Big Pieces Little Pieces by Novuyo Rosa Tshuma

Father was very particular about his belongings. Take, for example, the time when Mama burnt his shirt, the cotton one with the brown embroidery and the buffalo in the middle. The shirt was frayed and the colour was fading, but the way he punched Mama you would think it was yet to be worn. Ever since then Mama had always tried the iron on a cloth first, then carefully pressed his clothes, hesitantly, as though she expected at any moment the smell of roasted material to waft to her nostrils... Full Story