The Echos of Silence Final Epissode

 Lefa was staring at his laptop, waiting for an email to pop up. “I hope this email has good news,” he said, sipping a cup of coffee. You could see that he was waiting for news that would change his life. An email arrived, and he noticed that the publisher had rejected his first book. “This can’t be,” he stood, heart pumping as if his heart would come out. “How can they reject my offer?” He asked, not knowing what to do. Lefa left everything. He stood and looked outside through the window. The moon was bright, and there was a silence. “Why god?” Lefa’s tears went out. Sadness settled over him like a cold mist, seeping into every crevice of his being. His eyes were bright, now dulled like tarnished silver. “I don’t expect this to happen,” he said and covered his face. Lefa was hoping for the good things to happen to him; he didn’t give up, he kept trying other proposals.

Mrs Mokoena was in the staffroom, a pile of papers next to her, her hand grabbing a pen and marking. “These kids don’t want to study, look at these marks,” she said. Lefa entered the staffroom. He was down, and Mrs Mokoena noticed that something was wrong. “Lefa, what is wrong?”

“This world is not for me,” he said, grabbing a chair to sit down. Mrs Mokoena stood and sat next to him. “Please tell me what is wrong,” she said and touched his shoulder. “I need to find other ways to be the person I want to be,” he said. Mrs Mokoena tried to find out what was eating Lefa. “Lefa, you can tell me everything, be open to me,” she said. “I got an email.”

“What email?” Mrs Mokoena asked. “They rejected my book, and I was hoping to be an author.” Lefa’s face was pale. “This is your first attempt, remember that,” Mrs Mofokeng insisted. “But, it was supposed to be the moment of happiness,” he said. “Look, a car can’t reach gear number five before the other gears. It means you need to start somewhere,” she advised him. “I hope so, ma, I told myself that nothing will stop me,” he said, hoping to try again. Lefa told himself that he wouldn’t give up, and he would try again. “You wanted to be an author, to do that, you need to work hard,” Mrs Mokoena said. “I will look for other publishers.” Lefa was feeling at ease.

 

Learning the business of writing, the hard lessons of publishing and finding his unique voice. Lefa noticed something that would help him on the internet; he had hope. “Finally, I got something. This competition looks promising,” he said. His eyes sparkled, bright as stars on a clear night. Lefa started to write his first poem and submitted it; he was hoping God would answer his prayers.

 

One day, Lefa was cleaning his yard, a phone was ringing, and without hesitation, he picked it up and noticed that the call was from Poetry Competition Ubuntu. “Yes, this is Lefa speaking,” Lefa answered.

“I am letting you know that your poem has been selected to be in the first position at the Poetry Competition Ubuntu.” Lefa’s heart was pumping fast. “I am excited to hear that,” he said, his voice a squeal, pitched high with anticipation. “Next week, you will be in Pretoria to receive your trophy and amount voucher to start your author journey. We will pay for transport for you.” Lefa realised that his moment had arrived, and he felt so excited. Lefa told himself that he would start his journey as an author and manny people started recognising him. 

Brian Makara, 2025