“you have the nerve of coming here”
Earlier that Sunday; my brother Lebogang came to visit me. I rarely saw him. The last time I saw him was during December holidays. He looked sharp and professional as always in his shirt and tie. It irritated me that he looked exactly like my father. Like a real photocopy. Although he was darker and handsome.
He and I were close when growing up. However as we grew older; we drifted apart. Only checking up on each other when something happens-mostly when something happens to me. I guess my life has more vibrancy and drama than his.
He arrived in the morning, and papa couldn’t keep his eyes off him. He kept making law references and went on and on about how he was proud of him. Calling him “Mr Advocate” and that he was a “True Molomo”.
I was glad the attention was off me for a while. The only thing we ever talked about – was what happened the night Brian “assaulted” me. And them telling me I should go for counselling, because apparently i wasn’t taking things “seriously”.
Then later on the day before; I had to strip naked for strangers showing them what my boyfriend did to me. They even took pictures of my face and my belly; assuring me they will only show the public the pictures if I consent to it. Why would I consent to people seeing me with a huge swelling on my face?
“Did he ever hit you before?” one of them asked. I replied with a no, and she said -“You need to be honest with me Miss Molomo. Are you sure this is the first time he abused you?” ehm, I think I would remember if the person I have been with for four years hit me before.
Everything was moving fast. Faster than I could put my feelings in place.
I was hoping Audrey would keep my mind off everything when she promised she would come visit me But she didn’t. Instead, I received a text saying:
*something came up while I was on the way there. I really wanted to see how you are doing amidst everything else…don’t be mad, xo xo.*
And that was it.
I observed Khumo and Lebogang from the kitchen. They were sitting on the dining room table chatting about God knows what. My father and his over the top laughter couldn’t hinder his excitement over seeing his son.
“Baby go sit on the table.” said my mother.
“No I’m fine right here. I will help carry the plates.” we were preparing dinner. The boys waiting to eat, and the women in the kitchen. Like a typical Molomo family. “Pontso, I will do everything. Go and sit …your legs need the rest.” she was beginning to annoy me. “I said I’m fine Ma.”
A noise came on through the intercom. “I’ll answer it.” she said. She walked over to the door.
“Who is it?”
“Can I please talk to Pontso? I need to see her.” my heart thwacked!
“Who is this?” it was Brian. I thought he was “taken into custody”?
“It’s Brian.” he spoke.
“Is it that boy?” she asked me. I nodded. My father shouted from the dining room- “Who is it? Ma’ Lebo, ke mang o? Who is it?” she didn’t answer him knowing exactly what he would do, -cause a scene.
Mama opened the door. But instead of letting him in; she stepped outside and rapidly closed the door behind her. Not letting me get a glimpse of him.
I could hear her say to him- “Boy go home. You cannot see Pontso right now and don’t you ever come back here. A o na hlompho moshemane, you do not have respect coming here.”
“Please Mrs Molomo, I just want to-”
I walked slowly towards the door. I wanted to see how he looked. If he was sorry. If he was okay. If he’s still the Brian I knew. I badly needed to look at him, and make him look at me. Except, I just remained next to the door, – hesitating.
“Who is outside Pontso?” asked my brother walking into the kitchen. Following him was my father. My heart beat even faster.
“Go, I don’t care. She doesn’t want to see you. You have some nerve of coming here trying to hurt my daughter…go, go out!” I could over hear my mother shouting at him and him pleading. My mother barely shouts at anyone. She was really furious.
When papa figured out what was happening, he said- “Is it that Sebata boy? How is he out?!”
“He must have made bail.” said my brother. Khumo opened the door and joined mama outside. That short five seconds of papa opening the door and shutting it on my face, – I saw him. He looked stressed. Our eyes met. But when he wanted to come closer to the door, -“Hey wena boy!” my father yelled. I could hear movements outside. I wanted to be there. I wanted to see more of him; stop whatever that papa was doing to him.
When I made two step; my brother stopped me by grasping my hand, -“You will only be making things worse if you go outside. You have plenty of time to see him in court.” court? Who is going to court?
“Lebo, let go of me.”
I finally reached the door and opened it. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Papa holding Brian by his T shirt and a belt in his right hand.
“Molomo motlehele hle, please let him go!” exclaimed my mother. When Brian noticed me, he said -“Baby I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Forgive me love… Pontso.” he said with his eyes pleading,
“Forgive ya eng? Get out of my house!” shouted my father still raising the belt at him; threatening to hit him with it somehow.
I focussed on Brant’s face. He continued- “I don’t know what came over me. You know I’m not like that…I could never…trust me. Baby I would never.” he appeared helpless and exhausted; like he hasn’t slept an eye.
I noticed there was someone in the car he came in with; staring at everything that was going on; not even moving. It looked like his friend Thabz.
“Baby? Pontso…please say something, anything.” I still stared at him while he tried unblock papa away from him. I then simply turned around and went back inside the house. I saw what I wanted to see.
“Pontso!” he exclaimed. “Leave Brant. She doesn’t want to talk to you.” I overheard my brother say to him when I closed the door behind me.
Lebogang was wrong. I did want to talk to him. I just didn’t know what to say to him. I was hurt. I admit he hurt me.