TWO MONTHS LATER
Since that day my life had been bliss. Ada would come and see me once a week when he was around but we spoke almost every day, Abedi had just disappeared and according to Ada he was actually out of the country and all was well. Zethu was still dating Konky whom she threatened to dump after every date. There had been a month’s holiday in between and I had watched yet again as thousands of people pass my tollgate to go to the Durban July and back. I was always fascinated by how so many black people loved horses. Ada said that was not a scene for him so much so he refused to give me money to go. At this stage from him alone I had over R20000 in my bank account thanks to him. Zamo and Katlego were enemies meaning she never shared my secret that the apartment and the phone were from Ada. It was the last day of the holiday and I was headed back to school the next day when I got a call from Zethu,
“Mfethu I have concluded!”
She started immediately,
“What is it now?”
I asked her.
“Home is the most boring place imaginable. The number of chores they make you do is unnecessary!”
She said and we laughed. She had whined about this the whole time which made it even more hilarious.
“I keep telling you that you can’t judge how you grew up at home with what you see at school!”
“Now you think your father is a dick because someone at school said that boys are like this because of the way they are raised at home. I can’t believe you fought him like that because in my house I will be dead already!”
I told her. Zethu belonged to the nee generation girl that challenged her father to the point of him threatening to beat her. She said she would call the police in him. The truth is I know she had started that fight because she was annoyed that he had prevented her from going to the Durban July afterparty and sent her to the farms instead of what she called a useless errand. Over and above that he had promised her that she can take one of the cars back to Johannesburg at the beginning of the year but changed his mind after one of her marks was 55%. According to her, the class average was 61% and when she made that argument he asked,
“Since when do you settle for averages!”
Something that had thrown her over the age.
“If your brand alignment wants to settle for mediocrity then do so but not in my house. You won’t be getting the car until you always come way above average!”
I know all this because she had actually recorded the conversation. She does weird things like that.
“Mfethu I am still not talking to that one. Even Wendy tried to intervene but things are tense. I can’t wait to leave tonight. I just want my own space again and God knows I miss clubbing!”
She said and funny enough of all the things I missed it was not partying but my sleeping over at her place, Nthabiseng included.
“The clubs will be there when you get back!”
I told her and she just laughed.
“Are you ready to see Ada?”
She asked me.
“Yes I am and he has actually been calling a lot.”
I told her and I had missed him.
“I have to go; I am cooking and my mother is not well today!”
I told her.
“Ah what’s wrong with maHlatshwayo today?”
She asked me.
“I think she is stressed that I am leaving and has no money. I have told her several times that I am covered but she feels it’s her responsibility.”
I told her and Zethu made a slight whistle before acknowledging,
“That’s a tight one but hope you sort it out!”
She told me as we hung up. My mum was lying in bed and I was cooking.
She called me and asked me to bring her water. When I went into her room she did not look alright at all.
“Mum, what’s wrong? You haven’t eaten for the whole day!”
I asked her in English. It was deliberate because sometimes when i spoke English she would laugh and say i was becoming advanced in life. Colonial mentalities like this prevailed in my town where if you spoke English in public either wazitshela or you were advanced like she put it. Today it was not funny though,
“Do you remember the last time I was sick for no reason at all?”
She asked me. My mother was one of those fortunate people who never ever got sick. The whole house can have flu but my mother would still be up and about unaffected.
“Yes I do. It was when I was in grade 10 or 11!”
I told her. Tears started coming out of her mouth.
“Hawu Ma and then?”
I asked her starting to worry now.
“If you don’t want me to go back to school tomorrow I won’t. I can delay a few more don’t!”
I told her.
“No you must go back. Its the only thing that can save this family.”
She said and it sounded ominous the way it came out.
“Then what’s going on Ma. You have been like this for the last few days and its worrying me. How can i be happy going back leaving you like this? Talk to me!”
I encouraged her.
