Yoh, I’m getting closer and closer to giving birth to this child. It’s actually depressing me because I have no idea what I’m going to do with this child when he is born. 

Let me not be rude. I haven’t even introduced myself and I’m about to pour out all my issues on you. Trust me, I have a lot of them. 

My name is Basetsana Mofokeng. I know Wandi because we live in the same place. We have both rented back rooms in a Soweto township. These rooms are spacious and affordable. We all have our own bathrooms. Our rooms are big enough for a two-plate stove. But Wandi loves cooking in her high-heel shoes. And she’s the only self-employed person in this yard. So, she actually has no problem coming back from work and cooking in the main house for everyone. We all buy communal food that stays in the main house so she can cook for us. She cooks really well. But with her priest boyfriend sometimes, she isn’t around. And that’s when we must all sort ourselves out. She’s decent enough to let us know in the commune WhatsApp group that she won’t be cooking for us on that particular day. With me, she tries to cook for me every day. If she isn’t cooking, she brings me takeaways. 

Wait till I tell you why. 

We got close and I shared my story with her. So, we’ve become friends of some sort. I even go to that church of hers with her. 

I had a close friend when I was growing up. His name was Keith. We all grew up together in Sebokeng. We always looked out for each other. Yeah, we shared kisses here and there because we did find each other attractive, but when we had to choose between being friends and possibly losing each other to the rough conditions of mjolo, we chose friendship. I believed that we loved each other. Well, I loved him. But I guess I was wrong about the extent of his love for me.

After Keith matriculated, he found a job in the city (Johannesburg) and lived there. But he would come home and see his parents, so our friendship kept soldiering on. He was an only child, so when he left, I ended up going to check in on his mother a lot. 

I then went to university and again, Keith would come home to visit his family. Then he would come to the university to see me. He’d sleep on the couch in my res room – yes, I’d have to sneak him in – then I sleep on the bed. Keith is Tsonga. And I do have a weakness for Tsonga men. But Keith was my friend. My very good friend. And I respected him and our friendship a lot. 

I started working as a bus hostess as soon as I were done with my tourism degree. I studied tourism because it was the only degree that my mother could afford to pay for. I earned enough to keep myself and my family fed. I lived at home for some time before I met Thebe – the owner of this house and the outside rooms – then came to live here. 

I could feel Keith drifting away when I got to live here in Soweto. It was as if he didn’t want me here. He treated me like I’m not part of his life here. I belong back home in Sebokeng Small Farms, not here in Soweto or Joburg. 

When I met his then girlfriend and now wife, Noria, I understand why. Noria was extremely jealous, and she hated anything feminine around Keith. She is a mixed-race lady from Reggae Park and she had a bit of a “steerkom” dangerous streak about her. 

I kept my distance too. I wasn’t even invited to their wedding and that really broke my heart.

Until…

A few months ago when Keith and Noria approached me. They told me that Noria was not producing eggs and that she couldn’t carry a baby to full term. And they wanted a baby. So, they asked me to not only donate an egg, but to carry the baby too… like a surrogate. 

I was hesitant at first. I mean Noria doesn’t even like me. But she wants me to carry a child for her and Keith – a child that will biologically be mine and Keith’s. That made no sense to me at all. 

But Keith wanted a baby. And I loved him enough to go through with this crazy idea.

Today, I find myself eight months pregnant. Noria got her lawyers to phone me and tell me that the deal was off. They no longer wanted the baby and I was then told that Keith will no longer be speaking to me ever again. I’ve been blocked on all his platforms and have no way of contacting him. I was then given ten million rands to never come back and claim that Noria and Keith have to look after this child. I was six months pregnant when they told me this. 

I’ve cried. 

I’ve gone home and cried.

I’ve told Keith’s mother. 

I’ve told my mother.

My mother even stopped speaking to Keith’s mother… rallied the township and they called the Nkuna family trash! But I’m here and I need to make a plan with this child. 

I even got retrenched from work, so after this, I need to make a plan. Wandi said she’d hire me in her business until I have a plan. So, I’m grateful because what will I do unemployed and with a child? 

