The Lamza I never got

How One School Day Turned Into a Lesson on Regret

There are days that change your life.

There are days you remember because something amazing happened. Then there are days you remember because absolutely nothing happened. And somehow those hurt more.

This was one of those days.

The last paper.

The last official day.

The last chance.

I woke up that morning happier than I had been in weeks. Dory. Yha, let’s call her Dory.

For context, Dory was my girlfriend at the time. The pathological liar I told y’all about. We were only a couple of days into the relationship and tell me why we started dating during exams. Final exams ebile. I was reckless Muskont

Today was the day a nigga got a lamza.

Last day.

Last paper.

And possibly the last lamza of the year.

Now back to the story.

Dory.

Her name had somehow turned itself into a soundtrack in my head.

Every step I took towards school felt lighter than usual. The sun was shining. The birds were probably singing. Even the potholes looked beautiful. I was glowing with joy.

Okay, maybe not the potholes.

But you get what I mean.

I was happy. Nervous too.

But mostly happy.

Mfana studied, and mfana was ready to see his girl, but the overthinking never stopped.

I kept asking myself if I should be nervous.

I mean, why would I be nervous? It wasn’t like I was preparing for war. I was just going to see a girl, right? A girl whose smile could rearrange my entire mood.

A girl whose presence could make my brain forget half the English language.

A girl named Dory.

Yerrrrrr.

Only a few days in, mara , I was gone already.

As I entered the school grounds, my eyes immediately started searching.

Nothing.

No sign of her.

Maybe she hadn’t arrived yet. That was okay.

I still had time.

I spotted Mr Gava and decided to ask for my marks. He was my Physics teacher and arguably my favourite teacher throughout my school career.

He looked at me and said,

“Ahh wena mfana, why you asking for marks so early?”

with that accent As he was making his way out of the class.

“I’ll give you your marks.”

But first he needed to head to the bookstore. So naturally, I followed him. Not because I enjoy following teachers around.

Nobody does.

But I wanted those marks. Along the way I bumped into Kat. She was reading Afrikaans notes.

Now seeing someone voluntarily reading Afrikaans notes before an exam should probably qualify as a mental health concern.

Coz wetsang?

Ha dilo tsena.

But anyway.

She was heading in the same direction, so we walked together.She shared her notes.

Hehehe

I read through a poem. Aye man I had to keep myself busy

We revised.

We talked.

Eventually we reached the bookstore. I lost sight of Sir somewhere along the way. So I stood outside waiting. Then everything changed.

I turned my head to the right. And there she was.

Dory, mfana.

Standing with her friends.

Talking.

Laughing.

Existing.

You know when somebody’s presence hits you before your brain has time to process what’s happening?

Yeah.

That.

My heart immediately started acting like it had something to prove. Relax, brother. She’s just standing there.

But no.

My heart decided today was the day it wanted to audition for a drumline. I watched from a distance.

Not in a creepy way.

In a “let me wait until she’s done” kind of way.

Then I returned to reading my poem while pretending I wasn’t constantly looking up every few seconds.

Aye, I was young man.

Yaz, we try act cool and all.

Suddenly somebody asked,

“What are you reading?”

I looked up.

Kiwi.

She stood there with such confidence. The eye contact was intimidating, but I held it.

“I’m reading a poem.”

Then something happened. Something small. So small that nobody else would’ve noticed. But I noticed.

Dory walked past.

Right past me.

Like hello?

I know I’m waiting for Mr Gava here, but you’re also one of my favourite people at school.

You just gonna pass by me like that?

Close enough for me to say something.

Close enough for me to hear her voice.

Close enough for me to stop her.

That’s how close she was.

And I didn’t. I looked.

She didn’t look back. She kept walking.

Further.

Further.

Further.

And I let her.

I kept talking to Kiwi. I told myself I’d talk to her later. I told myself there would be another chance. I told myself Physics was more important right now.

Funny thing about life.

It loves testing those kinds of assumptions.

Eventually Sir came back.

Kat and I followed him to class.

On the way I spotted Dory again. She was standing near the square with Apple and Stacy.

Perfect.

I still had time. I’ll get my marks. Then I’ll go talk to her.

Simple.

The universe laughed.

Yhoo poi, it laughed so hard.

Sir finally showed me my results.

74/100 Paper 1.

74/100 Paper 2.

I stared at the numbers.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Surely those weren’t my marks. Maybe somebody switched papers. Maybe the calculator malfunctioned.

Maybe… ko nale mistake somewhere Ka gana

No.

Those were my marks. My stomach dropped. That was my Physics era, guys. I was solving every equation you could throw at me and killing it.

I expected an 80 at least. My brain went completely hollow. You know that feeling when disappointment arrives so quickly that your emotions don’t even have time to react?

That feeling.

I walked out of class feeling lost. Students were already heading to their classrooms. The school suddenly felt louder.

Busier.

Faster.

And somehow I felt slower than everybody else. Dory shifted from where she was too. She went to class.

The exam was about to start. I thought I could make it, fr. I headed towards her classroom.

Everyone was already inside.

No problem.

I’ll just see her after school.

Simple.

Again.

The universe laughed.

Because our class started later.

I remember being so frustrated because how was our class the only class getting papers late?

And on top of that, Mam wasn’t gonna start until everybody was quiet. I was in class with wild people. They didn’t wanna shut up. I remember having my head on the table thinking,

“Shit mfana, you on the chopping block right now. You never once talked to her today. She is not gonna wait for you.”

We were already twenty minutes in and Mam was ready to chow all that time because people didn’t wanna shut up. An entire hour passed before we started. So we finished an hour late.

An entire hour stolen because certain people in my class apparently believed silence was a myth.

By the time we finished it was around two.

I practically rushed outside.

Searching.

Looking.

Hoping.

Nothing.

She was gone.

Just like that.

Gone.

And suddenly all the confidence I’d had that morning disappeared.

All that remained were questions.

Was she mad?

Was she sad?

Did she regret anything?

Was she waiting for me?

Did she notice I never came?

Would it have mattered if I did?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

Tjuuu.

Mfana na overthinker.

Asking all these questions. The kind that don’t leave. The kind that follow you home. The kind that sit beside you in silence long after the day is over. I kept replaying everything.

The bookstore.

The square.

The classroom.

The moments I could’ve spoken.

The moments I chose not to.

The moments that seemed insignificant until they were gone. And that’s the thing nobody tells you.

Regret isn’t always born from failure. Sometimes regret is born from hesitation. From waiting five minutes too long.

From assuming there’ll be another opportunity. From believing tomorrow is guaranteed. That day taught me something.

Not about Dory.

Not about marks.

Not even about school. It taught me that moments are fragile. One minute they’re standing right in front of you. The next, they’re memories.

The last paper.

The last day.

The last chance.

The last conversation that never happened.

And now all that’s left is a question.

Was this really the end?

Or merely the last…

Till the next.

I’m just mad I never got that lamza man ….