“The last time I was like this I discovered later that your father had fathered those twins! A week I started feeling funny so I went through his phone and I found out that he made that Ngwenya girl pregnant!”
Jesus takes the will.
“They only have one daughter Ma that can’t be right. She is grade 10 or 11.”
I told her my head already spinning.
“Yes, that child. I confronted him and he said what he does outside the house is his business imagine!”
I was boiling. The girl’s name was Nokwanda and she was one of those slow learner kids but very fast when it came to bofebe. Everyone had slept with her at this stage. I was livid.
“Where is he?”
I asked her. My father had been off this week so he was home. Ok saying he was home is an exaggeration because he was hardly ever here.
“Probably with her people always see them at KwaDlamini so I am sure they are there!”
She said and turned around. I stood up and switched off the stove. KwaDlamini was a tshisanyama were a lot of locals went. It was a ten-minute walk from my house via short cuts and sometimes when they had big parties you could even hear the music. Personally, I hated it, it was filthy and dirty but black people love such places as it was always packed. We all knew each other meaning that everyone who had seen my father with her knew about this further humiliating, my mother. I was livid, to say the least. When I got there men try to touch me as I walked in. I found him and there was Nokwanda on his lap. He was not even ashamed and worse the people around him were looking on as this child was being fondled by an old man. She was wearing a cheap looking tralala and a free DA T-shirt. My father only saw me when i was already standing over them.
“What’s this Baba?”
I asked him and before he could even speak the little girl tried to speak but that as a wrong move. I punched her so hard she must have met Jesus when he was still in Galilee.
“Baba ngithi what’s this?”
I asked him again as he stood up angrily,
“Go home I will deal with you later!”
This guy thought this was a game.
“You have disrespected my mother for too long. I am going to get you arrested for rape because this girl is a child. I am going to go to Pick N Pay and tell them that their driver sleeps with kids. They will fire you and your pension!”
I screamed at him and obviously the losers that drank with him had gathered around.
“Don’t talk me like that I am your father! Go home!”
He said angrily.
“Is this what a father does? Your wife is at home in bed crying wena ubusy running after kids in high school. She is younger than me you stupid man. Would you be happy if your friends here are sleeping with me. Baba Ngubane would you like to touch my ass?”
I said turning to one of his closest friends and the one that he did all his bad things with. I walked over to Baba Ngubane and forcibly took his hand and put it on my ass. The horror on my fathers face,
“What are you doing?”
He said coming at me full force.
“Angithi it’s alright for you to put it into other peoples kids!”
I stood up to him
“Baba Ngubane lets go one round. I think he wants to see…”
I didn’t react fast enough because next thing I felt a hot clap on my face. This man thinks we are playing games. As they were eating meat they had these metal trays that they put the meat on. I picked it up and swung catching him on the face he fell backward. There was a collective,
From the crowd. You see in Zulu culture the biggest sin, i am sure even Eve eating the apple does not even come close, is a girl putting hands on her father. Zulu men demand submissiveness from a woman so much so that he could even kill me for this.
“How dare you?”
He said fist clenched but someone pulled him from the back.
“If you come home tonight i will kill you. I want you to understand that. I will have every knife pointing at you. You better sleep with one eye open!”
I warned him. I turned to Nokwanda,
“Wena sfebe, go home now and do your homework!”
I told her. She did not even hesitate. The way she ran out so fast.
I told him and again the crowd did the sound effects that suited the moment. I was so livid even now. He had a cut on his forehead where i had hit him with the tray. Hope he gets tetanus the arsehole!
Ngimu nximfelile. On any other day, this would have been me signing my own death sentence. I had never ever disrespected and an elder before let alone my own father but I was so mad. As I stomped off to walk home the tears started coming out. That’s how angry I was. When i got home i switched on the stove and started crying.
What had i just done? I had hit my father. What if he kills me or my mother for that matter? That anger was now fear. I locked the doors and waited …