Maks Ntaka has a target on his back.

After years of loyal work for Arms-Tech Industries, Maks has found proof of serious corruption in his department. Tender fraud, illegal kickbacks, inflated contracts, the same old story. Maks wants to do something about it, turn whistleblower. What else can a good man do?

But who can he tell if he can’t trust anyone? The people in charge seem complicit, while the rest turn a blind eye. Soon suspicions cloud the office, and all the knives are out for whoever turns on them first. As Maks pre-pares his disclosures, he discovers that his longtime mentor has implicated him in the illegalities. Not only is he being set up by his company, but some foreign nationals with deep pockets are also on his trail looking for their cut. For Maks, the walls are closing in, and danger waits at every turn.

Meanwhile, his own private indiscretions are coming to light, and soon his life starts collapsing around him.

In this compelling and harrowing account of a whistleblower, Onke Mazibuko creates a nail-biting, paranoid thriller about a good man pushed to the limit. Drawing from all too real instances of corruption and collapse, this book shows what such a system does to those who still listen to their conscience.

What is a good man to do when your own company made the bullet with your name on it?

The second verse of any song has to be more killer than the first. Always. The rhythm has to slap. The lyrics must be on point. The feeling intense. And the impact mad-definitive. It’s just the way it is. In the same way, if you do well once in life, then you always have to be better from that point onwards. No doubt.

East London, aka Slummies, circa 1998. Bokang Damane is a dreamer and an outsider with mad problems. Things only get worse when everyone thinks he wants to off himself just because he wrote an essay on suicide. Really? Talk about d.r.a.m.a.

Life at the moment is just a sorry son-of-a-checklist of insolvable problems. Problem #1: Not black enough for the black kids and too black for the white kids. Yep, that’s what happens when you attend a mad-pompous all boys’ college and live in the burbs. Problem #2: Family finances are a joke – they can’t even afford Bokang’s initiation. Now he can’t get props like any decent Xhosa man. Problem #3: An alcoholic, gambling attorney for a father who expects the world to bend to his will.

What’s a man gotta do? Apart from freaking the hell out?

Bokang just wants to rap, sketch and be left alone. Everyone keeps yacking on about Bokang reaching his true potential but everyone keeps getting in the way.

So what happens?

Boy meets girl. It wouldn’t be much of a story otherwise.