1

Stranger To Love
A sequel to Mathonga

Cheryl Zee

2
 Epilogue

It was unusual for him to wake up without her entangled in his

arms, she was a panda, who loved to cuddle while he was the
total opposite. Of course he had to compromise because a
happy wife, a happy life, right?
“KaMadonsela!” A frown found a way to his face, his barely
opened eyes browsed the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of
her.
His furrowed brows deepened as he saw a piece of paper on
the bedside table.

*I tried, but I can’t do this anymore.*

Ntaba’s head started spinning, it couldn’t be what he thought

it was. Khethiwe would never leave him, she loved him. His
next step was to call her, his heart jolted and sunk to the pit of
his stomach at the sound of the ringing phone.
“Where are you, Peaches? I’ll follow you wherever you are,
you can’t leave like this.”
The words were a secreted whisper, only for him to hear.
“Hello!” A voice said on the other line.
“Peaches, where are you? I’m coming to get you.” For a good
five seconds, he thought he had found his luck again. He
knew she couldn’t resist him, one word from him, and she

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was going to go back running into his arms.
“This is Amafu. Peaches is not here, she left.”
Damn…
“If she comes back or calls, please call me right away.” His
desperation turned into pleading.
“Yeah, no. That’s not going to happen, you’ve played with
my cousin enough. Leave her alone, besides, she’s never
coming back.”
The Amafu person dropped the call… rude.
Reality started to sink in and sting like a bad bitch. Ntaba
rushed out of his rondavel and into the vast darkness. It was
winter, nights were longer and days shorter. The sun rose at
7am if not towards 8am.
He hissed as the morning breeze hit his skin with a violent
touch, it didn’t matter that he was wearing nothing but boxer
shorts, cold weather be dammed.
“Khethiwe, Khethiwe.” The sound of his worried voice
boomed, hovering into the open air.
Maybe he was trapped in a bad dream, maybe if he called her
name as loud as he could, Khethiwe would materialise and
assure him that she will never leave him.
He walked into Nandi in the kitchen that smelt of coffee and
freshly baked scones.
“Ma, she’s gone. My wife is gone.” Panic had clung to his
voice, the audacity.
He was convinced that their love or whatever he felt for her
was timeless, that she was the only woman he wanted to
spend the rest of his life with.
It had to be her or no one else.
Ntaba felt his knees collapsing, they couldn’t carry his weight

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anymore. His back hit the wall as he felt himself fall into a
bottomless dark pit…
So… this is heart break?

5
 Chapter 1
***
Khethiwe

*Present day*

The first time I threatened to leave and actually went ahead

with it was when he didn’t love me, when I had no place in
his heart.
The second time, I didn’t threaten him. I gave him nothing but
silent treatment, he cheated and I stayed. I stayed thinking my
love for him will heal my heart.
I made it the first two days, on the second day I could swear I
was losing my mind. All I could see was him and… her.
Whenever he touched me, I couldn’t help but wonder if he
touched her the same way.
Strangely, everything about him began to tick me off. From
the way he snored to how he chewed, it was a panicking
moment for me. I mean here I was with the man of my
dreams, the man I loved more than anything in this world.
How was I starting to hate his traits?
Do I hate the woman he cheated on me with, that much? What
am I even asking?
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If I had a truck filled with water and she were on fire, I’d
empty the water in the river.
Of all the people Ntaba could have cheated on me with, he
went for Thethelela. Every little thing he did would remind
me of her and I couldn’t stay anymore. I couldn’t look at him
without feeling my heart tearing to pieces.
So I left at 4 in the morning, without telling him or his family
anything. I had a choice to write him a note, explaining why I
was leaving, it felt like a betrayal to myself.
But because I’m weak for that man, I scribbled down a few
words.
It was stupid of me to think I would hide from Ntabezikude
Khanyile, he came for me and I told him to leave. Of course
he listened, but he was back the next day and the day after. It
irked me that he didn’t respect my decision.
I don’t know why I wasted my energy being upset with him.
Eventually, the attention I was getting from him became a
favourite, it felt weird though that I began looking forward to
his constant, random visits.
The first time he didn’t show up, my heart drowned in sorrow.
I woke up the next day thinking he would come, when he
didn’t anger occupied my heart.
For a year he stayed away, he stayed away like I asked him to.
I had to live with that, it’s what I wanted anyway.
I moved to Durban with aunt Rebecca and found myself a job
at a local nightclub. Although his wife, I didn’t want to
depend on him and the Khanyile money.
I don’t know where my mother is, or how she’s doing.
Rumour has it, she lives with Ndimande now. Heaven knows
what they are doing.

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 …><…

To this day I’m still wondering why I was born, life seems to
have chosen my fate. Whoever is in charge of my life, needs
to get fired, they are doing a terrible job.
I feel so uncomfortable in this miniskirt wrapped around me,
and a top that barely covers my cleavage. Unfortunately,
that’s the attire.
As I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, a sigh
escapes my lips.
I hate it here.
Mrs. Prins has been giving me funny looks since I arrived this
morning, the club belongs to her. Well, she’s the manager.
A white manager is no different from the boss because she
gets a salary that’s covered in gold at the end of the month,
while the rest of us get shit covered peanuts.
Over the past year I gained a lot of weight. A size 48 was far
from my imagination, I would lie and say it is happiness
weight. I’m the most miserable person on earth right now, life
does not love me. It’s not the weight I’m complaining about,
it’s the emptiness in me.
My heart is in turmoil. Let me not touch on the chaos living in
it.
“Khethiwe, don’t you have a mirror at home? You’ve been in
there for a while now.” That voice instantly puts me in a bad
mood, Fiso can be a needle in my nipples.
Two seconds in the changing room and she is shouting out
orders. I ignore her and continue to doubt the outfit I have on.

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I need to talk to the manager and maybe get her to change the
uniform. The thought of those perverts out there undressing
me with their yellow eyes is unbearable.
“Are you camping in there?” The question is accompanied by
a consistent pounding on the door, I have no choice but to
walk out. She gives me a dirty look which I don’t care about,
had it been a different day, I would’ve retaliated.
“You look like you have a bone stuck in your throat, loosen
up will you. It’s a damn Friday.”
I know when I’m being indirectly insulted.
“I’m not in the mood Fiso, shove your comment down your
Adam’s apple.” I spit, eyeing her rowdy-self from the soles of
her feet to the top of her head.
She can gasp until the world ends.
“You bitch.” Her eyes roll up, may they stay there forever.
“Badass bitch, you mean?” That’s not who I am, I’m too old
for this juvenile conversation.
Fiso does not even reach the word intimidating, but she thinks
she is feared around here.
“Uzonya, Khethiwe.”
“Gag me, mhlath’ wakho.” I spit and find my way out, she
can argue with the wall if she likes.
Now the last time I clapped back we had a wrestling match in
front of the customers and I almost lost my job, the manager
hates me, she gave me a written and final warning. If I ever
fight back, she will fire me.
I exist the staffroom with a heavy sigh, I hope my encounter
with Fiso was not the start of a bad day. Satan also works in
mysterious ways.
As I enter the bar, Mrs Prins approaches me with her usual

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grumpy face. I don’t know what to sense behind her empty
eyes.
“Khethiwe…” This woman never misses a chance to slaughter
my name. “You’re working at the VIP section today.”
And there she goes after telling me nonsense, at least I should
have been given a chance to say no.
The VIP section is normally flooded with perverts who
disregard women and demean us to mere objects that have
something delicious under their skirts. I have to keep myself
calm and remember to breathe, especially when they start
throwing slurs at me.
Fridays we get to tend to a bunch of drunk taxi drivers,
wearing Brentwood and arrogant expressions.
These taxi drivers can’t be the type you find waiting taxis at
the rank, they drive big cars and walk like constipated goats.
It all comes with the attire, it’s always a yawning moment for
me.
The white men don’t come to the bar on Fridays, why would
they when it’s taxi-driver-Friday? Usually it’s Maskandi
music blasting through the speakers, today we are in Sophia
Town. Miriam Makeba is gracing us with her voice.
“Sondela phela sthandwa.” (Come here.)
Here we go.
With the tray in hand, I head to table with five drunk men.
Shoot me now! I will not come out of there alive.
Their eyes are on me, anyone can see that they are undressing
me.
“You’ve been through worse Khethiwe,” comforting myself
never works but I do it anyway.
I don’t get to finish serving the men when someone taps my

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ass, it has me abruptly whipping my head back. The culprit is
staring, bloodshot eyes filled with lust and yellow teeth all
out.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” I throw a glass of whiskey at
him. It lands on his face and leaves a bruise.
“You bitch!” The man barks, sizing me up, he’s actually taller
and bigger standing.
“Why did you touch me?” I yell, wanting to throw another
glass at him.
He denies me an answer, but rather roughly grabs my neck
blocking my airwave. My legs quake, I would most definitely
fall to the ground if not for his hands clutched around my
neck.
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” One of my
female colleagues shouts, the music has stopped.
All eyes are on us, I hate attention.
Before I know it, more people join in and attack the pervert.
He’s tackled to the ground, it looks like a mob justice.
“What the hell is this?” Mrs Prins sputters beside me.
“I don’t know,” I lie.
She annoys me.
“I’m calling the police,” she sounds irritated.
“Don’t bother, the mob will win this one.” I tell her.
This one clearly has never seen black people take the law into
their own hands, not even the police can stop a mob justice.
“They are going to kill him,” she’s shouting.
Sigh!
White people regard panicking as a sport.
I’m starting to feel sorry for the pervert, where are his friends?
They should be going “taxi-driver” on these people, I’m
expecting gunshots, cuss words, or a war of some sort.
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“That’s it, I’m stopping this shit right this minute.” Mrs. Prins
jolts forward, I don’t know why I grab her wrist.
“They will think you’re his accomplice,” I tell her.
Oh well, I tried. There she goes, towards the angry crowd. She
thinks her skin colour will save her from angry black people.
Just like I predicated, the people turn on her. She’s trying to
explain her way out, they are not listening. White privilege for
what!
Something is amiss though, I get my colleagues coming to my
rescue, especially the females because GVB…
Where did the other people come from?
My mind is working extra time when my eyes catch the
delightful sight of my husband, standing across the room.
Hands plugged into the pockets of his pants, brows lifted and
a sadistic smirk on his handsome face.
I should’ve known, Ntaba is behind this. Our eyes meet, he
winks.
“Stop this!” I mouth, he gets it and shakes his head.
I find myself marching to him, he has to stop these people or
someone will die.
His scent stirs my senses, driving me insane. I have to control
my hormones or he will see how much his presence affects
me.
“How did you get these people to do your dirty work?”
He smiles and leans in to place a kiss on my forehead. A dirty
habit.
“Hello to you too Peaches.” He’s too calm for someone who
started a fire and is watching everything burn down.
“Ntaba, they are going to kill him. Tell them to stop.” I’m
getting upset. “Will you listen to me for once?”
“He shouldn’t have touched you,” he says.
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I don’t know if it’s his calmness that irks me or that he refuses
to listen to me.
“Yes, he shouldn’t have touched me, I agree with you. He’s
been taught a lesson. This is my work place, Mrs. Prins is
about to die of a heart attack, and what if that man is a father
to someone? Killing people is not an extreme sport Ntaba,
stop getting an adrenalin rush from it.”
He smiles widely, “Okay, fine.”
He peers over his shoulder, I follow his line of sight to a man
staring back at him. Ntaba gives him a faint nod, the man
returns it.
In a jiffy, the mysterious man yells at the top of his voice,
telling the mob to stop. Shockingly, they listen to him.
As I shift my gaze back to Ntaba, I find him gawking at me.
My heart almost explodes.
“This place is not good for you, Peaches. Today it’s that guy,
tomorrow someone like him or worse will do the same. Who
knows what will happen next time? Come back home
KaMadonsela, you’ve been gone for too long.”
It’s not the first time he’s telling me this, perhaps it’s about
time I take up his offer.

His frequent visits started a month ago, at first I thought he

was just a regular customer, but he kept coming. He’d sit on
the same spot each time and stare at me while I did my
rounds.
I never got much done, he’d call me to his table every minute
of the day and because you can never deny to help a customer
in this place, I was forced to help him.
He never said anything to me, he’d order his regular drink,

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stay for 4 to 5 hours then leave. Until two weeks later he
stopped me as I was about to walk away from his table.
“When are you coming home?”
I was puzzled by his random question that the only thing I did
was stare blankly at him.
“You are royalty, for how long are you going to entertain
these drunks?” His eyes pointed here and there and
everywhere.
I knew what he was talking about and by God I had a befitting
reply, somehow my mind refused to comply with my mouth.
“Come home, KaMadonsela. Your husband has been
punished enough.” He said, shifting a little closer than a
customer should to an employee.
His scent had me craving for him and everything he was.

I have been thinking about going back since the first time
Ntaba brought it up, maybe I was waiting for him to come
fetch me and unfortunately, it took a year.
“Are you going home, or staying?” I ask
Deep down I want him to stay but I am not telling him this.
He smiles, “I’ll have my usual.”
He walks to his table, my gaze follows him before I’m
looking back at the man who had groped my ass. His so called
friends are helping him up, the attackers have gone back to
their daily duties. It’s as if nothing happened.
I will never grasp the power Ntabezikude Khanyile has on
people, maybe he is a god.

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 Chapter 2
***
Khethiwe

“What do you mean you are moving in with him? Were you
not the one who left him?”
My aunt does not understand my situation, I have explained
more than I should that I love Ntaba. He’s not perfect, he
never will be and I’m okay with that.
I think I’m okay with it, I am convinced that no one has ever
loved like I have.
“Khethiwe, how long do you think you can pour to that man
until you’re completely emptied?” She’s starting again, I’m in
no mood for this but because she is my aunt and I have
tremendous respect for her, I mentally chide myself and make
sure I don’t move a muscle from the bed.
She’s standing up, I can’t… when aunt Rebecca stands, it’s
never a good sign.
“That boy will never grow up, he will never see you for the
woman you are.”
I want to size her up, just in case her hearing is limited. It
happens with age and my aunt has reached her ‘griza’ days.
“I think you’re wrong aunty, Ntaba loves me.”
She looks at me like I’m bullshitting her, maybe I am. I know
though that Ntaba would take a bullet for me.
“I doubt he does, he’s using you for his selfish needs.” She
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sighs and finally decides to sit down, I was getting tired of
looking up at her. “My child, don’t you think you have given
that man enough of you?”
“I don’t know aunty. Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t.”
She sighs, “What do you think he’s going to do when you
have no more to give? You think he will stay around? He will
drain you and leave you dry, and he won’t want you anymore
when you have lost yourself.”
Too late for these words, I lost myself the day I fell in love
with Ntaba.
“I’m sorry aunty,” I say, folding my clothes on the bed.
I can feel her eyes on me, and understand why she would
want me away from Ntaba. I just wish she understood how
much I love that man.
“Khethiwe please don’t do this.”
She grabs my suitcase as I start lugging it toward the door.
“Aunty please don’t stop me,” I’m not in the mood for any
arguments. “If any of the things you said happen, I will take
full responsibility. I promise I won’t come to you to complain,
my heartbreak will be on me.”
Ntaba better not break my heart again, I’m leaving the woman
who has stood by me through thick and thin, disregarding her
word for him.
Aunt Rebecca exhales deeply, she folds her arms across her
chest. One thing about her is that she is quick to tears.
“Aunty you can’t do this to me, I’m not leaving the world. I’ll
still be in the same province as you.” There is absolutely no
reason for those tears.
She scoffs, “Please take care of yourself, for me.”
“I will aunty,” the motherly hug she gives me almost brings
me to tears.
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I guess this is it, I’m going back to Ntaba. In a way, I am
terrified to death, I don’t know how he is going to treat me, if
he is going to easily get bored by presence. I have a fear that
he’s forgotten my habits?
What if he won’t like the way I snore or the way I chew?
What if he won’t like the smell of my breath mixed with
toothpaste or how I occupy most of the space in bed?
It has never been an issue before, but now I come with
insecurities.

…><…

The taxi drops me outside his gate, it’s a single story house in
Hillcrest. Not too big, not too small.
I remember the day he bought it, he called me. I was actually
surprised by his call.
“Guess what I am looking at?”
These were his first words, for a second I was silent, my heart
had leaped to my throat.
I wanted to say something, I hadn’t heard from him in
months. I wanted to jump for joy, thank God he was okay and
still remembered me.
“I’m standing in front of our house, KaMadonsela.” He
continued as if he knew I wanted to hear him speak some
more.
“It’s nothing fancy but it will sustain us. We’re going to fit
perfectly in it, Khethi.”
I was in tears by that time, whether tears of joy or sorrow, I
don’t know. But hearing his voice and how he planned a

17
future with me did something to me.
I assume it’s him when my phone makes a racket in my
pocket. Bahle knows never to call me, aunt Rebecca must
have told him the news. She can be a bird sometimes.
I don’t take his call, he knows the rules I laid on the table
when he came back into my life.
He wanted a friend and I needed a shoulder to cry on, so I
gave him a chance.
I don’t have regrets, he’s been a good friend. Waned all the
loneliness that tried to overrun me.
His car is parked outside the garage door. I didn’t tell him that
I agreed to move in with him, I want it to be a surprise. Which
is a bad move, never surprise a man in his own house. You
never know what you might find.
My hands are sweaty as I ring the doorbell and my heart…
well, it’s ready to escape my chest and leave me to die on his
doorstep.
It takes a while for him to open, I don’t dare ring the bell for
the second time. I wait it out, sweltering under the Durban
heat.
A minute too long later, the door swings open with a slight
creak and here he is—the man of my dreams standing before
me. A frown instantly finds his face before he leans against
the door frame and plunges his hands in his pockets.
“Peaches!” It’s not a question, and he’s not surprised to see
me here. Bummer.
“Hey!” I’m a bit nervous.
“Come in,” he says.
His face lacks a smile, I’m not used to this Ntaba. I don’t
really remember him smiling all the times we met. Maybe he

18
did. My first step is in the lounge, it smells like him. There’s a
warmth that envelops me, a sense of belonging I have been
craving for the past year.
This is where I belong.
“Welcome home, KaMadonsela.”
The way he says this puts my heart on a rollercoaster. Also
there is a way he calls me KaMadonsela, it has me feeling like
I belong to him and only him.
“Our room is over there, you can put your bags.” He points to
his left, a corridor that probably leads to the room he speaks
of.
“Who said we’re going to be sharing a room?” I ask because I
haven’t confirmed any relationship.
He cocks a brow, his head slants to the side as he folds his
arms.
“I don’t remember saying I’m in need of a roommate, if I
wanted one, I would have put an ad out and I would get a guy
to live with me not a woman.”
Smart!
I can’t help but smile at this, he’s crazy. I take my bags to the
bedroom, it’s actually big and clean. I’m guessing he has
someone cleaning the house for him.
I wouldn’t put cleaning past Ntaba, he grew up with a silver
spoon in his mouth.
“It feels good to see you here, in our bedroom.” I hear him say
behind me and turn swiftly, our eyes clash. “It’s been hell-a
lonely without you.”
“It’s not like you lived with someone before.”
This is me testing if he has brought any women here, if he did,
I will have to sanitize the entire house.
“I grew up in a house full of people, surely you understand
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my pain.” He articulates, a smile stretching his mouth.
How is he providing all these right answers? This man is
basically telling me what I want to hear.
“Hopefully a woman’s presence will ease that pain.”
I sound like a flirt.
“My woman,” he utters and closes the space between us.
Why is my heart starting to act up? I’m not ready for any
heart palpitations.
“You are moving too fast, Ntaba.”
Did I mention we agreed to take things slow? Yeah, I don’t
know what kind of slow he is accustomed to.
“You’ve moved in with me, Khethi.”
My body shudders at the feel of his arms snaking my waist.
“That does not say slow to me,” the smart-ass adds.
“You know what I mean, no sex until I’m able to trust you
again.” I tell him.
Sex is always on his mind, that’s how he was able to cheat on
me. I will never not be bitter about that, in fact, he needs to
stop touching me.
He exhibits a Cheshire cat grin when I push his hands off me.
“I did apologise, did I not?”
“You did, but an apology does not mean that I will forget
what you put me through.” I tell him.
We’re silent for a while, staring at each. There is so much we
need to talk about, so many loose ends that we’re left open.
“Where is your baby?” I ask.
His face changes, he’s never said anything about his child.
“If we are going to be in a relationship, you need to let me in.”
My declaration deepens his frown.
“She’s around,” he says.
With a clearing of a throat, he moves to the door.
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“Let’s eat, I made dinner.” He introduces.
Interesting.
He shouldn’t think I’m letting this conversation go, I want to
know everything. Especially, since he wants us back together.
“You made dinner?”
The reason I’m laughing is because this man cannot cook, he
only knows how to eat that’s all.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing,” I lie, trying to curb my smile.
In the blink of an eye, Ntaba scoops me up in his arms and
throws me on his shoulder.
“Ntaba.” I scream.
I’m not exactly comfortable with my weight.
“Ntaba put me down.” I’m not done screaming, this man does
not care. He’s carrying me like I weigh nothing, which is not
the case here. We’ll fall with this pace he’s going.
“Relax Peaches,” he spanks my ass and releases a chuckle.
How can I relax when I’m being carried like a bag of
potatoes?
Look at that, we made it to the kitchen. The fool places me on
the counter, and immediately stands in between my legs. He’s
too close I can’t breathe.
“Nta… Ntaba.” Why am I whispering?
Lord this man is looking into my eyes, his hands are studying
every inch of my body. I feel myself tremble under his gaze
and touch, he still affects me the way he did back then.
“I missed you KaMadonsela.”
His head is buried in the crook of my neck as he says this, the
warm breath dancing on my skin forces a shaky breath out of
me.
“I missed your smell, your laugh, and how your lips curve
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when you smile.” He says.
His eyes connect with mine, before I know it, our lips meet in
a heated kiss. I missed him, more than my brain could ever
fathom, more than words could ever explain.
He pulls back and looks into my eyes again, I’m putty in his
arms, a clay at work and ready to see the perfect art he makes
out of me. Take it slow for what? I’m ready to give my soul
for this man.
“I missed you too Ntaba, living without you was impossible.”
Look at me selling myself short, fear love.
“Yet you left me?” He’s asking basically.
Yes I left him, I had to choose myself. Ntaba hurt me, I
couldn’t get over it besides, I was too lost in him that I didn’t
know who I was anymore.
“You know what you did, I couldn’t stay.”
He sighs, leans in for a light peck on my lips.
“Forget the past, we’re starting over right?” –Him.
Yes, we are.
But his daughter is part of that past, I don’t know if I will be
able to look at her and not remember his betrayal. What if she
will always serve as a reminder of his disloyalty?
“Yes, we’re starting.”
The girl that wanted to take it slow minutes ago is different
from this girl who just agreed to start over with him.
I call it the Ntaba-effect.
I see the smile I’ve been waiting for, it’s not fully there but
there’s something.
Ntaba presses a kiss to my lips, “Good, let’s eat so we can go
and have sex.” Really?
He opens his pots before I can protest, something wrong with
this man… the whole entire gender actually.
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“What did you make?” I’m keen.
He tilts his head to look back at me, “We’re having Phuthu
and Maasi.”
Oh hell no! My mind suddenly goes back to the tripe aunt was
cooking, I should’ve asked her for a skhaftin.
“Don’t you have anything else? I want comfort food.” I
whine, letting my feet dangle mid-air.
The man does not spare me a glance, his focus is on the food
in the pot. He is stirring the Phuthu carefully like it’s his
perfect art,
“This is comfort food.”
No it’s not.
“I meant warm food, like pap and vleis or stew.” I say.
Ntaba turns, fork held out in the air.
“Okay, we can order at a shisanyama.” He digs into his pocket
and reveals his phone. “What do you want?”
You can order on line at a shisanyama? Mmhkay!
“Hlabela will deliver the food, if that’s okay with you.”
Why is he asking me this and why would Hlabela deliver our
food?
“Are you misusing your big brother bundles?” I throw the
question at him and get to see him smile for the second time.
“He owns the place, him and Khothama are co-owners.”
Pastor Hlabela owns a shisanyama? Wow.
“I think we should go there, I want to see the place.”
How come Khushi has never told me this? We talk and not
once has she hinted anything even in passing.
“Let’s go,” Ntaba snaps me back from a mini mind trip.
He lifts me off the counter, I’m thinking the man will put me
down, but no… he throws me on his shoulder once again.
Complaining is a waste of time, so I let him lead.
23
 Chapter 3
***

Banami

From all the advice she had received, her father’s is the one
she’s considering, it makes sense. Somehow she can’t bring
herself to tell Ndleleni and time is not on her side.
It’s been weeks and every time she tries to speak to him she
gets cold feet.
Not because she’s afraid of him but doesn’t know how to tell
him, she isn’t sure if she wants the job.
She wants a career, she wants to be independent.
The job comes with great benefits, it’s an opportunity of a
lifetime.
He notices how she keeps staring at him, she seems unsettled.
Ndleleni is over the moon about them having a baby, she can’t
break his heart but he has to know.
“Your dad is really buying this house for your cousin?” She
asks, and gets no response from him.
Ndleleni claims that Vumile wants to buy a house for
Khothama and had asked for his opinion, so he asked Banami
to check the house with him.

24
It’s a two story country-seat, in the outskirts of Umhlanga
Rocks in Durban. The house leads to the living room the
moment you walk in, it’s an open floor plan, she can see the
kitchen from the lounge. There’s a double sided staircase,
leading to the second floor.
She loves the house, it’s her kind of style and Ndleleni sees it
in her eyes.
“It’s beautiful, your cousin will love it.” She says, as they take
a minute in the balcony.
“Do you love it?” What matters is if she loves it or not.
Banami takes in his facial expression. She can’t make out
what he’s thinking, this is what annoys her about him… about
all the brothers. They are closed off, making it hard for people
to understand them.
“Yes, this house is three times my house put together.” She
says, her eyes inspecting her surroundings. “He can have
coffee here and watch the sunset.” She continues.
Ndleleni is lost in her, mesmerised by her glow. It must be the
pregnancy, he’s never seen her glowing this much.
“Yeah… I know how much you love watching the sunset.”
She does, she loves looking at the stars too and admiring the
moon.
Banami looks at him, a smile stretching her luscious lips.
Their eyes lock.
They had a moment there.
“Smurffete, will you spend forever with me in this house?”
He’s not the most romantic person in the world, but she
appreciates his little gestures.
Her mouth drops open, she’s unsure of what is happening. He
said the house was for Khothama.

25
“This is your house,” he clears the confusion on her face.
“Your father bought us a house?” Banami asks, it’s too
farfetched.
Why would Vumile buy them a house?
“No I bought it.” Ndleleni.
“But you said… your cousin… I…” she’s stuttering.
He didn’t think she would be so stunned, knowing the domino
effect he has on her, he steps closer.
“I made it all up, I wanted to surprise you.” This is the part
where she jumps for joy and thank her lucky stars, God or her
ancestors. Anyone basically, she just has to be grateful.
“You lied to me?”
Okay! It’s not a big deal but she is making it one. Ndleleni’s
face is etched with confusion, he thought she would be happy.
“What? No Banami I…”
“Ndleleni you bought a house for us without asking me?” It’s
too much to take in.
“It’s a gift for you sthandwa sam, for our family.” A beautiful
gift.
“A gift? It’s a mansion Ndleleni, an expensive house. I can’t
believe you did this.” Her voice shook a bit there, she’s
heaving and struggling to stop her eyelashes from flapping.
Tears are just a call away.
“I don’t understand, I thought you would be happy.”
Any girl would be happy.
“Happy? You made a decision for me without asking how I
would feel about it. What if I had other plans?” Her head is
spinning.
“What do you mean?” Ndleleni questions, could she have
plans outside him? They should be building a family together.
“What plans? We’re engaged Banami. The only plans we
26
should have are for the wedding, the baby’s arrival and our
future. So tell me what other plans do you have besides
these?”
This one is quick to anger, however raising his voice at her is
not intentional. He loves this woman, it’s just that she’s not
making sense.
His standoffish behaviour took a lot to get used to, at first,
Banami would walk on egg shells around him until she
realised he would never lay a hand on her. That’s her
Ndleleni.
“I accepted a job opportunity.” She tells him, sending her gaze
away from his intimidating stare.
“So?” Ndleleni shrugs. “That shouldn’t stop us from taking
our relationship to the next level, you’re my fiancé and there’s
nothing wrong with me buying you a house.”
He’s right, she is carrying his baby. Her anger can’t be
justified. She’s obviously going to get married to the guy.
“Ndleleni you are not listening to me.” Banami yells, taking a
step away from him.
Irritation has found a way into her veins.
“But you haven’t told me why you’re so angry.” Give Caeser
what belongs to Caeser and Ndleleni gives her the same
attitude.
“It’s in Germany.” It’s out, she didn’t want to tell him in such
a hostile way that there was an opportunity and she grabbed it.
“What?” He asks, softly.
The look in his eyes is unbearable, Banami takes a hefty sigh.
This is not how she planned on telling him.
“I’ve been offered a job in Germany, it’s a job of a lifetime
and…” She’s calm now, her hands are trembling though and

27
her heart thudding in her chest. Knowing Ndleleni, he isn’t
going to take the news well.
“When?” He asks.
“I swear I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how?” She
tries to explain her way out.
“I said when?” He snaps.
“A few weeks ago.”
“And you were not planning on telling me, Banami? What am
I to you?”
His mood has changed, she recognises the look on his face.
He’s so norm to anger that it’s easy to tell when he’s about to
explode.
Banami is quiet, she has the answer but what’s the point of
answering him.
“Are you considering it?” His heart is already shredding to
pieces.
“Ndleleni I…”
“It’s a simple question MaFakude. Are you taking the job, yes
or no?” He yells.
For a second there, she thinks he will put his hands on her. It’s
how his eyes have turned red, and the veins throbbing on his
temple.
Banami withdraws a fraction, eyes wide with fear.
“Answer me!” Another roar from Ndleleni has her staggering
backward, he’s mirroring her movements.
“Dude I don’t know… yes.” He has to understand, it’s an
opportunity of a lifetime.
Ndleleni is shocked beyond words, he has never looked at her
the way he is looking at her at the moment.
Why does she want to be away from him? Doesn’t she love
him anymore?
28
“What about us Banami? Why did you agree to be with me
me if you were planning on leaving me?” He leans against the
sliding door, sure not to break the eye contact. But Banami
can’t stand that look of disappointment.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving you, I’m not…” What else can
she say? This one is sensitive with her.
“Then what? You thought we’d get married and I would see
you off at the airport after the wedding? Or did you think I
would wait for you while you pursue your dreams in some
foreign country? And how long will I have to wait? A year,
three years or five years, how long?” He’s shouting, it’s
getting too loud in here. Their first fight in their potential new
home.
“No… no I didn’t think okay.” She covers her face with her
hands, she doesn’t want to cry but her tears always betray her
when they argue. He is the only man who can subject her to a
river of tears.
“You can’t take that job.”
Really now!
That darn well sounds like an order. Banami is taken aback,
now this woman is an independent woman and Ndleleni knew
that the day he decided he wanted her in his life. She is not
dominated by a man, no way in hell will she ever be the ‘yebo
baba’ type.
“Excuse me?” That’s a more, kinder way of telling to fuck
off.
It’s not his decision to make.
“I said no Banami no, you will not go. I refuse to live without
you.” The yelling continues, her ears are starting to hurt.
Ndleleni wants her to understand him, to get where he is
coming from. He’s not perfect, neither is he the ideal guy. All
29
he wants is a woman to love, this woman to love. Why is she
doing this to him? Why is she bent on hurting him?
“It’s not up to you bhuti.” Bhuti? Bhu… Since when is he her
bhuti? Dude was okay, but bhuti?
Ndleleni frowns upon her words, he’s going one-on-one with
her stubbornness now.
“Well I think it is.”
Yep, anything that has to do with her concerns him.
“Did you even stop to think what this will do to us? I’m not
going to have a long distance relationship with you, Banami.
How will I see you?”
This conversation is taking a lot out of her, she wants the
squabble to stop. With a roll of the eyes, she goes back into
the house. Just exactly what Ndleleni hates, when the going
gets tough, Banami gets going as well.
“Banami…” Eish!
“Come on, you’re rich, you can visit every weekend if
needed.”
Really? Now, where is this child’s degree? Right now she
sounds stupid, at least that’s how he’s looking at her.
Irritation locates and finds him, he grabs her arm and pulls her
into him just as she turns to continue walking away.
“Do you hear yourself? That’s insane, we won’t survive a
long distance relationship.”
Is it right that she is afraid of him right now? Banami clenches
her teeth, squirming under his touch.
“We’ll make it work,” she escapes his tight grip with a gasp.
“We have to make it work. This is my dream Ndleleni, you
know this... you’ve always known this.”
“Oh come on, that’s ridiculous.” He throws his hand up,

30
dismissing her case. “Is that all you care about? Your job?
What about us?”
“What about us?” Banami mumbles after a sigh.
“I would give anything, anything for you Banami. To be with
you, I would give up all the millions if I have to, but you
won’t even sacrifice anything for me. Why won’t you let me
take care of you?”
“What are you talking about? I risked my job to help your
brother? Have you forgotten about that? I have been nothing
but selfless.”
She’s pointing a finger at him, he’d protest if she wasn’t this
woman. However he met her like this and there is nothing he
can do to change her.
Banami hates arguing with this stubborn man, and the last
thing she wants is to cry over this entire mess.
“Then please, please don’t ask me to live without you. I don’t
understand why you want to give up on us.” Ndleleni
implores.
Looking into her eyes should help plead his case. It should
help, especially when she sees how desperate she is.
“I’m not giving up on us, stop being difficult Ndleleni. You’re
being selfish.” She’s yelling again, must be annoyed or tired
of trying to convince him. The conversation is going nowhere
slowly
“I’m selfish huh?” He asks, it’s not him talking anymore but
the anger.
“Yes.”
“You know what? You’re right, I refuse to live without you.
That’s how much I love you, but you’re selfish too.”
He’s shouting, accusatory finger pointed at her. Their quarrels
never get this intense. Banami can’t help but wonder what has
31
happened to them, how they got here.
With a sigh, she folds her arms across her chest and mumbles,
“I’m tired, Ndleleni.”
“I’m not letting you go.” That’s his response, he missed the
part where she is tired of all this.
“I’m going.” She mumbles, tears pooling behind her pupils.
His words have hurt her, maybe she wants him to hurt too.
The anger in her wants him to hurt too.
“If you go, I don’t know if I will wait for you.” He
manoeuvres past her, finding his way out of the room.
This might be the last time they enter this room, Banami has
said, in not so many words that she does not want this house.
“Is that how you feel?” Banami exclaims, marching behind
him. “Is that how you feel Ngwane?”
It’s frustrating that he’s ignoring her, she thinks of stopping
and letting him walk on. But she wouldn’t be Banami Fakude,
this man just dropped a bomb on her.
After everything they have been through—everything she has
done for him, he has the audacity to say that to her.
“Stop and talk to me like a real man,” honestly… what kind of
nonsense is this?
Ndleleni does her bidding, stopping on his tracks. He’s that
unapproachable Ndleleni again, the standoffish guy who
pushes everyone out and lets nothing in.
As he crosses his arms over his chest, he scowls at her and
says one word he can never take back.
“Yes.”
Banami is attacked by a gasp, this, she did not except from
him.
“You know what, I’m tired. I can’t do this anymore.” She tells
him.
32
There is no strength left in her to fight with this man.
“You can’t do what?” He queries.
“This, us.” Her finger goes back and forth, pointing at their
figures. “I’m tired of this relationship Ndleleni, it’s draining
me.”
She just had to add a scream to release the anger suffocating
her.
“Then leave,” Sure he doesn’t mean it, does he? “Leave if you
are tired. Walk away, I’m used to people leaving me anyway.”
Okay, mistakes can’t be repeated.
Her mouth drops to the ground, one of her wide eyes releases
a tear.
“Maybe it’s your fault that they leave because you push them
away. I am not your mother Ndleleni, I will not make the
same mistake she did.”
Aish! Touchy! This has got to cut deep.
“What does she have to do with this?” His jaw ticks as rage
fills him up.
“You’re so insecure because of what she did to you, she
betrayed you and you think everyone you love will do the
same.” Banami.
“Take that back, Banami.” She of all people should know that
his mother is off topic.
Bless her wicked soul!
“No.” A shout from the madam. “You need to get over it, stop
thinking the worst of everyone around you.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re seriously using my
mother to get back at me?”
At this point they are yelling above each other, a competition
to be heard first.
“You were right, I’m also tired of this. I’m done.” Ndleleni
33
barks his return, he’s stepping closer, posture predatory and
eyes swimming in fire.
A referee is needed here.
“My mother might have used me, but at least she stayed. She
had a choice to leave, but she stayed.” Ndleleni.
She stayed because… argh what does it matter?
“Don’t you dare compare me with your mother, I am nothing
like that witch.” Yeah… she’s nothing like Dalisile… well she
only knows little much about the woman who birthed the man
she loves.
Ndleleni has no explanation for his words, why he would
suddenly compare her to Dalisile. He can tell her heart is
shattering into a million pieces.
“What do you want me to say? You’re acting like her, riding
on the boat of selfishness.” Ndleleni.
Whatever that means…
Banami eventually allows more tears, even the strongest
hearts break.
“I chose you Banami, I would choose you over, and over
again. But if you want to be selfish then go ahead, be selfish.
It’s all about you anyway, what you want. I know you will
never choose me, so go to Germany. But don’t even think for
a second that you’ll find me waiting.” He is acting like life
has tricked him somehow.
He’s walking away again, “Ndleleni we’re not done talking,
get back here.”
Ndleleni is master at ignoring people. “Ndleleni!” She
bellows.
Getting no response, she runs to catch up with him and uses
great force to slam her fists on his back. The brick that is
Ndleleni does not move an inch, but Banami’s small frame
34
staggers back.
She thinks she can balance herself, grab on to something. But
there is nothing behind her but the staircase, a scream emerges
from her mouth when she feels herself falling backward.
“Ndleleni!”
It’s too late when he turns, she’s already tumbling down the
flight of steps and lands with a great fall.
“Banami!!!” His eyes are wide with shock, red with tears and
caught like a deer in headlights. It takes a second for him to
get down to her, she’s not moving.
In just a matter of seconds their lives have been turned upside
down. Today was supposed to be their happy moment, they
were supposed to be celebrating their new house.

