Majuba 61

The amount of bad luck I had had with this woman was unbelievable. All I wanted was for her to leave me alone and now

here we were. Sometimes getting rid of a person is harder than keeping them. She had miscalculated greatly at this stage thinking I was going to forgive such ratchet behaviour. She is those kind of women who will throw boiling water on you in your sleep if she can pack your property and leave the way she did. I really did not want to see her or talk to her. I loved her but it was not worth it. Time to move on but first deal with this. This was like something coming out of a movie and if it had not been there as it happened I would have said she faked her fall just to keep me there longer. I have seen plenty of such. It’s a scene where the person falls down the stairs backward in slow motion whilst the hero is trying to save her.

“My baby!”

She screamed as she fell over and tried to protect her tummy from the fall. I was not fast enough to stop that fall, I really wish I was.


I said running down after her as she hit the floor with a thud. She did not move and even when I got there she was not moving. There was blood everywhere and she was not moving.


I shouted trying to shake her up. She was not moving and I was panicked. She must have hit her head on her way down for she had passed out.


I shouted from the staircase. Within seconds the security guy I had seen earlier on when we got there was in there with us.

“What happened?”

He asked. He radioed something on his walkie talkie and two ladies came to help.

“Did you call an ambulance?”

He asked me. The answer was no because it had had just happened.

“No I did not!”

I told him taking out my phone to do it. In my state of panic I had even forgotten that basic thing.

“I am also calling the police!”

He said as I dialled the emergency number on my medical aid. Had the guard said something about the police? I did not hear him clearly or it just flew past me as I was trying to get through because my mind was not on that.

“Yes I need an ambulance and yes she has medical aid!”

I said immediately because they ask all these question which just waste time. South Africa has this thing about bureaucracy which often delays everything that you need doing and this was no exception.

“What’s her name?”

The lady operator said,

“Maam there is only two of on the medical aid and you can see that. I just said my wife needs an ambulance and it’s written there. Her name is Londiwe!”

I told her. This lady was not having it.

“Can you confirm her I.D number please?”

She asked.

“Are you serious? Her I.D number? I don’t know it by head!”

I told and I did not know it too. I was not being difficult.

“Ok then just make sure it’s there when the ambulance comes otherwise they will not take her!”

She told me. I intended to shout her but I did not have time. I gave her the address of where I was and she said the ambulance should be here in less than ten minutes.

“The medical aid lady was giving problems!”

I told the guard unnecessarily. He did not need to know that and I doubt he had medical aid himself so why would he care. The police arrived before the ambulance.

“This way!”

I heard someone say,

“This is the man sir!”

One of the ladies said. Initially I thought it was because I was with her so they wanted to ask medical question but I realized how dumb that was because these were police after all.

“Sir, how do you know this lady?”

One of the officers asked me.

“She is my wife!”

I told him and not confidently either. I could not say we were strangers nor could I say we were estranged without making them suspicious.

“So what happened here?”

He asked.

“She missed a step running up after me and she fell. Officer she is pregnant how far is the ambulance?”

I asked him. When I said the word pregnant people gasped especially the females. I could see by the bustling that they were getting angry.

“Its almost here. Are you going with her?”

He asked me.

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I am going with her, I did say she is my wife and she is pregnant.”

I told the cop defensively.

“Calm down sir you are sounding aggressive! We are just making sure of the safety of the lady!”

He said to me. The tense atmosphere was broken by the paramedics as they arrived and asked for space to work.

“What’s her name?”

One of them asked and I told her.

“Londiwe! Its ok help is here…”

The lady called out her name.

“We are going to take good care of you so just hang in there.”

She told her.

“Sir are you the one coming with her? We need to move!”

She said as they put her on the gurney.

“Officer I don’t think this lady is safe with this man. When they came in here earlier they were fighting and I am very certain that he has something to do with her accident!”

The security guard said to the police man. Security guards really wish they were police shem! What business did he have saying that to the police when he was not even there when she fell?

“I did not push her are you mad!”

I asked him angrily and with the people that had gathered it was actually starting to get tense. Nowadays if you accused of abusing a woman you can end up being abused by the mob yourself. I really did not want to be at the receiving end of a misunderstanding.

“I know what I saw. If anything you should be arresting this man otherwise he will get away with it!”

The guy emphasized. The women there also started agitating towards that.

“Yes. How long must women be abused and you police do nothing. Your Minister only works when things are put on social media so maybe if I post this picture online can this woman get justice!”

The other lady said.

“Wait, I did not push her! I did not harm her and you can’t do such a thing without proving that I did something wrong here!”

I told the lady but she just rolled her head and said,

“Of course I can, it’s my social media and people will either choose to believe or not!”

She said. I am not really active on social media but I know its power to destroy people. Once your picture goes up there you are screwed and people don’t even care about due process anymore.

“Madam if you post that picture up I will arrest you for preventing the course of an ongoing investigation!”

