"Tadiwa, eat some more." Mum said. She piled my plate with the remaining potatoes and pasta.
"Mum I don't like the chicken." Said Julia, the youngest. My parents gave each other a look.
"If you were in Zimbabwe your plate would be thrown out that window for the birds to eat." Dad said.
"Mhm, and there would be nothing else, you take it or you leave it." Mum added.
The girls laughed because they knew that they weren't in Africa and life in England is different for them. I grew up listening to the Africa stories, I don't think I realised England was separate country until I was nine - when I was first the 'N' word by a white kid. It was for humour's sake but it was still in bad taste.
My Dad questions me about my white friends, says that they will make me stray from God.
"I don't like them white boys, Tad, not good for you at all."
"What about Benji?" I ask.
"Benji took thick for his own good, even if he choose to do bad he would not get far at all."
"You're not wrong." I say.
The more I step out of line the more he blames my white friends. Tonight I walked Ruby home, a white girl from school I saw at a party. I had to leave before eight anyway and she didn't look like she wanted to stay, so we snook out when the takeaway driver knocked on the door. I made sure she got through her door, she invited me in and said her parents wouldn't mind if I stayed for the night. I live around the corner, I told her, so I didn't need to.
It took thirty minutes to find my way off her street and I still had to walk another forty minutes to get to my house. The downstairs lights were on when they're usually turned off at nine o'clock. I checked my phone and it was twenty minutes past ten.
Both my parents were sat in the living room, my Dad turned the TV off then my mum stood up and started shouting at me in Shona. I don't know a lot of Shona but I usually don't do anything to make this obvious.
"What time did I tell you to be back for?"
"Half-Eight."
"And what time is it now?"
I go to check my phone again and they start shouting at me.
I tell them "I was checking the time!"
"What have you been doing?" My mum shouts up to me.
"I walked a girl home, I-" My Dad pulled my jacket away from where I was holding it against my chin and said "Speak up."
He stared at me, then I said nothing.
We argue like this all the time, one morning Cathrine asked me if I was going to be sent to Zim. I thought about it since then and I figured that she got that idea from Mum and Dad talking about it. I tried all that next week to control myself and to pull myself up to surface level as much as possible. My Mum told me, when I first started school, that everything boils down to how I hold myself - that people should see me and have no doubt in their mind that I am good.
Every day I smiled, did favours for people, I made sure I was prepared for the day. Every night I got out my work and studied even if I had no homework to do. I started making dinner before Dad finished work, I made sure Cathrine and Julia had help with their homework and were clean and fed.
I didn't go out or see anyone outside of school for weeks; I said it was something to do with family and they quickly stopped digging into it.
Benji phoned me: "Has someone died?"
"It's not like that." I told him. "We've got loads of family round." I shouted the few words I knew in Shona at a pretend relative, Benji laughed slightly and said if I wanted to leave for a bit I could stay at his. My Dad said it was fine under the condition that I would be at home and ready for church in the morning.
We met with the rest of the boys from school and stayed out long after it got dark. We headed town-ways because a few of us needed lighters. It was safe to assume they were going to steal everything because no one would buy the cheap crap from the pound shop. I asked Benji to stay outside with me.
"It'll be fine." he said "we do this all the time."
We all headed in, I could see three of the lads already had their pockets stuffed. Benji held out a pack of 10 lighters and told me to put them down my shirt. The security guard was heading towards us, and had locked eyes with me.
"Benji no, let's go."
He grabbed my arm and pushed the pack up my jumper and zipped my coat up. No one could see that I had anything under there but I had the security guard's attention since we walked in. We weaved through the aisles, at the end of each one was either a till or a guard.
"Shit." said Benji.
I started unzipping my coat, "put it back" I pushed the pack onto him.
"No." he pushed it back onto me then it landed on the floor.
The guard gripped my upper arm and pushed me through a door and told me to empty my pockets.
"I havent -"
"If you refuse I'll have to call the police" he said avoiding eye contact.
I stood still in disbelief for a moment, when I turned out my pockets and proved that I had nothing he turned around and dialed 999.
I was walked to my house by the police officer that responded. My Mum opened the door and after one look she walked away.
"Who is it?" when my Dad appeared in the hallway his face dropped. I braced for the worst but he thanked the officer and walked me up the stairs.
He stopped in my room. "Pack your things." I say nothing, I pull my suitcase from the upstairs cupboard and filled it with the clothes I'd bought for holidays in Zim, as well as white shirts and smart trousers. My bags stayed packed for a month before I left for Zim. We drove to the airport as a family, when the girls realised what was happening they started to cry and hold onto my arms.
"It's okay." I told them.
My Dad withdrew £1000 from his account and gave it to me, then he handed me my suitcase, shook my hand and left.