35
 Chapter 4
***
Ntabezikude

He had it hard after Khethiwe left him, he had to learn to live

without her. Adapt to her absence in his life, the empty bed at
night and the quiet mornings.
Life had to move on, he had to pick up from where he left off,
go back to working under his father like all his brothers.
With Vumile retired the company was left in the hands of all
them.
However, Ntabezikude wanted to be close to his daughter.
Out of anger, her grandmother had packed up and left for
Durban. He had to follow them, it was the only way he could
build a relationship with Zamangwane.
Mathonga advised it, it’s what the ancestors wanted as well.
Above everything, he wanted a fresh start in a place where
nothing reminded him of Khethiwe.
So, he moved to Hillcrest Central, leaving Mathonga and
Hlabela in the royal house.
Months after he moved, Kenneth Mkhize approached him
with a business proposal. He wanted to open a restaurant in
Hillcrest, the opportunity to have something for himself
presented itself.
36
Mathonga wanted in as well, a legacy for his children. So they
merged and made it happen in a space of a year. It is now one
of the affluent and prospering restaurants KZN.
He’s still starting out, it’s been one heck of a year and having
the words “serial killer” hanging over his head is challenging.
He can’t walk in public without turning heads, some adore
him and wish they would rub shoulders with him—while
some curse and ridicule him, wishing he should’ve been
sentenced to death in prison.
“Who in their right mind kills children?”
He would hear voices muttering and feet stumbling behind
him and still be unbothered. This man was blessed with a
heart that gives no fucks, he is living life like nothing
happened.
As they enter the eatery, all eyes turn and lips start moving.
People are talking and staring again, it’s making Khethiwe
extremely uncomfortable.
“Maybe we should go back home,” says Khethiwe.
“Why?” As always, Ntaba is not bothered.
“People are staring Ntaba,” she’s getting restless.
“If you always worry about what people think, you will lose
your sanity Khethi.” As if he is sane.
He holds her hand and starts lugging her to their seat, their
order is brought almost immediately.
“Where is Hlabela? I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
She hasn’t seen any of the brothers in a while, Ntaba
welcomes a frown.
“What do you want with Hlabela?” Only he can ask such a
stupid question. Khethiwe keeps the answer to herself, it has
Ntaba chuckling lightly.

37
“Hlabela and Khushi are leaving for India after Zakhe’s
wedding, they’ll be touring the country.” He laughs.
“Why are you laughing?” Khethwie.
“Because they will be touring India,” he doesn’t explain
further. Of course he expects Khethiwe to get the inside joke.
The look in her eyes says she’s clueless.
A waiter serves them with a menu, they place their orders.
A flash goes off, and catches Ntaba’s attention. He looks up
and a frown catches his features.
“Hey, what are you doing?” That’s Khethiwe barking at a guy
who is taking pictures of Ntaba.
The young man giggles and continues.
“Will you stop? What you’re doing is illegal you idiot.” She
pushes her chair back, with plans of approaching the man. Her
hand is gripped before she could stand, a frown finds her face
as she glances over at Ntaba.
“Let him be,” he says.
And dear Khethi… oh she always listens to this man… well,
she used to.
“But Ntaba he’s…”
“I don’t mind, it’s nice being a celebrity.” That’s sarcasm
talking.
Ntaba whips his smiling face to the young man, licks his oil
stained fingers and stands to meet him.
“You’re the giggling giant, right?” The young man clearly
means no harm, he’s smiling like a freak. Ntaba doesn’t return
the smile, his privacy was invaded and that’s a big deal to
him.
“Do you need anything ndoda? I’m trying to have a quiet
supper with my wife, you’re disturbing us.” He utters,
clutching a hand on the man’s shoulder.
38
The young fellow grows nervous, customers have halted their
suppers just to watch, clearly anticipating a violent response
from Ntaba.
“No… nothing.” The young man gulps. “I’m just a fan, it’s
my first time meeting a real life serial killer.”
Oh! Makes sense now, he’s fanboying over the Khanyile
giant. His words don’t move or affect Ntaba, he’s used to
being called a serial killer.
The name “The giggling giant” was given to him by fans after
watching him slaughter the Sangwenis remorselessly. He does
not acknowledge the name but it’s who people recognise him
as.
“Can I take a picture with you? My friends will be so
jealous.” The man’s nerves seem to have disappeared.
Ntaba can only nod, he’s not the first person he’s entertained.
It gets worse when women ask him to sign their butts, boobs
and panties.
Two more young people join in the picture, they flee the
second it’s done. Ntaba can go back to his food and woman.
“What?” He’s asking an upset Khethiwe who is leering at
him.
“Why do you entertain them?” She asks.
“They are just kids, let them live.” Yeah, kids who are
gobsmacked over a man who killed innocent people.
“Ntaba, they call you a serial killer. You can’t allow that, they
are simply tainting your name.” Worry lies in her voice.
“My name is tainted already, what’s the worst that could
happen?” He really does not care.
Khethiwe heaves a sigh, she can’t understand why he’s not
reprimanding the people that call him with such a bad name.
“What about your daughter? What will you do when you drop
39
her at school and her friends call you serial killer?” She’s
taking it too far now, Ntaba chuckles.
“That’s not going to happen because I will never take my
daughter to school.” He says.
He’s not quite sure how Khethiwe feels about his daughter,
this is the second time she has brought her up.
“Are you ashamed of being seen with me in public, Peaches?”
This question was long coming.
“I wouldn’t be here,” she sounds hurt.
He wants to apologise, but he doesn’t randomly play on the
wings of sorry.
“Khethiwe!” A voice calls behind her, she whips her head
towards the exit and her face gleams with excitement at the
sight of Nala, Khushi and Funokule.
Ntaba has his eyes glued on her, the smile on her face is
priceless.
“You knew they were coming?” She asks, after catching him
staring.
“They heard you were back and wanted to meet you.” His
response.
The reunion is loud and attention grabbing, a bunch of women
who get along in a one room is equals to a headache. Ntaba
stands to take his leave.
“You’re leaving?” Khethiwe asks, looking a little worried.
“I’m not going to hang out with women,” it’s not that he is
sexist, he is just trying to avoid a headache.
“Call me when you’re done, I’ll come and get you.” He leans
in to kiss her on the cheek.
“Don’t worry Ntaba, we’ll drop Khethiwe home.” Nala says
with a huge smile accompanying her statement.
Ntaba nods and takes his leave, this is a new start for him.
40
Having Khethiwe back means becoming a better person and
not just for her but the family they will soon have.

41
 Banami

Her womb is empty, there is no baby anymore. When the

doctor delivered the sad news, her heart cracked.
Her sister was the first person she thought of when she left the
hospital, so she drove to Eshowe. Ndleleni had gone out to
make a phone call when she sneaked out on him.
“There’s no baby anymore.” She cries on Makwande’s door
step.
They are five years apart, Makwande being the eldest.
“I didn’t know where to go.” Banami explains her sudden
visit.
Her sister pulls her into her arms, it should make her feel a
little better. However, Banami bursts into a flood of tears.
“It’s okay my love, I’ve got you.” Makwande says.
Minutes later they are cuddled up on the couch, Banami is
narrating everything to her sister. How the fight with Ndleleni
started.
“He was angry, he yelled and I yelled back. We said hurtful
things to each other.” It’s not who they are, Ndleleni is a
gentle giant. He hardly ever shouts.
“I couldn’t stand that he made a decision without telling me, it
made me so angry that I ended up saying regretful things. We
both said things we shouldn’t have. But what hurt me the most
was when he told me to leave. How could he do that? He told
me to leave as if I never meant anything to him.” She’s
42
crying.
“But why would he tell you to leave? That man loves you.”
Makwande.
“I don’t know, I wanted to hurt him so I told him I was taking
the job. I haven’t even made up my mind yet, but Ndleleni
pushed me. Does he take my love for him so lightly?”
“Did he tell you that it’s over?”
“No…”
“Look Nami, I can’t attest to what happened between you
two. I wasn’t there therefore, I can’t conclude anything. I
know one thing though, that Ndleleni loves you and you love
him. That man is crazy about you, he would literally give
anything to be with you.” Their love is too precious to go to
waste.
“That’s what he said.” Banami shrugs.
She knows how much Ndleleni loves her, she’s never been
loved like that in her life. But things are different now, they
lost their baby because of the fight they had. Will she ever get
over what happened?
“Then don’t let him go Nami, fight for him.”
Banami heaves a deep sigh and slouches back on the couch,
“Why can’t he fight for me? I need him to fight for me.”
“That man has been fighting for you from the beginning, he’s
always chosen you over everything. I don’t know him that
well, but I bet he would chose you over and over with no
doubt whatsoever. Don’t you think you should do the same?
Choose him for once, let him take care of you as a man. Isn’t
that what he needs? He needs you to jump and trust that he
will catch you no matter what.” Makwande shifts closer to
place a hand of comfort on Banami’s lap.
“But he hurt me sis, I lost my baby because of him.”
43
“What I understood from what you told me is that you hurt
him as well, don’t put the loss of the baby on him alone. Did
he purposely push you down the stairs?”
Banami is not okay with this questions, she incredulously
stares at her sister.
“Whose side are you on Kwande?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side, I know what being away from him
will do to you. Nami, are you sure you can live without him?
Can you guarantee that you can live without Ndleleni?”
Food for thought!
The thought of being without Ndleleni is terrible, she can
hardly breathe just by thinking about it. The memories they
had made, the love they share.
Banami wants it all back, she wants to be happy with him
again. Darn that stupid job, she chides herself for even
thinking about going away.
How do you fix this? How do you take back every hurtful
word you said to your beloved?
She is clueless.
Ndleleni was hurt, she saw it in his eyes, she heard it in his
voice. The way he moved and how he touched her. That was a
different Ndleleni, a broken Ndleleni.

44
 Chapter 5
***
Khethiwe

It can only be Khushi leading us to unholy places, as to why

we agreed to follow her to a club in Durban... beats me!
“Don’t drink too much Khethi, or else Ntaba will slaughter
us.” Khushi laughs at her own joke.
Jokes about Ntaba and slaughtering people are not funny.
“Ntaba is on mission win Peaches-back, he’s not about to ruin
that.” I love Funokuhle for saying that.
The thought of a changed Ntaba makes my insides dance.
I don’t know if these people are laughing at me, Funo’s joke
or something else.
“It’s great to have you back, Khethi. None of us thought you
were ever coming back.” Nala says.
It feels good to be back, and to freely hang out with my
people. They toast to my return, I see a more excuse to drink.
The gathering is going well, although I’d rather we had a
small gathering at home.
“Vukuzakhe is going to kill me,” Funokuhle is drunk silly and
keeps repeating the same thing. “He doesn’t know that I’m
here.”

45
… and that’s his reason for drowning in alcohol.
“We’re not even married yet and I’m already a bad wife.”
Is he crying? Gosh he’s crying.
“You mean husband, darling.” Khushi corrects him.
I’m so focused on his ridiculousness that I didn’t catch that.
A smile crosses his faces, “He calls me his wife during our
kinky moments.”
He blushes.
There’s a moment of silence, dazed eyes on him before we’re
dying with laughter.
“Please tell me you did not just say that,” I say.
Funokuhle giggles, “What? Zakhe is a different person in the
bedroom, you guys would be shocked.”
I’m shocked by the thought of him being kinky.
“You two only do it in the bedroom?” -Khushi.
She has a hand against her mouth, ready to laugh at my friend.
“Nope,” a blushing Funo adds another giggle. “This morning
we did it in the bathroom, he had half of my body on the toilet
seat.
“And where were your legs?”
Oh my God, Khushi!
“Don’t answer that,” I tell him.
We should be arrested and locked up for years for imagining
Vukuzakhe doing the deed, he’s the same as Vumile, it’s
wrong to think of them having sex.
Khushi replies with a frown, she has no filter, none
whatsoever.
“Mathonga doesn’t know I’m here as well.” Nala complains
too.
“I didn’t tell Ntaba either.” I lie.
That man knows where I am, with who and how much alcohol
46
I have left in my glass.
“I say we tell them the truth, Khushi lured us here.” Nala,
sipping the last of her drink. “I have a son guys, he’s probably
crying for me.”
Haibo! Why does she speak like she’s lost her way home?
“Nala, are you drunk?” I have to ask, she’s acting strange.
She shakes her head, “No, but I want my husband.”
Tears? Wasn’t she crying for her son a second ago?
“Are you pregnant?” I throw another question at her, why else
would her moods be all over the place?
“No! I’m drunk.”
Oh, she’s that type that cries in bulk when drunk. Shame!
“Can we have fun and distress, please? I’m leaving for India
next week, you guys would understand my heartache if
you’ve spent time with my Indian family. Those judgemental
fucks, I know they are going to drag my husband.” Khushi
complains, her face wrinkling in irritation.
“I’m getting married on Saturday, this gathering should be
about me.” I’m starting to love drunk Funokuhle.
There’s a way he flips his hair and licks his bottom lip, he’s
the most adorable thing I have ever seen.
My timid Funokuhle has become an influencer in a space of a
year, it all started with a TikTok dance video. I didn’t know
he could even dance, people loved him and wanted more.
He has fans now and they are the reason for the blue-tick on
his TikTok and Instagram account, he’s gone to receiving
modelling gigs.
I remember the first time he wore a weave and makeup, I was
mesmerised. His husband to-be has been surprisingly
supportive.

47
“Great!” Khushi shoots up from her seat with a drink in hand.
I swear this one drinks for all the times she wasn’t allowed to
drink by her strict parents.
“I don’t care what we’re celebrating, let’s party.” She breaks
into a strange dance move. I want to tell her never to do that
again.
I turn my gaze to Nala for a laugh, she’s engrossed on her
phone, a saddened look on her face.
“What happened?” I ask.
Nala raises her eyes and sighs dejectedly.
“It’s Banami, she lost her baby.”
Banami was pregnant?
The atmosphere suddenly changes, I guess we’re done
partying. We can’t possibly be throwing our legs when we’ve
lost a baby.
“We have to go back, she needs us.” Khushi suggests.
“There’s nothing we can do for her, she’s probably with
Ndleleni. I don’t think we should crowd their space at the
moment, we’ll go see her tomorrow.” Nala.
There’s complete silence save for the music, I glance over at
the bodies dancing to the music and guilt washes over me. We
shouldn’t be here.
“Let’s go home.”
I expect them to argue but they grab their belongings. As I
check my phone on our way, my heart almost stops at the
various number of missed calls from Ntaba.
Great, now I have to explain why I didn’t take his calls.

48
 Ndleleni

One knock at the door and a moment later it swings open, her
sister is not wearing a friendly face.
“What are you doing here?” She asks.
Tricky question, of course he’s here for his woman.
“Where is she?” Ndleleni asks, running his eyes into the
house, but he can only see what Makwande is letting him see.
It didn’t take long for him to figure out where Banami could
be, her sister is her backbone, her lifeline.
“Is she here Kwande?”
He’s asking because more than a minute has passed and
Makwande has not answered his question.
Makwande sighs, “She doesn’t want to see you.”
That’s half the truth and something Ndleleni is not going to
take, he can be stubborn when provoked.
“I need to speak to her.”
“You can’t, she’s sleeping.”
“I’ll wait.”
“I doubt she wants to see you, why don’t you come back
tomorrow?”
“I’m not leaving until I talk to her.”
“Must you be so stubborn, Ndleleni? My sister lost her baby
because of you, you promised to protect her. Why is she
hurting then?” Makwande spits, ignoring the pain in his eyes.

49
“And I’m sorry, I made a mistake okay. I should have
controlled the situation knowing she’s pregnant. Now I’m
here to make things right. I have to speak to her, she has to
know how sorry I am.”
“I understand but…”
“No you don’t understand,” he interjects. “I’m losing my
mind here. I have to talk to her before I go crazy.”
The sister exhales, “I can’t let you in without her permission.
What if she doesn’t want to see you?”
She’s always been the overprotective sister, Ndleleni
appreciates that but now is not the time.
“Come on Makwande.” He howls at her, exasperated as he
scrubs his face viciously.
“Hey don’t yell at me, believe me, I want you guys to make
up but not like this. You need to calm down first, you might
end up saying things you’ll regret again. Go home Ndleleni,
I’ll call you when she wakes up.”
Great! Now what?
His shoulders hunch as he leans against the door post.
“How can I go home? I’m going crazy here, I need to see
her.”
This is torture, he needs to know what Banami is thinking.
How she feels and if she’s okay.
Pushing Makwande aside, he forces himself into the house. It
takes him a few steps to get to the lounge, he finds Banami
standing in the living room, wide eyed and in tears.
The urge to run to her and embrace her is beyond him.
He sees pain in her eyes, and wants so much to wipe them
away.
“Nami, I’m sorry, he didn’t want to leave.” Makwande
explains.
50
The sisters gaze at Ndleleni who has not blinked a wink, so
much is running through his mind he has no clue what to say
or do first.
“I don’t like seeing tears in your eyes,” finally something
comes out.
Banami’s eyes connect with his, “It’s funny how you’re
always responsible for those tears you can’t stand to see.”
No, this is not going to work, the distance is not going to lend
a helping hand. Ndleleni takes steps toward her, he doesn’t
stop when she steps back.
“Don’t come near me.” She yells, he stops.
“Can we please talk?” Ndleleni.
“We have nothing to talk about.” Banami replies, dejectedly.
He knows this is a ploy to push her away.
“There’s so much I need to say to you, Banami.” Ndleleni
takes another step closer but Banami is not letting him near
her.
It’s getting frustrating, Ndleleni doesn’t like that she doesn’t
want him around.
Just that morning they were in each other’s arms, life was
beautiful, they were more in love than ever.
“I’m sorry.” Genuinely, he is.
She scoffs, “Sorry? I’ve heard that word so many times, I
don’t think it means anything anymore.”
It has to be anger talking, Ndleleni can’t think of any other
reason why she’s trying so hard to push him away.
“I take it all back, everything I said to you. Forgive me
please.” He says, grabbing a hold of her hands.
His eyes are working on pleading on his behalf. Banami can’t
look into them, it’s too painful so she drops hers.
“Give me a chance, Banami. Let me show you how much you
51
mean to me. You’re the only one for me, there’s no one else.”
At this point, he doesn’t know what he would do if she sends
him away, how he would live. He pulls her into his arms and
waits to feel her arms around him.
“I’m sorry Smurfette, I promise to hold your hand through
everything. I will hold you down and walk this journey with
you.”
Although he has so much to say to her, this is where he ends
it. He knows Banami, if he pushes she will push back and that
won’t be good for their relationship.
Getting no response from her, he lets go and creates space
between them. They lock eyes, and for what seems like
forever, no one utters a word.
The love she feels for him is written in her pained eyes,
Ndleleni sees it and can only hope that it works in his favour.
He needs this woman back home with him.
Banami exudes a hefty sigh and looks at Makwande, it’s not
shocking that she’s still standing there.
She is a protector.
“I’ll call you,” she tells her sister and allows Ndleleni to take
her hand and usher her out of the house.

52
 Chapter 6
***
Khethiwe

It’s been a week since I moved in with Ntaba and I am having

the hardest time ever, he has my heart, Lord knows he does.
But it’s so hard, I’m a bloody insecure person.
Randomly, my mind would take me back to the past.
One look at him and something tells me that I am not enough
for him.
That I will never be enough and there will always be a woman
better than me for him, and that makes me angry. I lash out at
him more than I should, and apologise a second later.
Basically, I have made life difficult for the man I love.
Saturday is finally here, Funokuhle asked me to be part of the
bridal team.
I think that big headed fool I call a husband has everything to
do with it.
It’s bloody late notice, but because the Khanyiles are loaded
with Mandela’s face, anything became possible.
After that stolen night with Khushi, the man I chose to marry
a year ago wouldn’t let me travel with the bridal party.
53
He mentioned something about not trusting them, truth be
told, I wasn’t listening.
“If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be going to the wedding. I’d
rather spend time with you,” his words, not mine.
At this point, he would say anything to score points with me.
Should I tell him he’s on probation for life?
Jeer!
I’m a sucker for weddings, who would’ve thought? The
couple didn’t write their own vows, they did it the traditional
way.
Funokuhle had no one to give him away, it’s not only because
he chose a man whose brother killed his family but also that
he’s marrying a man.
His mother’s family is just as homophobic as his father’s
family.
The reception is breathtakingly beautiful, everything makes
me think of my own wedding.
Lord! I want to shoot myself for thinking Funo will wear a
wedding dress, when I found out they were getting married.
Curse my mind.
My friend is actually matching his husband. They went for
black tuxedos, casino royal is the theme.
Today, I have met all the Khanyiles you can find out there.
The drunk uncles, the bitter aunts and gossiping cousins. I
have met homophobes as well—yes they attend gay
weddings.
“Are you okay?”
If this question comes with a million rand, I’d be fit to mingle
with the Real Housewives of Durban.
“Stop asking me that,” I want to snap at him.

54
Why is it so hard? He deserves all the hostility coming at him.
“And can you move, you’re sitting too close.” I mutter, letting
my lips spread into a forced smile.
Our table is occupied by the brothers and their partners, Nala
and Mathonga look too mushy; they need to stop.
Banami is lost in space half of the time, Ndleleni has not left
her hand. Hlabela keeps snatching champagne glasses from a
drunk Khushi, it’s hilarious.
Khothama reminds me of the man I married, I have lost count
of the number of women he has danced with. I’m pretty sure
they all have his number by now. The fool is taking advantage
of Zilile’s absence.
“Khethi,” my husband takes my name with gritted teeth.
“I understand you’re angry with me, but can we at least
pretend we’re happy? It’s my brother’s wedding.”
Yeah right!
“Was it not you who said we shouldn’t come to the
wedding?”
He’s contradicting himself.
“That’s because I wanted to spend the day with you, in bed,
having mind blowing…”
“Spare me the details,” I interrupt.
If he won’t scoot then I will.
“Do you hate me that much?” He moves closer, his eyes are
glued to me.
I take a moment of silence because I love him to death. I’m
not telling him though, or he will hurt me again thinking I
would move mountains and all the Thethelelas in the world
just to be with him.
“What will it take for you to forgive me?”
“Will you be able to rub Thethelela off your skin?” I’m
55
looking at him deep in the eye, making sure he sees how
gravely serious I am.
“KaMadonsela,”
“Thought as much.” I stand to leave but he grabs my hand.
“Sit down…” that sounds like a threat. He thinks he’s Rambo
and I’m terrified of him.
“Let me go or I will cause havoc in this place.”
Not really, Funo is too special to me.
There’s an ugly ringtone coming from his pocket, he pulls out
his phone and frowns at the caller Id.
“We’ll finish this later. I have to take this call.”
I trace his steps as he walks out, and realise I’ve been holding
my breath. Ntaba makes me so nervous, it’s crazy because I
should be used to him by now.
Funokuhle is on the dance floor with Vukuzakhe dancing his
life away, my friend found a way out of his shell. I love this
for him, I love Zakhe for him. He makes him happy, he needs
it after losing his entire family.
He sees me staring and waves, I’m yet to see a brighter smile
than the one on his face.
I smile when he whispers something to Vukuzakhe, they both
turn their eyes to me and for a while it seems the Khanyile
giant is sulking. He pecks Funokuhle’s lips before my friend
is making his way to me.
“Mr. Khanyile.” I throw my arms around him to congratulate
him. “You look amazing by the way, but the smile on your
face is your best outfit. Who are you wearing?”
He laughs, it’s so light and free.
“Vukuzakhe Khanyile is my designer.” At his response, I
break into light giggles. “I definitely recommend.”

56
“Argh! I have worn a Khanyile before and he tore my smile
into shreds.”
The atmosphere changes because of my big mouth. Funo has
never hidden how much he dislikes Ntaba on my behalf. The
gloomy ambiance does not suit the setting in this place, so I
bring my smile back.
“My Khanyile is a fong-kong.” I tease.
Ntaba is skating on thin ice. I’m not done torturing his ass.
Funokuhle chuckles, awkwardly.
“He loves you, you know that?” Is he seriously asking me this
nonsense?
“We’re not talking about Ntaba, not on your wedding day.” I
have to stop him before he makes me cry, not entertaining
thoughts of Ntaba is good for my mental health.
“Babe, can you do me a favour?” He takes my hand into his
with this random question.
“Well, that entirely depends on the rest of the information
you’re about to give me.” I reply.
“The wedding singer cancelled last minute.” He winces as if
preparing to take a risk.
“So you want me to find someone to replace them?”
“No I need you to stand in for them.”
What?
“I can’t sing.”
What makes him think I can?
“Remember that one time you dragged me to church, I heard
your voice. You just need a voice coach, otherwise I’m
jealous of your voice.”
This man’s marketing skills once wore a graduation cape.
I’m shocked, “Wenja!”
I gasp softly, my voice cracking with laughter.
57
He’s laughing with me, how do I say no to this face?
“They were on the schedule and people are expecting to hear
LaSauce’s song.” Funo pleads.
Oh hell no—that “I do” song makes me gag.
I’m in a tight spot, I can’t make the guy grovel on his wedding
day. A simple nod sends him to the moon and back down to
earth.
“For this kind gesture, may Ntaba make your dreams come
true by giving you multiple orgasms…” He says excitedly.
“I’ll change my mind,” I threaten.
Funo lifts his hands in surrender, a mischievous smile
plastered on his face.
There he goes, pouncing back to his husband. Vukuzakhe
looks like he can breathe now, shame he’s whipped. I feel
sorry for him.
Love is a trap.
It’s so hard for me to look away, the sight of them sharing a
kiss and how Zakhe holds Funo in his arms is so captivating. I
wonder what Funo whispers to him because they glance over
at me with smiles on their faces.
I want to go home, all this love is making me sick.

Hesitantly, I plod toward the stage, nerves are threatening to

make fun of me, it’s a good thing I know the song by heart. It
will do justice to my ugly voice. The crowds ogle at me the
moment I hold the mic in my hand.
A few people laugh when I open my mouth and let the words
out, Khushi and Nala are among them. Idiots.
To divert my attention away from them, I run my eyes around
the crowded hall, in search of Ntaba.
I thought he said he’ll be back, why is he glued to the wall
58
like that? Both hands packed in his pockets.
Dammit this man, is he trying to be rotten meat and attract
flies to him?
He’s suddenly moving his hand toward his waist, I know a
gun sits there. The angry look on his face tells me that he’s
going for the gun and the notorious looking man approaching
him is the reason.
His whole stance screams gangster.
Is anyone seeing what I’m seeing? There’s about to be a
shooting in this place. Ntaba can’t do that, it’s his brother’s
wedding.
I cut the song and quickly get off stage, no one claps for me.
Of course I can’t help but notice that.
Ntaba sees me nearing, he blinks, unknowingly giving himself
away. In a flash, he moves past the man and has my wrist in
his hand.
“Ouch, Ntaba.”
“Let’s go!” He hisses.
He hauls me through the crowd and like a child I follow him
trying to keep up with his bloody long legs, and because I like
things, I turn back.
“Don’t look back.” He mumbles like it’s a kept secret.
I keep my eyes forward. The silence accompanying us to the
car is loud, I have so much I want to ask him. I don’t want to
be that crazy girl in public, I will attack when we get to the
car.
Would you look at that? He’s getting the door for me, I’m
basically being forced here. Romantic gesture my foot.
“Where are we going?” I’m taking it one step at a time.
He ignores me, and focuses on starting the car.

59
“I asked you a question Ntaba, where are we going? The
wedding is not over yet.”
I am not going to shout because he’s the crazy one not me.
“Home.” His one word answers are so frustrating.
“Is it because of that man? Who is he? What did he want?”
I should be asking why he’s speeding.
“He’s no one.” The bastard is so fluent in the devil’s
language—lies.
“You were about to pull a gun on him… at your brother’s
wedding reception. Who is that man, Ntaba?”
He gives me a brief stare that’s meant to put me back to
submission, as if I ever were there.
His eyes go back to the road, this man does not want to give
me an answer.
“More lies Ntaba, really? Is this why you came to find me?
You brought me out of my safe space and back into your
crazy world only to lie to me again? Are you bloody kidding
me?”
Growing up means you yell at your elders, look at me. I’m not
grownish anymore but grown.
His gaze intensifies, his jaw ticks and locks.
“I’m trying to protect you, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He
mumbles under his breath.
“He wants to hurt me?” I ask.
Should I even be surprised?
“I didn’t say that.”
Well, that’s what I heard. He is speeding, perhaps that is his
plan. He wants to kill us.
“Then what, Ntabezikude? What the hell is going on? You
dragged me out of my friend’s wedding like I was some piece
of furniture which I did not appreciate and you won’t tell me
60
what is going on?”
This tendency of raising my voice will get me in trouble one
day.
“KaMadonsela, you know I love you, right? But don’t ever
raise your voice at me like that again.”
Typical black man, I should get myself a Tim. You yell at
them as much as you want and they still treat you like a
marshmallow.
I click my tongue louder than I intend to, I’m given the brief
look again ushered by a frown.
“I am not going to repeat myself, Khethiwe. If you are not
going to respect me as your husband, then I suggest you don’t
say anything at all because you will not like me if you
continue with your shit.”
Hee!!!
This man is taking his anger out on me, have you ever?
I fold my arms across my chest, look out the window and roll
my eyes.
Rha! I want to scream.
Ntaba’s protection is not the normal kind, blood is spilled and
people die. He places a hand on my thigh and slides it under
the dress. A familiar look rests on his face, the horny bastard
has the audacity, after talking to me like a patriarchal idiot.
“I’m sorry.”
Would you hear that, he’s trying to score points with me so I
give him some.
“Your skin is so soft.” He adds.
I’m good at rolling my eyes and I do it so well, I should be
getting paid for it.
“Please drive with both hands, it’s a long distance and I don’t
want to be involved in an accident.”
61
I’m not playing nice with this man, he’s not out of the woods
yet.
He chuckles darkly, and continues to harass my things. That
hand is too close to my panties, I feel betrayed by my
throbbing clit. Ntaba notices how I’m struggling to keep my
knees closed, I’m a squirmy slut.
“You know where the danger is?” He asks, stealing a glance.
I notice how droopy his eyes are, hinting at lust. I’m going to
starve Ntaba, by the time I’m done with him, he will be
begging Mathonga to give him a love portion.
“What?” I ask because what he just said is stupid.
“The danger is here,” his fingers slightly play atop my panties.
Shit! When the devil comes to seduce, he does not dilute.
“Stop touching me, I don’t know where those fingers have
been.” I shove his hand away.
The smirk playing on his face hints at victory. One slap across
that arrogant face is all I need.
He’s receiving a call, I’m told to answer and put it on speaker.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me, I know you are a
classified man-whore.” I tell him.
I mean, why else would he want me to place the call on
speaker when he has air-pods on?
“Just take the call KaMadonsela.”
Yesis!
I conform lest he goes beast on me.
Khothama’s voice fills the speakers.
“Yeah, you’re on speaker mfethu.” Ntaba says.
That’s definitely code for “be careful what you say, I have a
dumb fool in the car.”
“Hi Khethi.”

