Bonus Content to celebrate ten weeks of The Workplace & Its Employees.

Dear reader

Thank you for keeping your eyes and imagination committed to this blog. I write for your entertainment and I can only hope that I do not disappoint. Today is the last day of the bonus special post.

Don’t forget to pop in and tell us about your favourite character thus far from The Workplace & Its Employees, Season 1. Keep inviting your friends on our journey. Let’s get bigger.

For as long as you read, I will continue to write,

Ketso.

New Year’s Eve: Morning

George

Imagine turning yourself in on New Year’s Eve? No man, I cannot do that. I am parked outside of the police station. The plan was to walk in and stop the police search for me. They have made police look for me everywhere except in the parking lot of their very own police station – talk about hiding in plain sight. I haven’t even said goodbye to my beautiful wife, Luthando, and our three children. She gave me the best of the best. I will never stop loving this woman. I hate myself for the position that I have put her in. But I trust Sindi and I know that she will do what I have asked.

Sindi neh…

That girl’s ambition was her downfall. As rare as that is, all she wanted and cared about was money. Lutha was the same way, but in Lutha’s defence, she is cut from a different cloth than Sindi.

I met Lutha when she was in matric. She must have been about sixteen or seventeen. I was already a thug by then. I had already met the wrong crowd, I was already making bad decisions and reserving my cell in prison. I was making a lot of money and I wanted a naive girl that I could spend it with. I wasn’t necessarily looking for love, but I was looking for someone who would smile at me and remind me of a time when innocence was still something that was not foreign to me.

Lutha’s younger sister, Luhle, was a very forward girl. She liked hanging out with my crew and I. She liked one of the guys that we hung out with, but he just wanted sex from her. Lutha would always task herself with finding Luhle and when she reached Luhle sitting amongst my boys and me, she would shit on us and on her sister then drag Luhle home. She was a bookworm – a beautiful bookworm. She looked for any reason to escape her reality and I took advantage that.

I courted her for a good three months. I wasn’t in school, so I was not her type, but I did things for her and, just like any other girl, she opened her mind about what a type is. Let’s be honest: more than the six pack and the looks and the mind and whatever else is on that list of an ideal man, women just want a man who will make sure she never lacks anything. I was that for Lutha and it made my courting a lot easier because my money and the things that I did for her topped what she looked for in her type. She stopped taking taxis to school because I made sure that I fetch her every morning with my gusheshe and takeher to school, then fetched her and dropped her off at home. I bought her groceries, which both she and her mother appreciated. That made things a lot easier for me. I was feeding her mother, her unemployed drunk uncle and whichever girlfriend he was with for the weekend. I was feeding an aunt who had kids and no means of feeding those kids. I made Lutha a god in her home. I gave her isthunzi and her family respected her, however young she was. So it wasn’t difficult for me to start asking her to sleep over at my place or start spending weekends with me.

The township girl in a township school who thought she was too good for township boys her age was living with me by the time her matric finals started. She was pregnant with our first daughter by the end of her matric finals and I married her instead of letting her go to university. I carried on doing nice things like extending her mother’s house before moving us into the suburbs. She was great at being my wife and being a mother to my children. She knew that I did not make an honest living. She has just never known the details. She always thought that being innocent is cute and I let her believe that’s what I loved the most about her.

Even now, I cannot really tell you what I love about her. I just found myself in love with her by the time she gave me my son. He is my last born, coming after my third born and first son, Siya. Lutha doesn’t know that. She would die if she found out. She actually believes I’ve been faithful to her all these years.

Sindi is completely different from Lutha. Sindi is stupid because Mthunzi is actually a legal version of me. Our intentions are the same and we would both do anything for people who have left a life they’ve known and abandoned the life they thought they’d have if they work hard enough, just to be with us and live the life we give them. Mthunzi was just not breaking the law in getting his money to do that for Sindi. But legal money is never enough. Ever. To make legal money, you work harder and you still don’t make what us illegal workers make. Sindi loves money. Sindi is loyal to money. She knows that about herself and she is not ashamed to embrace just about anything to be more than okay financially. That’s why I never worried about Siya. His mom always had an ace up her sleeve, so I knew that she would always make sure that he is okay. A woman who leaves her marriage for money- you don’t worry about her ability to maintain a comfortable life.

Had I married a woman like Sindi, we would be very far in life. The sexiest thing about Sindi is her ability to make a plan.

I told Lutha that I was going away on business. Now that my face and name are all over the media, she knows by now that I am on the run and she will probably never see me again. But who am I kidding? The minute the police sell the story to the newspaper that I have been captured then announce which facility I’ll be serving my time at – which police do by the way, I don’t care how they defend themselves- Lutha will come and see me every visiting moment. I just know. Which I appreciate, don’t get me wrong. But I do want her to reserve Christmas for Sindi. I am hoping that my son will start asking questions and put pressure on Sindi to start bringing him to me so he and I can have a relationship. I have never wanted to push that relationship because he has known Mthunzi to be his father his whole life. I don’t believe in traumatizing children. Trauma is what got me in this life in the first place. I don’t wish any of this on any of my children.

