a shop near his home, where he knew the owner. When he understood the situation, the owner sympathetically made a pile of copies of Tombi’s photograph. Witness thanked him and scribbled his phone number on one of the copies. “If you see her, please call me.”
WHEN WITNESS ARRIVED AT the school, he was grateful to see about twenty people waiting. Most of the helpers had brought sticks of some sort, either broomsticks or cut from a tree. Two women came up as soon as he climbed out of the car. He recognized them as the mothers of Chastity and Asakona.
“Oh, Rra Maleng. I hope Tombi is okay. We’re all praying for her.” Mma Ramotwa touched him on the arm.
“She’s such a lovely girl. Chastity doesn’t know what could’ve happened. They all left for home at the same time,” Mma Maboda said. “I’ve brought my husband and one of my neighbors to help. I also went to all the teachers’ houses, and some of them have come, too.”
Witness fought back his tears.
“Thank you.”
A large man with a bright shirt, shorts, and sandals walked over.
“Dumela, Rra Maleng,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Charlton Tsimako, Zumi’s father. My wife cannot be here, so I have come in her place.”
They shook hands in the traditional manner.
“I’m a security guard at a bank,” Charlton continued. “I’ve had some training in searches. Let me help you.”
“Thank you,” Witness responded. “I have no experience. But I have something that will help.” He held out the packet containing copies of Tombi’s photograph. “I was able to make these this morning.”
The big man turned and shouted: “Dumela, everyone. Please come here so we can get started.” The group walked over to him.
“Thank you for coming to help. We all know how Witness must be feeling. So let’s get started.” He took the copies from Witness. “We’re going to break into groups. Some are going to go to every house between here and Witness’s home on Dutela Crescent. Show them Tombi’s photo and see if they saw her or saw anything unusual last night around five-thirty. Also ask at the tuck shops. There are several on the way. And see if any of the taxi drivers saw anything.”
He made four groups of two people each and gave them each a set of roads to cover. They took their copies and set off. “We’ll meet back here in an hour!” he shouted after them.
“The rest of us will search all the bush areas around here. We’ll start outside the school gates and check the big vacant area along Segoditshane Way. When we get there, we’ll form a line with about three or four yards between us. Use your poles to check under bushes or in long grass. We’ll keep doing that until we’ve covered all the areas around there. Then we’ll check along the railway line, even though that’s in the opposite direction.” He clapped his hands. “Let’s go!”
“Why aren’t the police here?” one of the men shouted.
“They say they’ll send a constable this afternoon,” Witness answered. “They don’t seem interested. They say kids often disappear for a few days.”
“Aaii,” one woman exclaimed. “The police never do anything. They’re useless. All they’re interested in is their paycheck. We can do a better job than them.”
They picked up their sticks and set off to start the search.
THE SEARCHERS KEPT A ragged line as they walked in the soft sand, sharing gossip and shouting encouragement. They poked clumps of long grass or crouched to peer under bushes. Even when they used their poles to move branches aside, thorns often managed to scratch their arms. Most difficult were the wag-’n-bietjie (wait-a-bit) bushes, with their thorns curved toward the center.
It took about twenty sweaty minutes for the line to reach the end of the first section of bush. After a few minutes’ rest, they moved to the next section and slowly worked their way back.
When they reached the school, several of the other groups had already returned and were standing in the shade of an acacia tree.
“Did you find anything?” Witness asked as he walked up.
Nobody had anything positive to report. No one had seen Tombi the previous evening, and no one had seen anyone or anything suspicious.
BIG MAN CHARLTON TOOK control again. He widened the area for the groups to go house-to-house and asked one of the men, who ran a small business, to make fifty posters with a photo of Tombi and Witness’s phone number. “When you’ve made them, staple them to