62
Khothama’s carefree demeanour would put anyone in a good
mood.
“How did you know I’m here?” I ask.
These Khanyiles are not to be trusted, including the gifted
one. They all stem from the same bloodline.
Khothama chuckles, “If my brother is not with you, then he’s
miserable and not answering calls.”
The lies men tell… I should write a book about that.
“How far are you?” Is asked as if it’s a secret.
Ntaba glances over at me and in this instant, I’m able to read
his expression. Something is happening, I just know it. “Right
behind you.” Khothama answers.
As I turn, my eyes pop out of their sockets. His silver-grey,
Toyota Yaris is right behind us.
“How did he know where to find us? His head was under
some whore’s dress when we left the reception.” I say.
It wasn’t, but he was dancing with a girl.
“I don’t know.”
I’m not imagining Ntaba’s dismissive tone.
The rest of the drive is quiet, save for the songs of struggle
softly keeping us company in the background.
Curse his taste in music, the stupid song is frustrating me. I
need to turn that off, as it goes deadly quiet, his brows meet to
create a frown.
The car stops at the traffic light, he must really want to look at
me because he looks over, and as if it’s intentional; our eyes
clash. I want to look away but it has become a struggle,
everything in me comes to a standstill, but my forward heart.
It’s swirling and swaying, pouncing and skipping.
It’s the Ntaba effect.
Nothing is written in his eyes this time, he’s blankly
63
inscrutable, save for the dark intensity residing in them. The
bastard.
“Something is wrong with your eyebrows, they’ve been like
that for a while now. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
My statement must have left a sweet taste in his mouth, the
Mageu-drinking, Toppers-eating bastard bursts out in loud
laughter with his head tilted back.
Something twirls in my stomach that I almost jump up, his
laugh does things to me—they call them butterflies.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” He says, shaking his head.
“Maybe you should see a doctor for your stubbornness.”
I beg to differ, I just choose not to take nonsense from anyone.
Especially him.
The last time I did, he tore my heart to pieces.
“It must be contagious because I got it from you.”
My clap back seals his mouth shut and has him shaking his
head once more, the seriousness is back.
Moments later he pulls up at his house, and right on cue his
phone rings. I’m glad we’re not in public, why would you
have “Ayasaba amagwala” as your ringtone?
“You go ahead, I need to take this call.” He’s dismissing me.
Now I’m curious as to who’s calling, blame my insecurities.
“Are you hungry?”
Slap me for asking and caring.
It’s after 10pm, but I’m sure he can eat. He didn’t eat anything
at the wedding. He’s not a picky eater, nor is he a foodie. If I
make something he doesn’t like, he might nibble a few bites
and that will most probably tick me off.
“No.”
His tone is dismissive, it’s getting to me now.

64
I jump out and close the door a little too harshly. Maybe I
shouldn’t have done that, but Ntaba annoys me when he treats
me like a child.
I’m too caught up in my own feelings that I walk past
Khothama, ignoring his friendly smile.
The house lights are on, how did I not take note of this?
“Hello!” I announce to no one in particular.
It could be one of Ntaba’s floozies, I’m ready to burn a bitch.
I hear the sound of a baby crying, it’s mingled with the sound
of the TV.
“Hello!”
An old lady is standing before the kitchen counter, a baby
bottle in hand. My eyes involuntarily whip towards the
ground, and my insides grow cold at the drop of a hat.
Thethelela’s daughter is here.
Ntaba didn’t tell me that the baby will be here, I would’ve
asked him to take me home had I known.
“Ntaba said it was okay to bring Zamo over.” She’s
explaining herself, it must be because of my stone cold
expression.
I fake a smile.
“He’s outside, he’ll be in in a minute.” I tell her.
She nods and looks at the baby toddling on the floor probably
because I can’t keep my eyes off her.
I can’t do this, yes I’m bitter. Thethelela took so much from
me, I still hate her.
“How do you sleep at night knowing what you did to my
daughter?” The old woman’s words stop me from walking out
of the kitchen.
“Excuse me?” I’m sure I didn’t hear right.

65
Disgust paints her face, “Wasn’t it enough that you had the
man, why take my baby away from me?”
How dare she? I hate her and the fact that she looks like
Thethelela makes me hate her even more.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I say.
“He killed her.” She says, eyes full of bitterness and
resentment.
Ntaba killed Thethelela? I heard about her death from Nandi,
she didn’t mention how she died.
The woman picks the baby up from the floor, she’s probably 2
years old now. I can’t see any Khanyile resemblance.
“I know how entitled you rich wives are. You blame the other
woman for your husband’s infidelity.”
Oh she better not be coming for me, I might forget the
wrinkles on her face and be impudent.
“Do you have proof of what you’re saying? If my husband
hears this, he will…”
“My daughter told me everything before she took her last
breath, she told me how that boy pushed her out of a moving
car.”
Shame, it must’ve been scary for her. That’s the thing with
Ntaba, he’s a monster yet people mess with him.
I want to feel sorry for Thethelela, as a woman I should be
throwing the word GBV at Ntaba. Maybe I’m a heartless
bitch, maybe I’m a bitter black woman. Maybe I’m fucking
livid.
“I’m going to ask you again, do you have proof that my
husband murdered your daughter besides word of mouth?”
I’m calm only because she is a pensioner.
“I trust my daughter…”
“And I trust my husband,” I interrupt before she takes her
66
insults further.
“Now if you are so sure that he killed your daughter, why are
you here?”
“Because Thethelela made me promise that I won’t keep
Zamo away from her father, I’m only fulfilling her death
wish. I despise people like you and your husband.” She says.
I really don’t care what she thinks of me.
“That’s not my problem, you’re entitled to your feelings.”
Stay calm Khethiwe and breathe.
She’s murdering me with her eyes, I should care but I don’t.
“One more thing, next time you feel like bringing the baby
over, run it over with me first. This is my house, not Gold
Reef City.”
Yeah! That was un-cold for, I couldn’t help it though. As for
Ntaba, he finishes every strength in me. What the hell is this
obsession of killing people?
The woman’s loud cackle reaches me as I waltz out of the
kitchen.
Sigh!

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 Chapter 7
***
Ntabezikude

To say he is a burning house would be an understatement. The

unexpected is always at the door like death, tonight came as a
shock. He hates surprises and Mlondi Madi’s presence was
definitely a surprise.
“What’s wrong with Khethi?” Khothama throws a question at
him as he enters the car.
Ntaba gestures that he is on a call, sure he doesn’t mind
talking about his wife. This is what this phone call is about
anyway.
“Bad news.” Ntaba starts as he regards Khothama with a look
of concern. “Mlondi is out, he’s back.”
“Shit! This can’t be good, when did he get out?” The voice on
the phone belongs to Muphumuzi.
“I don’t know but this is bad.” Ntaba.
Panic has the audacity to attack him. They all know what this
means for all of them, what it means for the people they love.
Mlondi Madi is not just a jail bird who was caught because he
was on the wrong side of the law, he was betrayed by Ntaba,
and his brother Alfred Madi. Muphumuzi was in on it.

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Khothama has nothing to do with any of this, but he has
everything to do with his brother Ntabezikude and whatever
involves Ntaba, involves him.
Maybe if Mlondi didn’t let greed get the best of him, maybe
they wouldn’t have done what they did.
It started with a tipoff, the plan was to dress up like
electricians, go into John Ward’s house; a businessman who
had more money than he needed, and steal the diamonds in his
safe. He was a white man, sure there was plenty more where
that came from.
Mlondi and his skills came in handy, it was his job to enter the
study and get the diamonds while the guys kept Mr. Ward
busy. Once Mlondi had the diamonds, his fingers became
stickier than they were when he entered the study. He kept the
diamonds for himself, the police were already tipped by him
and were on their way.
He was planning to escape and leave his partners to take the
blame.
Ntaba, having eyes and ears everywhere, saw it coming. From
the time they arrived at the Ward residence, he had his eyes
on Mlondi. When he saw him pocketing the diamonds, he
knew what he had heard from one of his police rats was true.
Ntaba easily overpowered Mlondi, knocked him out and
locked him in the safe.
Plans can be changed and that’s exactly what Ntaba did, he
turned the tables around.

“We have to keep an eye on him, anything can happen at this

point.” Ntaba tells his friends.
“Have you told Alfred? Do you think he knows that his boy is

69
out?” Muphumuzi.
“I haven’t spoken to him, they are brothers. He could be
protecting him, I swear if anything happens to Khethiwe, I
will kill him.” Ntaba.
It is so easy for him to talk about killing people.
“Nothing will happen to your wife, we’re here. We’ll keep a
lookout, I’ll ask around at the taxi rank, he must be up to
something. And you know jail birds, they don’t know how to
keep their mouths shut.” Muphumuzi says.

…><…

She’s in bed when he walks into the bedroom, her eyes are
shut, but he can tell that she isn’t sleeping.
He sits on the edge of the bed and stares at her, it feels surreal
that she’s here.
It’s shocking that she agreed to share a bed with him, every
night when she turns and her body accidentally touches his,
he’d gasp a little and fight the urge to make love to her.
“KaMadonsela.” He shakes her a little.
“I brought your favourite.”
He’s holding a packet of Toppers biscuits as a truce treaty.
Khethiwe does not move an inch.
“I know you are not sleeping.” He runs a finger down her arm
and gets nothing.
Perhaps a kiss would shake her a bit and that’s what Ntaba
does.
“Talk to me, Peaches.” The whisper is sent into her ear,
followed by a series of kisses down to her neck. It tickles and
has Kethiwe jolting up.
70
“What do you want?” Her fierceness makes him smile.
“Here.” Ntaba hands her the biscuits, it’s crazy because he’s
never seen her eat those.
“I don’t eat diabetes.” She spits, folding her arms on her chest.
“But it’s your favourite,” he can’t be serious.
Khethiwe faces him, and sits Indian Style.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Thethelela’s mother?”
A frown, “What?”
“I didn’t know she randomly visits with the baby,” she says.
Ntaba scratches his beard, the last thing he wants is to fight
with her at this hour.
“Yeah, I gave her permission. I didn’t see anything wrong
because she’s Zamo’s grandmother.”
“Is the baby the reason you moved here?” Only his brothers
know this, for Khethiwe to randomly figure it out proves that
she knows him well.
“Her grandmother had changed her mind about me raising
Zamo, she moved to Durban and blocked my number. I
looked for them high and low and when I found them, Thonga
convinced me to move here so I can be close to Zamo.”
She rolls her eyes at his answer, he knows she is not about to
accept his baby soon.
“You really love her don’t you?” Khethiwe asks.
It kind of sounds like a test, he furrows his brows. He has a
question but keeps it to himself.
“I’m learning to and I’m learning to be a better person.” He
says and slowly drops his hand on her lap.
“She said you killed Thethelela?” Khethiwe.
Ntaba heaves a sigh, dammit. He never wanted Khethiwe to
know about this, there is no escaping the question.
It’s either he tells her the truth or ignores her.
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“I was angry,” his tone is dismissive.
He drops the biscuits on the bedside table and stands.
“Where are you going?”
“Shower,” he says without turning to look at her.
“She hates you, you know that right?” Khethiwe shouts
behind him, he stops and turns to face her.
“I know.”
She’s confused for a while, “Then why give her permission to
enter your house? I don’t understand. What if she kills you in
your sleep?”
“You should know by now that nobody can touch me,
Khethi.”
Khethiwe snorts, that’s just a lame answer. She gets off bed to
join him, as she looks up at him, Ntaba cradles her face with
the palm of his hand.
“She’s harmless, don’t worry about me,” he tells her.
“Okay, seeing you don’t have a problem with her suddenly
showing up here, I thought you should know that I do. I’m
back now and I can’t have a woman randomly entering my
house.”
Ah! There it is, this is his Peaches talking.
“It’s your house,” he’s grinning like a child.
“Do whatever you want, I won’t question you. I have one
request though.”
Khethiwe shrugs.
“Try and get to know Zamo, she’s a sweet baby.”
He’s pushing it, Khethiwe’s mood has changed. She turns
away from him and goes back to bed.

72
 Khethiwe

Waking up wrapped in his arms feels good, he’s an arse yes,

but he’s my arse. I’m experimenting, doing that good morning
kiss thing white people do when they wake up.
His eyes are closed, so it makes it easy for me to take
advantage of him. My lips touch his again, he smiles.
“KaMandonsela?” He’s awake.
He puts a hand on the small of my back and pulls me closer to
him, too flush together that I feel the heat of his body.
I was so sure he was asleep, then again you never know with
him.
“Morning.” I don’t know if it’s a good one yet, anything is
possible at this point especially considering that his daughter
is around.
“How did you sleep?” He asks.
“Like a baby.” Truly an honest answer. “How about you? You
look tired.”
Did he get any sleep at all?
“That’s because I just woke up and what a good morning you
just gave me, KaMadonsela.” He says, pressing a lingering
kiss on my forehead.
“Don’t get used to it, and don’t read too much into it. I was
merely waking you up.” What did I just say?
73
He grumbles, nuzzling his face on my neck. I’m addicted to
his scent, how the hell was I able to live without it?
“You feel so good in my arms, KaMadonsela. It’s like you
never left.” The words are whispered in my ear, I hate how
my body always sells me short.
His chuckle tickles my ear, “I love how you tremble in my
arms.”
I’m close to rolling my eyes, the bastard just got his ego
boosted for the day.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
He nods, looking at my lips with a smirk across his face.
Why are you looking at me like that, Ngwane?”
“Because I’m hungry.”
“If you let me go, maybe I will make breakfast.” I tell him,
trying to free myself from his arms. He’s not letting go.
“But, I don’t want to let go. I’m hungry.”
Haibo! This man.
“Ntabezikude Khanyile, you do know that we are separated,
you cannot have me as you please.”
It seems I’m talking to the wall because he captures my
bottom lip with his teeth before attacking me with a kiss.
Is this harassment? I think it’s harassment.
“I’m not the easy type,” I tell him.
His face transitions from lust to offense in the blink of an eye.
“And I am?” –him.
Exactly, when did this become about him? He knows what I
mean, but he will make me spell it out.
“You messed up Ntaba, you ruined me when I trusted you the
most. We’ve been apart for a year, you have to pay a fine
before I can come back to you.”
This is not me talking, my aunt has found a way into my
74
mouth. She did make sense, but I was led by my heart back to
this man.
Our faces are so close that our lips are two seconds from
touching, I don’t foresee a kiss, not with the tension we just
built up.
I move and he lets me go, it angers me that he doesn’t fight
for me to be in his arms like he was a minute ago.
Maybe I’m crazy, maybe I have mixed emotions, maybe I’m a
woman and I have no clue what the fuck I want.
“I want my wife back home with me, I want you home
KaMadonsela.”
The sincerity in his voice is heard and appreciated, but he
needs to work. Actions will always speak louder than words.
“Then do the right thing, bring me back home Ngwane.” I’m
done talking about this today, I don’t want to fight with him.
The cock of the brow, so much is said in that. Sometimes it
frustrates me because I can’t read him, this man frowns for a
living.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
My feet never lead me to wrong places, and right now, my
body needs water.
“To take a shower, my body feels sticky.”
He chuckles, “That’s because you were sweating the whole
night.”
“Yes because you were caging me the whole night.” This clap
back should put him in his place.
He jumps off the bed and with one step he has me in his arms,
his forehead pressed against mine. I lose a few breaths due to
the sudden ambush, don’t ask why my arms are around his
waist.
“Are you complaining young lady?” His voice is a whiff, his
75
eyes are scanning my face.
“No sir, I love being caged by you Mr. Khanyile.”
“You do?”
The smirk! Lord have mercy.
His lips never seem to tire from mingling with mine, he’s
kissing me and not minding the morning breath.
“Ignore it.”
He’s talking about my phone, someone is calling me.
Ntaba is all over me with kisses and bites, caresses and
whispers.
“You’re so warm, KaMadonsela.” He mumbles against my
lips, his hands grip my ass.
I flinch when he gropes the flesh with his hands. My breathing
is going south and fast, a moan that says I’m enjoying him
leaves my parted lips.
I don’t want to do this, I want to but I can’t. I push him back,
and remove his hands from me.
There’s suddenly a frown on his chiselled face.
“What’s wrong?” He wipes the wetness of our kiss from his
mouth with his left thumb.
“Your daughter is in the other room.” I remind him.
He exhales loudly, and disappears into the bathroom without
another word uttered.
This gives me a chance to check my phone.
Bahle is such an idiot, I don’t get why he would call me so
early in the morning. What if Ntaba had seen his call?
Who am I kidding? I’m the idiot, befriending a guy my
husband despises.
See my life!
I delete the call from the call logs. God knows why I’m

76
entertaining him. Yeah, sometimes he says dumb things and
ruins my mood, but he’s also a fun person to be around.
I actually enjoy his company, I think mostly it’s because we
always take a trip down memory lane. Ntaba would kill me,
burn me and use my ashes as seasoning if he were to hear me
say this.
Bahle is harmless, he’s changed. I’ve seen it in the past year,
and the husband has nothing to worry about, he’s more like a
brother. He knows his boundaries and that the only man in my
life is Ntaba.
I don’t know why today he decided to call me, I have warned
him about this. I hate phone calls, I can’t stress this enough.
The only calls I can endure are Ntaba’s.
I hear the shower, great, now I can text Bahle’s black ass and
tell him shit.

*What the hell Bahle? I told you never to call me.*

*You’re ignoring my messages, Khethiwe.*
*I have a life, in case you forgot.* -me.
Lord he’s typing.
*Have coffee with me, 3pm. Our usual spot.*
This is where the problem starts, coffee meetups or dates. I
will have to think about it, my schedule is a bit tight today.
Funokuhle and his husband are jetting off to their honeymoon
tonight, I want to see him before he leaves.
I strip naked, and tiptoe to the bathroom. Ntaba is in the
shower, back against the wall and his head tilted back. He is
deep into thought, I hope it has nothing to do with me giving
him a run around.
77
He is not aware of my presence, it grants me an opportunity to
stare and admire his body. God must have a proud look on his
face when he looks at this man.
My eyes have chosen to rest between his legs, the rod that
used to pleasure me with no faults or errors. I miss it, I miss
him inside me.
“Like what you see?” His voice snaps me back up, he’s
assessing the expression on my face and catches the shyness I
have fallen into.
“You are so full of yourself, Ngwane.” I sigh and jump into
the shower.
“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an
insult.” –him.
He doesn’t waste time, his hands are all over me, hungry and
unsatisfied.
“Your skin is so soft, I love it.” He tells me, speckling kisses
from my ear down to my neck.
I throw my head back, softly moaning as his hands sensually
run up and down my body.
“I think you should reduce the water temperature, it’s getting
hot in here.”
Plus it’s getting impossible for me to breathe.
The next thing I get from him is a chuckle before he pins me
on the wall, lifts me up and slams inside me without warning.
A miniature scream leaves me, my nails dig into his biceps as
I burry my face on his neck and lock my legs around his hips.
I don’t know how my body is trembling, I’m struggling to put
it back to order.
“Ntaba,” I’m sobbing.
Did it ever feel this good?
“Shhh, phephisa KaMadonsela.” His breathing is erratic and
78
seductive against my ear.
“Ngiyakthanda mkami, uthandwa yimi KaMadonsela.”
He knows what to say and when. His thrusts are suffocating
me, he is like a hungry beast.
“Ntaba, you’re in too deep.” My voice is a strangled sound.
He stops, I don’t want him to stop.
“Nxese Khethi, are you okay?” He’s looking at me with worry
painted eyes.
“I don’t want you to stop, please.” I press a kiss on his lips.
“Just be gentle, I haven’t had sex in a year. I’m a virgin you
know.”
He’s laughing at me, “my little virgin.”
He says this thrusting into me, it’s slow and gentle and Lord,
I’m getting emotional.
His breath is warm on my neck, his breathing is loud in my
ear. I love how feels inside me, how he’s slowly thrusting as if
he wants to relish this moment.
“You feel so good Peaches, I missed being inside you.” The
groan comes from his throat, he’s taking his thrusts to another
level.
“I’m gonna cum, Ntaba.”
He grinds his hips, pushing us both to the edge. I can tell he’s
close with how loud he’s breathing, he’s fighting to hold back
his release.
“Take it Peaches, it’s yours.”
At his request, I explode in a thousand tingles that have me
curling my toes and breathing his name.
Ntaba takes a wild pace, digging deeper and harder inside me.
This is about him reaching his high, but I feel another orgasm
coming.
I don’t know if I’m still alive, I must be because I feel him
79
thick and throbbing between my walls.
He covers my mouth to stop me from screaming, just in time
for another volcanic orgasm. He isn’t far behind, his hands are
tight on my hips as he explodes without pulling out.
“Oh fuck!” He’s hissing and groaning. “I love you Peaches,
you’ll always be mine.”
I have never belonged to anyone but him, I don’t want to
belong to anyone but him.
Yeah, that issue about starving him. What does it even mean?
Must be Chinese.

80
 Chapter 8
***
Banami

“Smurfette, dad is on his way over there.” Ndleleni’s habit is

calling her when he’s at work. She stopped complaining about
him calling when he’s supposed to be working.
Today should be excused, since it’s a Sunday.
“Dad?”
He better not be talking about Vumile. What will they talk
about?
“Yes father in-law.” He says.
She breathes a sigh of relief, he’s forward. Dad, really?
“Why is he coming? Is something wrong?” She asks.
Her father doesn’t do random visits, plus he is not fond of
Ndleleni.
“No, I told him you miss him, so he’s on his way.”
It really wasn’t necessary for him to do this.
Banami fights back a sigh, not that she hates her father. She is
just not ready to explain for the umpteenth time why she is
living with a man who has not married her.

81
“I don’t know if I should thank you for that.” She’s being
sarcastic.
“I don’t want you to be alone in that big house.” Ndleleni.
Yeah! The big house in La Lucia, she eventually accepted it.
Drama!
Friends and family have been kind and supportive, it hasn’t
been easy after the miscarriage but they are pushing.
“I’m fine Ndleleni and you do know that dad wants me back
home right? So don’t be surprised to find me gone when you
get home, he can be very convincing, and I can’t say no to
him.” She warns, supressing a laugh.
“Hey don’t joke like that, I go where you go. I guess I’ll just
have to move in with him as well.” Ndleleni.
“My dad is very strict, I’m surprised he let me move out.” She
says.
“Dad and I are friends now, he understands me.” Ndleleni
returns.
That’s not really convincing, and Banami finds a joke in his
declaration.
“Let him hear you call him dad without his approval, you’ll
see a side of him you’ve never seen.” She’s not trying to scare
him, but there is some truth in her warning.
“Ouch, your words though. Whose side are you on anyway?”
She laughs at the tone of his voice.
“Can’t wait to marry you, then we’ll see what Mfanafuthi says
then. He won’t tell me nothing.” He teases, Banami finds his
joke and cracks into laughter.
“Sometimes I wonder why I fell in love with you, Mr.
Khanyile.”
“Is that regret I hear.” -Him.
“How can I regret the best thing that has ever happened to
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me?”
He is responsible for her world turning upside down.
“Take care of yourself Smurfette, but mostly Mfanafuthi, he’s
my future father in-law.”
A gasp escapes her parted lips. What the hell did he just say?
“You have to do away with calling my father Mfanafuthi, you
might slip up one day and call him by his name in his
presence. I would hate to see my baby being beaten up.”
“Would he really do that?” Fear is evident in the tone of his
voice.
“Anything is possible with that man?” She says.
Banami loves it when this man is afraid of her father.
“I know you won’t let him touch me,” or so he thinks.
“When it comes to dad, I don’t interfere. Besides, you’re a
man, you can fight your own battles.”
“Says the woman who freaks out when she spots a tiny bruise
on me,” amusement is found in his voice.
“Listen, I have to go, I have a meeting to get to. I love you.”
He cuts the call before she could return his words.
The house gets lonely without him, if this is what being a
house wife feels like, then she doesn’t want it.
There is really nothing to tidy up in the house.
Banami does some touch ups here and there, makes lunch, not
that Mfanafuthi would actually sit and eat in his potential, son
in-law’s house. Even more so that he is against Banami
moving in with the man she’s not married to.
“Hi dad.” That look he’s giving her— she doesn’t understand
it. “Come in.”
His stride is slow and his eyes are inspecting the house, on his
old wrinkled face is a scowl.

83
“You may sit,” Banami says, pointing to the couch next to
him. He looks at it and his frown deepens.
“I don’t want to make it dirty,” he says.
There’s an urge to roll her eyes, she almost forgot how
paranoid he can be.
“Don’t be silly dad, sit.”
And that he does shaking his head.
“So this is the house?” Mfanafuthi asks, his eyes running all
over the room right to the ceiling.
A wide, childlike smile appears on Banami’s face.
“Yes, do you like it?”
She hopes he’d say yes and that he won’t ask about the job in
Germany. It is a thing of the past.
“It’s okay,” the old man replies with a shrug.
He gives her that look again, she is starting to wonder if she
did something wrong.
“Won’t you at least change?” Finally, he says what’s on his
mind.
Oh shit, she didn’t realize she’s still wearing Ndleleni’s shirt,
it’s a good thing it covers her thighs.
“I had a busy morning and I still had to shower.”
Mortification has long washed over her, explaining only puts
her mind at ease.
“Is he making you work like a slave?” Her father’s tone is a
bit offensive, Banami sighs and shakes her head.
“Dad, of course not. When I’m not at work, I get so bored so I
keep myself busy with whatever I can find.”
“You know you still have a home with me, right?”
How can she forget when he reminds her at every chance he
gets?
“Yes daddy, I’ll never forget that. I’ll get you something to
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drink then I will take a shower, I won’t be long.”
She leaves him perched up at the corner of the couch with his
hands across his chest, it hurts to see that he hasn’t made
himself comfortable.

…><…

When Banami comes back wearing decent clothes, she finds

her father seated in the same position she left him. They didn’t
grow up privileged, in fact, she was the first one in her family
to graduate and make something of herself.
Cheese and Bacon was a luxury in their home, with her father
being a bus driver and her mother working as a cashier, soft
life was something they saw on television.
“I told you that I won’t take long.” She tells her father whose
response is a faint smile.
“Is that boy trying to get you pregnant again?” There’s an
unpleasant look on his face, Banami is confused.
“Dad?”
“That thing you were wearing…”
Oh wow, that is embarrassing.
There’s nothing wrong with giving your man a little
something-something before he goes to work, she initiated the
sex. Ndleleni just woke up lucky.
“No dad it’s not like that. He is… I just… can we not go
there?”
Would he ease up if she tells him she’s the one who broke his
virginity?
“If you say so,” that shrug though.
“When is the wedding?” Good! He’s changed the topic.
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There has been talks of a wedding, nothing solidified yet but
they are planning something in the near future.
“We haven’t decided.” She tells him as she makes herself
comfortable next to him.
“I still can’t believe you want to get married when your career
has just started.” He’s starting.
“I love him,” she says.
She doesn’t expect her father to understand, in his eyes she’s
his little girl.
“But why the rush? You have your whole lives ahead of you.”
“We’ve been through this dad.”
“I’m just saying, you’re young and have so much to do before
a man ties you down.”
Banami’s sigh is hefty, her father does not say much when
Ndleleni is around and she is sure he will never bring this up
in his presence.
“Ndleleni is a good man, he treats me very well. I love him,
please don’t ask me to leave him, I wouldn’t want to say no to
you.” She pleads, hoping the topic is done and dusted.
Mfanafuthi takes a moment of silence before he’s nodding.
What the hell?
Banami doesn’t know what this is about.
“I made lunch.” Banami tells him.
The mention of food should lighten up the atmosphere, he
shows no emotion but a nod. It takes very little time for her to
dish up for both of them, Mfanafuthi is called to the dining
room. He insists she says a prayer before they indulge.
During their conversation, she avoids any talks about Ndleleni
and the miscarriage. Things are going good between father
and daughter until Ndleleni’s name appears on the screen of

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her phone.
Their chat is brief, she has to go back to her father.
“I could swear that boy is obsessed with you.” Mfanafuthi has
observed and concluded.
“Why do you say that?” She asks not sure what he’s talking
about.
“He checks up on you a lot, your phone hasn’t stopped ringing
since I got here.” Yep, the old man is very observant.
Banami smiles, “If it were possible he would chain me to him,
it’s not obsession dad it’s love.” She utters, feeling defensive
over her man but also tosses in a joke hoping to ease the
tension.
“I never did that with your mom, that boy is weird.”
“People love differently and please daddy stop calling him
that boy, Ndleleni is your future son in-law.”
Ndleleni at least deserves some respect from her father.
No reply comes from Mfanafuthi.

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 Khethiwe

Giving my vagina away means I’m back to my wifely duties.

He’s in the bedroom, getting dressed. Lord knows where he’s
headed early this Sunday morning, he was on a phone call
when I left the room. My ears disappointed me, I caught
nothing.
I opt for a cheese omelette, sausages and bacon and his
favourite, Mageu. Ten minutes in and his footsteps call for my
attention, my heart does that little jump it always does when
he walks into a room.
He is intensely looking at me, it must be because I’m staring
myself. Black makes him look majestic, and so good I could
have him for breakfast. His scent fills my nostrils before he
reaches me, this man always smells so good.
“This is the second time you’re gawking at me and I have to
say Peaches, I am honoured.”
That’s the bastard in him talking, that’s why he’s exhibiting
that arrogant expression.
His arms are wide open, inviting me for an embrace.
I turn away with an eye roll.
“Did you roll your eyes at me?”
He asks and I turn to him with his plate of food and an

88
innocent beam on my face. It always works on my behalf.
“Why would I do that, Ngwane?”
He slumps down on the chair with his arms crossed like a
petulant child, making me want to slap him for being so
adorable until he’s regarding me with raised brows. I serve
him his breakfast.
“Ngiyabonga ntokazi.”
With this, he takes me back to my timid girl days when all I
could think about was him, I’d trip and fall whenever he was
in the room.
I settle down beside him and shoot him a curious stare, his
eyebrows crinkle inquisitively. He shrugs his shoulders,
feasting away on his breakfast.
“You worked up an appetite, you’re really enjoying that.”
I have a question for him and this is my starting point.
“You taste as good as this breakfast, Peaches. But I’d rather
have you instead.”
I think he’s trying to be funny but I blush instead. I want to
taste better than the breakfast, who doesn’t?
“I’m a snack now?”
I know, I don’t know how to flirt.
“You’re a full meal Peaches, with a mouth-watering
compensation.”
His response has me laughing, all this time he’s talking to me,
but his face is plastered on the food.
Savage!
“Where are they?”
He knows who I’m talking about, he lifts his gaze and for a
second I regret asking him.
I wait him out, and watch him picking up strewn pieces of
omelette and treating me like I’m not here.
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“Ntaba?”
“I heard you Khethiwe.”
The full name calling is never good, I hate it. To him, I’m
Peaches, KaMadonsela or Khethi.
I stare at him and think about the anger that has suddenly
engulfed him or whatever it is he is feeling right now.
“They left at crack of dawn, I didn’t want you to be
uncomfortable.”
No, now I feel like a witch.
Ntaba neglects his food, he lets out a heavy sigh.
“I’m not forcing her down your throat, she’s my daughter. I
can’t close the door to her face because my wife hated the
woman who brought her into this world.” He says.
Somehow, I feel like I have hurt him. It wasn’t my intention.
It’s never my intention, even when he goes all out to slice me
to pieces.
“I don’t hate the baby, I just need a little more time to accept
the truth.”
I don’t know how long it will take me, could be days, months
or years. A woman’s heart is soft, and forgives easily but
that’s not always the case.
“It’s been over a year, how much more time do you need?”
He’s downing his drink like it’s a glass of water.
“I want us to raise her together, Khethi. I can’t do this by
myself, Zamo needs a mother and I need you to be her
mother.”
Yeyi! He’s asking for too much, where will I start?
Letting out an exasperated sigh, I jump off the chair and head
to the sink. I don’t have to give him an answer now and if he
knows me like I hope he does, he will not push.
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask, not wanting to talk about
90
Zamo anymore.
“Work.”
“Will you go to work dressed like that?”
Yeah, I sound petty for someone who doesn’t want to be told
what to do. But who goes to work wearing track pants? I need
to remind him that he is not a taxi driver.
“Dressed like a whore?”
It’s too late, I spewed. My big mouth has no filter sometimes.
I cover my mouth and tightly clench my eyes.
Only to open them a second later due to his all so familiar
blaring laughter. Head tilted back, hand on his stomach and
mouth wide open. I know I did not make a joke.
“A whore? What does that even mean Peaches?”
He won’t stop laughing.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re always wearing track pants
and hoodies… It’s fuckboy couture.”
Again the rowdy laugh that he almost chokes on his food.
He’s howling.
Irked, I huff and cross my arms.
“Peaches, I knew you were funny but today you are killing
me.”
I’m confused, there’s really nothing to laugh about.
“Whatever Ntaba.”
I don’t want to look at him anymore, so I turn away.
I hear him clearing his throat before feeling his strong hand on
my right shoulder. I shrug it off, but he keeps the grip on, I
don’t want him touching me. I’m upset with him.
“Ngiyaxolisa KaMadonsela.”
I’ll be smiling like an idiot in a second because well,
sometimes I’m a witless school girl.
Witchcraft!
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“I will change and dress like a good boy.” He says.
He thinks he’s funny.
“No… d… don’t.”
I stammer like a halfwit.
“Okay mom, if you say so. I’m getting late. I should go before
you kill me with laughter.”
He takes a deep sigh and plants a kiss on my cheek, as he
starts to take off, I grab his arm.
“You are not fully dressed, Ngwane.”
I rush to the bedroom, leaving him laughing like a fool.
I won’t lie, I love the sound of his laughter but I feel stupid
because he’s laughing at the things that spewed out of my
mouth.
In a rush, I grab one of his jackets and come back to find him
opening another box of mageu. My heart skips a beat as my
eyes embrace his presence and suddenly I feel shy when his
eyes meet mine.
He’s supressing a laugh, Lord, I will never hear the end of
this.
“Don’t start, Ntaba.”
I warn him while helping him wear the jacket.
Ntaba is gazing down at me, his arms encircle around my
waist, pulling me close to him. I’m hypnotised by his manly
scent.
Nerves kick in and I find myself shying away from his gaze,
he holds my chin, brings my face up to meet the look of love
in his eyes. After all this time, I’m just as nervous, the sight of
him gets me excited and fills my skin with goose bumps.
“Are you really here?”
He mutters, my heart gets too excited again.
I fail to understand his question.
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“I love you.” He says.
My lips are captured by his before I could gather the courage
to return the words. My heart is bopping in my chest that I
feel it in my throat, making it hard for me to utter a word.
His tongue fills my mouth and that’s more than enough to
send electric shocks throughout my body, I pull back.
I have to restrain myself lest he leaves me feeling horny and
unsatisfied.
“Remind me again why you are working on a Sunday.” I say,
creating a safe distance between us.
Ntaba grabs my hand, pulling me back to him and envelops
me in his arms.
This is how Eve was tempted by the devil.
“It’s just a brief meeting Peaches, I’ll be done in an hour then
you can have me all to yourself, or you can come with me.”
Just go!
“Home alone it is.” I protest and get a laugh from him.
“Call me if anything happens and I will be here in a flash.” He
says.
“Yes detective.”
The house goes dead quiet the moment he walks out.
This is what happiness feels like, I can’t believe that this is
my life and how fortunate I am to have someone who loves
me beyond anything.

