The taxi-conductor shouted from behind me, “Go and fill in the back seat first, sisi.” At this minute I was panicking, my whole body trembling. I am not sure which feeling was paramount but I was both embarrassed and ashamed. The only question running through my mind was, “Does she remember us?”

            There was no chance of dodging, so I took one brave step forward and got next to her and sat down. Martha and Julia followed me to load up the seat. At that moment her eyes were fixed on us. I could feel them boring through my flesh as I pretended to be looking outside through the dusty windows of the taxi.

            Being a first year student in university meant that one had to be noticeable. Besides, that would lessen the pressure and unpleasant comments from the senior students.

            In room 10, girls’ residence, we were distinguished by our stunning hair styles. Our room-mate, Martha, was a very kind person. We only had to keep her happy by making her bed every morning and we were guaranteed free dazzling hair styles on our heads.

            As the academic work got tough and more demanding with time, Julia and I had to make other plans for our hair. I remember one afternoon, it was spring time, we went to a supermarket by the university’s campus gate and bought a product for R12.00 to do hair curls.

            In the lecture theater that week, our class-mates’ eyes nearly popped out as we made our way to our typical back-seats. They all wanted to know about our newly-found-beauty and of course we could not dish out our secret, so we told them it was done in one of the salons nearby. Martha never trusted anyone with her hair except professionals in the salons, so she continued to have hers done at the salon which was 30 minutes away from the campus.

            We enjoyed accompanying her to that salon. On one of those occasions while we were chatting and laughing as usual with Julia at the front side of the salon, one of the hairdressers who worked there came to us and asked if we were also there to do our hair. Our s~curls were old and ugly, so we thought what the heck? We asked how much hair curls were and the hairdresser murmured something which we understood to be R20.00; besides it was only s~curls, it had to be cheap.