The police man said to her but the lady was not hearing it.

“I dare you too. I have taken your picture too and I will tweet that this police man stopped us from protecting a woman who is obviously being abused. What will you say then? We will force your minister to fire and you know how much he loves attention so what do you think will happen then? Arrest this man!”

She demanded from the police man who initially had not seemed fazed by all this but now I could see he was getting agitated.

“We have to wait for her to wake up and give a statement otherwise I can’t do as you please! Record me if you want but I am doing my job as I am told to do it.”

He told the lady as we went out. Thank heavens sanity had prevailed. This social media debate is really one that must be heard. You can be accused without a single witness and once the already angry Twitter and their poor cousins on Facebook hear about it then demands will be made for your head. If the court finds you innocent they will attack the courts for protecting abusers even if it was proved in court that no such thing happened. They are the ones who create the impression that the courts are incompetent when the reality is the courts are doing their jobs as per the evidence given to them. That was a mouthful.

“What’s causing all the blood?”

I asked the paramedic.

“She must have hit the ground hard. It’s a deep gash which will be stitched properly when we get there!”

She told me.

“Is the baby ok though? We only a few weeks pregnant”

I asked her.

“I can’t tell you that because I don’t have the right equipment for that. We almost at the hospital though so you will know soon enough.”

She advised me. The police car drove ahead of us as I could actually see its lights as it sped through the traffic lights. Londiwe was still not up when we got there. They took her to the back whilst I did the paperwork for her and by the time I got up they were not done with her.

“How is she?”

I asked the doctor who had attended her.

“She fell on her head but she will be fine. The baby is fine as well so that’s a relief too. She had another bruise on her back which is a day or two older! Do you know anything about that?”

The doctor asked me.

“No I do not!”

I told her.

“I am afraid I have to report it to the police as we do this to cases of suspected abuse!”

She said as she walked away. I just threw my hands in the air because come on now, things were falling apart fast. It was 45 minutes later when I got to see her.

She was up but barely.

“Londiwe are you ok?”

I asked her. She looked much disorientated and I was told they had given her something to sleep.

“You pushed me down the stairs! How could you do that?”

She asked me groggily.

“Hold up? Say what? I did not push you. You tried to grab me and you fell!”

I reminded her.

“Look you even scratched me here! I am not lying!”

I told her showing her the deep scratches but she was passing out even now.

“You pushed me…”

She whispered before she was out again. I did not see that there was someone behind me. It was the cop.

“You really are despicable. How could you push your pregnant wife like that?”

He asked me already holding his handcuffs.

“I did not push her!”

I defended myself.

“Your hands please, I am arresting you!”

He told me.

“You have got to be kidding me!”

I told him but he was not joking. I stretched out my hands and he said,

“Those are defensive scratches, I see them all the time in domestic violence calls we get. Deny it now!”

He said angrily at me. He was talking about where Londiwe had scratched me as she fell.

“It’s not what you think! We will clear all this when she gets up and you will seem like a fool!”

Well… I was wrong!

*********The End************

Michael Nkululeko Maphoto (fb)

Dear Mike

Hey hey Mr Mike,
Thank you for your wonderful blog. I started reading it back in my days at UJ and I remember how excited I was to have stumbled on your blog so much so that I started “recruiting” a few readers. I am currently based in Lesotho and have “recruited” more readers …. so yeeeeh man BIG UPS!!!!

Anyway …
I am so disappointed at my fellow people, I cannot tell you how many times I have heard people begging and pleading for ANY type of job and yet when something comes up they either look down on the job or mess it up intentionally. I use the word ‘intentionally’ so loosely because I have witnessed the most disappointing actions from people around me. I come from a business-oriented home (in the rural area) meaning we recruit the “desperate and the not so well educated” citizens so as to better their lives. On top of their salaries, we provide accommodation in our house as well as food, so the person practically becomes part of the family. For a very small business, we try our best to assist the person in terms of saving money and the person gets to go home every month end with their full salary cause they practically spend nothing. I have seen young girls and women come in and out of our home with stolen goods and money and ungrateful hearts. There may be three sides to a story but in my case there’s only two … From my side – people take advantage of the fact that they are treated like family so much so that they become too comfortable and forget that they are there for work. They start stealing from the same hand that feeds them and do less of their work disrespecting the owner of the business to such an extent that they partake in scandalous talk with the “outsiders”. We have inherited the FOMO syndrome … we don’t want to miss out, we want to have the latest fashion, have more money at the expenses of other people. We just want to take
And on their side, the longer they have been there the boring the job gets. They complain about fatigue and I mean its a spaza shop, you practically wake up in the morning clean and sit all day waiting for customers to come through and then as times goes on they start stealing and then resign because they “can’t take this anymore” whatever “this” is. And then the cycle begins all over again, the painful thing is the same people who messed up that job because it was too boring and too rural call and ask if the job is still available. Life will humble you, sometimes there are no second chances
Our parents worked for white people as domestics far away from their families and until today we have mothers and aunts that have worked for the same family for 2 decades or more. It would be ignorant and stupid to not compare today’s life to the past life because honestly what has changed, what opportunities are there? Yeh sure, you are educated BUT you are still unemployed, so unemployed that you are writing letters to Mike’s Blog begging and pleading for ANYone to get you ANY job even if its to be a cleaner with your “Degree’s, Btech’s and Masters” and those that have dropped out in grade 11 are still as lazy and insolent.
My point is, we go around hoping and begging for any job and when any job comes up we start acting as though we are better than that job, better than that title or position. I struggle to feel sorry for “desperate” people, maybe it’s because of what I have continuously witnessed – I could write all those stories here but my letter is already long as it is- or maybe I’m just so disappointed at how small-minded and unambitious people are. Bare in mind that we don’t always get what we want, that sometimes no matter how hard we fight for something or believe that something we deserve will come up IT WON’T and THAT’S LIFE … it’s not always a happily ever after for everyone. So whatever comes up, grab it as though it’s your life line, stop playing childish games. Desperate times call for desperate measures, that’s what they say right? So if that ‘low job’ comes up and you somehow think you are above it then stop wasting our time and just walk away. But if you want to do right by yourself and your family, Humble is the keyword to sacrifice