Anyway, I start my engine and drive out of the police station. I need to spend my last New Year’s Eve of freedom saying goodbye to life as I know it.

I start at my house in Saxonworld. I see my kids playing in the yard. Nobuhle is a teenager now and she is the type that lives to show us flames. She and her mother fight all the time. She lives on her phone. When that gadget is out of her hands, she is a demon. Her sister, my second one, she is the sweetest. She has time for both her siblings. She understood Buhle because I suppose they are both teenage girls. But it’s her relationship with her brother that fascinates me the most. She makes time for him. She plays with him. She takes interest in the things he likes and she is just a wonder. But she also scares me. She has a Sindi in her and that quality is sexy on a woman I fuck and pimp out to business partners, but not in a woman I birthed. My little son – he is the most grateful of my kids. He appreciates the smallest things. He is going to make a good husband one day. I am going to miss out on so much. But my time has come. I knew this day would come and I am at peace knowing that today is my last day outside of a prison. I don’t even want to observe Lutha. She will make me want to buy myself another week. I would walk in and have sex with her one last time, but I doubt that she would put it on me the way that Sindi did. She’s the innocent type, not the type that knows and appreciates how stupid a woman’s body and sexuality can make a man.

Now, I am headed to Ermelo one more time. Maybe I’ll have sex with Sindi one last time then watch my son one last time. Tonight, I’ll hand myself in.

Thomas

I am a bit taken aback that Pearl is remarried. Now, I also have Lydia in a mood threatening to drive back to Gauteng with my daughter because she insists that I am still in love with Pearl. I am here with her, aren’t I? She is the one spending the festive season with my family and me. She is the one next to me every day and she is the mother of my daughter. Why are we arguing about Pearl? She is not even here?

Women!

Now I must beg her to not leave and convince her while I convince myself that I am not in love with Pearl.

“Lydia, can you please stop this. Please. This is completely unnecessary. I am not in love with Pearl. How are you accusing me of wanting to still be with her when I left her for you?”

She is not even responding to me. She is packing her bag and Rofhi‘s bag. I honestly cannot believe this is happening.

“Baby, how do we fix this?” Now I am resorting to admitting to stuff so she can hear me out.

“We don’t fix it. You and I are done. We are over. Go back to Pearl. We will co–parent.”

Okay, now she is being a bit extreme. Seriously?

“I don’t want to go back to Pearl. I want to be with you.”

“Then why are you still talking to her? Why? What do the two of you talk about?”

“We were talking about Palesa and how she could help us push her out. It was purely business.”

“Purely business, Thomas? Purely business? Then why is she sending pictures of herself to you?”

I sigh. I don’t have a response to that question.

“What do you take me for?” She asks me.

“Lydia, I love you. I really do. I don’t want to fight with you about Pearl. I want us to focus on us.

Lydia, we have a beautiful baby girl together. We have a beautiful family that has just started out. Baby, Pearl is not even worth this moment that we are having right now. Please.” I say.

She wants to give in, but she always seems like she is putting pressure on herself to stay strong. I walk towards her and I put my arms around her. I pull her face towards my chest. Our daughter is sleeping on our bed in front of us.

“Look at the beautiful baby girl you blessed me with”, I whisper to her.

Her shoulders become less tense.

“Baby, look at her. You made me a father to the most beautiful princess in the world. Look at her.” I whisper.

She looks at our daughter peacefully sleeping.

“We made that, baby. We made that together. And we were in love when we made her. She is not a mistake. She is our love. Baby, we have created something so beautiful together. Don’t break this. Please love, don’t take this away from us – from her.”

She finally looks up at me. She gets on her toes. I know she wants to kiss me. I lean in towards her and I kiss her. Her hands are running up my back from under my t-shirt. We are good together. Maybe I should marry her. She would be a good Mrs Ramaru. I guess with Pearl now officially married, it’s a clear sign that I have no other option but to also make a decision regarding my relationship with Lydia.

“I’m pregnant”, she says.

“Again?” Me. I didn’t mean to respond like this, but seriously? Again? Rofhi is not even two.

She looks at me like she is ready to slap me.

“No baby, I didn’t mean it like that. I am surprised. I thought you were on that injection.” I say.

“Do you think I want to have another child so soon after Rofhiwa? I was on contraceptives. When I went for the injection, they took a pregnancy test and it was positive. I can always have an abortion.”

“What?! No! No baby, we will have this baby. We will figure it out. You are going to make me a father again”, I say. I am actually excited now that I think about it.

“My mom is going to kill me though. Two kids and I’m unmarried.” She says and giggles.

I wish I could say let’s get married, but I giggle with her instead.

There is a knock on my bedroom door.

“I was really hoping that we could have some celebratory sex”, I say.

She giggles.

“I’ll get the door. Please unpack your bags. Please.”

She laughs aloud.

I get to the door. It is my brother, Rudzani.

