Goodman’s New Room Divider.

(Another late one for 'Friday the 13th')

“Hello, I’d like to confirm employment of Goodman Tini please.”
“Who’s speaking?”
“It’s Bianca, from Russells in Claremont.”
“OK. Hi Bianca. Yes, Goodman does work for me. Why do you want to know?”
“Goodman wants to buy a room divider on HP, and we need to establish his credit-worthiness.”
“How much is the room divider?”
“Three thousand five hundred rand plus VAT.”
“How much will the monthly repayments be, and over what period?"
“Four hundred rand a month, for 24 months.”
“That’s over nine thousand rand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Is Goodman with you? Let me speak to Goodman.”
“Hold on please.”
“Hello.”
“Hello, Goodman?”
“Yes, hello ma’am. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Goodman, and you?”
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Goodman, I would like to pay cash for the wall unit, and you can pay me back four hundred rand a month, with no interest. This means you will pay it off in ten months, not two years. Is that OK with you?”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.”
“Good. Let me speak to Bianca again please.”

I explain the new arrangement to Bianca, and sort out the details for payment and delivery.

Last week Tuesday, Goodman arrives, as he has done every Tuesday for the last fifteen years, with a spring in his step and big smile on his face. Russells delivered the room divider yesterday. His wife, Virginia, is very proud and very happy. Goodman says he will be able to pay me the first instalment next week, once his other employers have paid him. He shows me the contract document that Russells initially wanted him to sign:

Wall unit: R3,596.40
Delivery: R360.00
Initiation fee: R297.82
VAT: R595.58
Finance charges: R1,748.43 (31.50%)
Service fee: R684.00
Optional life insurance*: R1320.00
Optional Comprehensive Product Insurance*: R1,748.43
Total due: R9,836.24

* I imagined the conversation in Russells: “Do you want insurance?” “Yes, please.”

I asked Goodman a few questions. He doesn’t know what insurance is. He doesn’t know what ‘optional’ means. Bastard blood-sucking retailers.

This Tuesday, Goodman doesn’t come to work. I phone his cellphone. Voicemail. I phone Virginia’s cellphone. The number is no longer valid.

On Friday morning, the 13th of June, Goodman rings the doorbell. His head is bandaged, one eye is bloodshot, his face is bruised, and he is limping.

“Goodman, come in. What happened? Have you been fighting?”
“No ma’am. They beat me up ma’am.”
“Who did, Goodman? Why did they do this to you?”
“I don’t know ma’am. These men in the township. They called me over, and when I got there, they just started hitting me. There’s a big hole in my head, and I had to have stitches. The doctor says I must go to Tygerberg Hospital to see if my brain has been damaged. I’m sorry I didn’t come to work on Tuesday, but I was in hospital. Here is your money.”

Goodman gives me four hundred rand, and I make him a cup of tea. Because of the language barrier, I cannot get any more information from Goodman that helps me understand what happened.

At ten o’clock, Prudence arrives. Just as she has arrived every Friday for the last seven years.

Goodman and Prudence have an animated conversation in Xhosa, of which I understand about three words.

At four o’clock, I take Prudence down to the station. I ask her if she knows why Goodman was beaten up. Prudence explains that it is quite a common thing in the township. If the skollies in the community feel that someone is getting too big for their boots, or above their station in the community, they get taught a lesson. Prudence tells me that her son-in-law was killed this way, last year. His first child had just been born and he had just received a large pay increase. So he bought a new cot for his daughter. This offended the skollies, and they stabbed him. He died before the ambulance arrived. So, Prudence continued, Goodman must have done something to offend the skollies in his township.

I knew immediately what it was. The room divider.

I asked Prudence if this could be so, and she confirmed that the Russells truck delivering a brand new room divider would indeed offend the skollies.

Oh dear God, I thought. My ‘helping’ Goodman has almost led to his death.

Then I thought some more and realised that even if I hadn’t paid Russells directly, Goodman would still have had his brand new room divider delivered, albeit at more than twice the price. Cold comfort.

And I also began to understand why Russells charges for life insurance.