The Lucky One

Her sister had won again – but what did it really mean to be the lucky one?

- Rosemary Hayes

THULI’s voice was so breathless with excitement I could hardly hear a word over the crackling phone line. But it didn’t take a genius to work out what my sister was trying to say.

“What did you win this time?” I asked. Ever since we were kids Thuli was “the lucky one”. Raffle draws, magazine competitions, radio call­in­and­win promotions, you name it, Thuli was always the one taking home a prize.

I’ll never forget how a month after she passed her driving test she won a car. What could she possibly have won now?

“I can hardly believe it, Nosipho. I won the lottery. Enough for me to buy a house!”

“You’re joking,” I said.

“I’m serious!” she squealed.

“Congratulations, Thuli. You’ve done it again.” I tried hard to sound happy, but I felt a twinge of envy.

Is it fair for one person to have so much good luck? I’ve entered lots of competitions too, but never won anything.

“Thanks,” Thuli said. “Look I have to go, but I’ll be in touch soon.”

I found my husband at the computer desk. Sabelo was scanning employment opportunities on a job­search website. Even though he already had two part time jobs, he needed something that paid better.

“You won’t believe what she’s won this time.” I didn’t need to say my sister’s name; Sabelo knew who I was talking about. “The lottery. Enough to buy a house she said.” I smiled, then promptly burst into tears.

“Hey, shh,” Sabelo said, as he pulled me gently onto his lap.

“Sorry Sabelo. I know how awful I must seem. I mean, I am happy for her, really. But it’s just . . .” Then I couldn’t find the right words to explain at all.