Zinzi wonders whether Benôit has slept off his hangover; he’s been taking security guard shifts for his friend Elias, who is coughing up sputum. It could be lung disease, or a reaction to asbestos or black mold; “Proper diagnoses are as rare as real doctors around here” (137). D’Nice urges Benôit to get some of Elias’s sputum and try to sell it on the black market.

In the absence of doctors, sangomas and other faith healers fill the gap. They sell muti, claiming that their mystical medicine heals people: “crushed lizard balls and aspirin. Guess which ingredient does all the hard work?” (137). Zinzi compares their medicine to the glossy magazines she used to write for, which always promised a “better you” but never really delivered. She says objects like the ones she searches for want to be told what to do, but people are trickier. Those who have a real mashavi that helps people heal are too expensive for people like Elias.

Zinzi arrives home to find Benoît cooking dinner. He insists that the two eat on the building’s roof, and he brings out his camera. Benôit has a habit of recording every step of his journey by taking photographs.