Her capital north of Duiwelskloof towards Munnik, crowns a hill in the
standing
Molotutsi Valley. From the surrounding region
you can see it
regally above the cycad forests. It is a sight which fills the Lobedu with
pride and a hope that there will one day be a time of miracles again.
Always there is this hope in their hearts, the very hope which filled a young
girl as she strolled down a path leading into the valley one hot afternoon in
December. Looking up to the capital she sighed, giving expression to her
yearning, and continued to walk down the path. All around her the shrill
of cicadas split the air, and she had to cover her ears with her hands. Two
urchins giggled bashfully when they saw her. They shouted, 'pretty one!'
and ran on, giggling as they went. Down in the village she turned the head
of every male. They called her Nomona.
The heat was oppressive. She entered the home of her parents with
thin beads of perspiration trickling down her smooth face. From an
earthenware jug, which stood on the window-ledge, she poured herself
glass of cool water and sat down at the table, staring for a moment
at her long, thin fingers curled around the glass. Her huge eyes smiled
appreciatively and then she drank down the cool water. Outside, the
Children were playing, and Nomona, feeling exhausted from the heat, fell
onto her bed and dropped into a deep sleep.
She was awakened by the sound of thunder. From her window she
gazed up to a stormy sky. Forks of lightning lit up the heavens, and then a
eavy rain began to fall over Modjadji. Nomona watched beads of water
rickle down her window pane and a feeling of joy and excitement swept
hrough
her. She wanted to get up and dance wildly, freely, like a spirit or
the wind.
The rain called her, and she went outside, holding her arms up
the
sky. Lightning flashed all around her, throwing a milky light over her
ark
skin down
which the rain ran in little rivers.
n weekdays, she did the domestic work for a young white widow in a
earby settlement. She kept her weekly pay under the wooden floorboards
■her room and used it
only on bus fare back home. The room had no
ectricity so she read by candlelight. She loved the soft glow of candles,
somehow
comforted her. She would read into the small hours, and
ter, after she had snuffed out the candles she would lie awhile in the
ark listening to the quiet of the night or to the shunting of trains in the
ation. Sometimes she listened to the hooting of a train growing fainter

What is nomona’s intrapersonal conflict