to you either as a gift or a bond in which something is expected." He said "On the other hand, the money you're making, is what you have to work for. There's only one really good thing about money, guess what? The feeling of knowing the money you have is what you have worked for. That's the finest appreciation of money. The feeling of knowing the money you have, belongs to you hundred percent" "So does that make you happy?" Nobuhle asked "There was a time when I didn't know how to make money. I was never happy." he replied "Why were you not happy?" "That's just how it is. Money and happiness are like husband and wife." "Is that what you think?" "That's not what I think. That's what I know." Rossi said positioning a black background on some meters behind the portable chair in the room. "Okay. This is what I need right now. I need your top off and sit on the chair. Be careful with the chair. It’s aluminium." Rossi continued, moving over to a table where he got a bigger print of the painting he was working with. Nobuhle started to strip off her clothes as told. Her blouse fell on the floor while her sexy little skirt slipped off. She undressed down to her underwear and Rossi was stunned. Perhaps he never thought it would be that easy for him. Or maybe he was just stunned seeing the beautiful texture of Nobuhle’s plunging neckline and her white lace underwear which outlined all the right curves in all the right places. Nobuhle took a seat on the aluminium chair allowing Rossi to model across her breast, a double stretch of scars. "This is what I do. This is what I do, in all the countries and the hotels I've been." He said very calmly. "Why me?" Nobuhle asked "You have a face, capable of different things" Rossi replied making sure Nobuhle remained submissive. "Do you have a girlfriend?" She asked but this time Rossi didn’t answer. He ignored totally and moved over to the widow. He pulled a string and a sun blind rolled over the window cutting out the daylight. Finally Rossi crossed his legs on the armchair positioned next to his camera stand. He pulled another string and the house lights went off. In a second, his specially positioned photography studio lights were spotted on Nobuhle who had then gone from her chair to sitting naked on the floor. "What do you want to know?" Rossi asked staring at her. "Happiness" Nobuhle replied looking troubled and miserable as she sat naked on the floor. "What are you not happy about? Why are you looking for happiness?" Rossi asked lighting a cigarette, "Happiness will only make you miserable you know that?" "No. I don't." Nobuhle answered. "Well this is what I want. A photograph. A photograph capable of different things. A photograph that when we put it out, is capable of showing scars. Different scars. The scars people carry in their mind." He said "That's what I want to see when I look at this photograph twenty years from now. That's why you're sitting naked right there. Sitting like the poor black woman who you are behind what you've been. What can you think of that doesn't have a little misery in it? Nothing. You know why? Thats because you're a black woman." Rossi said While Nobuhle started sweating as she tried to make sure she kept her posture. Rossi regarded that and kept quiet looking at her nakedness in sympathy. Tears began to stream down on Nobuhle’s face. On the spur of the moment the camera flashed lighting up her face, exactly the photograph Rossi had been looking for.
Three cash strapped tourists from Ukraine approached the hotel manager eagerly wanting to know more about the miracle free tour they were told by other guests in the hotel. To their surprise the manager was alone in the reception. He had no idea what Nobuhle was up to with Rossi in his room. "Where is everyone?" The tourists asked with their wonderful accent. "Oh you mean Nobuhle and Debbie? They’re having lunch." The manager replied. "Well, we heard about the tour." "Yes the event happening in Cape Town this Sunday?" "Yes, that one! How much is the cost." One of the tourist responded with precision in his accent. The manager smiled and put on his look of pride for the hotel. He told them not to worry about the cost that the tour is actually for free. The guests couldn’t believe him thinking that’s impossible in a small hotel where the prices of food and drinks are a total rip off. "So we don't pay anything?" "That's right. You don't have to pay anything." he replied and the tourist all began to smile at each other. Clearly they were very happy with that and couldn’t wait much longer to see what was install for them in Cape Town. At last Debbie returned from her lunch with a cup of hot soup in her hand. The manager turned to her. "So you're not done yet? What about Nobuhle? When is she finishing?" He asked inquisitively. "I don't know about Nobuhle. I don’t know where she is" Debbie replied "I thought you were having lunch together?" The manager grew worried urging Debbie to tell him all she knew. "The last time I saw Nobuhle she told me she might be away for a while." "So where is she right now?" He asked. "I have no idea." Debbie replied taking a seat to enjoy her hot cup of soup. This got the manager very worried. He tried phoning Nobuhle but her phone was switched off. Meanwhile, back inside the hotel room with Rossi, Nobuhle was almost done taking the photographs. She quickly put on her skirt and fitted it around her curves while Rossi seated sternly on the armchair, staring at her. "Come here." He called and Nobuhle replied "No" "Come over here and tell me that." He insisted. "I can't. I have to go now." Nobuhle said buttoning up her shirt. "Go where?" "I have to go back to work. I’m late" "Yes, that reminds me." He reckoned "It’s amazing being with someone who looks into your eyes, and make you miserable.” Nobuhle mumbled sitting on the bed and puts on her shoes. "Did I do that to you? Did I hurt your feelings?" Rossi asked "Yes." "So you're afraid? You're afraid of me?" "I'm not afraid of anyone. I was never afraid of you, I was curious." "You know we've spent a lot of time together, but we haven't really been together." "Why haven’t we?" Nobuhle asked. "I also was curious" He replied "You could easily have said that" "Didn't I say you're attractive? And I like you?" He responded in a soft voice but Nobuhle really had to return back to work as she certainly did not want to lose her job again. "How about you show me around, tonight?" The Italian asked. Nobuhle appreciated the unexpected sense of respect and keenness in her so she promised to call him after work. Back inside the hotel reception, Nobuhle walked into her manager standing firmly in the office. Sort of the kind of reaction she expected for her disappearance. "Nobuhle I must confess, you had a long lunch! Where have you been?" Manager asked clearly stating his anger and authority. This time Nobuhle chose not to lie, make any more excuses or say anything. The manager reckoned and felt that maybe he was overreacting since he did want to give the impression that he was being hard on Nobuhle because she was black. "Okay Nobuhle, I understand you don't have to rush your meal or anything like that." He said "But next time you have your lunch, you can actually be more economical, instead of having chicken curry and the rest; you could have some hamburgers and a cup of soup?" The manager suggested thinking Nobuhle was actually having lunch all this time. With that, Nobuhle finally caught her breath with some feign smiles on her on face. "Okay Sir, thank you. I'll try that." She responded and moved over to her desk. The manager calmed down told her to print some more pamphlets on the free Cape Town tour and distribute them to all the hotel rooms.