CHAPTER 12
NALEDI MOLETSANE

My daughter and I are parked on the side of
the road waiting for her father to come help
us change the tyre. We got a flat on our way
home from her school, she had a play and I
went alone because Vhutshilo couldn’t get off
work early. We weren’t disappointed because
we know he’s always there for everything
else, and he will make it up to Basetsana over
the weekend. That guy is an amazing dad, I
want to do something big for him on Father’s
day. He has to know that I appreciate the
father and friend he is to Bassie and I.
He is coming with Karabo, his girlfriend. I
called him while they were on their way to
the cinema, I immediately asked that they go
on with their plan when he mentioned it. I
said I’ll call Mongezi to come help, but
Vhutshilo didn’t want to hear any of that
because the place we are stuck at is not safe
and he trusted himself to get here faster than
my best friend. That’s my baby daddy for you,
he will drop everything for his daughter and I.
I’m listening to miss Basetsana telling me
about the drama happening at her school. I
love it when she narrates stories to me, she’s
good at mimicking voices and it’s always
funny. Right now she’s telling me about Miss
Swanepoel and how stressed she was about
the play that happened this evening. My nine
year old just told me that her teacher doesn’t
have emotional intelligence, and that the
entertainment committee has to replace her
with someone who can work well with kids.
Basetsana will kill me with laughter, I promise
you. I wish her father was here listening to
his “sweet princess”.
Vhutshilo’s car parks behind mine and I heave
a sigh of relief. I ask Bassie to stay in the car
until I tell her otherwise because cars are
passing by at high speed, I don’t want to take
any chances with my baby.
I climb out of the car at the same time as
Vhutshilo, he is already rolling up the sleeves
of his shirt, ready to take care of this flat
tyre. I wave hello to his girlfriend who is
sitting pretty in the front passenger seat. She
waves back and gives her phone attention, I
think she’s mad because of the situation.
“I’m sorry for taking time, there was an
accident along the way,” he says as we share
a hug.
“It’s okay, you’re here now,” I say and let go.
He opens the door and talks to his daughter
for a little while.
“Let’s fix this baby up so my girls can get
home,” he says and rushes to the boot of his
car to get some tools. He comes back and
takes out a spare wheel from my boot.
“Your girlfriend is mad, you shouldn’t have
come,” he smacks his lips.
“She’s being childish. I couldn’t leave you and
our daughter on the side of the road for a
movie we can still watch tomorrow,” I take a
deep breath. I never wanted for this to
happen, Vhutshilo shouldn’t have to find
himself caught between his new love and us.
“Don’t be like that,” he shakes his head, this
stubborn man.
“Naledi, you’re the mother of my child and you
were with our daughter. It was only fair to
call me when you encountered a problem. Yes,
it was date night but an emergency happened.
I would have personally asked you to call
someone else for help if it was nothing
important. Karabo knows that Basetsana
comes first, her problem is that…” he takes a
deep breath, “Please don’t worry yourself
about her. You did nothing wrong, I’ll deal
with the matter,” I just nod.
Vhutshilo insisted on escorting us home, I
tried talking him out of it but I didn’t win.
He is definitely not getting any action
tonight, Karabo is pissed at him. He’s going to
have to do something big for her to forgive
him. But knowing my daughter’s father, he is
going to sit her down and lay everything to
her until she fully understands the dynamics
of his life.
I get to our gate and drive in, he’s parked at
the curb side waiting for the gate to close. My
daughter and I climb out and wave them
goodbye, he hoots then drives away.
“Manana,” I hear my daughter shout excitedly
from inside the house.
I thought Manana was only coming back
tomorrow, that’s Wednesday. I’m not
complaining though, I’m happy she’s here. This
place will feel like home again.
I take out my handbag and Basetsana’s
backpack and walk inside the house.
I bump into Maswabi on her wheelchair, she
looks like she just woke up from a very nice
nap. Why did she wake up? I mean it’s almost
8pm.
“Ma,” I say dryly, passing her.
“Yes, Naledi,”
I get to the kitchen and Manana is restocking
the pantry with Bassie helping.
“You’re home,” I kiss her cheek.
“Yes, Nyeleti. Where have you two been?” she
asks and I take a deep breath.
“She had a play and on our way back we got a
puncher. Her dad came and helped us out, he
even drove behind me till I got home,” she
smiles, Manana is very fond of Basetsana’s
father. I think it’s a Limpopo thing.
“Why can’t the two of you just start afresh?
He’s a great man,” she whispers and I laugh.
“Dzuni, you’re home,” we all turn and find
Maswabi at the door.
“Yes, I got in a few minutes before the girls,”
my mother smiles.
“Thank you for coming home, I missed you my
friend,” ma says.
“I came back because of them,” she points to
me and my daughter and I see sadness flash
across Maswabi’s eyes.
“Basetsana, let’s go freshen up and come back
to eat,” I don’t want my child witnessing this,
any of it.