“Bassie?! Are you awake?” I hear someone say. 

It’s Sipho. 

He has always had the biggest crush on me. It’s actually weird. He also lives here with us in one of the rooms in Thebe’s yard. 

There are about twelve people that have hired rooms here. Two people are here with wives and children. I also don’t know how because it’s a one room. But they make it work. We all do. 

“Bassie?” Sipho. 

“Ngiyeza.” I say. 

I waddle to the door. 

Fortunately, I’m done showering. I’m even dressed up in my dress and am wearing slippers. 

I open the door for him. I’m too lazy to open the security gate, so I give him the key to open it himself. 

“Fede?” Sipho. 

“Hi Sipho”.

“Ugrand mntwana?” Him. 

Also, he’s quite…

How do I put it??? 

Ghetto.

He is wearing Converse sneakers, shorts, some t-shirt and a spottie. 

He works in the mines. He must be off today. 

I sit on the couch that’s in here. 

He walks in with food, puts it on the coffee table, then he brings in four boxes of stuff. 

“And then?” I ask him. 

“No phela mina ngithenge izinto for ubaby boy wethu.” He says. 

I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to do with this child after I’ve pushed it out of me. And I know I have to snap out of it and make a plan because okusalayo the baby is mine. But this is sweet. And I’m actually laughing already. That’s another thing about Sipho. He makes me laugh a lot. 

“So lena, bathi it’s a Bugaboo stroller. Yinhle neh?” He says as he opens it. It’s so beautiful, man.

“Isn’t that expensive?” I ask him. 

“Everything nice for ubaby boy wethu.” He says. 

I just laugh.

“This one is the cot eyihamba nayo. It’s a set yabo. Khona the part that attaches to the side of the bed ukuthi when we sleep, alale nathi ubaby boy. And then, khona le alala kuyo one man.” He explains as he unwraps all these things. 

Honestly, if he’s trying to get me excited about this baby, it’s working. He’s actually so sweet. I take him for granted a lot. I don’t even know why. Because he is good looking. 

He’s just…

Ghetto. 

“And then this one eyami neyakhe. When we give you a break yabo, I put him in here. Bathiit’s a kangaroo what what. Then I can walk naye everywhere. Plus, we don’t have a car yet. So, we need a strong stroller and a good baby carrier. Nazi, we are sorted.”

I just laugh. 

This is all so nice. 

“And this is a present for mami. Bathi it’s a stylish baby bag that also passes as a handbag. It has baby compartments and compartments for mommy’s things”, he says, giving me a bag. 

I’m actually so charmed.

He irritates me on an average day, but today, I’m charmed. 

“Ngiyabonga Sipho. This is so beautiful.” I say. I’m actually getting emotional.

“Ja man, eish. It’s just… you were so done. You’ve been down for some time now and angithandi. When Wandi told me what happened, I wanted to kill leya bhari jo. But it’s fine, he can fuck off. Mina nawe, we will make a plan. Together. Siyahlupheka. Sihlala ku-backroom. But God usiphe isipho esigrand blind. He knows his plans for us and all that stuff.” 

I just laugh.

He smiles at me.

“Idla nami ke.” I say. 

“Ey san, baby girl. Ngispana overtime vandag. Angisho manje I’m saving for ubaby boy. So, mina I brought you food ukuthi imama ibegrand. Ngizokubona when I knock off yeva? I’ll massage your feet and watch a movie with you.” He says. 

“Ngiyabonga Sipho. Kakhulu.”

He kisses my cheek. 

For the first time in history, I let him. And he’s so happy. 

“Shup neh“, him. 

“Shup.”

Then he leaves my room. He’s in his room for a few moments, then I see him walk out with a lunchbag and a backpack.

I see Wandi drive in with her Polo. Both she and her young and fabulous mother get out of the car. I’m watching some useless show on TV.

“Hey babe”, she greets me. 

“Hey Wandi. Sawubona mah“, me. 

“Kunjani ngane yami? You are looking more and more beautiful. Pregnancy really suits you”, Wandi’s mom says.

“Ngiyabonga mah,” I say.

“We brought you lunch. Come join us”, Wandi invites me. 

