Free Ways of Dying by Zakes Mda

from the village to the city. It was a long journey that took him three months.

    Toloki’s odyssey to a wondrous world of freedom and riches. He walked day and night, passing through farmlands and through small towns that reeked of discrimination against people of his colour. For the first time in his life, and the last time, he found himself having to beg for food. It was so demeaning to stand at a corner of a street in some nondescript town, and ask for a coin from a passer-by. He never realised it would be such a harrowing experience to be a beggar, and he vowed that he would never do it again. The experience haunts him still, even in his days as an established Professional Mourner, and it is for this reason that he will not take alms.
    He walked for long distances on gravel roads. He took off his boots in order to save them from wear and tear. He hung them on his shoulders from their straps, and walked barefoot.
    He was dog-tired, and his feet were swollen and numb when he entered yet another small town. It was not different from the others, for when you have been through so many country towns they all end up looking the same. He sat on the pavement, in front of a fast-food cafe. His mouth was dry with hunger. The smell of fish and chips frying in stale cooking oil made him even hungrier. It had been days since he had a morsel in his mouth, and he had terrible pains in his stomach. It was as though his empty intestines were tied in knots. If he did not get anything to eat he was surely going to die, he thought. He was not going to allow that to happen. He would rather rummage for scraps of food in the rubbish bins. Or steal. To steal is better than to beg.
    A man in overalls stopped and looked at him ruthfully. Then he searched his pockets, found a coin, and gave it to him.
    â€˜Thank you, father, but I do not accept alms.’
    â€˜You do not?’
    â€˜It is true I am hungry, and if I don’t eat I will die. But I do not accept charity.’
    â€˜So you’d rather die? What a stupidly proud boy!’
    â€˜I desperately need this money, father. But I insist on doing some job for you in return.’
    The man in overalls laughed for a long time. Then he asked Toloki where he came from, and what he was doing in that town. Toloki told him he was on his way to the city to search for love and fortune. The man laughed again. Toloki wondered what was funny about a quest which was, in his view, so noble.
    â€˜Are all people such dreamers where you come from?’
    â€˜I do not understand why you laugh at me, father. But I am willing to do piece jobs to survive on the road.’
    â€˜I cannot offer you a job. I am just a poor labourer who lives with his old father and a lot of other labourers in a labour camp. I can introduce you to my employers who will give you a job. One of the workers left last week, and he has not been replaced yet. But don’t tell them it’s a piece job. They only hire people who want to work permanently. Or are you too proud to lie?’
    Toloki assured him that he could lie as well as any man. The only aberration in his character was that he eschewed charity. He apologized profusely for this hang-up, and explained that he had no idea what its source was. The man bought him three fat cakes from the fast-food place, and said, ‘This is not charity. You will pay me back when you receive your wages.’
    They walked through the streets, while the man in overalls ran a few errands. Toloki wolfed the fat cakes, and was suddenly attacked by stomach cramps. He fell on the ground in convulsive agony.
    â€˜Hey, you can’t die on me now!’
    â€˜No, it is not that, father. I ate too fast on an empty stomach.’
    â€˜Stay here. I’ll go and buy you milk.’
    â€˜Thank you very much. I will pay you back. I promise I will.’
    Toloki was employed as a malayisha at a mill, which meant that he loaded and unloaded bags of maize and mealie-meal. In