My cell phone rings and I answer. It is Mzala, and he wants to know where I have gone. I direct him to the Edward Street Garden of Remembrance. He says he needs to talk to me and is coming right away. He pleads that I should wait for him.

When he arrives he asks that we drive to his house. I look at him and I can see he is heavy with something to say. We have driven for less than two minutes when he stops the car, parks on the side of the road and opens his mouth to say, “Cousin, something has just happened.”

“What?” I ask.

“Bad news.”

“What is it?”

“It is in the newspapers. It is out there. Everybody is talking about us now.”

“What are you talking about, Mzala?”

“As the city council, we made an application to the Provincial authority for the city to be promoted from Grade 5, a metropolitan city that does not enjoy full privileges, to Grade 6, where we shall make use of the privileges of metro status. Now, as procedure demands, the application had to be lodged with some Provincial office. An unreasonable, or, should I say, unpatriotic official has turned down our application.”

“Well, that's administration, Mzala. Any mistake?” I ask.

“It is serious, cousin. As the men around the Mayor, we earn what we earn, but if we were to be Grade 6 we would earn what we should earn just like other big cities, an earning that we deserve, you should see what I mean, hey?”

“I think I read about this in the newspapers. And I read that you had already started to pay yourselves the Grade 6 salaries.”

“Yes, because the money is in our hands. No, sorry for that, freedom is in our hands,” he says with a sparkle on his face.

“It is a famous song, I understand, Mzala.”

“It is our time, cousin. We have a mandate from the majority to bring about better lives for all. So, there has to be a starting point for all this.”

“And, the official is denying you the chance to be the starting point you want to be?”