CHAPTER 04
MASWABI MOLETSANE

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you
this, Maswabi. You are too hard on Naledi,
you’re forever making noise when she messes
up but never quick in praising her for doing
good,” Dzunisani says and I roll my eyes.
“And I told you many times too that I will
never applaud a fish for swimming. She is the
daughter of a prominent government
minister, a mother to Basetsana, she has to
act right at all times,” she clicks her tongue
and takes a sip of her whiskey.
Dzunisani is not just the house manager, she
is my best friend. She knows me at my best
and worst, I honestly don’t know what I
would be without her in my life.
“You have to treat her as your daughter first.
She’s only human, be compassionate.
I won’t lie, Naledi has always wanted your
attention and she knew the only way to get it
was to do something that would embarrass
you in public. She has grown up now Maswabi,
the things that have been happening are
normal. Almost every woman has fought in
the club and dated a married man without
knowing. You can’t punish her for the
mistakes she made as a child forever,”
Dzunisani has always babied Naledi, that’s
why she’s like this.
“I didn’t get any attention from my parents
and I have never done half the things my
daughter has done,” she scoffs.
I was just a few months old when my parents
gave me away to a white priest because they
didn’t believe God would give them a baby
with no legs. They called me a cursed child
and went on to live their lives with the
children they believe God blessed them with,
children with all four limbs. I was raised with
other orphaned children at the mission house
and from a young age I did everything an
able-bodied person did.
Whatever people said I couldn’t do I did. I
joined the ruling political party while in high
school and I was active. I was at every
meeting, rally, congress, march, you name
them. I knew the constitution and legislature,
I could answer every question waking up. The
history of those who came before us is
imprinted in my memory, I can recite
everything with understanding.
The top leaders realized how dedicated I was
and by age 19 I was working in the premiers
office. My hard work and dedication put me
there and also because I was representing the
disabled. The party wanted them to feel
included in the leadership of the country.
It was different to regional politics, cadres
there looked down on me. Woman would
gossip about me, wondering if I had a man in
my life with my “condition”. They would laugh
and say which man in his right mind would
sleep with me. That made them question my
ability to have children and it made me very
mad, I had to prove myself and my abilities to
shut them up. Age 20 I was pregnant with
Naledi, a miracle baby. I had high expectations
for my daughter but she has disappointed me
at every turn.
“Naledi does as she pleases. I told her not to
go out in public with Basetsana but she did,”
she claps once.
“This whiskey is messing with your head. You
agreed for them to go and see Vhutshilo,
that’s not a public place,” she says briskly.
“That Venda boy caused me problems too,”
Dzunisani takes my glass and I raise an
eyebrow, what’s her problem now?
“Maswabi you love to complain, Jesus! It was
Naledi, now it’s Vhutshilo. That boy has done
nothing to you and you know it. He has been
nothing but an amazing father to your
granddaughter,” I heave a sigh and hold out
my hand for my glass.
“You judge Naledi as if you’re an angel. Can
you imagine what would happen if the
tabloids found out about…”
I quickly interject, “I’m an adult and I do
everything in private. My daughter on the
other hand is always caught out in public
humiliating me and herself,” she rolls her eyes.
“You are the biggest hypocrite,” Naledi and
Dzunisani don’t want to hear the truth, that’s
their problem. “One day Naledi will get over
trying to please you and she will leave.
Maswabi you will regret so much and I want
you to know that I will not help you beg for
her forgiveness. I have tried showing you the
mistakes you’re making with this child but
you don’t want to see. I love you but
sometimes you just… Urgh!”
I don’t want to spend my Saturday night
talking about the embarrassment I call a
daughter.
“One day the both of you will realize that I
only wanted the best for her. That I wanted
her to walk in my footsteps and it will be too
late,”
“Which footsteps are you talking about? You
don’t have legs remember?” she says and I’m
thrown into a fit of laughter. Dzunisani will
not kill me.
“Hai! votsek Dzuni man.”

SHLOBOSENKOSI MAVIMBELA

I’m starring at the huge picture of Melamina
hanging on the wall, she has been heavy on
my mind since I saw and had breakfast with
Thalente. My heart is heavy, I miss her so
much. Seeing her little sister always leaves
me so bare, it’s like I’m seeing her in person
and yet I cannot caress her beautiful face and
tell her how much I love her because it’s not
her. I avoid meeting with Thalente because I
hate feeling this way, I hate feeling like I have
Melamina back only to realize that’s not the
case.
MaZikode, my mother told me not to avoid
Thalente because that will help my heart
accept that she’s not her sister. It’s not as
simple as she makes it out to be but she’s
right, I cannot always come back to this point
each time we meet. I’m gonna start calling
Thalente more and checking in because it’s
the right thing to do. She has taken me as a
big brother so it’s only fair that I start to act
like one.
A car drives in the yard and I quickly wipe my
tears and unmute the TV. Nhlangano is back
from Rajesh’s house, yesterday was the braai
he told me about. I allowed him to take the
car, I trust him not to get behind the wheel
while drunk. As much as I hate him drinking,
it’s another thing we cannot control. Teens
will lie and say they don’t drink but these
children buy expensive alcohol. He once forgot
to block me from viewing his WhatsApp
statuses and he and his friends had a table
full of
Cognacs and champagnes. I couldn’t even
afford a bottle of beer when I was his age.
My mother says I’m too soft with him, but
she doesn’t understand. I’m not parenting
with an iron fist, that’s why he is open and
honest with me. He doesn’t take advantage of
me and knows for a fact that dad doesn’t say
yes to everything.
I’d rather be soft and understanding than to
raise a lair because I’m too strict.
“Baba,” he throws himself on the couch.
“Nhlaks number ten,” that’s his jersey number.
“howzit boet? Missed me?” I chortle, shaking
my head.
“Nah, I enjoyed the peace and quiet,” that’s a
lie, the house was too quiet without him.
No one was challenging me on Fifa just to rob
me off the money we placed as a bet.
He is the gamer and football lover so his wins
are guaranteed. I just play because that’s one
of the ways we bond.
“Oh well, I had a great time. The morning
after the night before is what I hate,” he says
and I tilt my head to the side, wondering
what he means by that.
“Cleaning the house when everyone else is
gone and sleeping peacefully at their houses,”
that’s what they get for hosting braais in
people’s homes. They made the mess so they
must clean it up, it’s only fair.
“I just hope I won’t be getting a call from the
Naidoo’s, saying you boys trashed the place,”
he unties his shoe laces.
“No, baba. Everything is good. They inspected
the house when they got back,” that’s a relief.
“Great then,” he hands me the car keys.
“Thanks for allowing me to use the car,”
another thing I admire about my son is that
he doesn’t feel entitled to having things just
because he can. I started teaching him how to
drive at sixteen and got his license
immediately after he turned eighteen earlier
this year. He has never demanded that I get
him a car, or insist that I borrow him one. It’s
always me offering it to him and he
appreciates.
“Dad, I think I have figured out what I want as
a reward for performing great at school,” he
says and I sit up straight.
“I’m listening,” I wonder which designer he’s
going to tell me about this time.
“Yesterday while chilling the football
conversation came up. One of the girls that
were there mentioned that her father is
selling his team that’s in the first division,”
oh, I wasn’t expecting this at all. I was
already preparing myself for a trip to Sandton.
“Let me understand you boy, you want this
football club?” I ask and he nods vigorously. I
know he loves football and all but a whole
team?
“You know how passionate I am about
football baba. I want to play but it would also
be great to own one and build a legacy,” Hai,
I’m gonna have to think about this one and
get someone in the football industry to advise
me.
“I know you don’t understand much about
football baba, but I can set up a meeting with
my coach at school. He retired as a
professional league coach and he will explain
everything to you, there are also lawyers in
the football industry you can bring with so
you can see that it will be a good investment.
I mean you know many companies that we
could approach to be our sponsors,” he
thought this through in one night. I’m not
sold on the idea but I’m very impressed.
“I’m not promising you anything Nhlangano,
but I’ll meet with your coach and find a
lawyer and other bodies to help me make a
decision,” he nods vigorously.
“Thank you baba. And not to rush you but
please move swiftly, I don’t want to miss out
on the opportunity should you agree to buy it.
There are many like me wishing to own clubs,”
Hai qha! This is Shlobosenkosi’s son.
“I’ve heard you Mr. Mavimbela,” he bows his
head.
“Thank you sir,” he gets up and we shake
hands.
“What’s for dinner?” I roll my eyes.
It’s always food and clothes with this one.
“I cooked, roasted chicken and vegetables
then I made mash potatoes,” I had to learn
how to cook because of him. I wasn’t going to
raise a child on takeaways.
“Sounds good,”
“You’ll eat later. Sit down and tell me all you
know about this club,” he smiles.
“You’re still going to varsity even if I buy you
this team, yes?” he nods vigorously.
“Definitely baba. I can do it all,”