“Are you and Lyd joining us? We are leaving for the resort now.” He says.

The plan is to go to the family resort and spend NYE there. The kids will be able to swim, play and whatever else kids do for fun. After we put them to sleep at 8pm, adults will have some adult fun.

“Yeah, we are coming. Rofhiwa is still sleeping. We thought we’d wait for her to wake up.” I lie.

Her mother was ready to leave a few minutes ago. She doesn’t even know that we are headed to the resort.

“Okay. Should we wait for you?” He asks.

“Yeah. We should be another ten minutes. We will carry Rofhiwa if we have to.” I say.

He nods his head and walks away.

…

Just as we expected, the kids are running wild. You’d swear my little Rofhi is not two. She can barely put sentences together, but she screams louder than all of these kids here. She runs – she falls. She walks – she gets left behind. I never agreed with Lydia regarding my baby girl starting swimming lessons at four months. But I am glad she didn’t care for my opinion with that because now, my little Rofhi knows water and she knows what to do with water. Lydia still runs after her as if anything can happen to her at anytime, but for the most part, my little Rofhi is an independent and feisty little madam. I can’t believe next year this time, we will be dealing with two of her. I hope this one is a boy. I used to think I’d want four children. Maybe because I started quite late in having kids, I’m okay with us just having two. My princess is already here, now I’m hoping for a son to take over all of this that I work so hard for.

“You need to bring Rofhiwa to Venda more often, not just in December. She is becoming more responsive to TshiVenda now”, Samuel, my eldest brother, tells me. Samuel, Rudzani, Jerry and I are brothers. I run our construction business, Samuel runs the resort and hotel chains, Jerry runs our restaurant chains and Rudzani is still in school. He is studying at Harvard. The four of us are here braaing meat and drinking beer.

“Yeah, I agree with you. It is important that she learns how to speak TshiVenda. But who would stay with her here when she visits? Our parents are dead.”

“Have you considered getting a TshiVenda helper or nanny? That’s what Aliciadid when I started telling her that our kids needed to learn TshiVenda.” Samuelsays. Alicia is his wife.

“Lydia’s mother is more like her nanny. She doesn’t trust anyone else to look after Rofhiwa. But she has also started crèche“.

“Isn’t she a bit too young for crèche?” Rudzani.

“I also used to think so. But her mother thought it was time she learned how to swim, sing and do whatever else they do at that crèche of theirs”.

My brother’s shake their heads, disapproving in how Lydia and I are raising our daughter. We don’t exactly raise our kids like this in our family, but I do also have to give Lydia space to be Rofhiwa‘s mother. In my opinion, she is not doing a bad job at it.

“Are you going to marry her?” Jerry asks me.

“I might have to. She’s pregnant”. I say.

“AGAIN?!” They all exclaim.

Ja neh.

I take a sip of my beer and continue to braai this meat.

“Are you happy with her though? I don’t know, she seems a bit too young for you. What do you guys even talk about? Do you talk or do you just make babies?” Samuel.

“She’s a good woman. I do love her. I knew that I would spend the rest of my life with her the minute she told me she was pregnant with Rofhiwa. And we’ve been great together. We talk about a lot. She is great in business. But I have only been with her for a short space of time. I thought we’d take things slow, but obviously she got pregnant, so taking things slow was out of the question. Besides, I was still married to Pearl when she got pregnant and I had to settle that matter. So we are only really being together truly now”. I explain.

Samuel nods his head.

“Look, I like her. She fits right in around here and she loves you. She is now the mother of two of your children.” Rudzani.

“She is very special to me. I do love her. And I don’t see my kids growing up in a broken family or having step siblings. Lydia and I are forever.” I say. I actually mean it.

Samuel pats me on the back.

“Where are Gundo and his wife? I don’t see them”, I say.

“They left after Alicia and Gundo’s wife got into a fight.” Rudzani tells us. He is always in the loop about the beef between the women.

“What were they even fighting about?” I ask.

“That Gundo is unemployed and we are not stepping in to assist. Alicia told the wife that Gundo needs to make a plan because that’s what a man does. She also said that we didn’t start this business just to give out jobs to family as if we are giving food out at a feeding scheme.” Rudzani.

We all burst into laughter.

“I told you to stop inviting them to spend Christmas with us. All our cousins. They are too entitled man. We are okay with it just being us.” Samuel.

“That’s cruel. They are our uncles’ children. We cannot just shut them out”, Jerry.

“But no one ever has fun with them. They want positions and money from us, not actual work. We’ve tried to hire them in our various companies, they don’t want work. They want management positions. Imagine.” Samuel.

“I agree with you. And they have no place in our space. Lydia is a beast over there. She will not give them the time of day. My team drives high performance. We cannot and will not allow low hanging fruit”, I say.

“Nombulelo has already expressed her position and Kefilwe – as nice as she is – will never carry dead weight with her.” Jerry. Nombulelo is Rudzani’s wife. She manages a business while Rudzani is in school finishing his 500th degree.

We laugh yet again.