SHLOBOSENKOSI MAVIMBELA

My son is beyond happy, this for him is a
dream come true. We thought we were only
getting a response from the owner of the club
tomorrow, but it came through today. He
chose to sell to me because he liked how I’m
not buying it to make money only, but to
build a legacy for my son who is passionate
about football.
He called in the morning and I couldn’t wait
to tell my son after school. I went to pick him
up myself and broke the news, he was
ecstatic.
We had to come to our favorite restaurant to
celebrate, he asked that we host a big braai
this weekend with his friends and our family.
I agreed because we are signing the contract
this Friday, we won’t be jinxing anything.
Everything else will be done next week during
the week.
I’m excited to share this with everyone but I
know my mother will just see it as me
spoiling Nhlagano. I’m going to have to sit her
down and make her understand that this is
not another useless gift. If we work hard and
smart we might become as big as the likes of
Kaizer Chiefs and Mamelodi Sundowns.
“Baba,” my son says and I look up from my
plate. His eyes are glistening with tears.
“Is everything okay?” he nods vigorously,
pressing his lips into a thin line.
“Yes, I just want to say thank you. I really
appreciate everything you do for me, you’re
the best dad any kid could ever ask for,” he
wants me to cry, there’s no other reason for
such heart warming words
“You’re the most amazing son, too. I’m so
proud to be called your dad,” my sister died
but she left me with the most precious gift in
the world. Nhlangano is the reason why I
managed to pick myself up and go on with my
life, he is the reason why I fought so hard to
be successful in life.
“I hope that I live to make you proud, baba. I
love you,” I fist bump him.
“I love you too, my boy,” he blinks and his
tears fall.
“Ahhh man. Let me go wash my face in the
bathroom,” he pushes his chair back and
stands up.
I pick up the fork and continue eating, this
food is delicious.
“Mr Mavimbela,” someone says, “I’m Miss
Gumbi, Nhlangano’s teacher. We met at the
prize giving ceremony,” right, I remember her.
I stand up and hold my hand out for a
handshake.
“Right. How are you doing?” I ask and she
nods.
“Well thanks, how about you?”
“I’m great, awesome. I hope my son is still
behaving,” her smile widens.
“He is amazing, I’m expecting a distinction
from him,” that’s great to hear.
“Miss Gumbi?” my son is back.
“Oh, hey. I wasn’t aware that your father is
here with you,” she tucks a strand of hair
behind her ear.
“I was in the bathroom. Are you here for
dinner?” Nhlagano asks.
“I was but my friend canceled on me. I’m
headed home now,” she explains.
“That’s bad, you can’t leave without eating.
Join baba and I,” he says and I mentally roll
my eyes. He is going to try and play cupid this
whole time.
“Oh no, I don’t want to disturb,” she says and
my forward son looks at me to insist on the
invitation. He is not smart at all.
“You’re not. Please, join us,” I open a chair for
her and she settles down. I call the waitress
to come take her order for a drink then food.
“You two seem very close, your wife must be
jealous,” that’s her fishing for my relationship
status.
“We are close but my dad is not married. He
doesn’t even have a girlfriend, he’s too
focused on me. I know I’m awesome but he
needs to find me a mother, I want siblings,”
He is Busisiwe’s son when he’s loosing it like
this. I hope my sister. Understands.
“Miss Gumbi, don’t mind this clown,”
She giggles, “Please call me Khwezi,” I nod.
“You also don’t have to call him Mr
Mavimbela. His name is Shlobo,” this child.
“You’re very forward,” he chuckles, “But
Khwezi, yes, you can call me Shlobo,” her
drink arrives.
We are no longer eating, we will ask the
waitress to warm it up when Khwezi’s food
arrives.
“Is he your only child?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” he gasps in shock and I
laugh.
“Not cool dude,” that’s what he gets for trying
to hook me up with his teacher.
“Would you like to come to our house this
weekend? We are having a braai to celebrate,
my father bought me a football club,” I’m
going to get him real good for doing this to
me.
“Oh, congratulations. I hope you’re still going
to university though,” she says and I smile.
“He’s definitely going,” that’s the agreement.
“So, will you come to the braai?”
“I would love to,” she answers and my son
looks at me and winks.