I hadn’t even eaten the food that Sipho had brought for me. And to be honest, when he buys me food, I get excited because he is aligned with my cravings. 

But let me not be rude. 

I make my way to Wandi’s room. 

My stomach makes me super slow. 

“Hlala phansi sisi, Wandi and I will dish up”, Wandi’s mom says.

I just smile and sit down. 

“Have you booked a bed yet?” Wandi asks me. 

“No. I don’t even know how it works at a public hospital.” I say. I don’t have medical aid. Keith and his wife were paying for the delivery of this child.

“I spoke to my dad. His colleague will deliver the baby for you. He said you should go see him so that they can schedule a c-section if need be”, Wandi says. 

“Ngiyabonga Wandi. Truly. For everything.” I say.

“You don’t deserve what Keith did to you. None of us think you deserve it”, she says.

“USipho yena has adopted my child already. He even bought me a stroller and a cot.” I say. 

Wandi and I look at each other.

Then we burst into laughter!

“He sounds like a nice boy”, Wandi’s mom says. 

“He is a nice boy shame. But he’s always liked Bassie. For him, he is seizing one hell of an opportunity”, Wandi explains as we laugh. 

After we laugh and as we start eating, I begin…

“Keith’s mother asked me to take the baby to her after its born. She’s even talking to my mom about ukuyihlawula le ngane“. 

Wandi looks at me. 

“And how do you feel about that?” Her mom asks me. 

“I don’t know, mah. I don’t know what to do. Yaz uKeith and Noria have just turned my life upside down nje. I don’t even know how to begin to pick up the pieces of what used to be my life. I’m so hurt. I can see why Noria did this. But Keith?”

“Noria is his wife, babe. Maybe he did it to make her happy.” Wandi says.

“They made me sign a contract that I wouldn’t have any claims or rights over this child. And I got used to that for the first six months of the pregnancy. Now they changed their minds. So they can breach the contact and I can’t. What are my rights in all of this?” I’m actually angry. I’m pissed. 

Wandi just hugs me. 

“At least ukhona uSipho”, Wandi’s mom says and we just laugh. 

…

I’m in my car. I’m parked at the corner of the street of where she lives. I see her walking with Wandi – her friend. They usually take a walk together around this time and they walk around the township. I watch them – her specifically. The mother of my son. She’s so beautiful. She carries my son so beautifully. I asked my mom to ask her family if the baby could be given to my mother after it’s born. I’ll help my mom raise it. I don’t want anything happening to my child. I want him raised properly. I’d even consider just going to my dad’s house in Giyani and raising him there. 

I know that Bassie will never forgive me for what Ria and I did. I know. But we have to find a way to raise this child together. I know I’ve hurt her. I just know. But I’ve hurt Noria even more. I owe her to not have a baby with Bassie. 

Ria and I tried for two years to have a child. We’ve gone to different doctors and different fertility clinics. When we decided that we would ask Bassie to do this for us, we had deliberated and thoroughly talked it through. It wasn’t easy for her to say yes to this. But having a child means everything to me. And she was prepared to give me what I wanted more than anything in the world. 

When Bassie got pregnant, she struggled a bit in the beginning stages of the pregnancy. So she needed me. I know she didn’t have a boyfriend or someone she was living with. So I’d spend time with her to take care of her. We never kissed. We never fucked. None of it. I was genuinely just helping her out. This was our baby and she was doing us a huge favour. 

Ria was not having it. We would fight every single day that I’d come home. Then one day, I caught her going through my phone and she saw a text I sent to Bassie: “You are looking gorgeous. My baby is doing you some favours and then some“. 

She assumed that I had caught feelings for her. Maybe I had.

But, I sent her that text because she was going through a phase where she was feeling extremely insecure. I had made it my mission to make her feel beautiful. And I do believe that she is beautiful. But Ria didn’t see it that way. 

She told me if I didn’t cut all ties with Bassie, she’d divorce me. She told me that I was punishing her for not being able to have kids. So… 

We are here today. 

I’m trying to save my marriage and I’m trying to have access to my child. I haven’t spoken to Bassie in two months. 