Thank you Bra’ Mike …
Continue to give us those subtle reminders and advices through your blog … we notice:)

20 thoughts on “Majuba 61

  1. I tried reading the essay but i couldnt …… anyhow

    Vusi Londiwe is and will be your downfall, second time you going to holding cells because of her.

  2. Is Londiwe setting Vusi up? But why? She seems even crazier than Naledi. Are there no cameras in this hotel? Cameras to prove that she fell? So confused and so angry. Like this girl is wicked.

  3. Yah nhe…todays letter…I get the feeling its directed to someone….anywhooo…

    Thanks Mike for the great read as always….eish , social media nhe…the intended purpose of it is immensely misused these days…and its getting worse by the day 🙁 🙁

  4. Dear Lesotho
    Since there is no way I can “unread” your letter, maybe I can humor you.

    Your perspective is that of a very priviledged position and there are no two sides here, just yours. How do you know that the spaza shop workers are happy in your family, or that you even pay them enough? You seem to make some serious generalisations and from what I see you are yet to understand the meaning of “desperate”. The notion that poor people are that way because of their stupidity and laziness is so Verwoed. You sound like you have a bone to pick with an ex employee of your parents, do that, and perhaps stock up on that Humility you so greatly reverence. The African mind still needs a lot of liberation and with the kind of thinking that you have, kuse kude phambili. Have you ever thought if its your condescending attitude that keeps people away from your home? and the advise you’re giving, who exactly is it for? There are people with real problems out there, don’t cause traffic.

    Anyways, thanks Bhut’Mike. Londiwe is obsessed and Vusi has no self respect, bayakhathaza.

  5. You need to encourage the people’s u employ to sit and study whilst in the spaza. I really hate Londiwe and Vusi needs to wake up really. He can’t even use his love for her as an excuse. What is wrong with her really? I would ask her to stay away until paternity can be ascertained and does t he gave messages with the sister begging him to hit her?

  6. Yes a any job still counts as employment but what if it degrades and demoralises you. When you sleep you are constantly haunted by the verbal abuse your employer subjects you to.
    I had to take a job as an assistant while qualified as an analyst but my manager made me do the most horrific tasks even making me clean her house. Babysit her kids and threaten to fire us if we work on public holidays. Once called and harassed me at my grandmas funeral. So no job is worth human dignity even if it means not affording toiletries.

  7. DSM… Hewweee heeweeee! I want to be beaten up during sex etc. There we go… londi wa Vusi. The bruises are from “2days”ago when she wanted it rough and violent.
    Guys remember she also took pics to use against Vusi.
    She is sooooo wicked!!!!

  8. a fresh letter for a change! tanki! i told you guys that this story is going to be more interesting. londiwe is getting into your heads lol! i wish that there were no cameras at the stairway since it is the cheap hotel lol. that will be more interesting.

  9. Angive ngingena sympathy for Vusi really I don’t. He urks me a lot.

    This message deserved a proper signature at the end. Lovely read

  10. That was such a painful letter to read, especially from another fellow black child. This perspective can only come from a privileged individual who does not know what it means to want better not only because u think u deserve better but u have earned that life you seek. Try having a degree n diploma, working 9_5 barely making minimum wage, cant even afford to be sick cos you dont have medical aid, student loans upto infinity, a family to support, if u think thats bad wait for it…. while u continue to study part time hoping that it will maybe change your life!

    Maybe u should work for your family n work for those peanuts u highly sing praises for, cos clearly u have time on your hands!

    Ever think that maybe your family owns a spaza shop cos God can clearly see you would never be able to handle a supermarket with your attitude.

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