through the streets of Soweto on
random afternoons, making
everybody laugh and charming all
the women he’d meet. He had a big,
dazzling smile with bright white
teeth—false teeth. At home, he’d
take them out and I’d watch him do
that thing where he looked like he
was eating his own face.
We found out much later in life
that he was bipolar, but before that
we just thought he was eccentric.
One time he borrowed my mother’s
car to go to the shop for milk and
bread. He disappeared and didn’t
come home until late that night
when we were way past the point of