Chapter Ninety Two

This man also! Was it necessary of him to take of his shoes! It would seem like he lived
with me because who does that? Come on now! I tried pleading with him that my
mother was on her way but he called me a liar to my face. He said he did not trust me at
this moment. He said he had never been so embarrassed as I had done today and he
said, “If I was a South African man I would have beaten you up there and then”! For
once I felt defensive against my country man but he did have a point! Slap a South
African guy in public and see how he would react. Not a Zulu man! What? To slap a Zulu
man is like slapping a god! Their egos are so inflated it is like you will have chopped off
his schlong! He will deal with you hard and you will never forget who is the man and
who is the woman! There is a misconception funny enough perpetuated by men that
women are neither violent nor not abusive. We do it on three fronts financially,
emotionally and sometimes physically. Financially every woman is guilty of it, we want
our men to pay for everything and where we can both pay he must pay more than me.
Equal rights have no place in paying the bills even in marriage, the big ones he is the
man of the house so he must handle it no excuses. Emotionally is when he fails to pay
we make sure we know how inadequate he is and how someone else can step up for
him. Yes we do not always do it upfront subtle hints at how we need this money
desperately. We know when to bring out the tear works to our advantage and when to
seduce to get what we want. Physically is when you have a good man and you know he
can never raise his hand back at you so at times you can slap him “because I was so
angry and he just stood there which made me angrier so I slapped him!” The latter men
don’t acknowledge because its rather embarrassing to say your woman beats you up.
Python thank heavens was the latter. He was not the beating type even though I could
see he was angry.

There is no denying I was in panic mode! I did not know what to do. I begged him. I was
on my knees even. I told him in no uncertain terms that my mother and aunt where on
their way here and he had to go. He thought I was lying and told me that I was full of
lies he was not going anywhere. He asked N who hesitated before she answered
because remember she had not seen them and trying to take bullets for me at the last
moment said yes but it was too late to convince him. He said I was lying hence why I
was behaving like this. I was screwed. I had one plan up my sleeve. I called N and told
her in Zulu (even though she is Xhosa) to go call the twins right now so that they can
come sit with us. N was confused but I think she had gotten the picture that I was not
bluffing because she said out loud “O shit you are telling the truth” and ran next door.
To Python this was all a charade. I put the kettle on and started making tea. When the
girls arrived I told them in Zulu (panic language) that my mother was on her way and
this fool was refusing to leave so we had to make it sEem like we were having a meeting
of some sort. See why it helps having friends! The tea was done in moments. I think the
influx of women had made Python uncomfortable for he put his shoes back on.

It was not more than five minutes before my mother and aunt walked in. You could see
the shock on Pythons face because he still did not believe me. Respectfully he stood up.
Bad mistake. Python might not be as tall as Gorilla but amongst us women at this
moment he looked impressively tall. My mother immediately said,
“Yenzani le ndoda endala kangaka phakathi kwey’ngane?”
That was her first comment. Loosely translated ‘what is this old man doing amongst
children’. Python is not that old. He is actually only 28 but because he is taller and
chiselled he looks older and yeah at times Zulus mistake darker people as older. Yeah…
Surprise! Gorrilla is the one who is older that’s how he is actually friends with Pythons
older brother as stated earlier on. I am ashamed to even say this but I threw him under
the bus and said,
“Kunezinto azidayisayo yingakho sonke silapha.”
I was so ashamed even as the words came out. I had just become the very people I
hated who disrespected foreign people but to be honest at that moment out of fear I
would have done it again. Oh, that loosely translates to, ‘He is selling things that’s why
we are all here’. The other girls looked at me and I must say even N the liar looked
down in disbelief. I was ashamed and my heart just felt like it was rotten at that
moment. I had fed into the stereotype that I knew would reassure my mother. She then
said,
“Lezi zifikanamthwalo hlezi kukhona ezik’dayisayo, loba linye nje lama Zayi Zayi
enidayisele izidakamizwa”
Of which I replied “Uyazi ma!”
And gave a fake laugh. That last statement was the worst. She had basically said these
foreigners will sell you drugs but in such a disrespectful manner if Python could
understand Zulu he would have killed us all. I was so ashamed. I actually told my
mother that it was not necessary to say such but in a manner that would not agitate her
more. My mother is slow to anger and because of that she takes longer to cool down. In
English and slowly as though she were speaking to a child she told Python,
“My daughter is not buying whatever you are selling, phuma!”
For some reason I think Python thought I had told my mother what’s going on and made
it seem like he was the one trying to apologize. Eish my beautiful Python. He stood up
and said, “I apologize for the intrusion yet again but it was good seeing you all again”
he looked down as he walked out. Aunt Lynda had bumped into Python once. She
recognized him and I think had read the situation pretty quickly. She could see the hurt
in my eyes and immediately said she would walk him out. She surprisingly called N to
walk him with her. N jumped up because she knew better. The twins also took their
leave. My mother told them to study hard and must be careful of these foreigners. It
was a humbling moment.

My mother and I left alone we set down and I offered her tea. She said they had had
something at the mall. She could not stop complimenting how big it was and how
expensive things there were. She asked me why I had run away from her. I told her that
I had not but I had realized last minute that we were having a meeting with the foreign
guy who had just left. I asked her why they didn’t tell me that they had arrived and she
said my father wanted to surprise me and see if I still had that iynwele zoMahosha (hair
for prostitutes). That’s what he was now calling the weave he had me cut. I had never
redone my hair since the forced cut. Shows how much they no longer trusted me. My
aunt came back with N and surprisingly they were laughing like old friends. Had they
reached a truce?
My aunt sat next to my mother and N sat next to me. In entered Tebogo. My
aunt and mother were seated with their backs towards him. He did not see
them and the door was open.