…><…

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I can’t believe I’m about to do this, his persistence got to me
and I hate crowded places.
I spot him at Mug and Bean sitting at the table situated at the
corner, he waves when our eyes meet.
Till this day, I’m flabbergasted by how much weight he’s lost.
“Hi.”
I stagger back before his arms could reach me, he catches my
arm probably thinking I’ll fall.
“I’m fine.”
I yank my hand away, I’m sure he doesn’t miss the annoyance
in my voice.
“Relax, I don’t bite.” He says.
Ntaba does!
He knows I don’t like him touching me. For a guy, Bahle is
too clingy. Sometimes I think it’s an excuse for him to touch
me.
Time seems to fly, the conversation is floating and before I
know it, two hours have gone by.
“I have to go home now,” I tell him after seeing multiple
missed calls from Ntaba. How did I not hear the phone ring?
“What’s wrong? You look worried?”
I don’t have time to explain anything, the man I’m married to
can be a psycho sometimes. He probably knows where I am.
We have left the eatery and heading to the parking lot, Bahle
is bombarding me with questions I’m not going to justify with
answers.
I feel bad for not seeing Ntaba’s calls, marriage is about two
people, you tell your significant other when you have plans.
How I forgot to inform Ntaba is beyond me.
“Khethiwe stop!”

94
That’s Bahle, grabbing my hand to stop me from walking.
He must see the panic in my eyes because he pulls me into his
arms, who said I needed a hug?
“What are you doing?”
I push him off, this man is trying to get me killed. Does he
know what Ntaba is capable of?
“I’m comforting my friend, you’re trembling Khethiwe. Does
that fool hit you?” How dare he?
“Ntaba would never lay a hand on me and don’t call him that,
you know I hate it when you call him names.”
Bahle finds humour in my retort.
“Are we talking about the same man who slaughtered
innocent women and children?” He asks.
I hate that my husband has this hanging over his head, people
will never forget what he did.
“He doesn’t deserve you, Khethiwe, you know that? And you
shouldn’t be afraid of him.”
He’s starting to annoy me and nippily getting on my nerves.
“I am not afraid of him.” There is anger in my words.
I’d defend Ntaba with everything I am. Heck I’d defend him
from himself.
“Then why do you freak out when we’re together and you’re
always looking over your shoulder.”
Because we’re not supposed to be together in the first place.
His peanut sized brain wouldn’t get it even if I painted it for
him.
“You’re exaggerating, Bahle.”
“I know you Khethiwe, this is not you. You’re a strong
woman, you shouldn’t be afraid of him, the police are also
there to protect you.”
Police?
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Protect me from what?
I can’t believe my ears.
“Protect me from what? Are you trying to ruin my marriage?”
“I’m only protecting a friend, that man is not good for you, he
thinks he owns you.” Gosh he’s still talking.
Bahle is contentious, that’s one of the things I hate about him.
“You’re getting on my nerves Bahle, I want you to stop.”
What the hell does he know about Ntaba?
“That man doesn’t deserve you, you deserve better.” He grips
my hand, it irks me to the core. His eyes widen when I claim
my hand back.
“Voetsek Bahle, don’t piss me off. Who the hell do you think
you are and where do you get off telling me how to live my
life? My husband is off limits, shut up if you don’t want to say
goodbye to this friendship.” I’m yelling and bringing us
unnecessary attention.
“But I’m serious, you know I can take care of you.” The
reason he’s insisting is because he thinks I’m a fool.
My eyes narrow, depicting my anger and annoyance towards
him. The fool is not deterred.
“I don’t need you to take care of me, I’m a married woman
and no one will ever love me like that man does.” My voice
won’t go down, not by a long shot, not until he hears what I
have to say.
He raises his hands, I guess in surrender or whatever is going
on in his mind. I’m thinking I’ve won but the idiot is touching
my hand again.
“Don’t touch me,” I complain, feeling anger brew inside me.
Bahle must think I’m easy.
I’m such an idiot to have agreed to this meetup, with this
muddled brain of mine, I wouldn’t be surprised if he kisses
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me and I let him.
“Don’t bother dropping me off, I’ll request an Uber.” I tell
him.
“Don’t be like that Khethiwe, I’m sorry okay.” He’s following
behind, pleading as if we’re a quarrelling couple. That’s how
it must look like to people.”
“I just want you to be happy, I’m the only man who can really
keep you happy, the only person actually. Even your parents
failed to do that, lean on me KaMadonsela.”
What the actual fuck?
He grabs my hand once more and pulls me back to where he’s
standing, I don’t mind slapping a man in public.
“Don’t ever call me that, ever. I swear if you carry on like this
then I’m done. I will not stand here and let you bad mouth my
family, especially Ntaba. You have no idea what that man has
done for me, you have no right to judge him like that.”
To say I’m livid would be an understatement.
Annoying selfish bastard!
I think I should end this so called friendship, his intensions are
becoming clear.
“I thought you changed, you said you changed.”
“I have changed Khethiwe, I’m not the…” His words trail off
when all of a sudden a G-Wagon hurtles towards us and
almost runs Bahle over.
I see Ntaba dash out of the car, angry as hell.
He’s glowering at us with a pucker between his eyebrows.

97
 Chapter 9
***
Khethiwe

“CAR NOW!!!
He booms, so much so that I flinch and release a muffled
scream.
“Ntaba…”
I want to explain but he turns to me striding, anger painted on
his face. I reel back.
The look on his face is that of ‘don’t fucking test me’ so I
dash to the car and pull down the window, so I could hear
what they are saying.
“What the hell is your problem?”
Wrong move Bahle, you don’t provoke a raging lion. He’s
attempting to jump on Ntaba, but I doubt he has the guts.
“Fuck off you piece of shit, stay the hell away from my wife
98
or I will kill you. Believe me, you don’t want me to make this
town very small for you.”
Oh my God, this is not the publicity Ntaba wants. People are
watching and taking pictures.
“I’m not afraid of you.” Bahle stutters.
His statement seems to drive Ntaba insane, he angrily moves
towards a petrified Bahle. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the
same look people get when Ntaba walks into the room.
In a flash, Ntaba grabs Bahle by his shirt. I think that’s
enough but he throws a punch across his face and because
Bahle is holding on to him for anchor, they both tumble to the
ground with a loud thud.
“Ntaba!!!!” I scream.
People have moved closer to take videos and pictures. My
head has become a whirlwind, I can’t make sense of what is
happening.
I scuttle out of the car to stop him, Bahle is beneath him,
taking blows from Ntaba. Every punch causes damage,
leaving him bleeding.
“Ntaba stop,” I grab his hand, but I’m pushed away.
Something has been unleashed, he’s going to kill him and go
back to prison. I can’t let that happen to my husband, he’s an
idiot who doesn’t think.
I summon my tears, and start wailing like a widow.
Tears are always a winner, he’s glaring at me, eyes burning
with fury. When he rises, he towers over me, intimidatingly.
My eyes are wide with panic, I gulp and step back.
Ntaba manoeuvres past me, he’s marching to the car. I don’t
know what to do, if he wants me to follow him.
“Khethiwe!” Ntaba barks.
I swivel on my heel and rush to join him in the car, these
99
people will have to help Bahle.
As he reverses the vehicle, he drives towards the wounded
Bahle who is still trying to pick himself up. Panic fills Bahle’s
eyes, he staggers until he falls on his face.
“Ntaba no!”
I send a warning scream, and that earns me a cold glare from
the man on the wheel. He clicks his tongue and drives off,
passing the speed limit. I have to buckle up, he’s going to get
us killed.
….><…

I have lost count of the number of times Ntaba has clicked his
tongue, he’s crazy really.
I won’t speak to him and I don’t care how much he scolds or
pleads with me, I will never speak to him again.
A piercing silence accompanies us till we get home, honestly,
I want to go to my aunt’s. I don’t want to be around him when
he’s like this.
He pulls up on the driveway and I storm out of the car. The
plan is to ignore him but knowing Ntaba, he won’t let me be
till he knows why I was with another man.
I’m barely in the living room when his footsteps resound
behind me.
“You’re holding hands with other men now Khethiwe?”
His voice reaches me as I throw myself on the couch, his
words force me back up.
“Haibo, Bahle is my friend. I don’t get why you have to be a
jealous freak, no sane person does what you did. Are you
crazy? What if you ran him over and killed him? What the
hell is wrong with you? Will you go around attacking

100
people?”
I don’t know if it’s the insult I threw at him, or the shouting
but either of them earn me a hot slap across my face. My body
tumbles to the couch, there’s a burning sensation on my
cheek.
Ntaba did not just hit me, no, not him. This man loves me too
much, he will never hurt me. I refuse to believe what I’m
bearing witness to.
Bewildered, I glare up at him, tears cascading down my face.
“You hit me, Ntabezikude?” I gasp.
I’m completely mystified by his sudden behaviour. He points
his forefinger my way, his face hard and eyes dark.
“Next time it will be more than that, I will not have you
embarrass me in front of people. Why do you have to be
stubborn Khethiwe? All I want from you is loyalty, honesty
and respect but you spit in my face. Uyeyisa KaMadonsela.”
No, this is not my Ntaba.
I’m ready to throw tantrums and demand my Ntaba back. I
will do that when I have calmed down, right now I am
seething with anger.
Tears streaking my face, I scurry to the bedroom. I want to get
as far away from him as possible. I shouldn’t have come back,
my aunt was right. I’m an idiot and this proves it.
Not in a million years did I think Ntaba would ever hurt me
the way he just did.
“Khethiwe, I’m not done talking to you.” He shouts behind
me.
I rush inside the bedroom and lock it, Bahle was right. I am
afraid of Ntaba, I didn’t realise until now.
I manage to pack a few clothes into a duffel bag, now how do
I get out of this room without bumping into him?
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“Khethiwe!”
He’s pounding on the door like a police man.
“Khethiwe open the door.”
I’m not going to do that, eventually he will tire and leave the
house to cool off or go fuck himself.
A minute has barely passed and the door is knocked down,
curse giants and whoever put this cheap door up. Afraid for
my life, I run to stand on the other side of the bed.
I’m failing to recognize the man that just kicked down his
bedroom door, he’s glaring. His face is laced with regret but
the anger stands under the spotlight.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
His eyes are on the bag.
“I am leaving Ntaba. It’s over, I’m done with you.” I shout
and that seems to fuel his anger.
The regret, the pain and the hurt that were reflecting on his
face fly out the window.
“Fuck! Khethiwe, stop with that shit.”
He grunts, charging at me. My eyes widen, I jump over the
bed to get to the other side. He stops and glares, I return the
glare.
“You are not fucking going anywhere.” He fires throwing my
bag across the room, it hits the wall and thunders on the
ground. The bastard is livid.
“Don’t use that language with me.”
I don’t know where I get the courage to back chat, especially
after that slap that showed me my father’s grave.
“Or what?”
Really Ntaba? A bully, of all things he can be.
“I have so much to say to you Ntabezikude, but because I
respect you as my husband, I will not utter a word. I’m getting
102
out of here and you will not stop me.”
I take my bag and head for the door, he grabs me before I can
take the third step and violently turns me to face him. He
leaves no space between us, his eyes are a black hole, sucking
dry every living thing in my soul.
Is this how abused women feel? Worthless!
“You’re hurting me, let go.” Respect aside, if he lays his
hands on me again, I will fight for myself.
Like a chameleon, Ntaba changes in a second. He enfolds his
arms around me, bringing me into a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry Peaches, I don’t know what got over me.” He says.
“Take me to my aunt please.” I’m not taking his half-baked
apology, not after what he did.
“I’m sorry KaMadonsela, please forgive me.”
He kisses the curve of my neck, with every bone in my body,
I’m trying not to cry. But the stupid tears desperately seek
attention and want to be heard by hook or crook. They flow
down my cheeks.
“Don’t go Khethi, I’m sorry. I will never hurt you again, I
promise. Nxese KaMadonsela, nxese.”
He’s trying to gaslight me, I’m not falling for it.
“And you expect me to believe that? You’re a volcano waiting
to erupt, I can’t live my life in fear.” I shout, pushing him off,
he’s a brick.
“Maybe I am,” he grips my hips and presses my body against
the wall.
“Maybe I’m a volcano or the devil himself, but you’re my
sanity Khethiwe. You keep me grounded, I’m only normal
when I’m with you.”
“That’s crazy, and stop touching me.” I shout and push him
again, he lets me by stepping back.
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“What was I expecting from a murderer? You fucking kill
people for a living, you’re sick.”
He looks at me like I have just ripped his heart out with my
bare hands, he’s not hurting enough. I want his heart to be set
on fire.
This is the guy who promised never to hurt me, yet my cheek
still bears witness of the broken promise. I want to believe
him, I do but everything is upside down now.
Ntaba breathes heavily, he drops his head which is something
he never does and falls on his knees.
“I’m sorry, you know I would never hurt you. I love you,
Khethiwe. Don’t leave me again, please.”
Bullshit!
“I want to be alone,” I say calmly.
It’s the only way I can get rid of him. He looks up at me, takes
his time to get up.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
Fuck him! Do I look okay?
I nod because what else can I do? My eyes are on him as he
walks out, when he closes the door, I let out a shaky breath.
My body is shuddering uncontrollably, I can’t stay here.

104
 Chapter 10
***
Banami

She gets home from her sister’s house to find Ndleleni’s car
parked outside the garage door, it has her frowning because
well… that man never comes home early.
It’s around 6pm, she rushed home to prepare supper. Her
father wanted her to drop him off at Makwande’s, when they
got there, they lost track of time.
Hopefully Ndleleni cooked or brought something.
There’s no aroma in the house, the atmosphere is bland. He
must be in the bedroom.
“What happened to you?” She asks when she finds him in his
sleep wear, a pair of long grey strip pants and a black round-
neck, t-shirt.
He looks up and shrugs, this is the person he is sometimes.
Less communication and more mood swings.

105
He’s lying on the bed with one knee up and the other leg
stretched out, his back resting on two big pillows and his
hands behind his head.
His sitting position is that of a troubled person. Instead of
making her way towards him, and greet him with a kiss,
Banami makes her way to the bathroom to freshen up.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says when she walks back into the
room.
“Ooh no, Ndleleni Khanyile’s been thinking, this can’t be
good.” She teases as she sits on the edge of the bed and starts
to remove her shoes.
Ndleleni glances at her, a blank stare.
“I want us to try for a baby again.” He raises the topic she has
been avoiding.
For a while, Banami thinks her ears are deceiving her and so
she pauses while still bent over. She swallows his words
before continuing with her task.
“Did you hear me?” He repeats when he gets no response.
It’s too soon, she had a miscarriage not so long ago. Recently,
they had a cleansing ceremony for their baby. How does
Ndleleni think this is okay?
Banami stands with her shoes in her hand, she tosses the pair
inside the closet and bangs the door shut.
Her anger gets Ndleleni moving, he sits up from the bed. His
feet hit the floor.
“Banami?”
“What are we going to have for supper? I don’t feel like
cooking, we can order something.” She’s not looking at him,
she’d tear up if she does.
Hating being ignored by her and unable to believe that she
just did that, Ndleleni leaves the bed.
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“Did you hear what I said Banami?” He snaps, taking a few
steps towards her.
There’s nothing he hates more than being ignored by the very
person he wants attention from.
Banami’s brows lift, “I heard you.”
Calmly, she replies, folding her arms across her chest.
“I know you heard me, so why are you ignoring me?”
“Because I don’t get where this is coming from, we just lost a
baby. I’m not ready Ndleleni.” Finally she says something in
regards to his question.”
She turns away from his piercing stare and keeps herself busy
by changing into comfortable clothes.
“What if I am?” Yeah he said it. “I’m ready to be a father and
I want us to try again.”
His words force her to turn and glare at him, the first thought
that comes to mind is that he’s selfish.
“No!” She sputters dismissively.
Ndleleni exhales, probably trying to gather his scattered
emotions.
“We’re in a relationship Banami, it’s not just about you but
me as well. You need to compromise.”
“I need to compromise? What about you? Did you stop to
think whether I have healed? Or who will carry this baby you
want? Who will go through morning sickness and sleepless
nights? Who will go through hormones and crazy cravings
and gain weight? Me, not you, so basically I will be the one
making a sacrifice here.”
The dire need to raise her voice is stronger than the reverence
she feels for him, maybe this way her views will be taken into
consideration.
Not caring about the pained look in his eyes, Banami marches
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to the other side of the bed. She’s thinking of turning in early
today, this man is getting under her skin.
“What you just said does not make sense.” His response to her
outbreak.
“So I’m not making sense now?” She snaps, looking for a
reason to be upset and avoid the baby topic.
Hopefully, Ndleleni would drop it because he hates seeing her
upset.
“I told you that I’m not ready to be a mother, it’s just as clear
as that. What’s the rush, anyway? We have all our lives to
bare children.” According to her, her words are quite wise.
A frown plasters on Ndleleni’s face, he’s been frowning a lot
lately and sometimes it gets on Banami’s nerves.
“Is it so wrong for me to want a child with you?” He asks,
sitting back down.
Throughout the course of the conversation, he’s the only one
who’s been able to maintain eye contact.
This is getting frustrating, she lets it show on her face, rolls
her eyes and lets her feet lead her toward the exit.
“Banami, I’m not done talking to you.” He raises his voice as
he strides toward her, the plan is to stop her from walking out.
“Banami!”
“Talk to yourself,” she sputters and jolts out of the bedroom.

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 Ntabezikude

He has to do something about that fool Bahle. He knows

Khethiwe’s stubbornness, he’s seen it and it irks him. She will
never stay away from him because he said so, especially now
that he has hit her.
The only solution he can think of is making him disappear, he
hasn’t forgotten the promise to never hurt her.
But he forgets everything when he sees other men eyeing his
wife and that piece of shit Bahlephambikwethu is in his space,
this man shoots and kills trespassers.
He’s aware of the texts between them, the phone calls and
coffee dates. She calls him brother but Bahle insists on
wanting more, it’s crazy how Khethiwe has changed him, the
old Ntaba would have killed him the day he found out there
was lobola paid from the Ndimandes.
The sun has set, it’s after 8 in the evening. He just got home
from a needed long drive, he was going to lose his mind had
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he stayed in the house. The house lights are off, strange
because Khethiwe does not like the dark.
His heart jerks at the thought of her leaving him again, there is
a tightening on his chest that shuts his airwaves and forces
him to breathe through the wound of his heart.
As he steps out of the car, he notices a car driving in. It’s a
frowning moment, he’s not expecting anyone and it’s too late
for visitors.
At close range, a police car comes to light and stops before
him.
“Ntabezikude Khanyile?” The driver asks, the moment he
steps out.
He’s confused, but immediately grasps what’s going on when
Bahlephambikwethu dashes out of the car as well.
His face bears marks of a harassed individual, the idiot ran to
the police.
“Bahlephambikwethu has laid charges of assault against
you…”
He knows what comes next, and like he’s predicted, he is
handcuffed and taken down to the police station.
With his connections he is able to call Mathonga and tell him
what happened.
“Don’t tell Khethi, I don’t want her to worry.” He tells him.
“I’m not going to keep things from her, if she asks I will have
to tell her.” Mathonga says.
Whose side is he on?
“You two are trying to fix things, lying to her will send you
ten steps back.” Mathonga says.
“I messed up again, she wants to leave me.” Ntaba doesn’t
beat around the bush, also, he expects Mathonga to know

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what the issue is.
“Where is she?” Mathonga asks.
Of course he’d know what’s going on, there are elders living
in him who show him people’s secrets.
“Home, I hope.” Ntaba.
Shame! A wounded animal, this one has become.
“Give her time to cool off, let her heal first. You need to atone
for your mistakes, try and do better for her.” Mathonga tells
him.
This is what he’s been trying to do all along, until today.
“What if she won’t forgive me? You should have seen her
Thonga lam, she has never spoken to me the way she did
today. Khethiwe will never forgive me.”
“Do you want me to speak to her?” Mathonga asks.
Nomkhubulwane lives in him, she can be very convincing,
one of her many talents.
“No, I’ll sort it out.” He thinks he will, he is Ntabezikude
Khanyile after all.
“Khethiwe loves you ndoda, even if it takes time for her to
come back, she will eventually come back.”
That’s the thing, he can’t wait another year.
“Yeah, I have to go.” Ntaba closes the call.
He needs to get out of here, how will he fight for his marriage
when he’s behind bars?

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 Chapter 11
***
Ndleleni

It’s insane that Banami doesn’t want to have a baby anytime

soon, he saw it coming though. The miscarriage broke her to
pieces, it’s not that he doesn’t acknowledge their loss. He just
needs a child with the woman he loves, is that too much to
ask?
It’s late at night, he’s in the kitchen with Vukuzakhe who
dropped by after work with papers for Ndleleni to sign.
“Is that all I have to sign?” A drained looking Ndleleni asks.
Zakhe should be answering the question but as an alternative,
his face crinkles in wonder.
“I wouldn’t be here if you had not left the office early,” Zakhe
gives him an enquiring look and Ndlelni returns it squarely.
“You wouldn’t be here if you had left for your honeymoon the
day of your wedding instead of putting work before your
husband.” Ndleleni.
Fair enough.
Zakhe laughs and shakes his head, “How are you?”
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“I’m fine.” He lies.
Zakhe takes back the enquiring look as he watches him pour
coffee in two black cups, they both settle on kitchen barstools.
“You’re forgetting I raised you, I know when something’s not
right.” Zakhe pushes.
Ndleleni has never confided in anyone before, he’s a very
secretive person. He takes a sip, then frowns at the bitter taste.
“What coffee brand is this?” A frown accompanies his
complaint, Zakhe is lost for a while.
He tastes his. “It’s fine. What’s wrong with you?”
Ndleleni tenses, before resting his elbow on the black
countertops and his chin on the palm of his hand.
“I think I’m ready to be a father, I know I’m ready.”
“That’s good news, shouldn’t you be happy?” An excited
Zakhe exclaims.
“Banami is not ready, she’s not over the miscarriage.” This is
also a first, Ndleleni has never spoken about his girlfriend to
his brothers.
“I understand her point, Bongiwe was never the same when
she miscarried. It’s a very sensitive issue, give her time.”
“I helped make the baby, I’m hurting too.” Ndleleni says.
Argh!
Zakhe sighs. It’s strange having this conversation with
Ndleleni, they hardly ever tackle such issues.
“What’s the plan then? You can’t force a pregnancy on her.”
“I don’t know what to do, she snaps every time I bring it up.
How do we fix this?” He’s extremely troubled.
“You need to sit down with her and come to a conclusion, if
you don’t sort this out now you will have problems along the
way.”
Ndleleni frowns, although Zakhe helped raise him, he’s never
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seen him as anything but a big brother who was wise beyond
his imagination.
Today he sees the father he’s always claimed to be.

…><…

He finds her in their bedroom, half naked. His heart stops and
he freezes at the door, admiring her. The first thought that
comes to mind is how beautiful she is, he wants to walk up to
her, pull her into his arms and make her his, but they are not
there yet.
“When did you get back?” He asks, tucking both his hands in
his pockets.
Banami had left the house in a fit of rage.
“It’s been a while.” She replies, without turning to look at
him. Her focus is on the pile of clothes on the bed, it’s no time
to be folding the laundry but an angry woman needs to keep
busy to avoid setting something on fire.
“Is your brother gone?” Banami.
Ndleleni hates it when she speaks to him without looking at
him, a frown forms on his hard features.
“You saw him?” The least she could’ve done was greet
Zakhe, no hug or affection was needed.
“Yes, I didn’t want to interrupt the deep conversation you
were having. I didn’t know you share our problems with your
brothers.”
Who else if not them?
“I needed someone to talk to.” He’s not going to cause
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confusion, frankly he has grown tired of her tantrums.
An offended Banami throws a look at him, “You can’t talk to
me?”
“You don’t want to talk to me, you yell and throw tantrums
every time I mention the word baby.” He’s moved closer, at
least at arm’s length.
“Because I’m not ready, but instead of understanding me, you
choose to go tell your brother our business. How do you think
that makes me feel?”
Banami throws her body on the bed, grabs her phone to give it
her full attention.
His sharp gaze is on her, how dare she ignore him again?
“It’s all about you, right?” There it is. “You compromise in a
relationship Banami.”
“Yeah, so you keep saying.” Her response.
Something on that phone seems more important than the
conversation they having, Ndleleni ogles at her, the phone,
then back at her.
He’s been calm all this while, and Banami has no idea when
he might break. He’s never quick to anger but acts when his
patience is tested.
“Banami!”
“What?” She’s engrossed on the phone.
“Look at me.” He says.
Ndleleni clenches his jaw, sometimes he forgets that she’s as
stubborn as he is.
He goes down on his knees, right in front of her and takes her
hands.
“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for.
“But I need you to understand why this is important for me.”
He tries to make his view but Banami’s eyes roll to the back
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of her head, she pulls her hands away and marches out of the
room leaving Ndleleni on his knees.
It’s the second time that she’s walking out on him, he can
only take so much.
Defeated, Ndleleni buries his face in his hands. How is he
going to reason with someone who doesn’t care to hear him
out?

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 Khethiwe

I’m at the police station first thing in the morning, after

Mathonga called and told me what happened to Ntaba, I knew
I had to see Bahle.
I don’t know how he was arrested while I was asleep in the
house, I should’ve heard something maybe, I would’ve
prevented them from taking him.
I didn’t have to work hard to convince Bahle to drop the
charges, he agreed with no hesitation.
I have been sitting on the wooden bench, impatiently waiting
for Ntaba. Bahle appears with a smile on his face, he stops in
front of me.
“It’s done, your husband is free.” He says.
I want to slap him for putting him behind bars in the first
place, I swear, sometimes I can’t understand him.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry for what he did.” I have to be
sorry, he was attacked and humiliated in public.
He shrugs, “Are you going to be okay?”
He asks as if he knows what I’m going through, perhaps I’m
so readable.
“As long as my husband is with me, I will be okay.” Who am
I kidding? I can’t even convince myself that I’m safe with

117
Ntaba.
Bahle is staring into my eyes, he has no right to be searching
my soul like that. I feel exposed, so I avert my gaze.
“I’ll be on my way, you know where to find me if you need
anything.” He says and leaves.
It feels like I’ve been waiting forever, will they ever release
him? I’m overthinking as usual, Bahle dropped the charges.
My hands start sweating at the thought of seeing Ntaba, my
heart is racing and my mind busier than ever.
Questions invade my mind.
How will I explain how I got him out? He will want to know,
and Ntaba can be very persistent. Like every man, he has an
ego. He’d hate having gotten help from Bahle.
“What are you doing here?” His voice.
I didn’t see him coming, I want to chide my heart for dancing
to the sound of his voice.
A few hours behind bars and he looks like his world has come
crumbling down.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
I shouldn’t be here, not after what he did to me.
He pulls me into an embrace, “Why did you come here? I
don’t want you to see me like this.”
“I was worried about you, I couldn’t let you spend another
minute in this place.” I tell him.
There is no smile on his face, he’s upset. I don’t know why.
“I would’ve taken care of it, KaMadonsela.”
There he goes sounding upset for no reason, he should be
thanking me instead.
“Are you going to reprimand me, or come home with me?” I
ask.
I have more important things to worry about, like our future.
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He takes my hand and we head to the car, he insists on driving
us home.
“I’ll get you a better car,” he randomly says.
Only now he thinks this car is not the one for me, I give up on
this man.
When I left him a year ago, I didn’t take the car with. It was a
wedding gift from him and taking it with me would’ve
reminded me of my failed marriage.
I haven’t been using it since I got back.
“I don’t need a new car, I’m fine.” I want to tell him the
reason, but it’d be better if we talk at home.
I feel his gaze on me, Ntaba can’t look at you and you don’t
feel it. Everything about him is heavy and intense. From his
gaze to his presence.
I’m tempted to return the stare, but he will see through me.
Nothing more is shared between us, the ride is as silent as a
grave.
For some reason, his silence worries me. There is something
on his mind and whatever it is, clearly is bothering him.
“Should I run you a bath?” I ask as soon as we get home.
I’m not comfortable with the look in his eyes.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” He folds his arms
and raises his eyebrows at me.
Dammit! Sometimes I wish he wasn’t so random and
mysterious, I dread such moments.
“Like what?”
I have quite a few things to tell him.
Ntaba grabs my wrist and I move away screaming, it has him
frowning. Then it happens, I see in his eyes that he’s
remembered that he hit me hours ago.

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A furrowed brow, before he cusses under his breath, he looks
regretful.
“Please sit with me for a while.” He says and makes his way
to the lounge.
I have never denied him anything, without sparing him a
glance, I drag myself to a couch. His gaze is burning me,
tempting me to look over at him.
He moves to sit on the armrest of the couch, right opposite me
and folds his arms across his chest.
“He dropped the charges, was it you who convinced him?”
I hate his random moments.
He rubs the bridge of his nose and continues, “He came to see
me before he left, such a boastful son of a bitch. He thinks
he’s important to you, and he’s convinced that I’m sharing my
wife with him.”
What in God’s name is wrong with Bahle?
I wanted to be the one to tell Ntaba what I did, I would have
explained it better, and undoubtedly made him understand,
convinced him rather that it was the right thing to do. I can’t
stand the thought of him behind bars.
“Why would you do that Khethiwe?” I hate it when he calls
me by my full name, it reminds me that we are in a bad space.
“You know I would do anything for you, Ntaba.”
“I don’t trust him, he will want something in return. One day,
he will want you to scratch his back. What you did was pure
stupidity Khethiwe.”
Argh! Why does he have to have many sides to him, ones I
never see coming?
“I had to do it Ntaba, or you would’ve spent time in jail,
royalty or not, the law does not take sides.”
This conversation will only breed more anger in him, who
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knows what he might do to me this time.
Nervous of what I’m about to do, I stare out the window. The
curtains in the living room are always open, there is not much
to see but the garden.
In the background, I hear him exhaling deeply. I turn to look
at him in time to see his reaction to my packed bags.
“What’s this?” He asks after a few seconds of silent staring.
“I’m done with this marriage, I’m leaving you.” This might
turn out badly.
How do I tell my husband that I don’t feel safe with him
anymore?
He frowns and again, scratches the bridge of his nose, “No
you’re not. You are not going anywhere.”
He’s glaring straight at me, I want to look away, but I need
this moment even if I have to fake confidence.
“You hit me, Ntaba, I’m done.”
“And I said I was sorry, I promise I will never stoop that low
again. I love you, KaMadonsela.” I hear his pained voice, it
has me feeling weak and wanting to forgive him.
An exhausted sigh leaves me, I shake my head and allow tears
to flow down my face.
“I’m sorry Peaches, I don’t know what got into me. Khethiwe
we can’t be apart again, I love you.”
How easy these words fall out of his mouth, gone are the days
when he couldn’t utter them.
He’s in front of me in a jiffy, my heart cracks when he goes
down on his knees. The touch of his hand makes me jumpy,
he sees the fear in my eyes and allows pain to seep through
his.
“I will never hurt you again, you’re my wife. I love you.”
It takes a moment to digest his words, what they mean. When
121
I do, I take a deep breath. I have to put myself first, I love him
but I need to love me first.
I stand, “We are done.”
He’s seems shocked when I take my suitcase and start
dragging it towards the door.
Ntaba grabs me and pulls me back, his eyes are wide with
fear.
“Stay away from me,” I yell, stepping away from him as if
he’s infected by a deadly disease. “I don’t trust you anymore,
you hurt me Ntaba. I trusted you with my life and you took
that away from me.”
He’s angry, but more than that, he’s hurting. I’ve never seen
this look before, red-rimmed eyes and a trembling bottom lip.
“I made a mistake of hitting you, I’ve served my penalty.”
He’s scrubbing his face as if a thousand ants are crawling on
it, when he looks back at me, the pain is gone. He’s blank, an
empty pit.
“What penalty?” I ask.
I can’t decipher the look in his eyes, this is the worst time for
him to be impassive.
“Living without you for a year, I don’t want to experience life
without you again. You left me once Khethiwe and that
shattered me, don’t do it again please.”
“What about what you did Ntaba? You hit me. I felt
humiliated and dirty, I have never felt unloved and worthless
in my entire life. Your love for me ceased to exist that
moment, you showed me how little you think of me. What if it
was me who slapped you? Would you forgive me so easily?”
I’m shouting and repeatedly slamming my fists on his chest.
Ntaba hugs my waist, usually I would wrap arms around his
broad shoulders but not today. The devil is out to play.
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“I’m sorry, hold me please.” His face is buried on my neck,
he’s clinging tightly to my body.
I can’t return it.
A long moment of silence stretches between us, I want him to
let me go.
He gives up when he sees I’m not acting in accordance with
his gestures, just as he lets go, I take my suitcase and walk out
on him.
I don’t know if I will ever come back.

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 Chapter 12
***
Ndleleni

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Vukuzakhe is becoming a

problem with his many questions.
Ndleleni came here to catch a breather, not for an
interrogation. His search for peace has been disrupted by
multiple calls from Banami, he spends more time away from
home, just to avoid their many fights.
“Ndoda answer your phone.” Zakhe taps his shoulder.
“So she can yell at me again? I’ll pass.” He locks the screen
and puts the phone back in his pocket.
He wants to be with Banami back home but at this moment,
he would rather be in his brother’s house lazing around in the
garden.
“Why would she yell?”
The answer has him clenching his jaw before it leaves his
mouth.

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“We haven’t been able to resolve anything since the baby
issue, if we’re not arguing, we’re avoiding each other. I didn’t
think relationships can be this taxing.”
“What did you think it was going to be? A bed of roses?”
Silence takes over, Ndleleni has allowed his brows to crinkle.
He feels intimidated by his brother, and the grave look he’s
giving him.
His gaze suddenly finds Funokuhle who is toddling to them
with glasses of liquor on a tray, then he turns back to the big
brother.
He has no answer for Zakhe, so he shrugs and looks over at
the boy arranging glasses on the garden table.
“When the honeymoon phase is over, real life begins. You
can’t avoid her forever, at some point, you’ll have to go home
and face reality. If you want your relationship to work, you
will have to face it like a man.” Zakhe says, as he pulls
Funokuhle to sit on his lap, the young man shuffles
uncomfortably.
His wide eyes turning to Ndleleni, this one is too stressed to
be bothered by this public display of affection.
“Thank you kid,” Zakhe mumbles against his husband’s ear
and circles his waist with his large arms. Funokuhle can only
shy away and fiddle with his fingers.
Ndleleni must go away now.
“I hear what you’re saying bhuti, but she won’t hear me out,
she refuses to listen to me. I tried talking to her but…”
“That is no excuse, go home and love your woman.”
And with that being said, Zakhe takes his husband by the hand
and leads him into the house.
Do they have to be so weird?