My cellphone rings. 

I look at it. 

It’s Ria. 

I decide not to answer it. 

I just lie back on my chair and start crying. This is my routine. I come here. I watch my child grow inside of Bassie, then I cry as I ignore my wife’s phone calls. 

It starts getting dark. 

So, I know it’s time to go home. 

I drive off and make my way to Hyde Park where I live with Ria. 

As I drive in, I notice that her Porsche is parked in the garage. She’s home. I can’t even get drunk and pretend to be sleeping before she gets home. 

“Hey babe”, she greets me. 

She’s happy today. 

I smile at her and say, “Hey”. 

“I made us dinner. I thought that we needed it after the past couple of months that we’ve been through. We’ve been through a lot, you know.” She says. 

“Yeah. We have. So has Bassie. I mean she now has to make a plan with a baby she hadn’t planned for. That must be really hard for her.” I say.

“Yeah well, we also gave her ten million rands to find ten million ways to make a plan. That money will look after her and that child until it’s at least five. After that, she should have come up with a plan.” She says.

“Are you not hurt? Like at all? I mean we planned for this baby for years. It’s not like we just woke up one day and did this. And in the space of two months, you’ve forgotten all about it?” 

“Well, you went and fell in love with our surrogate!” She snaps at me. 

“She had a difficult pregnancy. I was just there for her. She was doing us a favour. I did not fall in love with her.” 

“Well maybe she should have lost that baby!”

“How could you say that?” 

We look at each other. 

She’s getting angry now.

“I regret it, Keith. I regret asking her for her egg and using her as a surrogate. We should’ve used one of our helpers. Maybe that’s what we should do. It’s not too late.” She says.

“The baby that Bassie is carrying is of my sperm. I’m still its father.” I say.

She slaps me across the face then says, “Are you begging me for a divorce right now, you son of a bitch?”

“No. I’d never wish to divorce you. But I’m beginning to feel like I shouldn’t be choosing you over my son”, I say.

Yerrr! 

Her entire aura changes! 

I instantly leave the house because I know… I just know that the next step is for her to start throwing things at me and hurting me with that whip she bought and uses to discipline me when she doesn’t get her way. 

I’m driving to the office. I might as well just put in hours at work. 

I arrive here and I find that my PA is still here. 

I just greet her and get into my office. 

I undo my tie and sit on one of the couches in my office. I go onto Wandi_Buthelezi’s Instagram. Bassie doesn’t have an Instagram account, but she and Wandi are friends. I catch up with Bassie through Wandi’s account. 

I see pictures of them at Bassie’s baby shower. Wandi threw a baby shower for her. 

I see some scans that Wandi posted of the baby. I smile at them. 

Then I see that Wandi_Buthelezi is live. 

I watch the live. 

She’s at a hospital. 

“Hi guys. I just wanted to let you all know that a psychotic bitch just showed up where we stay and beat my friend up because apparently her husband is in love with her. Let me tell you the real story here because honestly, there has to be accountability for loose screwed insecure wives on this planet. This bitch and her husband asked my friend to be a surrogate for them and to donate an egg so they could have a baby. Six months into the pregnancy, they decide that they don’t want the baby anymore and my friend now has to become a single mother unplanned. This woman now comes here and beats up my friend! She’s at the hospital and we don’t know yet if she and the baby are okay. But I’m doing this live because Noria Nkuna doesn’t get to be anonymous. She’s the psychotic wife! Her name is Noria Nkuna and I beg that the police arrest her and make sure that my friend gets the justice she deserves. She was never her husband’s side chick. She’s never even touched that man before. How dare she! How dare she!” 

I’m already on my feet and am running to the car. I’m keeping the live going because I’m hoping that she will say which hospital they are in. I use my other phone to call the police. I actually lay charges myself. My son is not safe while Noria is roaming these streets. 

When I’m done speaking to the police, I phone Wandi via Instagram. She doesn’t even pick up. Okay, it has to be a hospital in the south. They wouldn’t go far. So I go on Google and start phoning hospitals.

Please let my son be okay.

Lord, please let my son be okay.