“We not hiring them. It’s not happening. Next Christmas, we not inviting them again.” I say.

We laugh.

I feel little hands wrapped around my leg. I look down and see my little Rofhi. She is wet from the swimming she has been doing. Her afro is wet, so I know she and her mom will be having a wash night before she sleeps – she will need me for peace. I just know. Her swimming costume is also dirty, so I know she was rolling on grass or something after the pool activates.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

She points in the direction of the pool. She says something, but we can’t hear what she is saying.

We look at the pool. What are we looking at?

I put down the braaing tools, pick her up and we go to the pool. Samuel follows me, leaving Jerry and Rudzani with the meat.

“My baby girl, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” She really looks stressed.

She keeps pointing at the pool and the only thing we hear her say is “drown”. Samuel has dived into the pool, pulling out Jerry‘s youngest son. He is drowning.

The mothers are going to kill us. They are inside doing I don’t know what. The elder kids are playing soccer and not paying any mind to the little ones swimming. How long was he in there?

I put my Rofhi down and tell her to call her mother. I say it in TshiVenda and she runs into the direction of where her mother is. I am glad she understands my language.

This child is not moving. Samuel is trying to perform CPR on this child. Rudzani is there taking over. He has done many of these courses. The environment is suddenly tense, painful even. Rudzani is even performing mouth to mouth. He is not responding. The mothers run out. Kefilwe has changed. Alicia is next to Samuel. I see Lydia next to Rudzani. She lies the child on his side. She is also doing something now. I don’t know what.

“Thomas, please get me Rofhiwa‘s first aid kit in the car.”

I run to the car and not think twice about it. I am back quickly and give Lydia the first aid. The kid is vomiting now.

At least he is alive.

Lydia opens Rofhi‘s first aid kit and uses some of it to do I don’t know what. The child is now crying. That’s a good sign right?

Now I see Lydia cradling the three year old. Jerry and Kefilwe breathe a sigh of relief. My wife-to-be – the hero.

New Year’s Eve: Evening

Mthunzi

“I can’t believe we are not partying tonight”, I tell my beautiful wife as she comes into the bedroom from the shower. She has a towel wrapped around her head and one wrapped around her body. She is so beautiful.

“You decided to impregnate me. Now we have kids and they want fireworks”, she says.

We both laugh.

“I told mama we will be at the house in the next hour. She says the kids don’t even care that we are not there and she is having a good time with your mom. So we will probably be able to go out after we have done the fireworks thing for them.” She says.

The decision was that we would spend New Year’s Eve in Mafikeng. My brothers joined us and Koena’s mother was more than excited to have all of us. She then phoned my mother and we ended up driving down with my mother to Mafikeng. They decided that all the grandchildren will stay on the farm – yep, Koena’s family has a farm. They have a big house on the farm, but it isn’t big enough to accommodate all of us. So my mom, Koena’s parents, and all mine my brothers’ kids are all there. My brothers, our wives and I are staying in a hotel. We have been instructed to bring fireworks with us and braai meat. The celebration is for the kids tonight. But Koena has promised to show us Maf-town nightlife after we’ve put down the little bullies to bed. Mfundo, Sakhile, Lunga, Sethati, Oratilwe and Snethemba are protesting though. They are the eldest cousins and belong to us. They are all above fifteen and have been following Maf-town nightlife on social media. They have negotiated that they go out with us tonight. Sethati and Oratilwe are around for Christmas. I am glad that they are giving their mother and her family a chance. I think that this is the rehabilitation that Keba needs beyond the bars. But no one knows where she is. The mothers have agreed, so we’ve also had to book them rooms in the hotel. None of us are brave enough to go knock on the gogos’ doors in the early hours of the morning bringing four kids back.

“Are we going to fuck in the public toilets tonight?” I ask her. I like messing with her. She makes it so easy.

She laughs at me.

“What are we going to do about Philile? She’s heavily pregnant and she’s already mad at Fifi and I for agreeing to party with you guys tonight. Bafana is basically not being supportive and apparently we are encouraging that behaviour”, she tells me.

I don’t understand how supporting her pregnancy is a group assignment. My brothers and I barely see each other throughout the year. We meet up during the festive and have a good time. Philile knows this. Philile was more comfortable with Sindi because they are both stuck up. They used to be grumpy every New Year’s Eve at 8pm so my brothers and I wouldn’t go out. Refiloe has always been an MVP. She would always say, “We will deal tomorrow when we come back” and all three of us would allow ourselves to be peer-pressured by her. Those kids she teaches have taught her well about peer pressure.

“Bafana must make a call on what he’s going to do about his wife. Zakhele and I are not getting involved. We are not the ones who got her pregnant.” I say.

She side-eyes me.

“We would be able to go with her if she was a few months pregnant. Now she looks like she is ready to pop. I’m just worried that if we leave her alone… like baby, what if she goes into labour while we are out there turning up? Phela us tswana people will have you crawling back home when the sun is out”, she says.

We both laugh.

“We will leave her with the gogos” I say.

She laughs.

“I’d divorce you if you ever did that shit to me.” She says.

I find it amazing how her body is back in shape now. She has stretch marks here and there, but she is incredible. She is lotioning herself and my erection is now out of control. As I make my way to touching her, she becomes – I don’t know – emotional.

“Babe?” I check in with her.

“Thank you for coming with me this morning to Mohavi’s grave. And thank you for helping me with his tombstone”. She says.

Oh ja. Mafikeng does this to her. She becomes so sad. I think she feels guilty that she was never able to be present with Mohavi. She had him when she was extremely young and she had to make the difficult decision that most mothers have to make – leave the kid and go to the big city to make money to support them. If Mohavi were still alive, he would definitely be the third brother in our house. Now, Koena is raising Mfundo and Thingo and she feels guilty that she couldn’t raise Mohavi.

I hug her. I wish I could fuck her, but she needs a hug right now and I give her that to remind her that she is a good mother. I don’t want her to doubt herself. She did the best that she could with Mohavi and wherever he is, he knows it too. We unveil his tombstone on the second of January. Then on the second at midnight, we all driving to KZN to pay damages for Mfundo and have a ceremony where we officially change his surname from Langa to Msomi. We are going to be so exhausted by the time we have to go back to work.

…

These kids are already all over us. Koena finds Thingo and I know that I will only have her attention again when we go turn up.

“Hello”, Keba greets me. I didn’t even know that she was here.

“Hey, sbali. How are you?” Me.

“I’m good. I hear you guys are going out tonight?” She says.

I can’t be awkward, so I ask, “Aren’t you coming with us?”

“I wasn’t invited.” She says.

But guys, we are going to groove. Does anyone need an invitation to go and party? Especially in their own hometown? You just need money or a man who will sponsor your drinks for the night. And since she is my sbali, that becomes my responsibility because I know that she doesn’t work. And, I’m just a gentleman like that.

“But sbali, even your kids are coming to party with us. Are you really going to stay here with these old people and these young bullies?” I ask her. She laughs.

“Thank you for… My kids seem more comfortable in Mafikeng now, even Oratilwe. I know you and Koena have everything to do with that. Thank you.”

“You should tell Koena too. She is your sister and this kind of conversation would mean a lot to her.” I suggest.

She’s not messing with the idea.

My brothers and I are braaing meat. Keba is outside with us, but sitting on a camp chair and downing her Hunters Dry like she had a long day. I see Philileand Refiloe arguing. Lalela, we are partying tonight. If Refiloe flips on us, she is staying with Philile. But she deals with kids every day, peer pressure doesn’t get to her. I will be disappointed if she proves me wrong.

“And then, sbali? Jive?” Keba asks me, enquiring about Philile.

“Ey sbali, her husband must stay with her. We are going to party.” I say.

We all laugh.

“Where were you going with a pregnant wife? She should have stayed at home – nice and close to her OBGYN. What are we going to do with her if she pops?” Keba has no timing yaz.

“Sbali, you can’t say that. Her husband is right here.” Even Zakhele deems this inappropriate.

“Exactly! He could have been mine to fuck tonight because he’s definitely not getting it from pregnant-Peggy tonight. And I think he is yummy enough to undo the virginity that prison did me”.

WHAAAAAATTTT THE FAAAAAKHI?!

Yey! Yey! Yey! That shit better not happen. No!

“Maybe you and I can still talk”, Bafana.

Ngeke! How is this happening? Why is this happening?

“Guys, please. We don’t need shit to be awkward. Koena and I still have to live with the consequences of whatever happens tonight.” I say.

“But me fucking Bafana has nothing to do with you or Koena. We actually don’t need your permission.” Keba.

Bafana agrees with her and Zakhele is laughing. You know what – I am not investing in this conversation. I am just crossing fingers that nothing happens.

My phone rings. Bafana’s phone rings as well. Sihle is calling me and Nonhlanhla is calling Bafana.

“Sho”.

“I think we are lost.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nikuphi?”

“In Mafikeng. I didn’t know you were coming”.

“Koena’s said we could come. What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem. I’m just surprised.”

“Well, she said we could come and we bringing the kids. She said mom is also there.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“So you don’t have a plan? You just coming to my in-laws without a plan?”

“Mxm. I don’t even know why I called you. Let me phone Koena.”

She hangs up. What the hell?

“Nonhlanhla and Sihle are coming?” Bafana enquires.

“I also didn’t know.” I say.

Zakhele laughs.

“They must stay here with Philile“. Bafana says.

Zakhele and I die of laughter.

“What are you going to do, ndoda? Refiloe is already making me feel bad about wanting to enjoy Maf-town. This is my first New Year’s Eve here. I don’t want issues.” Zakhele says.

“Koena was also saying we can’t leave her alone in case she goes into labour.” I say.

Bafana sighs.

“Bafana, I was told the tswanas will make us crawl back home when the sun comes out. I am ready to be vulnerable. Make sure Philile doesn’t bother us, please.” I say.

“I’m with you there. The wives and these kids are driving us back.” Zakhele.

“Oh fuck the kids. Are we even allowed to get wasted in front of the kids?” I ask.

“These kids must stay here with Philile.” Bafana.

Everyone, but him, must stay with Philile according to him.

“Bafana, make a plan about Philile and I’ll make it worth your while.” Keba.

This is very uncomfortable.

As we are having a late dinner under the varanda because it’s raining now, Sihle, Nonhlanhla and Nonhlanhla‘s kids walk in through the gate. The kids are excited and their screams irritate my ears. It’s a reunion for them in the rain and the mothers are shouting at them and telling them about all the kinds of flu that they will get so they must get out of the rain. Koena puts Thingo on my lap, pecks my lips, then goes to help my sisters with their bags. I see her taking the bags to one of the cars we came in. I guess she organized the hotel for them as well.

Sihle’s husband, whom we get along with, hugs my wife before coming to sit with us. Refiloe has already organized him a plate full of food.

“Mangwane, the clothes you and rangwani bought for us fit us nicely. Thank you.” Sethati tells Koena and me.

I can see that Keba is slightly hurt. Koena and I have basically taken over being parents to Keba’s kids. But it puzzles me that Keba has no problem with me, but she resents her sister for stepping in.

“You are welcome.” Koena says.

“Are we going to stop at the hotel? Sne and I need to change before we go out.” Oratilwe. Snethemba agrees with her.

“Where are the kids going?” Koena’s mother asks.

Ask them, gogo! Ask them!

“Koko, please. We are also partying tonight. Bo-mangwane have already agreed.” Oratilwe is a piece of work yaz.

“Gogo, we will be safe. Don’t worry sithandwa sami”, Mfundo says to Koena’s mother kissing her cheek. Now, he’s a problem too. I catch Sethati laughing. I really had faith in my mother-in-law to stop the kids from going out with us. All it took was smooth talk and a cheek-kiss on Mfundo? Pitiful!

Koena’s mother is now making Philile laugh, so she is not in a mood anymore.

My phone vibrates. I pull it out and see a text from Koena.

“I organized with mom to sort Philile out for us.”

I laugh. I show the text to my brothers. Bafana literally stands up to go hug my wife.

I married a strategic peer-pressure principal.

Indeed Philile is over us and she is within chats with my mother-in-law. Leaving her is going to be easier than I thought. I thought we’d need to dodge her like we’d dodge a five year old who never wants to be left behind.

Keba is sad. I wonder what’s going on there.

“FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

All the men – and Keba – are within the firecrackers. Thingo is losing his mind,so Koena is inside the house trying to calm him down.

The community is actually here with us, celebrating. We’ve given people we don’t know food and beer. Koena’s mother seems to be the mother who doesn’t fuck with the community like that, so she said none of these people must enter her yard. Now, we have to do this firecracker thing in the street and bring beer cooler boxes into the street. Koena’s mother and my mother have even closed the gate. Imagine!

When we realized that the kids will be here with two old ladies and an old man who just wants his beer and farm animals close to him (Koena’s dad is special I tell you. I want to be like him when I grow up), we built a fence around the entire farm and put an electric gate and electric fence on to top of the facebrick fence we built. So ja, we are out of the yard.

We bought so many boxes of these fireworks, so we start giving them to these other community people. The sooner we finish this crap, the sooner the kids can sleep so we can go party.

I see Koena on the porch with her dad and Thingo. She and her dad are actually close. Keba is starring at them with so much sadness. Koena is the golden child around here and her parents don’t hide it. It really hurts Keba, but I am extremely concerned with what all of this is doing to her internally. Her kids love the hell out of Koena. They call me rangwane, but treat me like their father. Koena is mangwane, but they go to her when they need a mother. They call Mfundo their brother – not cousin. And Thingo is their baby brother – not cousin. Her kids are gelling with everyone, but her. I am no psychologist, but even I know that this is enough to set anyone off – let alone an ex-convict. But I hope that the only things being set off tonight are these firecrackers. Even Philile has calmed down.

I walk to Koena and kiss my wife a happy new year. Thingo is not amazed at the firecrackers, but he has at least stopped crying.

“Happy new year, baba”. I say to my father-in-law. I know I should say ntate, but I keep forgetting.

“Happy new year, morwa”, he says. I know that means son.

“I hear you are going out after this”, he says.

“Yes ntate, we want to experience Mafikeng”.

“Be careful. The last time I did that, I almost lost my wife. The women here are beautiful and tempting”, he says.

We all laugh. He is right though. But I’ve got game.

“I got the most beautiful one of them all.” I say.

My wife smiles at me, but she gives me a look that reads – well, angazi.

“You better remember that. You break my Koena’s heart, I shoot you.”

Yho, this man. Is he even allowed to threaten me like this? But I laugh because, ngizothini? Dads must always show us their thug side when we get too comfortable.

“You are still here?” Philile asks us.

This woman was ready to blackmail us into not leaving. Now she can’t wait for us to leave. Koena’s mom works wonders. This is the work of witchcraft, I tell you.

“The streets are still alight.” I say.

“These kids must come back into the yard and go to sleep now.” She says.

What did they give this woman?

She is on the phone now. Koena looks at me and chuckles.

“Bafana, bring the kids back. It’s time for them to sleep.” Kubi!

…

“Now, Bafana!” Like I said, kubi!

…

New Year’s Day –Morning.

Mthunzi

I would tell you what we got up to in the streets of Mafikeng, but I need sleep. And as promised, we are crawling into our hotel rooms at 8am.

Even our teenage kids are exhausted. Nonhlanhla is in hospital because she got beaten up for fucking someone’s husband in the public toilets.

Sihle is not talking to her husband. I don’t know why and I don’t care.

Bafana took Keba back to his hotel room and now Koena and Fifi are not talking to Zakhele and I for not stopping Bafana and Keba. Koena is also ready to have a showdown with Keba – just not in front of the kids. Thank God for the kids.

I don’t have the energy for this. I need sleep.

…

Pearl

I have just buried my mother. She passed away from Covid. That woman is so selfish. I could be on my honeymoon right now, but no – she had to die two days after my wedding and now I must be mourning her instead of enjoying being Mrs Hadebe.

This community has no sense of social distancing. They all wanted to be here and mourn with us. Njani guys? How? Everyone here is officially convinced that I am the devil. Qaphela has been great and his support does not go unnoticed. I don’t know how I feel about losing my mother. We were never best friends. I am nowhere near being one of those girls who cannot live without their mothers or have incredibly close relationships with their mothers. I feel like I survived without her my whole life. I am sad yes, but I am not falling apart.

Gcina has been annoying Qaphela and me about wanting to move into this house. She keeps telling us that my mom promised her that she would inherit this house when she died. My mom had no will and Gcina is clearly clueless about how the law works. Also, she is demanding this house as if raising suspicion that she had something to do with mama’s death.

I was five minutes away from agreeing that she can stay in this house when I received her results. Gcina practically scrapped through her matric. She got a leavers certificate. She had one job. One! All she had to do was get into university and she delivers a bloody leavers certificate. This child. Qaphela thinks I’m being unreasonable.

“Nobantu, what do you want from this child?”

“I want Gcina to understand that you and I are not going to be around forever to bail her out every time she decides to be a flop of a person. Why is that so difficult to understand?”

“Don’t you think she already knows what that is like? She has lived without us for years. I have been in jail and when I came out, she was a grown woman. You left her with your mother and married a man who made sure that you had nothing to do with this child. You have just come back into her life. This is the first time that she gets to have both of us in her life. Why are you making this so unbearable for her?”

“I am done apologising for leaving her. I am equally done explaining what my leaving was supposed to do for her. Gcina never struggled. No matter how far I was from her, I made sure that she had enough money to become more than what she is right now. I know I know I know – money is not everything. But it should be a fucken start. What happens tomorrow when she wakes up and I’m not there? You not there? And regardless of our distance, she does not have our money coming into her account? Because uGcina is the “I blew it” type. We working hard and making all this money and she will blow it in a month.”

He looks at me.

“I am tired of this child, Qaphela. She exhausts my spirit. UGcina is a grown woman and she has told herself that she is old enough to do what she wants and chooses not to do what we ask of her. She must get the fuck out of our house and she best not think that she will live la ekhaya”.

“Nobantu, no! Where must she go? What parent kicks her own child out? Nobantu, has it ever occurred to you that maybe she is just not academically strong? Maybe school is not for her. Nobantu, she doesn’t have your survival instincts. You are tough. You always make a plan. That’s you. It’s unfair to expect Gcina to be that way.”

“So she must sit in my house and do nothing for the rest of her life? I must support a grown ass woman forever? You know what irks me? She doesn’t even have a plan. It’s one thing if school is not for her. But what is for her? She fails at everything, Qaphela. EVERYTHING!”

He is silent.

I breathe.

Gcina frustrates the shit out of me.

I feel Qaphela’s hand on my lower back.

“Sthandwa sami”, him.

I just curl into his arms. I failed as a mother. I failed my daughter. I should have aborted her when Qaphela gave me money all those years ago to terminate my pregnancy. I brought a human being in this world and failed to mother it. Now she is a useless lowlife.

I just cry in his arms. I literally fall apart. He holds me, comforting me deeply.

It is also getting late and we need to leave Ndwedwe soon. It is getting dark.

After my hug from my husband, we look at each other. He wipes the tears from my face.

“You are so beautiful”, he says.

I giggle.

“I’m serious”, he says as he smiles at me.

“Ngiyabonga. Love, we need to get going. It is getting late.” I say.

“Yeah. Let me pack our bags into the car.” Him.

“I’ll get that daughter of yours”. I say.

“Sanibonani”. A voice at the door stops us dead in our tracks.

I sincerely hope that this is not one of the mourners coming here to mourn my mother. It is Covid and we need our space.