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A question comes to Ndleleni as he incredulously stares at the
couple, perhaps this is his cue to go home.

…><…

The lights are out when he gets home, he assumes Banami has
gone to bed, it is after all almost midnight. His brother had
advised that he heads home and make up with his significant
other, but Ndleleni did the opposite, he knew that they’ll fight
again and was in mood for that. Drinks at a local bar felt like a
better idea.
Quietly, he enters the house trying not to make any noise. He
toddles to the kitchen, grabs a jug of water and gulps it down
from the container.
His walk to the bedroom is slow, on his way he notices
something on the dining room table, and has to take a closer
look. The table is set for a romantic dinner, red roses, and
candles. Ndleleni turns the light on, thinking his eyes are
deceiving him.
Banami wanted to make peace, hence the trouble she went
through preparing this. He’s made things worse by ignoring
her calls and coming home late.
He takes his time walking up the stairs, thinking of ways to
explain to her his whereabouts and why he didn’t answer her
calls.
Relief washes over him when he finds the bedroom light off,
he wants to take a shower in hopes that it would ease the
tension he feels but that might wake her up instead.

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He strips naked, but leaves his trunks on, and just as he’s
about ready to climb into bed, he feels Banami move.
“Where have you been?” Her quiet voice meets him in the
dark.
Darn it, he thought she was sleeping.
“At my brother’s house.” His response, as he sits on the edge
of the bed, his back turned to her.
He flicks the side lamp on.
“And you found no reason to inform me that you’re leaving
and will be gone all day?” She sounds calm, it doesn’t mean
there is no storm brewing.
“I needed a break.” He articulates.
An apology would have sufficed.
“A break from me, Ndleleni?”
That came out wrong, he closes his eyes and breathes.
“I was tired of the fights and arguments.” He explains
politely, he has to be civil after that stupid thing he just said.
“You were tired of me and wanted to get away from me.”
Banami retorts, her voice forcing him to turn and look at her.
He’s in disbelief that she still wants to argue. For how long is
the fight supposed to last?
“You know sometimes I feel like this relationship is one
sided, you never take my feelings into consideration.” He
complains.
“You say things to me without thinking. Do I not deserve
respect as your partner, at least?”
Banami snorts, she has to kneel on the bed for this one.
“Are you kidding me, Ndleleni? You left me alone in this
house and went to spend time with your brother without
informing me. Where is my respect in that?” She’s too loud
and it’s late.
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Ndleleni groans, he’d rather not get into it. Choosing to ignore
her, he slides under the blankets.
“Why did you disappear all day? Do I annoy you that much?”
Banami continues, not caring that he is ignoring her.
“I’m tired, I want to sleep.” He turns to face the other way.
“Now you don’t want to talk to me?” Banami.
Ndleleni wants to respond but he knows if he dares to utter a
word, they’d end up arguing like they always do, saying
nothing is wise at this point.
Impatiently, Banami waits for his response, even a glimpse
from him would suffice. In that way, she wouldn’t feel
ignored—she wouldn’t feel as bad as she does now.
“Ndleleni?”
Silence!
Banami growls and jumps from the bed. In anger, she grabs
the blanket covering him and throws it on the floor. She’s
marching towards the door, anger in her steps.
“Where are you going?” He snaps, she stops and turns.
“No, don’t worry about me. You sleep, and like a good
fucking girlfriend, I’ll obey everything you say. You are the
man of the house after all.” Sarcasm knows her best.
“What is that supposed to mean, Banami?” He is taken by her
words and the tone she used.
Like he never said a word, Banami ignores him and carries on
to head for the door.
“I’m talking to you.” Ndleleni sputters.
If Banami knows that he hates it when she ignores him, then
why does she do it?
“Where are you going?” His rumble is deep and authoritative.
Just when she touches the door handle, Ndleleni tightly grabs

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her arm, and pulls her back. Her body collides on his, she’s
glaring up at him with shock.
Her eyes run to the direction of the bed where he was and
back to him, she can’t believe how fast he got from there to
her.
The anger on his face is very much evident, she’s seen this
look before but Ndleleni has never acted on it till now.
“Let me go, Ndleleni.”
He’s too strong for her, pulling away from his grip is
impossible.
“You’re hurting me, let go.”
The more she tries, the more he tightens the grip. Ndleleni is
blinded by anger that he can’t see the damage he’s causing.
“Look at me.” Look up is what the giant means.
Banami obeys, their eyes clash. Darkness resides in his eyes,
she also takes note of the ticking jaw.
“Ndleleni, what are you doing?” A deepening frown on her
face but it can’t measure up to his.
“What is your problem? I told you to stop, are you deaf?” –
him.
“You are not the boss of me,” she’s right.
“I’m your lover,” Ndleleni argues. “I’m tired of you stripping
me of my position in this house, you don’t listen to me when I
speak. What do you take me for, Banami?”
His voice demands her to obey, she stops fighting him, only
then does he let her go.
Tension has been called into the room, it’s thick and
unsettling. Banami is panting, her eyes still locked with his.
There’s no way she can look away even if she wanted to, not
when his eyes are demanding her attention.
Ndleleni steps back, sighs and folds his arms.
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“I’m sorry.” He tells her.
As if he’s permitting her, she leaves him standing and climbs
into bed. Ndleleni exhales, he’s trying hard to make their lives
better again. But Banami is making it difficult.

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 Chapter 13
***
Khethiwe

It’s been two months since I heard from Ntaba, it’s harder
being away from him than it was the first time.
His texts and calls lasted three days. The last text I got, he told
me that he was going to Johannesburg on business and that he
didn’t know when he’d be back.
Being without him is worse than death itself, the first few
days were terrible. I couldn’t stomach anything, everything I
ate came back up.
My aunt even went to the extent of speculating a pregnancy,
the thought of carrying his baby made my heart stop for a
second.
This is my second heart break and no one told me that I will
have sleepless nights, lose weight. Experience multiple
headaches, stomach cramps and my self-esteem would drop.
Moving on is the next step, I have no other choice.
Buhle pulled some strings for me and got me a job as a PA at
some law firm, it belongs to his cousin.
I have so much to say about cousin dearest.
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The pay is good though, I don’t want to depend on Ntaba. He
is my husband yes, and I love spending his money. However,
I am not trying to send the wrong message.
Bahle always wants to see more of me, he thinks my
separation has paved a way for him to slither his way in.
I’m not giving up on my marriage, not by a long shot. I
respect that Mageu-drinking fool of mine. What I want is for
him to change, be a better person and maybe; just maybe, I
will forgive him.

I assume that no one in the office recognizes me, although the

Khanyile wives are in the public eye. Some probably do but
have no guts to approach me and ask. It must be the
unapproachable expression I wear whenever I get to the
office.
“Khethiwe, there’s someone here to see you.” One of my
colleagues says, he’s always showing his teeth this one.
“Who is it?” I ask curiously.
He places his elbows on my desk and leans over to whisper
something to me.
“It’s that TikToker Funo, I didn’t know you rub shoulders
with influencers.”
“You don’t know me,” I challenge his stare, gesturing that he
moves back.
He laughs—out loud, it’s normal around here.
“Sorry, I’ll tell him to come in.” He says.
“Thank you…” I forgot his name.
“Dumi!” He reminds me, his head strangely bobbing and a
grin on his face.
I’m glad he’s walking away and… he suddenly stops, Lord

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have mercy.
“So, is he a woman or a man? It’s confusing for me because
he looks like a woman when he has those weaves on and…”
Him.
“It’s confusing because it’s none of your business, now
continue with your confusion and get out of my face.”
I’m not this person, this one just happened to ask me shit.
He’s gone before I go dragon on him.
Just as he disappears into one of the cubicles, Funokuhle
shows face, skinny body draped in a baggy mustard, panda
sweatshirt and track pants.
“Look at you.” I swear he is the most beautiful man I have
ever seen, long lashes, plump lips, thick brows. Till this day, I
struggle with weaves. Yet, Funo has found his way through
them so effortlessly. Needless to say, he looks amazing.
“Marriage looks good on you, you’re glowing.” I meet him
with a hug. “Who am I thanking? Zakhe or vitamin D.I.C.K?”
He traps himself in giggles, I love how he is still timid despite
being an influencer.
“Both,” laughs.
His smile tells me how happy he is.
“I’m so in love with him Khethi, he’s the best man I have ever
known.”
I believe him, Vukuzakhe is a dream. He looks rough around
the edges but that doesn’t take away the fact that he is a lover
and loves damn hard.
“We need to talk about this over coffee, I can spare a
moment.” He nods at my statement, a smile plastered on his
face.
The boss is in a conference meeting, I can sneak out for a few
minutes.
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We’re in the cafeteria, there’s not much to order here.
“What did you bring for me from Thailand?” I like things, and
receiving gifts from rich people.
“A weave,” he laughs.
“Boy please, you know I don’t wear those.” I reply and
receive another laugh from him.
“How have you been? I heard about the second separation.
When will you two stop tormenting each other?” Funo.
Of course he heard about it, the entire family knows.
“Ntaba hit me, Funo. I’m not that girl who stays at the first
sign of abuse.” Yes I love him but I am not stupid.
“I couldn’t believe it when Khushi told me, it’s no secret that
Ntaba can be loose but to actually hit you?” He takes my
hand.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that babe.” He says.
I have no answer for that, I’m still trying to process
everything that happened.
“I miss him though, even more now that I’m pregnant.”
Did I say that out loud?
Funokuhle’s eyes widen, before he’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh babe, congratulations.” He stands excitedly and puts his
arms around me.
“I don’t know if I should be happy or not, I haven’t heard
from him in two months. What if he’s moved on? What if he
is not ready for baby number two?”
He frowns before lifting his eyebrows, his mouth agape.
“Does the first baby count? He cheated.” Funo says.
I didn’t want to be remembered.
“I know babe and it’s so hard for me to accept his daughter,
everybody thought I was going to be welcoming. They knew
I’d die for Ntaba, but they forgot that I too am human. I hurt
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and sometimes forgiving is not easy, no matter how much you
love a person.”
I lift my glass of juice to quench a thirst, only to place it back
down because of the sudden loss of appetite.
“I hear you, and your actions are justified. You need to tell
him though, there has to be a solution, a compromise of some
sort. There are two souls who need both parents, it’s not just
about you and Ntaba now.”
Funo is giving me something to chew on, I need to swallow
my pride and talk to the husband.
“Try counselling, Banami can help. She’s good at it.” I
appreciate his suggestion but…
“If we do happen to see a shrink, I’d rather it be someone we
don’t know. I’d be more comfortable that way.”
Banami is family, telling her about my husband’s flaws would
be uncomfortable as fuck.
“Do whatever is comfortable for you, while you at it, try to
bond with baby Zamo. She’s a ray of sunshine, you will love
her if you give her time.” His eyes glow at the mention of her.
“I’m not making promises, but I will try.” I say.
Time is not on my side, the boss is probably done with his
meetings and looking for me.
Unfortunately, I have to bid Funokuhle goodbye and make
promises of visiting him. He wants me to bring Ntaba and
baby Zamo.

…><…

Back at my station, I’m told the boss has been looking for me.
He can be a pain in the arse.

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I also have a complaint about this girl who talks about me to
anyone who cares to listen. Apparently, she had applied for
the PA job and had high hopes that she’d get it since she’s
been with the firm for Five years. Unfortunately, connections
speak, I’m friends with the boss’ cousin.
A week ago, I mistakenly mentioned her to Bahle, only to
have the man who pays my salary reprimand the entire staff
the next morning. Something about bullying and that if he
hears or sees any form of bullying, he’d fire them with
immediate effect.
I appreciate what Bahle’s doing but there’s simply no need for
him to do all this for me.
The day goes by without the boss needing my assistant, these
are my lucky days.

…><…

I should hate this car, especially considering how people stop

and stare whenever I jump out of it. As to what was going
through Ntaba’s head, when he decided to buy me this old
junk, only God knows.
Fridays are my favourite day of the week, it’s a sunny day
today. My outfit is as light as the weather, I don’t want stress
today.
A text comes through my phone as I step out of the car, Mr.
Jordan wants me to cancel his morning meetings. He’ll be
coming in late, I can just do a happy dance right now.
Mr. Zweli Jordan is Bahle’s paternal cousin, I met him a few
days after I started working here. A tall, three-piece, suit-

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wearing, slow-talking, light skinned Xhosa man. Nicely built I
must say and a nice face.
I don’t want to say handsome because my eyes only see one
man and that is that fool I’m married to. I have to admit
though, Mr Jordan scares me a little, I guess it’s his
demeanour and the way he carries himself.
He has that ‘Fuck! I own the world’ attitude and walks like it
too, to say he intimidates the shit out of me would be an
understatement.
I was warned about him when I started working here.
I arrive to a loud and packed office, I think a fight is going on
until I see balloons and gift bags. We’re having a party?
What’s going on?” I ask Zithu, who is getting down to an
Amapiano song.
“It’s Mam’Susan’s farewell, she’s relocating to Joburg.” She
replies at the top of her voice.
How did I not know about Suzy’s departure? They never tell
me anything in this place. I spot her, munching on sandwiches
and coffee.
“Mam’Susan!” I attack her with a tight hug.
“My baby,” she says, a smile painting her wrinkled face.
Mam’Susan is one of the cleaning ladies and the eldest around
here, she’s a mother to every person in this place.
“I spoke to you yesterday, why didn’t you tell me that you’re
leaving?”
“I’m old Khethi, my mind forgets things sometimes.” She
says.
Lies I tell you.
I hold nothing against her though.
“I didn’t know about the farewell, I would’ve bought you

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something had I known.”
She starts to lick jam off her fingers, “I can give you my
Capitec banking details. I just downloaded the app, my
grandson showed me how to use it. Yhuu! Technology will
kill us, we belong in the stone ages Khethi.”
Okay! So I’m expected to give her money. Nice!
“What the hell is going on here?” Mr. Jordan’s voice booms
from the door.
Everyone goes silent, I see the fear they spoke of.
“What the hell is this? Mrs. Khanyile?”
He eh! Why is he looking at me? I didn’t know about this.
“Sir?” I stand, confusion coated on my face. It’s all fake.
“Is this what you people do when I’m not around?”
This man needs to chill and not shout at us like we’re kids.
“It’s Mam’Susan’s farewell sir, and work starts at 8am. We
still have ten minutes to go.” I tell him, brave as a
motherfucker.
His cold stare should have me shrinking, it’s actually not.
Hey, I’m married to the devil’s father.
“This is not a club but a respectable law firm, pack up this
nonsense and get the fuck back to work.” He snaps and
marches to his office.
“Someone didn’t get it all this morning,” that’s Dumisani.
His sally brings everyone into a puddle of giggles, we’re
afraid to laugh out loud in this place.
If that bastard Mr Jordan hears this, all hell will break loose.
Come to think of it, I have never seen that man smile.
“Sorry Mam’Susan.” Everyone starts to say.
She is not bothered at all, the food and gifts are enough for
her. She hands me a paper with her bank account details, I’m
not even moneyed right now.
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Work starts slow and quiet, most of my morning is spent on
Instagram looking at baby clothes, and everything I will need
when it arrives.
No one but Funo knows, not even my aunt. She’d be very
disappointed, I guess I’m lucky that she travelled to see her
twins and won’t be back in a month.
I haven’t thought of baby names, I’m not even showing yet.
Mr. Jordan has been cooked up in his office since he told us
shit, I know when not to go in there without being summoned.
“Will you stay cooked up behind that desk like your boss the
whole day?”
I lift my head to find Zithu, this girl is too chirpy for my
liking. Somehow she reminds me of Khushi, they would
surely get along or maybe their personalities would clash.
I mean opposites attract and they are far from being opposites.
Failing to understand her question, I raise my eyebrows, a
habit I learnt from Ntaba.
Lawd!!! I miss him.
“It’s lunch.” She emphasises by showing me a R100 note in
her hand.
I check the time and darn it, it’s a little after 1pm.
Mr Jordan is a slave driver, he’s probably planning a tight
schedule for me. He will give me the work in bulk.
I should use the time I have to eat or else.
“I lost track of time hey, there’s so much to do.” I’m lying,
I’ve been doing nothing but daydreaming.
“Yeah I know and if you don’t use this time wisely, you will
faint from hunger. I know how boss man can be.”
She giggles as she puts her elbows on my desk.
“Let’s go.” She says.

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Huh?
“Where?” I ask.
“Everyone is going to Steers, there’s a special today. It will be
fun.”
I’m not really into crowds, I have to pass on this one. I open
my mouth to speak, and she immediately sees through me.
“I won’t take no for an answer, this thing of isolating yourself
and being anti-social is not good for your health, you know?
You’re like those creeps on crime shows who are always by
themselves, only to find that they are psychos and are
planning on killing everyone in the office.”
I don’t know if I should be offended and why is she laughing?
It’s not funny, now I know what these people think of me.
“I didn’t know that’s the energy I display towards you.” I
sound offended.
“Relax,” she waves me off as if it’s nothing. “I’m kidding.”
Maybe I should go ahead and behead everyone.
“I prefer being by myself really, best way to avoid drama.” I
tell her.
These people didn’t even bother to tell me about the farewell,
now they want me to play happy family and go eat out.
Shame!
“Well, you can avoid drama tomorrow, today let’s go eat.”
I don’t know what the smile is for.
Eish, this girl…
“Okay, let me put everything away.” I’m getting my food and
coming back to my desk.
“Awesome.” She gleams which I find too much.
I grab my purse and just as we’re about to walk, Mr Jordan’s
door opens.
“Khethiwe!” He’s never called me by my name before, it feels
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weird.
“My office now.” He commands.
There goes my day.
“Sir it’s lunch and…”
“My office now or don’t come back from that lunch break.”
He snaps and goes back inside, banging the door behind him.
I hate him.
“Ay sorry girl, the boss has spoken. Would you like me to
bring you something?” This one is too kind. I still don’t trust
her.
“No I’ll be okay, I’ll make a plan.”
She shrugs her shoulders and walks away, leaving me to go to
the dragon’s office.
He’s busy typing something on his laptop, his face
entertaining a pucker between his eyebrows. This clearly tells
me that he isn’t having a good day.
“May I come in sir?”
No answer!
I let myself in and sit on the chair opposite him with my
notepad in hand, ready to take instructions from him.
“I have a very important business meeting with three
important clients tonight, book us dinner reservations at
iDlozi Hotel.”
He speaks without looking at me, still typing whatever it is
he’s busy with.
Wait! Where?
My insides freeze, and my mouth almost drops to the soles of
my feet. iDlozi Hotel is Kenneth’s hotel, Ntaba and Mathonga
are owners as well.
God... See my life.
It’s been so long since I last saw him, I wonder how he’s
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doing, if he’s eating well. Does he miss me as much as I miss
him?
It still baffles me how he just forgot about me considering
how he was obsessed over me and I loved that, I never had
anyone give me the kind of attention he gave me.
“Mrs. Khanyile?”
Argh, this man. He did not have to bang the table to snap me
out of my thoughts.
“Sorry sir.” I clear my throat.
I don’t realize I’m crying till a tear drop falls on my lap. Not
wanting to seem unprofessional, I quickly wipe it off. Where
the hell is this coming from? This baby better not do me like
this.
“What’s your problem?”
I’m pregnant, that’s what.
“Nothing sir, I was supressing a yawn and tears took its place
instead.”
Wow Khethiwe, just wow! Is this best you can come up with?
Jeer! Why am I intimidated by this fool? I hate that frown on
his face.
“Just so you know Mrs. Khanyile, I don’t deal too well with
incompetence. I can always replace you if you can’t do this
job.”
Haibo! And then? I thought I was the pregnant one here, so
much hormones for a man.
I’m sorry sir.” Listen to me, sounding like a broken record.
“Pull yourself together or get out of my sight.” He’s too
snappy.
NJA!
“Sor…”
“Stop saying sorry!” He barks, banging a fist on the table. I
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swear if this table could talk.
I want to laugh for some reason, this is not me. I’m putting the
blame on the baby.
This man has anger issues.
I pull myself together like he commanded, raise my eyes and
look at him with a straight face.
He seems shocked by my confidence and for a second he’s
intimidated by me, Khethiwe KaMadonsela. I know because
he clears his throat while adjusting his tie, his eyes have
become shifty.
Mr. Jordan blinks and averts his gaze, “Dinner reservations
should be at 8pm.”
“Yes sir.”
The stupid notepad freezes, my enemies are working against
me.
This man can literally make the room stand still with his
heavy presence, I want to be out of here before lunch is over.
He’s glaring at me with his eyebrows lifted, I’m starting to
think they are like that. What happened to my confidence? It’s
the pressure… yes.
“Is there a problem?” He asks, with a low tone and that time
I’m tapping the screen of the notepad trying to get it to work.
“N…no sir.”
Shit, my life is just a mess.
I see a paper and pen on his desk, grab them and begin jotting
everything down. Just when I think my life can’t get any
worse, my stomach growls so loud that he glares at me again.
Ntabezikude Khanyile, what in God’s name did you put inside
me?
“Dress code is formal, go home now and get ready. Wear
something more appealing and appropriate. It’s a five star
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hotel, you should look the part.”
My jaw drops, is this man insulting me?
Wait! What does he mean go home and change?
Please tell me he did not just say what I think he said.
“Sir, do you mean I’ll be accompanying you to the meeting.”
His black stare is too much, “Yes.”
Never!
“But sir...” I want to protest, but he raises his hand, stopping
me from speaking.
“I hate words like but… actually… can’t… just do what
you’re told.”
Arrogant bastard.
“I’m sorry sir… The thing is… I can’t…”
He heaves a sigh and roughly scrubs his face, it’s only now I
notice his manicured fingers. Life must be nice this side.
He sits back, folds his arms across his chest and tries with all
of him to intimidate me with his dark eyes. Dammit, it’s
working.
“You can’t what? Do your job?”
“No sir, I… I didn’t mean that, it’s just…”
He cuts me off, “Mrs. Khanyile, if you can’t do this job then I
suggest you leave my office and don’t ever come back.”
This man has drama shame.
Is he married? Because I feel sorry for the wife.
“I’ll go home and prepare sir.”
He glowers without saying anything, it’s making me
uncomfortable. How high can his eyebrows elevate? I know
he’s pissed off.
“You may leave.” He goes back to typing, thank God.
I gather my things and hurry out of his office.
Wow, just wow.
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I’ve met men like him and by men like him, I mean
Ntabezikude Khanyile. Mr Jordan is menacing but not as
much as Ntaba, I swear if that man did not fall for me, he
would still be making me sweat bullets.
He is too condescending and hard to read, till this day I fail to
understand him yet he knows me inside out.
He knows what I’m about to say before I even open my mouth
to speak, he knows what I’d like to eat before I ask for it. He
knows when I lie to him so basically I can’t lie to him, even
small white lies and those piss him off.
He says lying is lying, whether it’s a white lie or a black lie,
trust a Zulu man to say something like that.
Gosh! I miss my Zulu man, my mind is always occupied with
thoughts of him.
I miss his lips, his warm breath on my neck.
The way he would sneak up on me and hug me from behind,
waking up in the morning with him on top of me.
It is better I forget about Ntaba for now, if that’s possible or
else I would be hurting myself further. I don’t even know
where he is for crying out loud.

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 Chapter 14
***
Ntabezikude

Life hasn’t been easy without Khethiwe, he got so used to

being with her that being without her feels like a bad scene
from The Wife.
Dammit! In his whole life, he’s never depended on a woman
but that one has his life in her hands and he knows that
without her, he will crumble.
Unfortunately, the world would be a victim to his bad-broken
side.
He’s been watching her every move in case some bastard tries
to take chances with her, the thought of his wife with another
man is excruciating.
He’ll kill her before she even dares touch another man,
Khethiwe is his and his alone.
His blood was boiling the day that toe nail of Lucifer got her a
job, he distastes the bastard.
And Zweli Jordan… that one is a thorn in his flesh.
He’s arrogant and treats people like trash, but he doesn’t scare
him. He’s a dog with no teeth, Ntaba has been keeping tabs on
how Zweli’s treating Khethiwe. His life span drops each time
he opens that big mouth of his.
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He hasn’t been spending much time at home, everything there
reminds him of her.
It’s worse when he has to sleep on the bed sheets that are
coated in her scent, memories of her laughter would fill the
bedroom and it torments him so much that he’d crash over at
Zakhe’s.
Anger is always at the tap of the door, he’s finding it hard to
control his inner demons, but he has no choice because he has
a businesses to run. His staff is incompetent, leaving him to
fix every mistake they make.
It’s about time he does some spring cleaning or reshuffle or
something.
“Ndoda the meeting with Jordan is sorted.” Khothama says as
he settles beside him at a local bar.
It’s where they spend most of their time, drinking their
problems away.
“That fool really thinks I want to do business with him?”
Ntaba mumbles, enough for Khothama to hear.
“He’s convinced. Are you sure Khethiwe will be there? What
if she changes her mind?” Khothama.
Ntaba takes a second to gather his thoughts, in the meanwhile
emptying the last drop of liquor, he calls the waiter for a refill
and indulges immediately.
“She won’t change her mind, she’s really keen on keeping
that lousy job. That dick head threatened to fire her if she
doesn’t show up.” He says.
He takes his glass and makes his way to the lounge area,
Khothama follows behind and sits on the couch with his legs
planted on the coffee-table. Ntaba frowns and kicks them off,
but Khothama thinks it’s his mother’s place, he places them
back.
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“That fool is a slave driver ndoda, will Khethiwe be able to
keep up?” Khothama.
The thought of his wife being slave driven irks him to say the
least, it has him taking another sip. The liquor burns his throat
and forces a groan out of him.
“KaMadonsela is stronger than she looks but I swear the day I
get my hands on that fucker, he will curse his mother for
giving birth to him.”
Khothama laughs, he seems to think his cousin is funny.
“It’s a good thing we bugged that whole building, he doesn’t
know what’s coming for him.”
It’s a field day for Khothama, he’s chuckling after finding
amusement in his own words. He scratches the back of his
neck, a trait he does when excitement overwhelms him.
A smirk on Ntaba’s face, he raises his glass bringing it at
close range to his eyes and gently stirs the whiskey.
He can’t wait to unleash his anger on Zweli for all the times
he was rude to his wife.
“I’m itching for his blood,” that’s Khothama getting overly
excited, Ntaba shoots him an evil smirk.
“You should lay off the alcohol a bit, you don’t want to be
drunk when you see her.”
Cousin K is worried.
“This…” Ntaba starts and takes a sip. “This has kept me going
for months.”
“I doubt it, considering that all your employees are
complaining about your outbursts of anger, you’ve been firing
your staff like it’s on trend and don’t get me started on the
killings Ntaba. How many people must lose their lives till you
get your senses back?”
Yeah! About that, he only killed bad people who did not
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deserve to walk the face of the earth.
It started off with him being bored, then there was a woman
accusing her boyfriend of raping her, it was her word against
his.
The community ridiculed her, of course they would, her
boyfriend has a talent of lying and people bought into his lies.
But Ntaba is not people, he is an Island. A lone walker who
lives by his own rules, he haunted the man down, made him
confess while recording the confession.
The following morning a man was found hanging on a tree at
a local junxion.
The adrenalin he felt became an addiction, it helped him
forget his troubles. Sure there were plenty more, bad men
where that fool came from.
In Joburg, three men were found dead and four men in KZN,
all in a space of a month.
“As long as Khethiwe is not with me, they will continue. It’s
the only way I can unleash my full wrath or else I will self-
destruct and besides, they stepped on my toes so they
deserved it.”
Again, innocent people are off limits. Argh! Murder is murder
idiot.
“You and your toes ndoda.” Khothama cracks up and even
more when Ntaba stares down at him.
“You need to sort this out tonight, we’ve been cleaning up too
much blood lately. You know each time I close my eyes, I see
blood and dead bodies.” Khothama whines.
“Since when have you become such a pussy? Do you want me
to buy you some pads?” Ntaba sounds worried, he’s too much
really.
Khothama removes his legs off the coffee table and stands.
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“No Ndoda, everything has a limit you know and I think I’ve
reached mine.”
It’s normal for him to worry about Ntaba, when this man
starts killing, it never stops. He will get in trouble if he
continues along this path.
Ntaba is on his feet, emptying the last drop of alcohol. A little
something for the road.
“You know what? I should go, I have a business meeting to
attend. You’re boring me Khothama.” Ntaba.
The glass is placed on the table.
“Speaking of business meetings, Mzwandile Ndiweni wants a
meeting with you next week.”
This news brings a frown to Ntaba’s features, “What the fuck
does he want now?”
Mzwandile is a business man he’s once rubbed shoulders
with.
“He wants to invest in iDlozi Hotel.”
Mzwandile has always been a nuisance, his services are not
needed.
“We don’t need an investment, we’re doing just fine.” Ntaba
says, checking the time on his mobile phone.
“He’s desperate.” Khothama replies.
That’s none of his business, he couldn’t care less.
“I’m sure you can handle this one, we don’t need him. Or take
it up with Kenneth or Mathonga, although I doubt they’ll be
interested in what he has to say. Anyway, I have to go home
and get ready.”
“Sho-sho Romeo, bring her home.” A whistle erupts past
Khothama’s rolled tongue before he’s cracking into laughter.
That’s the plan, to bring Khethiwe home.

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 Chapter 15
***
Khethiwe

Being a personal assistant comes with its perks, Mr. Jordan

‘commanded’ me to accompany him to the business meeting,
as his PA of course. I was told to go home and wear
something appropriate, more formal and appealing.
I did say he’s a bastard.
There was nothing wrong with the dress I was wearing
although it didn’t hug my body like it used to. I have lost
weight due to stressing over my love life. I don’t have the
strength to go shopping for new clothes and retail therapy is
not my thing.
Mr Jordan can be rude as fuck, honestly that man needs to get
off his high horse.
Khushi or Banami would say he needs to get laid.
They are crazy those two, speaking of them, I need to meetup
with them before they start thinking I’m a snob.
Mr. Jordan said the hotel is a five star hotel, as if I didn’t
know that already.
Apparently I should dress the part.

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The man is trash I tell you and yes, the insults keep coming,
he pisses me off sometimes.
I hope Ntaba really did go to Joburg like he said and I won’t
be bumping into him, I don’t know how I will react if I see
him.
Simple is who I am, therefore I opt for a simple dress and
4inch sandals. No lipstick, just eyebrow pencil and lip gloss.
I hope Zweli finds this look appealing.
Not that I care what he thinks. This is just me trying to keep
my job, I was already walking on thin ice with him before I
even started the job.
The man can fire you for sneezing.
It is unfortunate that my car broke down, it’s too late in the
night to take a taxi. I’m in an Uber, running late, yet grateful
that the driver is not one of those talkative ones.
I don’t get why we have to go through his street.
My heart stops and suddenly I feel emotional and a tear
escapes my eye, I’m going to beat this baby when it arrives.
“Please slow down a bit.”
I don’t know why exactly I’m asking the driver to slow down
on Ntaba’s street.
“This is not our destination sisi and I need to make it quick, I
have other customers.”
Yeah right. He thinks I don’t know how Uber works.
“I’ll pay you extra.”
He shakes his head but slows down still, I can see the house
from the here, the lights are out, only a few are on. Those are
the ones he would leave on while he’s out. I miss this place.
I wonder if he still lives here or has someone new in his life.
It’s been so long since I heard from him, men move on faster
than a dog leaving its vomit behind. The thought of Ntaba
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with another woman breaks my heart, I find myself crying.
He’s supposed to be my Ntaba, love only me.
“Ai sisi, you’re crying now.” The driver’s voice takes me out
of my misery.
“I also used to cry too when I see these mansions, the rich
have it easy while we have to live in shacks. But crying won’t
help you sis’ wam, you’ll still wake up poor and miserable.”
See why Uber drivers have to keep their mouths shut?
This man is starting to get on my nerves, he sounds like a
Joburger, I can tell by the tsotsi taal and accent.
“Please drive.” I snap.
He judges me with a head shake and does my bidding.
“This is your destination?” He’s asking and not telling me.
“Thank you…”
“Sho, sho sis’ wam. So vele you came to this fancy hotel? Hee
at least you managed to find yourself a blesser who can give
you a taste of a good life, or else you’ll only see this place in
your dreams.”
Oh no he didn’t!
Why the hell am I still in this car?
“What did you say to me?”
“Haibo phola sis’ wami, angilwi. I’m stating the obvious nje
and wena you’re from the ghetto, it’s obvious you can’t afford
a cup of coffee in this fancy place. Ai phela o’ngamla ba gidla
yi.” (Rich people hang out here.)
The audacity to continue trashing me even after accepting my
money. It is funny how I find myself cracking up with
laughter, no amusement is found in my voice. I’m
flabbergasted, honestly.
“Jeer, you can talk for the whole world. Ramaphosa needs
people like you beside him. And I don’t remember asking you
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to converse with me, the only thing you had to do was your
job. That is to drive me to my destination with your mouth
shut and not give me a judgemental tour, stay in your lane.
Now give me my change.”
I wasn’t planning on asking for it, he just climbed on the
wrong tree.
“I don’t have R1 sis wami,” he says.
“Yeyi bhuti, I’m just a poor woman trying to make it in this
poverty stricken country. It is people like you who are
responsible for the poor getting poorer, give me my money.”
“All this drama for R1?” He’s shocked.
“It’s my R1, give it now.” I reach my hand out, he stares at it
with his mouth ajar. I’m making him pay for being forward
with me, bloody fool.
“Tjo!” He grumbles, dropping a silver coin on my palm.
“You see how your big mouth has cost you one less gwinya?”
I tell him before jumping out of his car.
“Tjo ai,” he gasps shockingly, wide eyes cast on me. He’ll be
strong.
I jumped out of the car and banged the door, I have never
been so insulted in my life.
Satan was making it his mission to ruin my night.
What’s the worst that could happen now?
Upon my arrival, I spot Mr Jordan’s car pulling up just as I
cross the street. A thousand eye rolls from me.
I’m tempted to tap my foot on the ground, he’s making me
wait.
If he didn’t know, he is not the king he thinks he is. Just as
I’m impatiently waiting, a silver-grey Toyota drives past and
parks right in front of Mr. Jordan’s car. I’ve seen it before, a

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couple of times actually.
Every day on my way to work, when I knock off from work
and sometimes parked a few streets away from my house. Am
I being followed?
But then again, who would actually follow me? I wish my life
was that fun but no, I am just a nonfactor.
I turn my attention back to Mr Jordan’s car. The driver gets
out and rushes to open the door for him. He exits, looking like
he always does, in a three-piece suit. If mannequin was a
person, he looks good shame although he is bold as brass.
I still say, arrogant bastard.
Mmhh! That walk I had mentioned, the ‘fuck, I own the
world’ walk. He’s doing it, at the same time buttoning his
waistcoat. He scowls at me, a habit of his, I hate it when he
does that.
“Good afternoon sir.”
The arrogant bastard cocks a brow and lifts his hand to check
the time on his clearly, expensive, wrist watch.
“It’s after 7:30pm Mrs. Khanyile, it is evening.”
Nywe, nywe, nywe! He better not start with me.
“I meant evening sir… good evening.”
I’m so close to rolling my eyes.
Why the hell am I so nervous? I guess it’s the fear of the
possibility of bumping into Ntaba. The thought of seeing him
makes my stomach turn, I try to control my breathing because
the last thing I want is to keep running to the bathroom during
a business meeting.
Some people faint, sweat or vomit when they are nervous
while as I get a runny stomach.
Zweli cocks his eyebrows for the umpteenth time, rams his

155
other hand into the pocket of his chino pants and begins
walking towards the entrance.
“It’s evening Mrs. Khanyile… nywe nywe…nywe.
Nonsense.” I grumble to myself, imitating his arrogance.
Why am I putting up with this man? I’m a Khanyile daughter
in-law for Pete’s sake.
My stomach is not doing me any justice.
Gosh, I need to relax or else I would start passing out gas and
embarrass myself.
We’re attended to by a waitress in black and white, those six
inch heels and that over the top makeup are unnecessary,
might I add.
This is not South Africa’s next top model, they should think
about us simpletons when hiring waitresses.
Ntaba might be behind this, she’s not the only one. All the
waitresses look like slay queen wannabes. Maybe he’s into
that type and I just came along with my plain Jane look.
“Good evening sir.” She flashes her customer service smile,
all adult teeth out.
Mr. Jordan is just there, arrogant as ever with the same scowl
he had outside.
“Reservations under Mr. Jordan for 8pm.” I step in, since Mr.
I am important is suddenly mute.
“Let me check for you.” She turns back to her desk.
“You look okay, lose the blazer.” A random compliment
comes from Zweli, but why judge my blazer though?
Heh! This man.
So, now he’s telling me how to dress? I’m being tested today.
I’ve been insulted enough today, first that loud mouth driver
and now this money on legs. I don’t need this shit, I glower at
him defiantly.
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“With all due respect sir…”
He cuts me off, how embarrassing.
“Oh relax, I’m trying to help since you have no sense of style
whatsoever, and just so you know, you don’t scare me. Don’t
ever look at me like that again Khethiwe.”
And, with that, he walks off following “Beyonce” there who
just called us.
“It’s Mrs. Khanyile to you, idiot.” I’m talking to myself again,
one day I will be brave enough to vomit on him.
Sigh!
I have to re-check my outfit on the mirror behind me, I don’t
look so bad. But the boss has spoken, the only reason I’m
losing the blazer is because he pays my salary. I give the
blazer to one of the waiters and follow after Mr Jordan.
No, no, no. This cannot be happening.
My feet fail me and refuse to move, suddenly everything is in
slow motion. I thought he said he’s in Joburg.
What is he doing here and why is he shaking hands with my
boss?
He looks up, our eyes meet, although I’m standing at a
distance, I can feel the intensity of his eyes piercing through
me. I can’t believe I’m looking at my husband right now. Two
months Ntaba, two months without you, and suddenly here
you are.
I’ve never really noticed how powerful and dominant he looks
in a suit, maybe it’s because he’s a track pants, hoodie-
wearing giant.
He looks so different though, I can’t put my finger to it. That
man over there is not the Ntaba I know.

