Chapter Two

I was always mesmerized by Aphiwe's creativity. With just a single stick, she could transform it into an African doll. She'd wrap the stick in cloth, shape an old legging material into a round head, and carefully add a chest and backside. Then, she dressed the doll in tiny, hand-sewn clothes made from scraps of old fabric. The dolls, though lacking arms and with only one leg, looked remarkably lifelike.Cindy adored these dolls. The two of them would spend hours playing with them, their laughter filling the room as I watched from the sidelines, sketching cars in my worn notebook.Aphiwe had a passion for singing, though she wasn't particularly good at it. Singing was her escape, her way of holding on to cherished memories. Her life had been far more difficult than Cindy's and mine. At just five years old, she had been abandoned by her mother.I still remember Aphiwe's story vividly. One morning, she woke up to find her mother gone. The wardrobe was empty—her mother had taken all her clothes and disappeared. Heartbroken and alone, Aphiwe moved in with her uncle, who was far from kind.One day, she ran away from him and ended up on the streets of the town center. She spent days hiding under boxes and begging for money. The cold nights were harsh, and the hunger gnawed at her.I'll never forget the night she described. She was begging with a group of other children when one boy violently grabbed her, tearing at her clothes. Her screams echoed through the street, but no one helped—everyone just watched and laughed. A white man intervened, chased the boy and his friends away, and offered her hope. He told her about a place called 'Miracle House,' a children's home where she could find safety and food.Desperate and weary, Aphiwe followed his directions. As she approached the large, white building with 'Miracle House' painted in blue on the wall, a sense of hope began to bloom within her. Two angels were painted on either side of the door, their serene faces offering a sense of peace.When the gate opened, Aphiwe felt a surge of fear and hope. A woman in her forties greeted her with a warm smile. "Hello, little lady. What are you doing outside at this time of night all by yourself?"Aphiwe, too nervous to speak, simply looked down. "It's okay, dear. Come inside. It's cold out, and you must be hungry," the woman said kindly, leading her into the building.Inside, Aphiwe was awestruck. The entrance hall was grand, with beautiful wooden stairs leading to the upper floors. The walls were painted a warm orange, and marble tiles covered the floor. She followed the woman into a large dining room adorned with cheerful paintings of cartoon characters."Why don't you have a seat and relax while I prepare something to eat?" the woman offered.As Aphiwe settled into a chair, her heart swelled with a mix of relief and cautious optimism. For the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope.