CHAPTER 06
DZUNISANI MABASA

I really enjoy spending quality time with
Naledi and Basetsana, I have taken them like
my own children. They mean so much to me
and being a part of their lives has healed
parts of me that I thought would always be
broken. Especially Naledi, this girl became the
center of my world the minute I laid my eyes
on her 23 years ago. Raising her gave me a
purpose and my life was never the same from
there. They are my family, Maswabi included,
even though she makes me mad most of the
time. I understand that she wants Naledi to
live a straight life and focus on important
things, but she is too hard on her and this girl
is only human. I always tell Maswabi that she
should allow Naledi to mess up now and again
because we are imperfect people. I pray she
realizes that she’s doing more harm to her
relationship with Naledi before it’s too late. I
don’t want her living with regrets but she’s
too stubborn, it’s either her way or the
highway.
We are in the lounge watching some singing
competition auditions. Some of the people are
hilarious, they cannot sing to save their lives.
I believe they just went there for their five
minutes of fame, but I guess it’s okay because
we are entertained by their horrible voices.
The front door opens and Naledi heaves a sigh
then closes her eyes. Its not nice for a child’s
joy to vanish when their parent gets home.
Maswabi is exhausting with her constant
complains and dissatisfactions. She enters the
lounge on her motorized wheelchair and
greets us, we all return her greeting.
“Manana, I think I’m gonna call it a night,”
Naledi says, getting up from the couch. Our
great night has come to an end just like that.
“You’ll leave after this episode, Nyeleti,” she
offers me a ghost smile.
“I’d love to but I’ve been yawning. I need to
rest, it has been a very long week,” she bends
down and kisses my cheek.
“Bassie, sleep with mommy tonight,” she says
to her daughter who nods excitedly.
I love the relationship they have, Naledi is
gentle with Basetsana. It’s really a total bliss
to experience her as a mother, most people
thought she was going to fail at it and she
proves them wrong with each passing day.
“Goodnight Manana. I love you,” those words
melt my heart each time she says them.
“Naku rhandza Nyeleti,” I say and she exits
the room, leaving the three of us.
“Basetsana, please take grandma’s handbag to
her bedroom then remove the decorative
pillows,” Maswabi says and the little girl
quickly jumps on her feet and runs out.
“You’re mad at me,” she says and I lick my
lower lip but say nothing back, “You cooked
breakfast and disappeared to your room this
morning. Did I do something to offend you?”
she asks genuinely and I wonder why she
never bothers to be this soft with her child.
“No, you just defeat me. You make me feel
numb,” that’s the honest truth.
“Is this because of what happened yesterday?”
damn right it is.
What she said last night when Naledi was
telling me what her friends husband did pissed
me off.
“Yes, Maswabi. You basically said it’s okay for
married men to see your child as a piece of
meat because she was lied to by a married
man. Do you think that’s alright? Oh wait, it’s
only wrong when you are looking at it from a
ministers eye not a mother,” she gasps in
shock.
“Dzuni,” I roll my eyes.
“Don’t nyuni me. Do you know how much I
wish I had a daughter like Nyeleti? Do you
understand how blessed you are to have her?
She’s your only child, your family but you
always treat her like nothing. I am tired of
this, it has happened long enough,” she is
blinking rapidly. This is the first time Minister
Moletsane has nothing to say in her defense.
“I don’t have a family Maswabi and you don’t
have one too. This, the girls are all we have
but you’re destroying it,” I know this little
speech won’t change anything about this
woman. She has a lot to deal with before she
can be able to mend her relationship with her
daughter. They say hurt people hurt people,
that’s exactly what’s happening here.
Maswabi cannot parent because her parents
didn’t raise her; she’s bleeding on Naledi and
she didn’t cut her.
I realized a long time ago that Maswabi
wasn’t ready for a child, she went out of her
way to get pregnant just to prove that she
can do everything in her condition. That’s
another reason why she is like this with that
girl.
“I’m sorry for making you mad. Please be okay
with me,” The only person who deserves an
apology from Maswabi is Naledi.
“It’s okay. Let me go get your food,” she
shakes her head.
“I ate at the conference center, but I can use
a glass of scotch. Have one with me my
friend,” I have a lot to do around the house
tomorrow, I don’t want alcohol.
“I’m good with alcohol but I’ll bring the
decanter and a glass,”
“Thank you.”

SHLOBOSENKOSI MAVIMBELA

Nhlangano and I are clearing his mother’s
resting place. We arrived in Mahlabathini less
than an hour ago and the first thing we
always do is visit my father’s grave then my
sisters. My mother is with us and she’s busy
telling her daughter that Nhlangano is going
to be a president one day because he got the
number one position at school. My son has a
mischievous smile on his face and I know he
finds what his grandmother is saying over the
top. He should leave my mother to day dream.
We get to the house and the first thing
Nhlangano does is boil water to take a bath. I
renovated my mothers house but the geyser is
always giving us problems, if you want to use
the bathtub then you have to boil water with
the 20 liter urn.
He takes out a fresh outfit and irons the t
shirt, this child will put on his best clothes to
just sit in the house. He hardly goes out when
we are in the village, he says it’s too dry and
there’s really not much to see. He used to
have friends growing up but I guess he
outgrew them.
“How many baths does he take a day?” my
mother whispers and I laugh.
“He is a fish, I think three times a day. One
when he goes to school, the second after
soccer practice at school and sometimes
before bed,” my mother claps once.
“He is washing all the melanin off his skin,”
she is horrified.
“He says it’s clean boys world wide. Did I tell
you that he has his nails done? Both hands
and feet,” you know ma is shocked when she
starts whistling.
“Are you sure he’s not a special child Shlobo?”
she asks with concern and I’m confused.
“Special how, MaZikode?” she shifts on the
couch.
“You know, like those boys who start acting
like girls and dating other men. I’m not
judging if he is, I’ll try and learn more about it
all. He is my only grandson and I love him,”
Nhlangano walks into the lounge laughing.
“I’m glad to hear that you are not homophobic
grams but nah, I’m not gay,” he says with a
chuckle.
“Then why all these baths and a love for
clothes. Your father tells me you do your nails
too,” he’s nodding.
“I take it all from baba,” he defends himself.
“I’m not as extreme as you, Nhlangano. Plus, I
need to look good always. I am a
businessman, looks matter,”
“I also need to look good. I’m signed to clean
boys world wide,” haike!
“Go switch off the urn. The water is okay
now. You want to finish my electricity in one
day of being here,” MaZikode doesn’t misuse
anything, she doesn’t care if she has it in
abundance.
“What would you like me to cook for you son?
I know you two eat take aways everyday,”
that’s not true.
I cook for my son and she has seen me do it.
Nhlangano has to eat clean because he’s a
soccer player. We do have takeaways but not
the way mama thinks.
“You can cook anything ma. Do you have coke
in the fridge?” I ask and she shakes her head.
“I’ll go buy it at the shop,” I get up from the
couch and take my car keys.
“Do you want me to bring anything else?” “No,
we have all we need. Thank you,”
she stops me as I’m about to walk out of the
kitchen.
“We have beautiful woman in this village son.
Widen your eyes as you drive to the store.
Nhlangano needs a mother and a couple of
siblings. Time is not on your side, you’ll be 50
soon,” oh Jesus.
I don’t need a mother for my son and he is
enough for me. I don’t understand why mama
keeps pressing on this matter. I’m good with
how everything is. Plus, there are grown
women who don’t mind physical relationships.
“Okay, MaZikode.”
I love the villagers, they will stop you on the
road and ask about Durban. Others stop you
to ask for R20 to buy coke while the women
tell me that their daughters are now ready for
marriage and they are fertile. I think my
mother went around Mahlabathini telling
people that I’m ready to take a wife. That’s
the only logical explanation because why
would mothers randomly tell me about their
fertile daughters? I just went along with the
banter because I didn’t want to be rude.
I finally get to the store and Mamu’Gasela is
struggling to pick up the grocery plastics,
where are her sons? Thalente said they still
live at home and they are struggling to find
jobs. They should be helping ma to carry these
plastics.
I quickly climb out of the car to assist her and
offer her a ride to her house, I’m crossing
fingers that she accepts my help.
“Unjani ma?” she stands up straight and looks
at me from head to toe. She has a disgusted
look on her face.
“I can take you home, if you don’t mind,” she
claps once.
“You want to kill me in a car accident the
same way you killed my Melamina?” she says
and I heave a sigh. It hurts that she is holding
me responsible for that, even though I also
lost my sister in that tragic accident. I wasn’t
even in the car.
“Mamu’Gasela, I know you don’t like me but
you have to remember how much your
daughter and I loved each other,” she’s
shaking her head with a hand held out to me.
“Melamina should have listened to me when I
told her to stay away from you. I knew her
doom was going to come from you,
Mavimbela men are all the same,” what is
that supposed to mean? “Move out of my way,
I don’t need your help.” she picks the plastics
and leaves angrily. What can I do to make
peace with this woman? I cannot even visit
Mela’s grave, the love of my life has no
tombstone. I need to make a plan with
Thalente to make sure she gets one.