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My heart is racing, I don’t know against what but, its mission
is to come first place.

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 Chapter 16

A waiter passes with glasses full of champagne, with her eyes

still fixed on him, she grabs a glass and gulps it down in one
go. A frown plasters on his face, as far as he knows, she
doesn’t consume alcohol.
Zweli notices how Ntaba is engrossed on something, curiosity
crashes over him, he turns only to find his PA staring right
back. He cocks an eyebrow, gesturing that she comes.
It’s how he communicates after all and his staff is familiar
with these arrogant gestures of his.
Clearing her throat, Khethiwe slowly begins her walk, eyes
fixed on Ntaba. She stands next to Zweli and for some reason,
can’t stop fiddling with her fingers.
“What happened to you?” Zweli asks, scrutinizing her under
his condemning gaze.
Jordan’s tone does not sit well with Ntaba, he clenches his
teeth as a great sense of anger engulfs him. Also, seeing
Khethiwe with another man appals him to the greenest of
envies. He wants to punch Zweli right here and take his wife
home with him, where she belongs.
Khethiwe knows him too well and she’s aware of the anger
brewing inside him, it’s crazy.
What the hell is he angry about?

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The giant towering over everyone clenches his fists, his eyes
resemble hell’s fires. His dark aura hovers in the room that
even Zweli feels it.
Feeling unsettled, Mr. Jordan clears his throat, snapping the
couple out of their zone.
“Hi.” Khethiwe starts with the greeting.
She reaches out for a hand shake, but this man takes the
pompous route. He chooses to glare at her with a stone-cold
look on his face, his hands still rammed in his pockets.
“What are you doing here?” Ah! He can still speak.
“I thought you said you were in Joburg.” She challenges him
instead of answering his question.
Ntaba’s eyebrow springs, the deadly stare makes her shiver.
This is her husband, she shouldn’t be feeling overawed by his
mere presence.
“I didn’t say I moved there,” comes a deep voice, rumbling
like thunder.
“You two know each other?” It’s about time Zweli said
something, they almost forgot about him.
“Old friends.”
Hold on now Khethi, don’t start a fire. The country has a
shortage of water.
While Ntaba on the other hand is a man with a short fuse, he’s
ready to let the beast out.
“Mmmhhh the world is a small place. Who would’ve thought
that my PA is old friends with Ntabezikude Khanyile? How
did you two meet anyway, I can’t imagine how this friendship
came about.”
It’s confirmed, Zweli lives in his own world. Who doesn’t
know the giggling giant and his plain Jane?
Not once has Ntaba acknowledged Zweli’s presence since
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Khethiwe joined them. He didn’t come here for him, but this
woman in front of him.
“Are we here to talk about insignificant things or business?”
Ntaba says, looking at Khethiwe who almost gasps in
disbelief.
Her eyes glint with pain as his words pierce through her heart,
what does he mean she’s unimportant?
She’s his wife, carrying his baby, heaven is her witness.
“Let’s sit, Mr Cele and Mr. Jones are on the way.” Zweli.
He fixes his tie and pulls a chair for himself of course.
The lovebirds are left standing and staring into each other’s
eyes, they blink in unison when Zweli clears his throat.
Because it’s a habit, Ntaba pulls a seat for Khethiwe.
He’s not the only arrogant bastard around here, she too can be
vile and a bitch. She ignores his efforts and selects a different
chair.
It should be a funny moment really, that’s why Ntaba is left
chuckling menacingly. He seems to love raising his eyebrows,
and clearing that throat of his. As he does this, he settles
down, and lifts his hand signalling a waitress to come.
“Yes sir?” Another waitress, another flashy smile.
“I don’t see any drinks here.” He starts coldly.
“Sir?”
She’s not getting his statement, these people have not ordered
yet. Heck, they just got here.
The giggling giant is narked by her response, she quickly
casts her eyes down. He really doesn’t have to shoot daggers
at her.
“Where is Masilo?” Ntaba asks, voice laced with annoyance.
“Sh… she…”
“Speak man.” There’s a reason why he’s snappy and very
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cold towards his employee.
Sure he knew Khethiwe would be present today, what he
didn’t know was how he would react after seeing her with this
man.
He thought he’d be able to control his jealousy, and that
things would be easier than this.
Shoot the guy for thinking she’d fall into his arms at the first
sight of him and they’d sail off into the sunset.
“Her shift ended, sir, so I...”
Just great!
Ntaba exhales deeply, he’s beyond frustrated.
“I told that girl that I have an important business meeting, that
she has to be here. But she had the audacity to defy me, and
assign a newcomer? What the hell is going on? Am I running
a fly-by-night restaurant?”
He stands and maybe he shouldn’t have, he appears more
daunting.
“I’m so…”
“Save it!” Ntaba cuts the waitress off with a raise of a hand.
“You know my menu right? Now get to work.”
“Actually sir I…” The stuttering lady can’t find her words,
tears have filled her eyes.
“Why are you crying?” Ntaba asks, not that he’s concerned.
Someone at the table sighs in exasperation, it’s none other
than his darling wife Khethiwe. He shifts his infuriated gaze
to her but Khethiwe is not affected by it.
“You’re making her nervous Ntabezikude, surely you can’t
expect her to jump for joy while you’re yelling at her like
that.” She says.
The man looking at her can’t be the jolly Ntaba she knows,
how is he so unapologetically rude.
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“Do you want to take over, KaMadonsela?” He intensifies his
gaze, it’s all done purposely. Maybe he’s crazy for acting a
fool, maybe love is to blame because when a man falls in
love, he becomes a fool.
Khethiwe nods negatively, regarding him with a condemning
gape.
“Then don’t tell me how to do my job.” He replies with a
deadpan voice.
Zweli doesn’t have to say anything, just one look from him
and Khethiwe knows she shouldn’t have uttered a word.
Ntaba dismisses the waitresses with a wave of the hand and
takes his seat. Good thing for VIP section or else all eyes
would be on them.
“That was something, I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side
Ntaba.” Zweli laughs.
“Don’t ever address me by name again, I am not your friend.”
Ntaba retorts coldly.
His dangerous aura hovers in the room, his menacing stance is
that of a lioness haunting for its cubs. It has Zweli
uncomfortably shifting in his seat, he’s never felt threatened
by anyone before.
Khanyile seems to be different, in his presence, Zweli feels as
small as a fly and that angers him greatly because people run
and hide when he enters the room, they tremble at the sight of
him.
But, not Ntabezikude Khanyile. The giant is not moved at all.
In fact, he appears to be unshrinking, cocky and mostly
undaunted which has Zweli sweating a bit.
“Alright! Shall we begin?” Zweli asks, he’s suddenly eager to
get out of here.
Ntaba calls for another waiter to service them, and right on
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queue the other business associates brace them with their
presence.
The meeting goes by smoothly, Ntaba is bored and silent 99%
of the time. Across him is his wife, she looks ravishing as
always. He can’t wait to close this stupid meeting and talk to
her.

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 Chapter 17
***
Khethiwe

How does he expect me to breathe when he’s staring like that?

He looks so tempting in a tux, my mind has found a reason to
go into the gutter.
I see myself helpless beneath him, my nails digging into his
sweaty skin and him dominating every part of me.
I can feel him at this moment, all of him.
His length expanding inside me with vicious possessiveness,
his warm breath on my skin. He has left a mark in me that no
man can ever remove.
“Breathe!” Ntaba mouths the word, a smirk twinkling at the
corner of his mouth.
I do as he says, letting a long breath I wasn’t aware I was
holding.
The unsettling dullness that had taken over his eyes has
ceased to exist, now he possesses a playful gaze. The bastard
knows I’m having sex with him in my mind.
“Excuse me, I need the rest room.” I’m wet, I think. It could
be my imagination.
“Sit down, we’re not done.” Mr. Jordan grabs my hand.
My body freezes when Ntaba shoots up, eyes burning with
165
rage. I know his history, I know he can’t control his anger.
He’s about to say something to Mr. Jordan but I beat him to it.
“Don’t touch me,” I snap, pulling my hand away and manage
to divert Ntaba’s gaze.
The look in his eyes has me chasing my breath, and quivering
in fear of what he might do to Zweli.
“I’ll be back,” my eyes are pleading with him not to do
anything stupid.
The last thing I see is his ticking jaw as I turn away, I trust
him to behave in my absence.
I’m standing in front of the mirror, gathering my thoughts
when the door swings open. Not once did I think he would
follow me here, he shuts the door and locks it.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
I trail back and only manage a step, somehow it’s become
impossible for me to use my feet. He’s trailing his slow strides
towards me, the burning lust in his eyes has kept me prisoner.
He doesn’t say anything but grabs me by the arm and holds
my hips. His scent drives all my senses apart.
“Tell me about the Ntaba that lives in your head, Khethi. Did
you like what he was doing to you back there?”
Dammit, he knows what I was thinking about.
“You’re too much, you know that?” I snap.
My breathing is going south, his closeness has me
unrestrained and bare.
Ntaba’s lips prefer to meet mine in an intoxicating kiss and
because I’m so weak for him, I allow my hands access to
wrap around his shoulders. In a second, my back is pressed
against the wall, his body trapping me.
The warmth of his tongue fills my mouth, driving me to the

166
brink of insanity. His hands move to my butt cheeks, and he
releases a strangled groan that has me moaning into his
mouth.
“Fuck! You don’t know how bad I want you right now,
Peaches.” He growls into my mouth, pulling my dress up with
his curious hands.
“Not here Ntaba… please.” I mutter, pressing myself into
him.
There’s nothing I want more than to have him buried deep
inside me.
As if he can read my mind, he deepens the kiss and uses his
knee to part my legs. Sweet shivers ripple through me when
his hand trails over my underwear.
“You’re so warm, Peaches. Let me inside you, please.”
He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth, his hand is rough
on my boob and the other works gently to rub my nether
regions.
“It feels so good, please keep doing that.” -Me.
He’s touching me yet I still need more of him.
He nuzzles my neck, sucking and biting my sensitive skin.
I have to snap out of this, I don’t want to be doing a walk of
shame out of this bathroom.
Sure no one will know we just had bathroom sex, but it will
feel like they were watching us.
“Ntaba stop,” I regret saying that and I hate him for doing my
bidding.
The old Ntaba would’ve taken what belongs to him,
unapologetically.
He creates space between us and looks at me like I hold his
life in the palm of my hands.
“I’m not going to have sex with you in the restrooms, I am not
167
that Khethiwe who let you penetrate her behind the house. I’m
not that girl who was desperate for your touch, I’m a woman
now Ntaba and I deserve your respect.”
“Okay, let’s get out of here. I miss you Peaches.” He grips my
hips, pushing his hard body into me.
Lord, he smells so damn good.
It takes all the strength in me to push him away, his stare is
too deep.
God knows I’d follow him to the ends of the earth, but I need
to learn to say no to this man.
“Go home Ntaba and take a cold shower.” It will do him
good.
I expect him to pull me back when I unlock the door and exit
the bathroom but he disappoints.

…><…

Mr. Jordan is alone, his tells us the two gentlemen have left.
There’s a way he’s looking at us, like he knows what we were
up to in the bathroom. Or it’s because Ntaba is standing too
close to me, almost leaning into me.
“Where have you been?” The boss judges me with his intense
stare.
My husband clears his throat, “I guess we are done here.”
Ntaba concludes.
His hand slips to the small of my back and because I didn’t
expect it, I startle and move but trip over the table. My palms
land on it, and mistakenly tip a half empty glass of wine. I
don’t expect it to spill on Mr. Jordan’s pants.

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I knew this day was not mine to claim.
“What the hell?”
Here we go!
“I’m sorry, that…”
“You are sorry?” Okay, he’s yelling and has brought us
unnecessary attention.
“So you and that bloody waitress, same WhatsApp group,
huh?”
He’s talking about the lady, Ntaba scolded earlier, and no I’m
nothing like her.
“Don’t talk to her like that you piece of shit.” Ntaba steps
forward, shielding me as if Zweli will strike me with a fist.
I hate attention, I hate being watched and I hate that everyone
is looking at us.
Zweli looks ready with a clap back, I can’t let that happen.
“It was a mistake sir,” I step in.
He forgets about Ntaba and brings his attention to me.
“Do you know how much these pants cost you stupid dumb
wit? Not even your father’s retirement fund can pay for
them.”
Bringing my father into this is one thing I will not stand, I
don’t even talk about my father.
I want to tell him to watch his mouth, but Ntaba grabs him by
his suit jacket.
“What the fuck did you say to her?” Ntaba.
The drama is giving me a headache.
“Ntaba let him go.” I really don’t mean it, I want him to slap
him around a little.
Then again we are in public, we need to act like civilised
human beings.
“No, I will not stand here and listen to this fool insult you.”
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He’s shaking the poor man.
This must be bad for business, I wonder if Mathonga and
Kenneth will approve of such behaviour.
“Mrs. Khanyile is my employee, I can treat her how I see fit.
Who is she to you that you’re so bent on protecting her?”
Zweli is asking for it, maybe it’s time I let Ntaba be Ntaba.
My husband turns his intense gaze my way, his eyes are the
devil’s playground.
I can’t believe Zweli just said that, he thinks he owns me.
How delusional of him.
“That’s Mrs. Ntabezikude Khanyile to you.” Ntaba says.
Mr. Jordan’s eyes widen with shock, he looks at me. The look
in my eyes is challenging him to say something stupid.
“H… he’s your husband?” He mutters, shakily.
“Yes, we are married.” I say, removing Ntaba’s grip from his
collar. “Please excuse us.”
I grab my husband by the hand and take him to a secluded
place.
“What’s wrong with your hands Ntaba? If you’re not
punching someone, you’re pinning them against something. I
have made something for myself without your help, are you
going to ruin this for me as well?” I snap.
He raises an eyebrow in response to my scolding, he’s not
fond of being scolded this one, hence the clenched jaw.
“Is this how you speak to me now Khethi?”
Yeah! The men we choose to let inside our vaginas.
“Still so egoistic, this is not about you Ntabezikude.”
“Khethiwe that man does not respect you.”
“He’s my boss, and I know you Ntaba. You will find ways to
get rid of him, that’s how you operate. You don’t fix your
problems but make them disappear. Leave Mr. Jordan alone.”
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I cut in.
Sure, the boss is not my favourite person in the world, but he
pays me.
“You’re my wife Khethiwe, I vowed to protect you and that’s
exactly what I’ll do.” He snaps, narrowing his eyes.
His outburst takes me by surprise, Ntaba is a violent man but
he speaks calmly most of the time.
“Yes I get that and I know it very well, but I don’t want you
killing people in my name or for my sake. I never asked you
to kill for me.”
Killing people is a vile habit of his, one I detest so much. My
child will not have a murderer for a father.
“Why are you talking to me like that? What the hell is your
problem?” He asks after a few seconds of staring.
“You’re my problem, you threw me away like trash and now
you’re here pretending that you care.” Now that I think about
it, I am angry that he’s been gone for so long and never
bothered to check on me.
“I threw you away Khethiwe? Who left who here? Huh?
Because last I remember you left me, you wanted nothing to
do with me. You literally forced me to live without you.” He
shoots back, this time he doesn’t manage to hide the hurt in
his voice.
My shoulders slump in defeat, we’re talking about so many
things at once, but at the same time it’s merged together.
“Maybe I wasn’t strong enough to fight for us and maybe I
wanted you to fight for me, after fighting me. But, what did
you do Ntaba? You fucking walked away, you severed ties
with me.” I have every right to raise my voice at him.
I’m hurting, I’ve been hurting for a long time.
Ntaba wears a distressed face, “You told me to go. You
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wanted nothing to do with me. I was merely granting your
wish.”
“Over two months, we’re approaching three that you’ve been
away and not once did you try to check up on me. Do you
know how many times I blamed myself for that slap? Maybe I
asked for it, maybe in your eyes I became lower than the soles
of your feet. Otherwise you wouldn’t have lifted even a finger
on me.”
There’s that look again, he’s looking at me like I want to hurt
him.
“Peaches…”
“No, I am not your Peaches, Ntaba. Just your brainless stupid
wife who…”
“Don’t say that, please.”
“And why not? That’s how you think of me, anyway. You
claim to love me but at every chance you get, you demean me
and treat me like an object, something you control.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise because you’re compelled to,” I tell him.
He steps back, ramming his hands into the pockets of his
pants.
“What do you want from me, KaMadonsela?”
All of him, the breath in his lungs. Every beat of his heart, I
want him bare and uncensored, I want his obsession, the
beautiful kind.
“Nothing.” I lie.
He is not a child, I am not going to tell him what to do. When
he’s ready to apologise he needs to do it properly. I want him
to apologise because he means it not out of obligation.
“You don’t need him, you’re my wife. I can take care of you,
let me take care of you.” He goes for my hand, I dodge it.
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He can’t be touching me, he’s my weakness and he knows it. I
crumble and conform from barely a touch, his touches burn
my insides and give him access to the deepest parts of my
being—parts I myself do not have access to.
“You don’t want me touching you?” He sounds broken and
looking at me like a lost puppy, like I am trying to rip his
heart out of his chest.
“You don’t get it, do you? It’s not about you Ntaba, or Mr.
Jordan. For once I have chosen myself, something I struggled
with since I came to love you. I want to put myself first, I
want to think about me first before the man I’m married to or
anyone else. For a change, I am learning to love me despite
the insecurities I have, it’s not about the money or punishing
you. It’s about me.”
I don’t know if he understood a thing I said, he’s glaring, a
frown across his face. His jaw clenches and unclenches, I spot
something in his eyes—a challenge of some sort. I don’t know
exactly what kind of challenge, but it’s present, as clear as
water.
A sigh leaves me against my will, “Goodbye.”
My heart cracks when I turn my back to him, my feet are
heavy, threatening to give up supporting my body. I want to
stay and go back home with him, but he needs to work to get
me back.

…><…
I find Mr. Jordan outside, he regards me with a condemning
glare. I don’t have the energy for him. I realise I forgot my
blazer inside when the evening breeze crashes against my
skin.

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“My office, 8am tomorrow.” He says when his chauffeur
swings the car door open.
“It’s a Sunday tom…”
“I swear you’re starting to get on my nerves, I have just about
one Mrs. Khanyile, one last fucking nerve. Don’t piss me off,
my office tomorrow or don’t come back to work on Monday.”
He dashes into his car and is gone in a flash.
One day, just one day.

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 Chapter 18
***
Ntabezikude

His G-Wagon drives in at exactly 11:17pm, it’s very late for

normal humans. Mathonga seems to think so as well, even
though he’s waiting outside in the cold for him. If anyone, he
gets Ntaba. It could be that he sees through him, through the
darkness and the thick skin.

“Injure one, injure all. Is that the motto you live by?”
Mathonga questions him as soon as he steps out of the car.
He’s still annoyed by the phone call he received from this one
not so long ago, he had to leave his wife in bed just to keep
his brother company.
“What are you talking about?” A confused Ntaba asks,
leaning to place a kiss on his little brother’s forehead.
“Thonga lami.”
That’s his greeting.
He looks and feels tired, all he wants is someone to listen to
him and this is the only place he could think of; home. He has
a lot of venting to do, both to Mathonga and his ancestors.
Despite their age difference, these two are inseparable.
“Ndoda, you drove all the way from Hillcrest to here just to
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torment me. Sleep is important you know?”
He’s talking to himself, Ntaba is not listening.
The house is silent, still in the midst he feels the warmth of a
home.
“How is MaShange?” He throws himself on the couch, a
carton of mageu in hand.
“Sleeping… alone in our bed.” Mathonga emphasises on that,
settling on a different couch.
“And Zandla?” Ntaba asks, paying no mind to Mathonga’s
low-key complaint.
“He misses you, when did you get back?”
“Last week, maybe I shouldn’t have.” Ntaba says.
It so unlike him to drown in self-pity, Mathonga welcomes a
frown. This can’t be the strong brother he knows, his Ntaba is
a lion.
He doesn’t have to verbally raise a question, his inquisitive
gaze is enough.
“I fucked up ndoda, like I always do.” Ntaba replies to the
muted question.
He is aware of his own errors in this, and he has no one else to
blame but himself. Sometimes he lays in his empty bed at
night and wonders if Khethiwe would still be with him had he
done things right.
He is so addicted to messing things up for himself and the
people around him that he is so sure that had he not slept with
Thethelela, perhaps and that’s a small fraction of maybe; he
would have done something different to ruin what he and
Khethiwe had.
“It’s not hard to figure that one out, what did you do?” This
one knows him way too much.
Ntaba exhales before he’s slouching into the couch, “The plan
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was to bring her home but it wasn’t as easy as I thought. Her
boss is an asshole, he doesn’t respect her and Khethiwe lets
him. That’s not my Peaches, my Peaches is a fighter. She
doesn’t let people walk all over her.”
“Maybe your Peaches has matured into a woman who thinks
before she acts.”
“If that’s maturity, then I don’t want it. I almost slit his
throat.”
“You worry me sometimes Ntaba, when will you stop taking
lives?”
“Maybe this is who I am, I don’t think I want to change. I’m
okay being this person, Ntaba can’t grow weak. I have
enemies who are waiting for a chance to attack, when they
hear of my weakness, they will leave no stone unturned.”
The look Mathonga gives him…
He knows he’s not making sense to his brother, but to him it’s
as clear as it is.
“What about God and the elders? They are here to fight those
who fight against you. All you have to do is stand still and let
them.” Mathonga is speaking a foreign language.
Ntaba has no patience for God and ancestors, he’ll leave that
to Mathonga. Drowning in deep thought, he lays down on the
couch, his arms becoming a pillow and gets lost somewhere
between his heart and head. He’s too big for the couch but it’s
not a big issue to worry about.
“How is Khethiwe and the baby? Did you get to ask her about
the pregnancy?” Mathonga.
No secret is safe from this one, he happened to accidentally
tell Ntaba that Khethiwe is pregnant before she herself knew
about it.
“She didn’t give me a chance, she’s more stubborn than ever.”
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Ntaba replies with a heavy exhalation.
Mathonga finds it funny, he laughs. “She’s carrying a mini
you, of course she will be stubborn.”
That’s meant to make him laugh, yet Ntaba doesn’t entertain
his brother.
He’s hearing footsteps from a distance, but pays no attention
to it that even when Ndleleni and Khothama walk in, he
doesn’t move his eyes from the ceiling.
“You’re finally here?” Khothama says.
He’s wearing long pyjamas and flip-flops, he’s been sleeping
here for the past two weeks. Zilile threw him out of his
father’s house because of his cheating ways, Ndleleni is here
on business.
“What’s the emergency? You said to come urgently.” That’s
Ndleleni, he finds a seat and makes himself comfortable. No
one likes being woken up from a deep sleep, that’s why he
looks grumpy.
Mathonga points at Ntaba with his head, “Injure one, injure
all. I can’t suffer alone madoda.”
Really!
Ndleleni’s annoyance shoots up, this can’t be happening to
him.
“Ntaba, what happened to your house? Why are we being
punished so late at night?” Ndleleni complains.
“Is Mgobhozi there and you don’t want to be in the same
house as her?” Khothama asks.
There’s an inside joke and he seems to be the only one getting
it. The stares Khothama receives are questioning his sanity.
“You guys know I just found my mother’s side of the family,
right?” He starts to explain. “I think what they say about aunts
is true.”
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Trust Khothama to take the conversation south.
“What?” Ntaba is allowed to be confused.
“Aunts and witchcraft, same WhatsApp group. Especially the
ones from your father’s side.” Khothama wriggles his brows
and Ntaba simply scoffs at his not-so-funny joke.
The joke is not funny to him, maybe because he’s nursing a
broken heart but Mathonga and Ndleleni are not. They are
dead with laughter.
“What about the maternal family?” Ndleleni asks.
“They have their days,” Khothama. “I have cut ties with my
mother’s side of the family. Those people are witches I tell
you, they will bewitch you while sitting right next to you.
This one time I caught my aunt squatting outside the gate at
night. I had just come home from a party around 2 to 3am,
and I see this silhouette by the gate. My heart stopped
instantly.”
He has caught everyone’s attention with this one.
“Mind you, it’s in the wee hours of the morning, and dead
quiet outside, so I could hear my heart thudding against my
chest. I don’t know where I got the nerve, or it was the
alcohol. But I went closer to see what it really was and just as
I was about to touch…”
Ndleleni’s eyes widen, he’s not shocked but amused.
“You touched it?” He asks.
“I was curious, and it moved and started rising slowly.”
Khothama continues. “I almost died when I noticed that it was
a person.”
“Ndoda, your curiosity is fucked up.” Finally, Ntaba is
engaging in the conversation.
Khothama, Mathonga and Ndleleni exchange glances. The

179
sooner they get him in a good mood, the sooner they can go to
bed.
“Then what happened?” Mathonga asks.
“She turned around and I saw my aunt, my mother’s sister.”
Khothama. “When I asked what she was doing, she said she
lost an earring.”
“At 3am?” Ndleleni.
They chorus in laughter.
“I woke up that morning with a headache from hell, she
couldn’t look at me in the eyes. I had to leave that place, I
packed my shit and came back home.” He shakes his head and
rubs his hands together.
“Aren’t you afraid she might come for you?” Mathonga is
asking because he sees these things, they happen.
“I’m in the Khanyile territory, she’s a shark without teeth.”
Khothama waves his hand unbothered, he’s so sure the
Khanyile ancestors don’t play when it comes to their own.
“A vampire without fangs.” Ndleleni adds, unable to control
his horse laugh.
Khothama smiles and nods, “A fish without a fishtail.”
What the fuck did he just say?
Silence!
He shrugged his shoulders and like a choir, they chorus in
ugly laughter.
Mathonga is the first to put himself back to order, his eyes are
on Ntaba who is rolling on the couch, trapped in laughter.
This is what he wanted, for his brother to forget his troubles
even for a second.

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 Chapter 19
***
Khethiwe

Mr. Jordan was a no show the following day, I couldn’t get

through to his phone. I hate him for being an ass, I expected
an apology. Jesus would’ve descended from heaven had that
happened.
I’m learning to ignore him and his tantrums, it makes life a lot
less unbearable and my job as his PA easy.
I’m having a crappy morning, must be the pregnancy. I don’t
think coming to work to find people pointing fingers at you
and whispering god-knows-what is an idea of a good morning.
Zithu is walking up to me and Notofo following behind. She’s
the girl whose job I took.
When did these two become a tag team and what the hell do
they want from me?
“Is it true?” Notofo, I’m already annoyed by her face and I’m
doing a very good job by not hiding it.
“Whatever it is, no.”
I am in no mood to answer questions, they better get out of
my sight.
“You know how to keep secrets Khethiwe.” Zithu says, she

181
has this stupid smile on her face.
“What are you talking about?” Since they are not leaving me
alone, I might as well indulge and ask.
“This.”
She shows me her phone screen, I frown. How is this any of
their business?
“It says here that you’re married to Ntabezikude Khanyile, the
Giggling Giant.” Zithu again.
She’s nosy like this one next to her, and right now, I’m ready
to let my bitchy side out.
“Some of us are here to work, not take part in meaningless
conversations.” I’m trying to be rude here and I hope it’s
working.
How did they find out about Ntaba? And that picture on her
phone, I want it deleted.
“Oh, don’t be a bitch. Tell us how it’s like being married to
the Giggling Giant.” Notofo. “How did you end up with him
anyway? I can’t really imagine a simple girl like…”
I can’t do this, I walk away before she finishes vomiting out
the shit from her mouth. My temper has been crazy lately, just
one wrong move and I lose it.
Throughout the day, I work extra hard to avoid the office
radios. Zithu and company.
Work is peaceful till 12pm, thankfully.

Mr Jordan showed his face once today, he’s been locked in his
office since morning. Nothing new.
Bahle is in there as well, I don’t know what they are
discussing.
He didn’t say a word to me when he got here, men go through

182
mood swings as well.
I have been distancing myself from him lately, I’m a married,
pregnant woman.
I don’t want to appear characterless, Bahle knows there can
never be a chance for us to be close again. I went as far as
blocking him on WhatsApp and deleting his number, he
hasn’t pushed or begged me to let him back in.
Nevertheless, I appreciate him and everything he has done for
me.

Since Zweli is on his periods today, I sneak out of the office

to meet up with Nala.
She insisted we meet at iDlozi hotel, I’m not sure I’m
comfortable with being here. These slay queen waitresses all
over this place still intimidate me.
“Look at you, glowing and all.” She says as she hugs me.
No greetings here.
“You’re pregnant.” She adds.
“Can’t a person glow without a reason?” I ask and she laughs.
“No.” She says, I give up.
“It must be the pregnancy.” Boom!!! I drop the bomb on her.
“You’re pregnant?”
Haibo! Such a big smile for my pregnancy.
“Wow, congratulations.”
“How about you come over for dinner tomorrow night?”
I was afraid of this, I might have to decline. Ntaba and I are
not on speaking terms.
“Rain check, work is keeping me on my toes.” I’m lying here.
Nala understands, she of all people understands that I need to
stop chasing after Ntaba.

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That means, not meeting up with the family. I ask her not to
tell anyone about the pregnancy, but this one is married to a
spiritually gifted person.
Mathonga probably knows already.

…><…

“Mrs Khanyile, my office now.” Zweli peeps through the door

crack as he commands.
Great!!! The reason I came back to the office is because I left
my phone or else I would have just gone home, I know he is
going to lecture me.
I didn’t know Bahle was still here, he stands up as I walk in. I
don’t know why he is so serious and I shouldn’t care.
“Khethiwe!” He says, only now he decides to acknowledge
my existence.
“Hi.” I reply.
“Sit.” Mr. Jordan demands, he has this intimidating look on
his face.
I take a sit, Bahle is standing behind me.
“Where did you go?” Zweli asks.
“Lunch sir.” I respond.
“Who said you could take lunch?”
“It was lunch break sir and my contract clearly states that I
have the right to do so.” I’m willing to stand up for myself.
“That same contract states that you need to be around when I
need you. Why do I feel that you don’t want this job
anymore?” He says.
Here we go again.
“If taking lunch shows you that, then I don’t know what to say

184
because every employee in this firm is entitled to at least an
hour break if not more.” I say.
He raises an eyebrow and squints his eyes at me.
“I see you have a smart mouth now, Mrs Khanyile.”
No, I’m standing up for myself and refusing to take bullshit
from you.
“I’m just stating the facts sir.” I will not be pushed over by
this man.
He sits back, puts his elbow on the table and presses his
pointer finger on his cheek while the rest balance his chin.
He’s looking intensely at me, as if trying to read my thoughts
I have to admit that it is a bit uncomfortable.
Bahle clears his throat after what seems like a lifetime and
Zweli snaps out of it.
“Zweli, we have to be somewhere remember?” Bahle.
The boss stands up, loosens his tie and looks at me.
“The day is over, go home.” That’s all he ever does,
command.
“Khethiwe!” Bahle calls me before I could walk out. “When
last did you talk to your mother?”
Eh! This man knows that my mother distanced herself from
me, she wants nothing to do with me.
“Why?”
“Call her,” he says.
“I don’t have to call my mother, she’s living her best life with
your father. Am I right?” I challenge his stare.
For a while, his jaw ticks.
“Just call your mother, she’d be happy to hear from you.”
Why is he persistent? He should be hating her for stealing his
mother’s husband.
Bahle clears his throat, he comes closer and whispers in my
185
ear. “Nice to see you again, pregnancy looks good on you.”
My eyes widen, am I showing? He looks at my belly, smiles
and it appears he has more to say to me.
“I hope he treats you well this time around, you’re a good
woman Khethiwe. You deserve all the love in the world,
unfortunately, I’m not the one for you. I will never bother you
again, I swear.”
“Bahle… I…”
I don’t know what to say.
“It’s okay, I just want you to be happy and don’t worry about
my cousin. He’s always been a pain in the arse.”
He laughs and throws Zweli a look, Zweli is not about to
smile today.
“Take care of yourself,” Bahle says and walks out with Zweli.
It feels like that is the last I will ever see of Bahle, I can only
wish him the best. As far as my mother is concerned, I am not
poking a snake in its hole.