“Hola.” Qaphela attends to him.

I’d leave, but I want to know who this man is and what he is doing here.

“Ninjani ekhaya?” The man.

“Singakusiza bafo?” Qaphela.

“Igama lami uRomeo wakwaThango. I have come here to confirm that my family will be coming here soon to accept Gcina’s pregnancy.”

“Excuse me?” I have lost it! What the hell did this man just say?

“Gcina and I are expecting our first child.”

…

Qaphela

Nobantu’s face and breathing has taken a turn for the worst. My daughter is going to die today.

“GCINUMAMA!” Nobantu screams.

I was on Gcina’s side, but even I don’t know how to help her with this one. How is my daughter pregnant? I know she is 22 years old now. She is a grown woman who goes on her periods and ovulates monthly. But…

SLAP!

I pull Nobantu away from Gcina. She is going to kill my child now. Gcina’s foot had just entered the TV room when her face met Nobantu’s palm.

Gcina is holding her face and she is already crying. She is shit scared of what Nobantu has become.

You know, when I met Nobantu, she was the most beautiful and most calm human being I had ever known and loved. She was calm. She was shy. I know the softest side to this woman and now my poor daughter is experiencing the gangster in her. I find it extremely sexy, but I am scared for my only child.

“Gcinumama, you struggle to take education and use it to better yourself, but you can go out there and use your vagina to bring me an extra mouth to feed?” I am not letting Nobantu out of my arms. She is going to kill my child.

“It’s your audacity that gets me, wena Gcinumama. Your audacity to willingly go make that child knowing that you cannot even support yourself as a human being.” She continues.

“It was a mistake, Nobantu.” Gcina says, sobbing.

“A mistake? Contraceptives are free at the clinic. And wena! What did you say your name was?”

“Romeo.”

“Wena Romeo! Have you ever heard of condoms?”

I don’t understand what this man is still doing here? I don’t understand how he hasn’t left yet. Has he not picked up that this is not good news?

“Mah –

“Am I your mother wena? Does your mother look like me?”

This man must just go away now. He must just leave.

“Lalela la Gcinumama! Listen to me very carefully. You are a mother now angisho? Mothers make plans. You judged me for the kind of mother that I was to you. Now, you will become me and hope you do better for that bastard you are carrying.”

“Hai bo, Nobantu.” I try, but…

“No Qaphela, she is a woman now. Let her be one. Gcina, you are going to fuck off out of my house and go make a plan for that thing and yourself. In my house, I am the only woman that lives there that makes babies. There will never be two of us. There is a reason why Qaphela will never have a second wife. And you will not move into my mother’s house. I am locking up this house. You and this man of yours that doesn’t know condoms will make a plan. I am done with you, Gcina. Done!”

My child is in tears. I wish I could do something, but even I cannot do anything with and to Nobantu when she is like this.

“Nobantu, where am I supposed to go?” Gcina is weeping as she asks this.

“Where you fucked this man and made that baby. Get out!”

…

Nobantu and I get home just after 9pm. Nobantu cried the whole way from Ndwedwe. I hate to see her like this.

She throws herself on the couch and sighs deeply. I sit next to her. I hold her hand. She lets me.

“You were fifteen when you had her”. I remind her.

“And I should have terminated that pregnancy when you gave me the money to do so”. She says.

How could she say something like that?

“Nobantu, you don’t mean that. You are upset, but you don’t mean what you are saying.”

She is quiet.

“What are we going to do, baba kaGcina?” She asks me.

“I don’t know, sthandwa sami. We will figure it out with our daughter. But we need to calm down and deal with this”. I tell her.

“Qaphela, am I that bad as a mother? Am I that bad?” I hate it when she is like this.

“Come here, my love. Woza.” I say and comfort her.

We fell asleep on the couch. Between the sobbing and the comforting, we just fell asleep here.

I am worried about my child. I don’t know where she is or how she is doing. I want to phone her, but I don’t want my wife hating me and thinking I’m condoning Gcina’s behaviour.

I want to get up and move from this couch, but she is sleeping so peacefully.

Gcina walks in through the door. I am shocked and excited to see her. She is so scared. She looks like she was crying all night. That Romeo of hers walks in behind her.

“Eh ndoda, you are not welcome here. Who do you think you are?”

“Baba please, we really need to talk to you and Nobantu. Please baba”.

“Nobantu is your mother and I am tired of you disrespecting my wife. She was mama not so long ago, now you bring men into her house so you call her by name?”

“Okay. Okay baba. Ngiyaxolisa. We need to talk to you and mama, please hear us out.”

“Gcina, tell your friend to get out of my house, else I will end him.”

Nobantu wakes up. Oh shit.

“Now ndoda!”

Romeo leaves.

Nobantu looks at Gcina. Gcina looks at Nobantu. I am not sure how to be. Neither does Gcina.

Nobantu literally gets up from the couch, kisses me good morning then heads to the bedroom without even acknowledging Gcina. Ja, this is going to be a long nine months.