“Thandeka please make sure that Nigerian boyfriend of yours stays away from
Natalie. He is dangerous and today he took her to Sandton City and she only
just arrived now! I even bumped into him downstairs! Like what the…”

My mother turned to look at him and he froze in mid sentence and in a funny
wave like motion said,

“Oh… Thobela”

My mother is not the lightest person so when I say the blood had been drained
out of her face in horror it is not an understatement!

****The End****

Chapter Ninety Three

There is a natural instinct that is triggered when it comes to lying to parents. It is not
our fault really. They tend to be rigid and obstructive when it comes to dating and
matters of the heart. For a girl child especially when your parents ask you if you are
dating your first instinct tells you to deny deny deny! Black parents simply cannot
accept that their daughter is dating. To them it is like telling them you are having
unprotected sex with several men! It is almost as though they are being shamed in
public and they have failed as parents. They act like back in the day the father never sat
under a tree at the corner waiting for the mother to come out of the gate so they can
walk each other to go buy bread at the furthest tuck-shop they could find just to be
together for longer. It is a wonder I tell you that girls even get married considering how
much of a top secret a girl dating is. If you stay at home especially dating is a mission,
you learn to be sneaky and how to use time well just so you do not get caught. Obviously
it does not always work out as with most things but that is how life is. I know tradition
and culture tend to hold back openness between a girl child and her parents but at
some point one has to point out how utterly ridiculous it is. I would like to believe that if
ever I have a child I will rather know where she s going, whom she is going with and
when this person will bring my daughter back as opposed to being totally clueless about
who is this person that makes my daughter smile so much.

I was petrified of my parents knowing I was dating. I must say when you are the smart
child at home your parents tend to act as though you are incapable of making wrong
decisions. However, when it comes to dating that assumption gets thrown out of the
window. No man is good enough for their smart daughter who will get her degree, a job
and big white wedding some day. If you from a small town there is pressure on your
parents for you to impress so that when you get a good job and a good rich husband,
your mother must be able to throw the biggest wedding your wretched little town has
ever seen. It is a wedding to show the neighbours, haters and friends too for that matter
that my daughter has made us proud where is that bitch of a child you call yours now!
Parents love showing off with their children but it does not always work out with all
these teenage pregnancies, loser men who abandon pregnant girls once there is
something cooking in the often as well as this unemployment business which forces
degreed girls to come lie at home no matter how much they have achieved. It is tough
out there. Imagine in White City, Mooi River having a big white marquee that can be
seen all the way to the N3. Those are your parents expectations. No matter what you
must get married. In Zulu culture especially in a family like mine that still holds on to
traditions dearly, not getting married is like going swimming with a perm, that is just a
no go area. I must not even think of being that modern woman who does not want a
husband nor children or better yet a woman who wants a child but does not want a
husband. Too many girls from Mooi River had come back pregnant without husbands to
show for it and even if eventually they got that big white wedding, some of the shine
was gone. I know my mother especially wanted me to be an exception to the norm. She
wanted me to be different. She did not want me to be yet another statistic. During my
trials last year she showed me an article she was reading which said over 51% of South
African first born children do not stay with both their biological parents because they
are not together anymore. I remember she kept on emphasizing that my first born child
should not be one of them. Dramatic I tell you. I was guilty of everyone else’s
shortcomings.

My mother looked at me in horror. She had confusion on her face. She stood up for just
a second then sat down again. I think her brain was trying to process if she had heard
correctly. My aunt again read the situation had turned sour but she too was shocked.
Tebogo I immediately gestured to get out before my mother spoke and the poor boy ran
out as fast as he could. I simply could not catch a break. N sat there looking at her feet.
“Is this what you girls are doing here?”
My mother asked the question directed at N not even at me. Yes parents do that. If one
girl is in trouble all her friends get dragged into the mess.
“No ma…”
She replied but did not say anything further. I tried to interject but my mother ignored
me and said to N again,
“This one is a liar I don’t want to speak to her right now. Tell me everything that’s going
on”
N was being put on the spot. Honestly to be fair and to be honest N did not know much
about my relationship with Python. That slithery character was hardly ever around often
enough to call him a proper boyfriend. Even I did not fully believe that he was my
boyfriend! I don’t know if other girls have experienced this, where you date someone
but are not even sure where you stand in that relationship or whether it is a
relationship. I know that nowadays a lot of guys especially have a tendency of saying
ask you out formally is so old fashioned and boring or makes the relationship sound so
formal or an employment contract. Personally I would rather that than not knowing
where I stand but with Python I did not even know where we stand.
N told my mother that he was not my boyfriend but had been pursuing hard. She told
her that I refused to see him alone that’s why every time he came all the girls were
here. She explained that because he was after me the joke around here was that he was
Thandekas boyfriend. She explained that we even called him Python because he was
such a slippery character. She told her that because I was rejecting his proposals he
had just today tried to lure one of my friends in Santon City. He came over because we
had caught him out. N talks too much. Now I most certainly could never bring Python
home after that little speech she had just given. This was getting worse and I felt
powerless to stop it.

My mother listened carefully and simply said,

Before I could even say anything there was a voice by the door which spoke
which spoke with such authority I shook.

I had known this voice for nineteen years. All it had to say was,

“Angikuzwa kahle….ubani uPython?”

It was my father!

How much had he heard?

****The End****