…><…

I am not okay, I haven’t seen or heard from Ntaba in months.

I don’t know if he’s still alive. The person I have seen a lot of
is Khothama, I find it strange that he seems to appear
everywhere I am.
Something tells me that he’s keeping an eye on me on behalf
of someone.
The baby bump is showing, it’s all out for the world to see
that I had sex. My baby is growing. So is my nose. I’m seven
months pregnant, in my third trimester and the father is

186
nowhere to be seen. He probably knows, nothing passes that
man.
I’m approaching another year without Ntaba, how I am doing
this is beyond me. That moment we had at iDlozi Hotel lives
in me, it was the closest I had gotten to him after the
separation.
It gets me through bad days, my baby too. I’m counting weeks
now, I will be a mother soon. My heart jumps with joy when I
think about him.
Yes, I’m having a boy. I was too impatient to wait to find out
the sex of the baby.
Work is still hell, Zweli walks around like a pregnant woman.
His moods are on another level and everyone at work is
walking on egg shells.
Right now he’s looking at me like he’s ready to kill me, his
eyes are fiery.
“What did I say Mrs. Khanyile? This is not what I asked for,
now we’ve lost our biggest client because of you. Why are
you so incompetent?”
He’s been screaming at me for the past five minutes, from the
moment I walked in here. Everyone’s morning started with
me, they are all standing in the foyer, watching this
meaningless drama.
“I’m sorry sir, but I wrote it all down here. This is exactly
what you asked for.” I defend myself.
I never make such mistakes, my boss is angry for nothing.
“Shut up.” He screams, I flinch. “I will not take this from you,
do you hear me? I don’t know why I hired you, you’re lacking
in your work Mrs. Khanyile. You’re useless, useless.” He’s
still shouting and at this point, I’ve unlocked the gates of the
anger within me.
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“Are these the results of being married to a murderer, huh?
You think you can do whatever you want? You think we’re
afraid of you, we’ll tremble at the sight of you?” Where does
Ntaba fit in all of this?
This is exactly what I have been afraid of, this serial killer
title hanging over Ntaba and our children all their lives. I can’t
imagine my baby going through what I’m going through right
now.
These colleagues, gossip mongers, are ogling at me. I see it in
their inquisitive eyes, how they are judging the man I’m
married to through me. My heart breaks, not for myself but
Ntaba and my baby and Zamangwane.
I’m about to give Zweli a befitting reply when something
unexpected takes place.
“You better take that back if you know what’s good for you.”
A familiar voice thunders as it fills the spacious office.
It’s Khothama, he looks different.
I don’t know this side of him, he’s wearing a three piece grey
suit without a tie –hands tucked in his pockets and has a scowl
on his face. It’s the powerful, standoffish demeanour spewing
out of him that has me gasping.
He ambles towards us and towers over Zweli who looks
terrified like he’s just seen a ghost, funny how these
Khanyiles always tower over other men in the room.
“Do you know who you’re dealing with Jordan?” Khothama
asks.
It feels like I’m looking at Ntaba.
“Khanyile, what are you doing here? This is my law firm.”
Zweli says through a shaky voice.
He knows Khothama too?
“What are you playing at Jordan?” Khothama.
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“How I talk to my employees has nothing to do with you.”
Zweli sputters.
It’s so funny how he’s looking up at Khothama and gulping at
every second granted to him.
“True,” Khothama chuckles darkly. “But how you talk to this
particular employee has everything to do with me.”
He points at me with his head.
“You’re playing with fire Jordan. Now, you will take back
what you said to her and apologize in front of everyone. Since
you like acting so much, let’s continue with the show shall
we?” He says, with a frown.
Right now I am scared of this man, this is not the playful,
womaniser that I know.
“Who the hell do you think you are? I’m not going to listen to
you.” Zweli shouts, stepping back from Khothama.
I don’t think Mr. Jordan can get away from him, not with that
heavy aura pouring out from him.
“You know I can have this little firm shut down in an hour,
your accounts wiped out in seconds. What will you do then,
huh? You’ll have no choice but to go back to your
grandmother in Thembisa, how is that little shack you left her
in? Poor woman, she raises you, pays for your school fees till
you graduate and you turn your back on her? You’re a
disgrace Jordan.” Khothama opens a can of worms, I hear
gasps around.
Mr. Jordan blinks more than once, his eyes move around.
He’s clothed in shame.
“Don’t test me, Jordan, I hate being tested and you will not
like it when I react.” He grunts.
Zweli takes another step back, clears his throat as he fixes his
tie.
189
“Okay, let’s do this. I missed the episode of The Wife last
night and I’m in the mood for some drama.” That’s
Khothama, taking it to the streets now, he’s laughing.
He’s back to being an idiot. By the way, he doesn’t watch the
show.
He pulls my chair from behind the desk and takes a sit,
crosses his leg over the other and folds his arms across his
chest.
“Action.” He says, calmly so.
Zweli is glaring at me, he doesn’t want to do this. I want him
to do this, besides, this Khanyile tower light is not giving him
any options.
“I said action.”
I look around, people are whispering, and laughing. These
bloody hypocrites, they were ready to persecute me a while
ago.
“I’m sorry.” Zweli mumbles, he’s not looking at me.
“I didn’t hear you, did anyone hear him?” So much drama for
an apology. Only Khothama is capable of it.
“No.” A few girls say out loud before laughing.
“Bhuti, all of this is not necessary.” I say.
Oh, it so necessary it’s not even funny.
He lifts his brows, “Would you rather he deals with him?
Because we both know it won’t be a nice scene.”
The whisper is for me, and I know who “him” is.
Ntaba would not take this lightly, that one acts first and acts
questions later.
“I don’t have all day Jordan, get to it.” This guy though…
he’s chuckling.
I get the glare again from my boss, “I am sorry Mrs. Khanyile
for the way I spoke to you.”
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These people better be recording this, I’m going to need
evidence.
“And?” Khothama raises his eyebrows, a challenge.
“And, you can have the rest of the day off.” Zweli.
“Oh come on, just a day? This episode is boring, we’re falling
asleep here.”
Khothama is having a field day at the expense of this poor
man, gosh I have never been so proud of anyone in my life.
“You can have two days off.” Zweli says, his voice kept low.
“Eish, I tried. It’s better than nothing though, Khethi.”
Khothama claps twice, as he gets up from the chair.
“Actually, I need an early maternity leave. Starting today.”
That’s me, a smile crossing my face.
“Sure, why not.” Zweli.
I have never seen him so humble.
“That’s settled then,” Khothama, “By the way, your acting is
terrible Jordan. Stick to law, at least you try there.” He
delivers, patting Zweli’s back.
He looks at me, “Don’t worry Khethi, your job will be here
when you get back. Right Zweli?”
The smirk on his face right now.
“Yes.” Is said through clenched teeth.
“Get your things.”
Cousin in-law is commanding me, he’s back to being that
standoffish man that walked in here a few minutes ago.
I don’t argue with him, I grab my things and follow him out.
There’s loud clapping and cheering as we make our way out,
this hatred everyone has for Zweli is crazy. People are bold
enough to laugh in his face.
I’m going to miss all the drama, I don’t like Zithu that much
but I text her telling her to send me the video.
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*Which video?*
Is accompanied by a laughing emoji and a goofy face.
I don’t reply, she knows which video.

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 Chapter 20
***
Banami

Sorting out their differences is never a problem when they can

squeeze and fit on the same bed, but sometimes things seem to
take a different turn. Banami’s fear of falling pregnant and
Ndleleni’s desperation of becoming a father seems to divide
them sometimes.
She’s sitting on the couch catching up on her favourite TV
shows when Ndleleni joins her. The feel of his hand in her
hair calms her. She smiles and lays her head on his shoulder.
“How about we go out?” Ndleleni.
They haven’t done that in a while.
“No.” Basically, she is sulking.
“Come on, you won’t regret it I promise.” Ndleleni pleads,
staying indoors would only drive them crazy.
“I don’t think I’m in the mood for a crowd.”
“Are we there already, the old couple stage? I thought we still
have sixty more years to go.” He’s teasing her.
Banami titters, he has a point. They hardly ever go out nor
enjoy themselves as a couple.
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“Ah, and there is that laugh, music to my ears.” Ndleleni,
before kissing the top of her head.
“Flattery will not get you anywhere,” is said with a smile on
her face.
“Eish! I was hoping it would help convince you.” He jokes.
He’d throw the world’s lamest jokes if he could, just to see a
smile on her face.
“Fine, let’s go. Only because I can’t say no to you.” Her hand
gently lands on his cheek, Ndleleni kisses the palm of her
hand.
“I love you.” He’d remind her every second of every day if he
could.
“I love you, Ngwane.” She never gets tired of saying it.
Maybe going out is not such a bad idea, the guy took a day off
from work just to be with her. So the least she can do is make
the best of it.

…><…

“You know you didn’t have to take time off work just to take
me out?” Banami says, glancing at him from the passenger
seat.
“I took time off work to be with you, it’s important to me.”
His reply comes after what seems like forever.
Banami is left speechless.
Their destination is uShaka Marine world, they are standing
outside the entrance, hand in hand. The confusion on
Banami’s face is as clear as daylight.
“Why are we here?” No because this is not Ndleleni’s taste.
“It’s a date.” He can’t even force a smile.

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“Marine world?” The questions keep coming.
“Why not?” Ndleleni asks, like it’s a norm to visit such
places.
“Ngwane, you don’t do crowds.”
“Says who?” He breathes, at least he’s trying to breathe. He
hasn’t walked through the gate yet, but he’s half past to
panicking.
“You and your demeanour.” She laughs, Ndleleni ogles down
at her.
“What’s wrong with my character?” He’s confused, hence the
frown. Banami challenges the stare, only for her to conform a
second later.
“Nothing.” She smiles. “You are perfect.”
She strokes his cheek before wrapping her arms around his
waist, he has his hands in his pockets.
“Would you believe it if I say I have plan B?” He winks.
Banami dies with laughter, she saw this coming. This one can
be predictable sometimes.
“What’s plan B?” The curiosity on her face.
“Come with me,” he takes her hand and leads her back to the
car.
They are on the road again, the anticipation of not knowing
has Banami dancing with excitement.
In less than twenty minutes, they standing on the rooftop of
Khanyile Holdings. A white stretch tent has been set up, under
it is a blanket, two cushions and a picnic basket.
“Baby, you did this?” This… she did not expect.
Ndleleni shifts his gaze to her, “I like it more when you call
me baby.”
Where did that come from? Banami smiles at his randomness.
“Mr. Khanyile, you have secrets hey.”
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He shrugs, “I come here when I need a break, to scream my
frustrations out or just to think. It’s the loneliest place in the
world for me, but today if feels different with you here. I
know it will never be the same, I will never look at it and not
see you standing beside me.”
This has got to be another surprise, Ndleleni is hardly
expressive. It happens when he’s messed up and wants to
apologise.
“I love it baby, thank you.” She says, standing on her toes to
place a kiss on his lips. His arms enwrap around her, he pecks
her lips a few times.
“Thank you for not leaving me, even when I was a jerk. I will
never pressure you to do anything you don’t want.”
His arms are tight around her, they are caught in a moment.
“Shall we eat? I’m starving.” She takes his hand and pulls him
under the tent.
One step at a time and they will make it. The journey of love
is not easy, but worth it.

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 Chapter 21
***
Khethiwe

Khothama wanted to take me to Ntaba’s house that day, I

didn’t let him. His cousin has not shown his face in months,
showing up unexpectedly would have been wrong.
He owes me an apology for everything he’s put me through, a
proper one. Sorry does not cut it.
It’s been a week since I took maternity leave, life is boring in
this small house. All I do is eat, sleep, repeat.
Funo visits a lot, I speak to the ladies via WhatsApp. None of
them have mentioned Ntaba, they know my mood changes
whenever he’s brought up.
I’m lying on the couch, stuffing my face with food when my
phone beeps with a message.
*Turn on to Mzansi Magic.*
It’s from Banami and because I like things, I jump for the
remote.
“I don’t know if I can cook, I can boil water though.”
His voice fills my space before the screen becomes clear, my
heart does a double flip.
Ntaba looks like a snack in an apron, he’s on the show Dinner
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at Somizi’s, this man will embarrass himself on national
television.
How does he know how to cook? Forget about boiling water.
He doesn’t know how to add water into a pot, you need to be
skilled in that as well.
“The world has dubbed you “The Giggling Giant.” But that’s
not who you really are, tell us about yourself. Who is
Ntabezikude Khanyile?” Very tricky question.
He laughs as he folds his arms, it’s one of those head-thrown
back laughs that make me weak in the knees. Somizi seems to
catch the joke. Really?
“I’m just a village boy from Izingolweni.” That’s all he gives
the host, you can tell he wants more but Ntaba is done.
My husband grabs a piece of something from the countertop
and tosses it into his mouth, he seems to not like the taste. He
chokes for a second, Somizi bursts into laughter before he’s
grabbing a glass of water.
Jealousy tickles me when he helps him drink. I don’t like
nonsense, Ntaba is not the next Mohale.
“Your wife? You’ve kept her from the public, who is she?
And why keep her a secret?”
Now that he’s mentioned me, the jealousy demon runs away.
“My wife is a very private person, trust me, she’d be known
had she wanted people to know her.”
“The look in your eyes just changed at the mention of your
wife, bak’thathile vele?” Somizi.
The laugh again, “You had asked who Ntabezikude Khanyile
is.”
The host nods, he stops dicing onions and gives Ntaba
attention.
“Ntabezikude Khanyile is KaMadonsela’s husband,” he raises
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his eyes to the camera. “My wife defines me, she has made
me the person I am today. You know that phrase ‘Indoda
must?”
Where is he taking this? My insides are dancing, I don’t think
it’s good for the baby.
“Indoda must be a Khanyile.” Somizi says and laughs.
Ntaba cackles at the joke.
“Indoda must find a woman like Khethiwe Madonsela,
otherwise ‘Indoda must not’ even bother with love.” He says.
That’s funny but sweet and stupid, my heart has melted into a
puddle.
My husband has grown soft, I want him back.
“Yhuu shame! Khethiwe Madonsela wherever you are,
Mzansi hates you.” Somizi teases.
He must leave me alone before he burns the onion on national
television. I need to find my husband.
“iDlozi hotel is one of your babies, who do you manage it
with? Are your brothers in it as well?”
That’s the last thing I hear as I rush to the bedroom to pack
my things, I’m going back home.
My phone buzzes with a text message, Funokuhle is watching
the show, he wants to come fetch me. It won’t be necessary,
Ntaba is in Joburg. He will probably be home by midnight if
not tomorrow.
*I’ll manage babe, I still have usgedlembe.* -me.
*Go home then, we’ve seen and acknowledged your
stubbornness. Your man is waiting, keep me posted.* -Funo.
He’s crazy but right, and that’s what I plan on doing.
I’m dragging my suitcase down the passageway when my
aunt walks in, her eyes find the suitcase then me.
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“You’re leaving?” By the tone of her voice, she knows where
I’m going.
“My husband needs me and I need him,” I say.
Of all people, she knows how much I have suffered being
away from that man.
“I’m not going to stop you, don’t come back this time. You’re
a woman now Khethi. In the past months, I have watched you
grow into an amazing, strong woman. You don’t run when
things are bad, you fight. Problems will always be there, no
matter how far you run. When you come back, you will find
them waiting for you right where you left them.”
She loves taking Dr. Phil’s job, I appreciate her though.
“Thank you aunty, I will keep that in mind.”
She squashes me in a hug, “Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
I tell her not to walk me out, I hate goodbyes.

…><…

This could be paranoia or I really am being tailed, a white

Cressida has been driving behind me for the past ten minutes.
I have to tell someone just in case I’m kidnapped or run over,
the first number that appears on my call log is Khothama’s.
He answers at first ring, “Khethi.”
“There’s a car following me, I don’t know what to do.”
“Is there a garage nearby? Go to the garage and wait for me
there.” This one is quick to thinking.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“I’m in your house, Ntaba told me to come wait for you here.”
That’s something weird to say.
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“He knows that I’m coming home?” I ask.
You never know with these Khanyiles.
I drive faster than I should while praying that I don’t crash
and die.
“Do you see a garage Khethi?” Khothama.
He’s decided to ignore my question, I will bombard him with
them when I get home.
“Not yet,” I say.
“Don’t panic, or they will see and make a move.” Now he’s
scaring me. “Do one thing, slow down. The car will drive
past, when it does, make sure you find the nearest garage. I’ll
stay on the line, don’t be afraid.”
Haibo! Who said I’m afraid? Okay maybe I am. I follow
Khothama’s instructions, the car drives past. A woman is
behind the wheel, her passenger is a man. They don’t even
look at me, I feel like an idiot.
“I was paranoid for nothing, they drove past. It was a man and
a woman.”
Khothama does not respond.
“Are you there?” I ask.
“Yes, have you found the garage?” If he says garage one more
time I will snap. He’s not letting this go.
“Not yet, I’ll be fine Khothama.”
“I’ll feel better if I come get you, I’ll Uber there then we’ll
drive back together.” He says.
I feel a lot better with him on the phone, although it was all
my imagination.

…><…

I’m home, cold, horny, and hungry. I need food but mostly
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my husband.
“When is he coming home?” I ask Khothama as he closes the
front door.
“Tomorrow.”
Eish! Tomorrow is far. I want to see him now.
‘What’s wrong now? Why are you crying?” He looks
terrified.
“I’m not crying.” I am crying, I want Ntaba. “Please call him,
I want to hear his voice.”
Khothama has never looked so confused, I don’t understand
why. I only want my husband, I just asked for my husband,
not Mars.
I drop my fat ass on the couch and tear up.
“kh… Khethiwe, what happened?” He’s stuttering.
“I’m hungry, cold and horny and Ntaba is eating Somizi’s
food and laughing at his lame jokes. He never laughs at my
jokes, am I not funny?”
He’s blinking like a Kardashian, “Wena Trevor Noah,
bathathe Celeste Ntuli. In fact, you are funnier than all of
them combined.”
If that’s the case, then why is he blinking like that? I know
him when he’s lying, he squints his eyes too.
“I am, right?” I show him my fakest smile, his eyebrows
furrow. He’s looking at me like I’ve lost my marbles.
“Call your brother then and tell him to stop eating, he’s never
complimented my food but has the audacity to eat other
people’s food.”
Ntaba is going to get it from me when he gets home.
“Okay, I’ll call Ntaba and tell him to come home. You remain
seated, okay?”
He switches on the heater, runs to the kitchen and comes back
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with bread, jam and juice. He looks at me, places his hands on
his hips and sighs.
“Food—Check. Heater—Check. You can watch porn on X
videos or porn hub, choose a treat. That will sort out your
horny problem. In the meantime, I’ll get Ntaba.” He says.
“What?”
“You said you’re hungry, cold and horny. So I have solved
your problem, I just need to bring Ntaba home now. Stay put,
your husband will be home before morning. I’ll ask him to
bring a skaftin, more food for you and the baby.” He says and
hurries out.
What the hell just happened? I don’t want Somizi’s food, I
want Ntaba to stop eating his food and come home. I haven’t
seen him in months.

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 Chapter 22
***
Ntabezikude

Of all the Khanyile brothers, he’s portrayed strength and

audacity. Never in his life did he think he’d be able to live
without his wife.
Months later and he’s still alive, very much alive. He has no
idea how he managed every day without her, maybe baby
Zamo had everything to do with it, or his unborn son.
Also the hope that Khethiwe will come back one day, she
never filed for divorce nor mention it to him and that gave
him hope.
He’s taken months too long to do what she asked, apologise
and mean it.
What the hell did she mean by that? He is sorry and he wants
her back.
He last spoke to Khothama three hours ago, he mentioned
something about his wife losing her mind and how he’s never
going back into that house.
He arrives twenty minutes after midnight, Khethiwe is in bed,
their bed. For a while he stands over the bed and stares at her,
it feels surreal that she’s here, in his bed.

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“KaMadonsela,” he shakes her awake.
“Mmmh!” Is her muffled response.
He kisses her cheek before going down to her exposed chest,
her boobs have doubled. He loves it.
“KaMadonsela.” He kisses her lips a couple of times, this gets
her moving.
Her eyes flick open, they meet his. He winks and smiles.
“You’re home?” She’s rubbing her eyes, Ntaba nods.
“You’re home.” He repeats her words, his eyes are red-
rimmed.
Khethiwe gets him, she’s been gone for too long.
“I don’t want to fight anymore,” she tells him, as she brings
her body to a sitting position.
“Me too.” Ntaba replies, gently running his hands on her
arms. Khethiwe moves her face close to his.
Her eyes are fixed on his and he knows what she wants. He
wants the same thing, he’s been waiting for it for months.
Ntaba snakes an arm around her waist and buries his face on
the curve of her neck. As he places kisses there, Khethiwe
holds him back and melts into his touch.
“I’m sorry, KaMadonsela.” He’s sorry for letting her go when
he should have tried to fix things.
“I am sorry too for staying away for too long.” Khethiwe. “I
missed you, Ntaba. I couldn’t sleep at all.” Lies, most days
she slept like a baby.
Ntaba is staring, he takes one of her braids and fiddles with it.
One thing about these two is that they take off from where
they left off as if nothing ever happened.
“I’ll never leave you again, no matter how stubborn you are.”
He says and she laughs, this is not The Bold and The
Beautiful.
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“Did you eat?” He better think hard about this one.
“I only eat the food my wife prepares.” Argh! Good answer.
“I’m famished.” He adds, and that alone is enough to put a
smile on her face. God knows she loves this man more than
she could ever fathom.
“I want to shower first.” Ntaba finishes, smelling his armpits
with a goofy smile.
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you go around entering
kitchens you don’t know.” She’s on about the show he was
on, a frown hovers over his face. Khethiwe is causing
confusion, Ntaba quickly finds his way back.
“You watched it?” As if he doesn’t know.
“Yes and you were flirting with him.” Such a baseless
statement.
Ntaba laughs, knowing how women can be.
“He had food Peaches, it was all for the food. You know I
only have eyes for you.”
“I thought you said you didn’t eat.” She narrows her eyes,
judging his existence.
Ntaba blinks a couple of times, “I guess my flirting skills are
rusty now. I will do better next time and bring you some as
well”
Khethiwe smiles widely, “Mmhh, I’d like that.”
“How are you?” A random question from him. “How is the
baby?”
“The baby is fine, we have an appointment with the doctor
tomorrow at 2pm. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him, I have
been selfish. ”
Regret is laced in her voice.
Ntaba’s hand glides down to the baby bump, “He’s been in
there for 8 months. He’s growing.”
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Khethiwe nods, she’d say something but the lump on her
throat is stopping her from uttering a word.
“He turned 8 months a few days ago.” She tells him.
Ntaba nods and kisses her belly, “You don’t know how
worried I’ve been, please let’s never fight like that again. It’s
not about us anymore, we need to be responsible. No matter
what, we need to put the kid first.” The kid? As the father,
he’s granted the right to call him “the kid.”
“I’m not promising that we won’t quarrel because we are not
perfect. I respect you KaMadonsela and you know that. I’m
sorry for letting my anger get the best of me, I just hate
feeling like I’m losing you. It scares me and I panic, please
forgive me Peaches.”
He is not about to let his wife go, she and the baby are
everything to him and his intentions are to protect them.
“There is nothing to forgive, we are partners. We’re in this
together. Ntaba, we feed off of each other and one can’t
survive without the other. I promise to hold your hand in this
journey, every step of the way. I promise to trust you and let
you lead me.”
He takes her hand and kisses her palm, “I will lead you
KaMadonsela, but you will always be beside me, not behind.
No matter what happens, I will never let you fall behind.”
Tears!
This is what happens when women are happy. Ntaba puts his
arms around her for a brief hug.
“So, let’s talk about you taking a bath.” Khethiwe. “Your
armpits are on strike, they need water.”
He laughs before helping her off bed, “You’re showering with
me. I miss seeing you naked.”
“I’m a balloon now Ntaba, you might not like what you see.”
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That sounds like self-pity.
Ntaba frowns, “I love balloons.”
That came from a good place, but Khethiwe is hurt. She yanks
her hand from him and stops her feet from moving.
“And then?” Confusion.
“You called me fat.” She tears up.
A sigh leaves Ntaba’s curled lips, “I didn’t, I only said…”
The look on her face clogs his next words, she’s ready to
throw anything at him.
How on earth does one converse with a pregnant women?
“You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and I love
every inch of you.”
This should work, he adds a touch to her waist.
Why are there more tears?
“Ntaba!” Khethiwe whines.
“What did I do now?”
“You’re measuring me, is it because I’m fat?” The ugly cry
comes to play, Ntaba looks more confused than ever.
“I don’t know anymore.” He rushes into the bathroom and
jumps into a cold shower with his clothes on.
This can’t be happening to him, it’s going to be a long month.

…><…

“Ngwane!” A clam Khethiwe calls. The shower must have

done wonders, they are preparing for bed now.
Thinking he’s unknowingly done something wrong, his heart
jumps to his throat. It eases a little when he sees the glow on
her face, one he’s never seen before.

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She’s wearing a white night gown, unbuttoned, her big belly
is exposed.
“What happened?” He’s scowling in suspense.
“The baby just kicked.” Khethiwe is over the moon.
Joyous laughter erupts into the room when Ntaba runs to her
side and places his palm on her belly. His hand is warm, he
feels the baby kick the moment he touches her. His face lights
up, tears come.
“He likes you.” she tells him, rubbing his head.
“And daddy loves you little one.” He’s kissing the baby
bump. This one has fallen in love, it’s written all over his
face.
“It’s amazing, how love can become a living thing. This is our
love in human form, it’s you and me, our baby.” His voice is
kept low, his face covered with tears.
Khethiwe nods, she too is fighting her own flood of tears.
“You’re going to be a good father to him, you’re already
doing a great job with Zamangwane.”
Baby Zamo was once a sensitive topic, bringing her up can’t
be easy for her.
“I am proud of you, the man you have become and everything
you’ve accomplished.”
Feeling emotional, Ntaba buries his face on her thighs. When
he looks up, there are more tears in his eyes. He sits on the
bed beside her and takes her hands.
“Ngiyaz’bongela KaMadonsela, nami ngiyaziqhenya ngawe.”
(Thank you, I’m also proud of you.)
It’s the first time hearing such words from him.
“You are strong, brave and courageous, I have seen you
conquer the biggest giants and come out stronger in every
trial. Ngiyazifela ngawe KaMadonsela.” (I admire you.)
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Left speechless, Khethiwe throws herself in his arms.
“I love you Ntaba.”
“Uyathandwa KaMadonsela, ungakhohlwa njaalo.” (I love
you, don’t ever forget that)
He kisses the side of her neck, the kiss escalates to her
forehead. Their eyes lock, he presses his forehead against hers
before kissing her once again.

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 Chapter 23
***
Khethiwe

Walking has never been more difficult than it is now, I swear

I am being punished for opening my legs for a Khanyile giant.
I can’t walk without the support of the next person or a wall
otherwise I get tired easily.
It’s been two weeks since I moved back home, I love life with
my husband. Zamo visits on weekends when Ntaba is around,
he travels a lot. He’s taking work seriously, I love the growth.
I can’t say my relationship with Zamo is blooming, but
something is happening. She is a sweet little girl, her giggles
melt my heart.
I’m still trying to learn that she is not Thethelela, but an
innocent child who’s in dire need of parents.
I quit the job, Funo and I are planning on opening a boutique.
He has a whole business plan, I just have to bring in funds and
we’ll be good to go.
Life alone in this house has made me realise that I do not want
to be a housewife, as soon as the baby is independent, I will

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start work.
He’s growing, that means I’m growing as well. Sometimes it
scares me that I will struggle to lose the baby weight, we are
big boned in my family and that adds to my stress.
I don’t want to live on carrots my whole life, food is precious.
Irritation tickles my skin at the sound of the doorbell, we need
to get a butler. These up and downs will force me into an early
labour. I grunt, wince, cuss and sulk as I stand to get the door.
It’s midday, who visits at this time of the day? Argh!
“How did you get in here?”
Never did I think I would live to see this day, I haven’t seen
my mother in over a year. Beside her is Ndimande, so it’s
true, she went and married my father’s best friend.
“Are you going to let us in?” She asks as if I called them over.
Ntaba is not going to be happy about this, he wants nothing to
do with this woman. Both of them actually.
“They are toxic.” He’d say.
Its’ good that he’s at work. We’re trapped in awkward silence
as I usher them inside the house till we settle down.
“You’re pregnant?” My mother says, it’s more of an
observation than a question.
I don’t answer her, it’s clear that I am pregnant.
She has changed, lost so much weight. I don’t know what to
make of her hallow eyes and the sunken cheeks, she looks
overly sick.
The head wrap is new to me, she never wore them when dad
was alive.
Seeing them together is making me uncomfortable. I’m not
used to seeing my mother with anyone but my father.
“How did you find this place?” I had to say something, time

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isn’t passing with this silence.
Does it matter?” Yep, she hasn’t changed alright.
I’d roll my eyes but my mother won’t have that.
“So this is where you live?” She’s carefully inspecting every
corner of my house.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Nice, you really hit the jackpot with this one.”
That’s what her small brain just delivered to her mouth,
Ndimande has not said anything. I’ve never liked him.
“Can I get you anything?” I’m in need of a break, a breather.
Leaving for the kitchen will give me just that.
“Cognac.” Ndimande finds his voice.
“We don’t have any,” how uncomfortable can this get? “I can
offer you tea, juice or cold drink.”
He must not think this is a tavern. His eyes widen with shock,
before he’s exchanging gazes with my mother.
“That’s okay Khethi, we actually came to invite you out for
lunch. Lethiwe will be joining us, unfortunately, Phathiwe
still wants nothing to do with me. So much time has passed, I
miss you. I’m your mother, but I’ve wronged all of you,
especially you. I blamed you for your father’s death and cut
ties with my only daughter. I’m not getting younger sisi, I
want to call it truce before my time in this world expires.” She
says, sadness evident in her eyes.
I don’t know what to say, she’s caught me off guard. We’ve
been estranged from each other but she’s still my mother, I
have questions for her, questions only she has answers to.
“Are you dying?” I ask, her eyes widen.
It’s the way she spoke that has me questioning her time in this
world, I know this woman. She is a leopard, her spots never
change.
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Her eyes are on the floor, making me wonder if I have hit
bull’s eyes.
“You’re dying aren’t you? That’s why you want to make
things right with your children?”
They look at each other before she’s shedding a fountain of
tears, it’s a weird moment for me. I have never seen this
woman cry.
“The doctor said it’s leukemia, I have two months to live.”
Argh shame!
“I’m sorry,” honestly, I don’t know if I am sorry.
The only reason I agree to lunch is because I want to see my
brother, I can’t bring myself to worry about my mother no
matter how much I try.
I have been trying to get a hold of Ntaba, his phone rings
unanswered. He must be in a meeting, I’m proud of how
much he’s grown. He is responsible and a hard worker.
*My mother is here with her husband, the rumours are true
that she married Ndimande. We’re going out for lunch,
please call me when you get this. Love you.*
I send the text before joining the visitors in the living room.

…><…
We’re five minutes in Ndimande’s car, heading to a local
restaurant when my phone rings. I have to take the call or he
will worry.
“KaMadonsela, where are you going?” He attacks me with a
question before I could send my greeting.
“Didn’t you get my text?” I ask.
“I did and I don’t like this one bit. You can’t trust those

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people Khethiwe. Why are they here now? Why now?”
It’s so like him to be guarded and overprotective and I hate to
admit that his intuition is always on point. I’d hate for my
mother to betray me.
“I will tell you everything when I get home, I promise I won’t
be long.” I‘d tell him about my mother’s condition if
gossiping about someone in their presence was allowed.
“Khethiwe, tell whoever is driving to turn around and take
you home now.” Yoh Ntaba!
“Ngwane you can’t be serious.” I argue because it’s crazy.
“I’m serious Khethiwe, tell them to take you back home.” He
says.
Is it because I’m pregnant? It must be because I’m pregnant,
that’s why he’s talking to me like I’m his child.
I go quiet, he’s stressing me and when I stress the baby
stresses.
“Peaches listen to me,” he sighs. “When you get to the
restaurant, I want you to go to the restrooms and lock yourself
in one of the cubicles. Then send me the location and I will
come and get you.”
He’s starting to scare, am I blinded by the fact that this
woman is my mother? Ntaba has never been wrong.
I steal a glance before me, my mother’s looking out the
window and Ndimande is focused on the road. Nothing feels
or appears out of character, why does Ntaba have to be this
person?
“Promise me, Peaches.” He pulls me out of my musing with a
snap.
“I will,” like I have a choice.
“Take care of yourself and the baby.”
If he carries on like this, I might tell Ndimande to turn the car
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around. I’m suddenly uncomfortable, Ntaba has managed to
plant doubt and fear in my head.
“That was my husband on the phone, there’s a family
emergency. Please take me back.” I’m lying but they don’t
know that.
“What happened?” My mother asks, genuinely sounding
worried.
“His brother’s dog died,” shit!
I couldn’t think of a better lie fast enough, I can’t take this one
back. They will know I’m lying.
“A dog?” She sounds shocked.
“Yes ma, he’s been with the family for many years. He was
like one of the family, Ntaba is not taking it well. Please make
a U-turn.”
“Ndimande let’s go back,” my mother understands. Great.
Ndimande is not saying anything, nor is he turning. Has he
suddenly gone deaf?
“Bhuti, did you hear what I said?” I’m starting to freak out,
he’s strangely too quiet.
“We are not going back,” he uses a deadpan tone.
This man must not get on my nerves, I’m 8 months pregnant.
My hormones are crazy at this stage.
“Ma, what does he mean?”
She looks over at him, a frown plastered on her face.
“Ndimande, didn’t you hear the child? Turn the car back
around.” She’s snapping at him.
He increases speed.
Lawd! Ntaba was right, I have to call him. As I place the
phone against my ear, the car hurtles to the side, the phone
slips from my hand.
“What the hell, Ndimande?” My mother screams. “Are you
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trying to kill us?”
She sounds petrified, I see Ndimande glaring at me through
the rear view mirror.
“No one is going anywhere,” he says dismissively.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
I think I know what’s going on.
“Was this your plan, ma? You came to my house with the
intent to kidnap me? The cancer, and you wanting to make
things right was all a lie?”
I can’t say I’m hurt, I’m disappointed in myself. I should’ve
known better.
She turns to look at me, “No Khethiwe, what I told you is the
truth. I don’t know what’s going on. Why Ndimande has
suddenly changed.”
Tears fall down her cheeks, I don’t believe a word she said.
When she turns back around, I reach for my phone but
Ndimande shakes the car once again.
“Touch that phone and you won’t like what I do next.” He’s
threatening me.
“What the hell do you want from me?” I yell.
He laughs, it’s sadistic and spine-chilling.
“Patience baby girl, patience.”
I don’t like his tone.
“Ndimande, take the child back home. What are you doing?”
My mother’s voice is shaky, the fear in her eyes is palpable.
“Shut the fuck up, your voice is so annoying.”
I didn’t expect him to burst out like that, my mother is just as
startled.
“I have waited for this chance my whole life, you are not
going to ruin it for me, do you hear me?” Ndimande.
“What are you talking about?” She asks.
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I want to know the same thing.
“All you had to do was hand Khethiwe over to me, simple.
But no, you and that fool you called a husband failed.”
What the hell is this man talking about?
“What?” Her.
“The lobola we paid was for me, not Bahle. I had to take
matters into my own hands seeing how dumb you and your
husband were. He promised me his daughter, and failed to
deliver. I couldn’t allow that, Khethiwe belongs to me, she’s
mine.”
“I don’t belong to you, you stupid fool.” I yell.
I swear I’m going to give birth prematurely if he does not let
me out of this car.
“Your father didn’t pay back my money, so that means you
are still my wife. I orchestrated everything, we were supposed
to take you home after lobola negotiations. I was going to kill
Bahle and take you to Limpopo. I bought us a house there,
you’re going to love it.”
He’s talking in bulk, but I don’t want to argue with him
anymore. This man is crazy, I’m not going to entertain him.
My mother is in tears, argh! I don’t have time for that. I need
to think of a way out before this man takes me to Limpopo.
I’m not ready to start speaking Pedi.
My eyes land on my phone, I notice there’s an ongoing call.
Ntaba had answered when I called, it must’ve been when the
phone slipped out of my hands. I can only hope he heard
everything.
I look around for clues, to give Ntaba. Just when my eyes
wander around, my mother grabs the steering wheel.
“Stop the damn car, Ndimande.” She yells.
With his big built, Ndimande is able to push her back. But my
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mother grabs the steering wheel again, while they are at war, I
grab my phone and press it against my ear.
“Ntaba,” I whisper. I’m trying not to panic for the sake of the
baby.
“Peaches, are you okay? What’s going on there?”
Thank God he’s on the line.
“Ndimande has lost his mind, he says he’s taking me to
Limpopo. We’re on the highway, I haven’t seen any boards
yet.” I look around for clues but then a gun goes off before
silence takes over.
My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, Ndimande has a gun
pressed on my mother’s side. She’s wheezing like a wounded
animal, there’s blood everywhere.
“Khethiwe, Khethiwe talk to me.” Ntaba is panicking, he
never panics.
“He just shot my mother,” I say in between short breaths.
“What about you? Tell me you’re okay, Khethiwe.” He
sounds agitated.
“I’m fine,” I put my husband at ease.
Ndimande parks on the side of the road, he points the gun at
me.
“Drop that call or you’re next.” He growls, the sound of the
gun cocking startles me.
“Put me on speaker KaMadonsela,” that’s Ntaba.
He’s angry.
I do as he says, he always has a plan. I trust him.
“You better run Ndimande and make sure I don’t catch you.”
My husband says.
I am baffled, I thought he’d demand him to send me back
home. What if Ndimande really runs away with me?
Ndimande’s crazed eyes turn to me, he smirks, grabs my
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phone and tosses it out the window.
Without a single word, he drives.

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 Chapter 24
***
Ntabezikude

“Why would you call the police?” He hates the police with
passion, even more so now that they are in his house.
Banami snorts at his question, or the glare he’s giving her
rather.
“We couldn’t just sit and do nothing, Khethiwe has been
taken.” That’s her response.
Ntaba leers at Ndleleni, he needs to put his woman in her
place. It won’t be nice if he does the honours. Ndleleni gets
the message, he takes Banami’s hand and ushers her out of the
lounge. It’s been six hours since Khethiwe has been
kidnapped, Ntaba is losing his mind not knowing where his
wife is.
Khethiwe mentioned Limpopo, but that could send them on a
wild goose-chase.
He’s sent men to turn every stone in the province, none of
them have come back with a solid lead. The only thing they
managed was to track Khethiwe’s phone, the tracker led them
to the highway.
“Ntaba!” Khothama walks in, he’s not alone. Muphumuzi and
Alfred are with him. He tells them to follow him to the
kitchen where they find Funokuhle and Nala at task. One look

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from him and they know this is their cue to exit.
“We have something, word on the street says Ndimande was
seen rubbing shoulders with Mlondi.” Alfred delivers.
Not once did Ntaba think Ndimande would team up with
Mlondi.
“Dammit, Mlondi will kill her.” It’s his biggest fear.
One thing about Mlondi is that he inflicts pain as a form of
punishment, something he has in common with Ntaba.
“What kind of deal could he have with Ndimande? We know
that Ndimande is an obsessed fuck, what will Mlondi gain by
helping him?”
Khothama is struggling in confusion.
Before he answers, Ntaba turns to the direction of the
passageway just to check if there are no cops in sight.
“Mlondi wants to break me, Khethiwe is the perfect candidate
for that. That bastard will make it hurt bad. We have to find
them, I’m not going to lose my wife and kid.” Ntaba.
He’s heading back to the crowded lounge, Zakhe is here.
Ntaba gestures that he meets him halfway.
“I’m going out, get these people out of my house.” He
mutters.
Zakhe’s eyes narrow in confusion, then he remembers who
he’s talking to. The man with a plan.
“Just do me a favour,” Zakhe starts, placing a hand on Ntaba’s
shoulder. “Don’t get yourself killed.”
“I’m coming with,” Ndleleni says.
He just walked into the room but he’s caught on.
A nod from Ntaba before he exits the house, along with
Khothama and Alfred.

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 Khethiwe

I don’t know where we are, Ndimande blindfolded me after he

pushed my mother out from a moving car. I have no idea how
long it’s been, neither do I know if she is okay.
The blindfold was removed after we entered this flat, BnB, or
motel. I don’t know what it is, it looks cheap though.
He’s locked me in one of the bedrooms, there is proper
bedding. A small inch television and a two-door wardrobe.
I haven’t eaten nor drank anything, I don’t know if my baby is
okay.
I think Ndimande is back, I stand at the sound of the key
twisting. With my heavy-self, it will be hard for me to attack
him and run out the door.
He’s carrying a KFC package, the smell instantly harasses my
nose. My baby hates the smell, I cover my nose and try to
push the bile back down.
“Take that away.” I exclaim, pushing my heavy and fatigued
body down on the bed. My discomfort brings a frown to his
face, he smiles and drops the package on the table.
“Do you know who my husband is? He will find me, I hope
your funeral policy is up to date.” Ntaba finding me is the
only thing keeping me alive right now and giving my baby
life.
Ndimande laughs heartily!
“That little boy does not scare me, besides, I covered my
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tracks pretty well.” He winks.
I have no clue what’s going through his mind, or what he’s
going to do to me.
I hate how his eyes are fixated on me, if he tries anything I
will not go down without a fight.
“We are going to be happy together Khethiwe, I will treat you
so good.” He’s crazy.
“You’re dumb if you think that I am going to live with you,
this stupid plan of yours is going to backfire. My husband
will…”
I seem to upset him, his eyebrows form a frown before he’s
cutting me off.
“My husband… my husband.” He throws his hands up,
seemingly frustrated. “Shut up, shut the fuck up Khethiwe. Do
you know how much I hate that man? I almost had you but he
took you right on the palm of my hand, he’s fucking lucky I
haven’t killed him.”
“You shut up,” I fire back, my heart wrenching in my ribcage.
“How dare you speak of killing my husband? I will kill you
first before you get your dirty hands on him.”
He smiles, the fool is not taking me seriously.
“You are cute, but fierce. I like that.” He replies widening his
ugly smile.
“Let me go Ndimande, you’ll be doing yourself a favour.
Ntaba is going to kill you, you heard what he said over the
phone. My husband does not make empty threats.”
“Baby, you have been in my care for the past seven hours. If
that little boy is as good as you give him credit, you would’ve
been home hours ago.”
What if he’s right? What if Ntaba is having trouble finding
me?
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“How about you do yourself a favour, get comfortable. You
are not going anywhere, not after I have executed this perfect
plan. I’m such a genius, none of you saw me coming.
Especially that stupid husband of yours, bloody idiot thinks
he’s God.”
He pats himself on the back.
“Bahle and his mother were part of my game plan, they didn’t
know what I was up to.”
Like I care, frankly, I’m getting bored. I want to go home.
“That’s enough.” A voice says from the door.
Ndimande peers over his shoulders, to the man in a suit. I
recognise him instantly, he was at the Khanyile wedding. He’s
the man Ntaba was so bent on hiding me from.
“Give us a minute,” he says to Ndimande, yet his empty eyes
are on me.
I don’t like the look on his face.
“Why?” Ndimande.
I’m starting to think this man is a robot, he has not blinked.
Scrutinising me under his gaze.
“Khethiwe is with me now, your job is done. You may leave.”
Ndimande tells him.
The man clenches his jaw, I’m still trying to process what he
might possibly want from me when he pulls out a gun and
puts a bullet through Ndimande’s head. Blood splatters
everywhere before he falls like a bag of potatoes.
He killed Ndimande.
“Now where were we?” He speaks, kindly.
I’m in utter shock, my heart is swimming in my stomach and
my head is spinning. What is going on?
“Ngwane has always had an eye for beautiful women,” he
brushes my cheek with the gun barrel.
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I want to say something, but I have no idea what.
My mind goes completely blank when a sharp pain pierces my
cheek. It takes my brain a minute too long and my body
crashing on the floor to register that I have been struck with a
gun barrel.
I’m light-headed for a while, unable to think or say a word.
My entire being is in a whirlwind, when he shoves a foot on
my side. The impact knocks my breath out of my lungs, the
excruciating pain has me screaming in agony.
“My baby,” I cry.
He’s the first to enter my thought.
A taste of metal fills my mouth, I’m bleeding.
“I’m pregnant, don’t hurt me please. I don’t want my baby to
die.”
I muster up the courage to look him in the face, his eyes are a
boundless ditch. Yet nothing on him says danger, matter of
fact, he has the expression of a saint right now. It must be the
calm smile on his features.
“It’s okay, don’t cry. I promise to make it quick.” He delivers
and it registers that he’s going to kill me.
My baby. The urge to give my son life strengthens me, it’s not
enough to get me to my feet. I drag my body towards the foot
of the bed, away from the stranger.
He tilts his head and his face twists into a frown, “the faster
we get this done, the less painful this will be for you.”
“Why are you doing this? Who are you?” My own voice is
failing me, the words following in their footsteps.
He brings the smile back.
“Your husband knows me, we go way back. This is not about
you, don’t worry.” He says.
“Then let me go.” I plead, I’m such a weakling.
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“Sorry, but I owe a friend a dead body. Finding Ntabezikude’s
weakness was like hitting the jackpot, I’m not going to blow
this one. I want him to live with the guilt of your death for the
rest of his miserable life.”
I’m not winning here, after all that talking I did.
“What about my baby? He’s just a baby, don’t kill me
please.”
That kick he gave me is doing a number on me, the pain is
horrendous. It feels like death. I think that’s why my vision is
conceding.
He doesn’t say anything, but pulls out a knife. I’m thinking
the worst when he starts to approach me, I scream as he grabs
my top viciously and starts to cut it open. My upper body is
exposed.
“No, stop. Stop… please.” I scream in terror.
He doesn’t stop, he is roughly manhandling me until the shirt
is in pieces. When that’s done, he grabs my neck and lifts me
up, our eyes meet. I see anger and unfathomable hate in his
eyes.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, this has nothing to do with you. I’m
merely settling a score.” His voice is dark and eerie.
He sends me back down with another slap, I want to continue
pleading for help but words fail me.
“Now, let’s cut off the rest of your clothes. Ntabezikude can’t
be the only one to see you naked.” He laughs.
“My baby. Don’t kill my baby.” I curl into a foetal position,
it’s the only thing my useless body can do. I know it’s no use,
this man is stronger than I am and he is going to take
advantage of me then kill me. As he squats with the knife in
hand, my arms wrap around my baby bump, I want to protect
my baby. All I need is just one more month, that’s all I need
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to bring him into this world.
I pray that he knows I love him. I loved him before he was
born.

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 Chapter 25
***
Ntabezikude

His heartbeat is resembling an ancestral drumbeat as he bursts

into the bedroom, he freezes in the doorway, afraid to
penetrate the threshold.
Never did he think he would find his wife naked, bruised and
unconscious.
Khothama comes running and almost bumps into him, the
sight before him pauses his movements. Unlike Ntaba, his
brain is still working. He grabs a blanket and covers her naked
body.
“Is she… is she dead?” Khothama’s question shakes Ntaba
awake.
“Khethiwe!” He hurries to her and the first thing he does is
feel her pulse.
Nothing!
Panic takes over!
“No, no. Peaches you can’t do this to me.” He starts to
perform CPR, hoping for a miracle. “Come on Peaches, open
your eyes.”
He’s trying not to panic but his heart is engulfed by
overwhelming pain.
“Try again, ndoda.” Khothama’s voice has become

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background noise, he hears him but he doesn’t hear him.
His hands are trembling somehow, he can feel his heart
pumping in his throat. This has to be a dream, it’s the only
explanation; such pain can’t be real.
Ntaba is relentless with the CPR, the mission here is to get
Khethiwe to wake up.
Teeth grinding, his breathing picking up per second, Ntaba
pumps her chest, and fills her lungs with the breath of his
lungs.
Nothing is happening, he’s not getting through to her.
“Ntaba,” Khothama taps his shoulder. “She’s gone, ndoda.”
He delivers the earth shattering news, Ntaba can’t accept it.
This can’t be it, she can’t be dead.
“No, she’s not dead. Khethiwe would never leave me.” Ntaba
argues and continues performing CPR, his chest is getting
tighter. He’s almost convinced something is sitting on it.
“She’s gone Ntaba, you’re crushing her lungs.” Khothama has
been subjected to tears, it’s a wakeup call to Ntaba. It’s over,
his heart though refuses to believe it.
“Don’t say that Khothama, Khethiwe wouldn’t dare leave me.
She promised and you know how innocent she is, she would
never lie to me. My Peaches never lies.” He holds her in his
arms, there’s an urge to caress her bruised face but he’s afraid
he might hurt her.
“I’m going to kill him, I swear I’m going to kill that bastard.”
He hears Khothama’s oath said in between sniffs and sobs.
He wants the same, but first, he needs to make sure Khethiwe
is alright. He presses two fingers on her pulse point, there’s
nothing. He’s not a doctor, that’s the only thing that puts his
mind and heart at ease for just a fraction.
“It’s been too long, she should be awake by now.”
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His cousin talks too much sometimes, but he’s right.
“Our baby, ndoda. KaMadonsela is pregnant.” He chokes a
sob, tears pour down his face. “Won’t she give him a chance
to be born, at least?”
This is the last straw, Khothama crumbles to the ground.
Everyone had been anticipating the birth of baby Khanyile,
the news of their death is going to destroy the family.
Suddenly, there’s a loud commotion. Khothama shoots up to
his feet and that’s because he is always alert. He exchanges a
glance with Ntaba.
“I’ll go check it out,” he says.
He has barely made it out the bedroom door when a white
policeman in uniform appears with a gun aimed at them.
Eyes wide, Khothama steps back, more officers materialise
and the brothers immediately know that they have been set up.
“Hands up, and move away from the body.” One of them
demands, his thick Afrikaaner accent echoing in the room.
Khothama dives on the floor and falls on his stomach, he’s not
about to die for something he doesn’t know.
“Move away from the body now.” He’s talking to Ntaba, but
no way is he letting go of Khethiwe.
Ntaba shifts his gaze to his cousin, an officer is handcuffing
him. He takes note of the fear in Khothama’s eyes, prison is
not for him. He won’t survive there.
“Step away from the body and put your hands up.”
This officer is starting to sound like a broken record and
crawling under Ntaba’s skin.
“She’s my wife, not a body.” Ntaba roars, pressing his arms
around her.
These people have no respect, he despises every single one of

231
them. The police don’t care about him nor his feelings, this is
a crime scene. They need to do their job, take him to jail like
they have just taken Khothama.
Ntaba is tackled down by a chubby officer, it angers him
because he was holding his wife in his arms.
“You don’t understand, she’s my wife.” He yells.
He’s resisting arrest and that has more officers on top of him,
they overpower him, cuff him and take him out screaming for
Khethiwe.

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 Ndleleni

A black man found at a crime scene is always the first

suspect, he was there, watching everything from a distance.
He saw his brothers being dragged into police vans, he saw
Khethiwe wheeled on a stretcher and put into an ambulance.
He didn’t know what the situation was like, but it crossed his
mind that his brothers were set up.
Before Ntaba went into that motel, he had instructed Ndleleni
to call an ambulance, just in case Khethiwe needed medical
attention.
The ambulance was called, he doesn’t know where the cops
came from.
He has sent word out to Muphumuzi to keep an eye out at taxi
ranks, the culprit is out there. They have to find him before
the police do.
“Ndleleni get me out of here, I have to be with my wife.”
Ntaba demands as soon as he walks into the visitor’s room.
He is not a lawyer but he knows people that know people.
“I’m on it ndoda, you won’t spend another second in this
place.” Ndleleni promises.
“How are they?” Ntaba asks.
On the way to the police station, one of the cops had
mentioned that she is alive. It was a crazy moment for Ntaba,
for a second his mind wrestled with his heart. He couldn’t
breathe for a while.
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“She’s in the operating theatre, I haven’t heard anything
further than that. Zakhe, Funo and Banami are with her. I have
informed Mathonga.” Ndleleni answers.
Ntaba’s exhalation is that of a troubled person, “What did that
motherfucker do to her?” He’s livid.
“Pumped her with drugs, I don’t have to explain the physical
bruises.” That doesn’t sound good, fear pools into Ntaba’s
eyes.
“Did he…” for the life of him, he can’t say it.
The thought of his wife being raped kills him, if it happens
that she was, he’s not sure what he will do. The extent he will
go to avenge her.
“No!” Ndleleni shakes his head. “He didn’t touch her in that
way.”
Ntaba’s eyes shut closed, his breathing quickens. His jaw
clenches, if he doesn’t get out of here, he will go crazy.
“Are you okay?”
“They touched my wife Ndleleni, my wife.” He barks,
slamming a hand against the table.
“Clam down Ntaba, we’re going to get them. Anger is not
good for you in this place.”
Maybe that’s true but Ntaba doesn’t care, this anger Ndleleni
speaks of has him by the balls. He needs to release.
“I’m going to kill them,” he growls.
“You cannot talk like that, not in here. You’ll get in trouble.”
Ndeleni mutters.
“Then get me the fuck out, my wife and kid need me. I don’t
even know how they are. Dammit, I don’t know if my baby is
going to live.” He’s shouting, Ndleleni is done stopping him.
“You won’t spend the night in this place, they have nothing
against you. I told you I’m on it. I need you to trust me on
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this. I spoke to Styles, he managed to hack into the motel’s
security system. He transferred everything to my laptop
before deleting the footage, that way, we will deal with
whoever is behind this.”
A frown passes Ntaba’s face, “It was Mlondi. How did I not
see him coming?”
“You wouldn’t have, not with the route he took. Who
would’ve thought he’d team up with Ndimande? After Mlondi
got what he wanted, he killed him. His body was found in the
bathroom where we found Khethiwe.” Ndleleni tells him.
“Please tell me that Ndimande’s death was gruesome.”
Ntaba scrubs his face, flashes of Khethiwe lying naked on the
floor keep coming to him. It angers him greatly. He’s heaving
and popping his knuckles.
“We’ll find him, don’t worry.” Ndleleni assures him. “How is
Khothama?”
“He’s terrified of prison, but he’ll be fine.” Ntaba says before
his mind starts to wander to thoughts of his wife and unborn
baby.

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 Chapter 26
***
Ntabezikude

His first kill had him feeling like he was on top of the world,
he’s never looked back since. He walks around as if he is
God, put himself on a high pedestal.
Ego isn’t his biggest asset, in fact it’s never defined him,
although people have crowned him with the word. He sees
himself as God, and that doesn’t sit well with his enemies. But
it’s who he is, he does whatever the hell he wants and no one
can tell him otherwise.
His wife and son have become victims of a deranged man
seeking revenge on him, just when he was about to become a
better person. Now he’s ready to blur the line between good
and evil.
Both mother and son are fighting for their lives in the hospital,
he hasn’t been able to visit them.
Like Ndleleni had said, there were no charges against him and
Khothama. They were released that same night.
He ambles out of his room dressed in all black and an Eff
barrette, Khothama and Ndleleni share a glance. They know
all hell is about to break loose when Ntaba puts on the hat.
“Today’s the day?” Khothama says and gets nothing from
Ntaba.
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This is the person he’s become since his wife’s terrible
nightmare a month ago, he speaks less and observes more.
“Where are you going?” Ndleleni asks.
He too gets no response, they follow him out. The GPS is
leading them to Amanzimtoti, his connections told him that’s
where he’ll find the man he’s looking for.
He’s speeding like a maniac, Ndleleni and Khothama have not
said a word.
It’s not long before they get to their destination.
“Isn’t this Alfred’s home?” Ndleleni asks, scanning the place
with furrowed brows above his narrowed eyes.
“What’s going on?” Khothama is also confused.
“The man I have trusted my whole life is housing my enemy.”
Ntaba replies.
He wasn’t asking Alfred to denounce his brother, but loyalty
would’ve been nice. For Alfred to hide Mlondi is one betrayal
he will never forgive.
No one replies to Ntaba’s state, they follow each other out the
car. In a second, they are breaking down Alfred’s door. He’s
alone, sitting on a couch and feasting on bread.
“Always bringing company to a two men fight.” Mlondi says,
giving Ntaba a single glance.
Ntaba is not affected, whether he brought company or not, he
knows he’s leaving this place victorious.
“This was about me and you. What the hell did my wife do to
you?”
He shouldn’t be talking to him.
There’s a knife in his pocket, he’s not a gun person.
Especially when the reason to kill is personal, slitting his
victim’s throat gives him up close access. He gets to watch

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them breathe their last while staring deep into their soul.
“Didn’t I tell you that I will come for what you hold dear?
Your wife and child were perfect.” Mlondi stands,
audaciously and haughty.
A gun goes off, Mlondi is on the floor in a flash. Ntaba looks
back and sees Ndleleni with a gun aimed at Mlondi, veins are
pumping on his neck and forehead. The man on the floor has
been shot on the knee.
“You son of a bitch!” Ndleleni roars. “I’m going to kill you.”
Ntaba knows Mlondi to be arrogant, he doesn’t expect him to
laugh out loud after being shot. The three brothers are
suddenly consumed by anger,
“Please don’t kill me, please…” He’s crying and pleading
with hands joined together.
Ntaba frowns, it can’t be what he thinks it is, Mlondi is too
proud and big-headed to apologise.
“Don’t kill me, I’m pregnant. I don’t want my baby to die,
please.” Mlondi continues and adds a mocking laugh.
Ntaba has realised that this man is mimicking Khethiwe, this
is how his wife must’ve pleaded with him to spare her life and
that of the baby.
“You should’ve seen her pleading for her life, your wife is a
weakling.” Mlondi laughs mockingly.
Perhaps the plan is to get Ntaba riled up, provoke him to do
his worst. He probably knows that there is no escape for him,
no matter how far he runs, Ntaba will find him and end his
story.
Ntaba throws a punch and another one, soon he’s lost control
and pounding the man groaning on the floor. Blood spews
from Mlondi’s mouth every time he receives a blow. When

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the man is helpless and coughing blood, Ntaba pulls the knife.
“Don’t be so worried ntwana, I’m only settling a score.” The
giant says, looking at him square in the face.
Mlondi seems to know what’s coming next, his face is
arrogant as he lifts his neck as if offering it to his enemies.
“Just end it once and for all because I will never stop coming
for you Ngwane.” He asks for it.
Ntaba presses a kiss to his forehead then slashes the knife
across his neck, he’s aware of the blood splattering
everywhere, some he gets into his mouth but he doesn’t move
an inch. The son of a bitch is still alive and Ntaba… well he
still has anger to release.
He grips Mlondi’s shoulder and plunges the knife into his
stomach, pulls it out soaked in blood and plunges it in again.
As if he’s lost all his humanity, his animal side takes over,
Ntaba stabs the man multiple times, he’s groaning, teeth
grinding and eyes wild.
It’s an overkill.
“What have you done?” A familiar voice roars from the door,
Alfred is back and it seems he’s a little too late.
Ntaba is unflinching.
He stands and wipes the thick beads of sweat off his forehead
with the back of his bloodstained hand.
“Ntabezikude!” Another roar from Alfred, willing Ntaba to
turn to him.
The giggling giant can’t give a shit, he lets out a shaky breath,
and stares down at the masterpiece with awe and twinkling
eyes.
Right before him, on the floor lies Mlondi Madi. His head is
tilted to the side, neck half-torn and limbs resembling a
puppet with no master.
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His mouth is slightly open, eyes wide as saucers and skin pale
as a sheet of paper. His torso is gruesomely ripped open, all
gushy organs seeping out.
A sadistic smile pulls at his lips, it must be because of the
smell of blood, or the dead man on the floor. He’s not sure,
either way, his heart is content.
“I told you to leave it to me, I was going to punish him. What
have you done?” Alfred sputters.
“Ntabezikude waits for no one.” He’s looking at a horrified
Alfred. For a moment it looks like he is going to cry, but he
blinks.
“A student is more knowledgeable than his teacher, let’s
pretend this never happened for old time’s sake.” Ntaba says.
Alfred catches the threat, he knows never to go against this
man. It’s true he trained him to be the man he is today and it’s
true that he does not have the guts to do half the gruesome
things Ntaba has done.
Perhaps it is time the giant retires and stops killing people.

…><…

After killing Mlondi, he went for cleansing to remove bad

luck, lest it affects the baby.
It has taken him two months to muster up the courage to visit
her, he needed time to build up his strength and restore his
spirit.
He’s been sitting quietly, waiting for Khethiwe to open her
eyes. He was told that she’s been asking for him since she
woke up yesterday, Ntaba was also desperate to see her.

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Now that he’s here, how will he explain what happened to her
and why he wasn’t there to protect her?
The only thing he has to cheer her up is news about the baby,
his life is out of danger. Doctors were able to drain the drugs
from his system. He’s about ready to go out when she opens
her eyes.
A ghost of a smile stretches her lips, she’s been waiting for
him.
“Hey,” she says.
She sounds strong and normal, he sees no signs of depression
or sorrow.
“Hey,” he sits back down. “I’ve been waiting for you, you
kept me waiting for too long.”
Two months to be precise.
There’s a lump in his throat, he clears it and drops his head.
Khethiwe cups his cheeks, she has seen his upcoming tears.
She gives him a slight nod when he looks back up.
“I’m fine,” she tells him.
Ntaba swallows his tears, “that means you can come home
then. You need to get better soon so I can take you home. You
look terrible.”
He’s trying to distract himself so he wouldn’t cry, Khethiwe
frowns.
“What?”
“Yes, you don’t look good, hospitals are not your thing. You
belong home with me and our son.” He says.
Worry plasters on her face, “Where is he? They wouldn’t let
me see my baby yesterday.
“He’s fine, nothing bad happened to him.” He assures her.
Khethiwe bursts into tears, while he’s on the verge of crying.
“How is he?” She asks, looking a little relaxed.
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“He’s healthy and looks like you,” that’s Ntaba’s reply.
Khethiwe shows him a smile, “I think it’s too early to tell who
he looks like.”
It is, new born babies look like aliens. There is silence
between them, Ntaba breaks it with a hefty sigh.
“What are we going to name him?” He asks.
He has a name in mind.
“You name him.”
“How about, Nqabile. He conquered death, he’s our miracle
baby.”
“Nqabile Khanyile.” She nods with a content smile. “I love it,
it’s a beautiful name.”
He knew she’d love it.
“I want to go home Ngwane, take us home.”
“I’ll take you home once you’re discharged, and that’s two
days from now. You and the baby still need medical care.”
There’s nothing he wants more than to take his family home.
It doesn’t take long for Khethiwe to fall back to sleep, she’s
healing. The bruises on her face will soon be a distant
memory.

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 Chapter 27
***
Khethiwe

To think two years ago I couldn’t stand to look at Thethelela’s

daughter, today, I look at her and can’t possibly imagine life
without her. She’s a happy child, bubbly and has a heart of
gold. I don’t know who to give credit for that, definitely not
her father and certainly not her mother. I hope she’s still
burning in hell.
I’m not a saint, if Thethelela were to stand in front of me
today, I’d find the nearest weapon I can get my hands on and
send her back to hell.
I don’t care about her religious history, in my head Satan is
roasting her clit.
I’d like to think I have grown as an individual, I have also
learnt that life is about second chances. Nobody is perfect, not
even the ones we expect perfection from. My husband is the
epitome of imperfection, but that doesn’t take away the fact
that I love him and he loves me.
The trials and tribulations I went through have formed me into
the woman I am today. To say we are happily married would
be taking it too far, we are alive.
There are good times and bad times, we’re doing life together
and that’s all that matters.
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My mother was buried when I was in the hospital, Lethiwe
told me all about it. It’s crazy how Ndimande played her, how
he played all of us.
I visit her grave sometimes, my father’s as well. I haven’t
heard from Bahle in two years.
Two years… I’m a mother to a two year-old baby boy, he’s so
deliciously beautiful and adorable. I’d like to say I see his
father in him, but nothing. His uncles say he’s more like
Khothama, I disagree. My baby is not a clown.
“KaMadonsela,” arms wrap around me from the back. It’s the
husband who should be mingling with other men outside.
It’s the Easter weekend and I’m hosting a braai, Vumile and
Nandi are never around, they’d rather spend time travelling
the world than with family.
“Peaches!” He whines, pressing his lips on to my neck.
I want to give him the attention he seeks but these women are
laughing at me.
“You’re embarrassing me, stop whining like a child.”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it Khethi,” Banami is forward.
“We already know where this is going, get a room.”
Khothama says.
I hear Ntaba chuckle against my ear, he presses a wet kiss and
my whole body shivers at the sensation.
“Everyone is laughing at us,” I complain.
He doesn’t care, his arms are tight around me.
“You’re an amazing woman, you know that?” He says.
“Yes, my husband mentioned it once and that is why he
married me.”
I have to entertain him or he will never leave me alone. This
man is touching me inappropriately in public.

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“There’s no one in our bedroom,” he introduces.
Of course there’s no one there. It’s our bedroom. A line forms
across his forehead when I don’t respond.
“What?” I’m just curious as to why he is looking at me like
that.
“Are you okay?” I think I know what he means, he’s been
asking me this every day for the past two years.
“I told you yesterday and the day before that I’m fine.” I say.
“No, I mean after last night. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Oh
gosh!
Trust him to remind me of our sex marathon, heat covers my
face.
“No.” I turn away to avoid the intense look in his eyes, my
hands start playing with the spoons in the sink. Only Ntaba
can subject me to such shyness. He tilts his head over to look
into my eyes.
“So you are fine, down there?” His voice is low but that
doesn’t make these people disappear.
Why have they crowded my kitchen, anyway?
“Yes Ngwane, now stop.” I’m lying.
I’d say anything to get him off my back.
“Oh okay, if you say so. It’s just that last night someone
mentioned something about explaining their limping to
people.” He wants to laugh at me.
He might as well join these idiots laughing behind me.
“Ntaba, there are people in here. Now is not the time.”
“No, don’t mind us. We are enjoying the show.” I hear the
amusement in Khothama’s voice.
I look over my shoulder, these women are shameful. They are
plastered on my barstools like nothing is happening, can’t
they see this man trying to make me weak?
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“Everyone get out of my kitchen, my wife and I need a
moment alone.” Ntaba has defeated me.
Laughter!
“There’s food in this kitchen, get a room.” Banami replies.
“Who pays the bills in this house?” Ntaba.
I want to follow this water going down the drain.
“Actually, I don’t mind, you guys go ahead. It won’t be
anything new, we all watch porn” That’s Khushi.
Why didn’t Hlabela leave her in India?
Everyone is looking at her, Hlabela does not look pleased.
He’s chiding her with a stern look.
“Am I lying?” She’s asking him by the way.
Hlabela’s tongue click is loud, he clicks it again and marches
out of the kitchen.
“Baby, what did I do?” She hurries after him, I smell trouble
in paradise.
“Yhu, amandia.” (Indians.)
Khothama always has a comment, he claps once and lets his
feet lead him out the kitchen. The others follow behind him
until Ntaba and I are left alone.
He turns me around, pins me against the sink and presses his
body against mine.
“Can you feel that?” He asks.
His manhood is poking me.
Shame, I’m not a penis doctor. He will see himself.
“Let me in Khethi, I’ll just take a peek and come out.”
What does he think I am? A china shop? His hands start to
wander on my body, he’s touching every private property.
Nerves invade my privacy, this man can’t still have this effect
on me after years of doing life with him.
“We have guests, Ngwane. Don’t be silly.”
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“So? They are adults, they can take care of themselves.” He
kisses my lips, his hands grip my butt.
“I have to check on Nqabile, he hasn’t eaten.” I’m lying, the
last time I saw him, he had a piece of sausage in his mouth.
“Mathonga is with him, all the kids are together.” He attacks
me with a hungry kiss.
There’s no escape for me once I’m in his arms.
“Koko, are you two dressed? I forgot my beer.” Khothama is
back. I push Ntaba away, he stands back with a frown on his
face.
“Please be decent, I need my beer.” Khothama again.
His eyes are squinted but he can still see where he’s going.
“Your eyes are not even closed, ndoda.” My husband is
sexually frustrated.
“No, I’d rather see through a blurry vision than a clear one. I
don’t want to be traumatised.”
Nonsense!
He thinks Ntaba and I are having sex in the kitchen with
everyone outside.
He grabs his beer, shakes his head and walks out downing the
liquor.
“Let’s go play chip and dip, KaMadonsela. I’m hungry.” He’s
touching me again.
I can’t deny him when he’s suddenly looking at me like I’m
his reason for his existence. Ntaba’s lips are on my neck,
tongue on my skin.
“Okay, okay. Just two seconds, we have guests to entertain.”
“I promise, you won’t even feel me coming in.” He says,
hugging me from the back.
That’s not how it works and what will be the point anyway?
I want to comment, but he’ll say something more stupid.
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Nevertheless, I love him and he loves me. I just have to accept
that there is no romantic bone in my husband’s body.
I guess he will always be a STRANGER TO LOVE.

…><…

THE END!!!

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Author’s Note:

Thank you for your continuous support. If you’re not part

of Ashanti Kingdom, please do join us on our Facebook
group *Ashanti Kingdom*
For more of my stories visit the Facebook page *Vicious
Cycle.*
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