It’s my favourite time of the year. It’s Christmas. It’s family time. It’s time for my family and I to just love each other. This year, I took us to our family Christmas gift that I have been working on for the past three years. I bought land in Atlanta and started building our family holiday house there. I had it furnished, with Koena’s assistance because we all know that I’m not that hot when it comes to furnituring or designing the house’s interior. She was honestly such an amazing help. She hired a company to do it for me, but she oversaw EVERYTHING. I asked Msomi what a nice gift would be for her without being inappropriate. I would have loved to buy her a car, but she’s a married woman, you know. I have to respect her marriage and mine. But I just wanted something to show how grateful I am for this. Msomi didn’t think I needed to buy her anything, maybe just get her a mall voucher. I did get her a voucher, then I got the entire Msomi family an all-expenses paid trip to Mauritius. Msomi has been saying that they’ve been wanting to go there for a while but just never came around to going. They are going after Christmas and entering the new year from there. We will be right here in Atlanta. 

I wasn’t sure if Rofhiwa and her family would be able to join us. She is a married woman and she is a Mohale, so I’ve had to accept that she does things their way as Fikile is committed to being my wife before anything else. When I asked Reahile if they could spend Christmas with us this year, he didn’t even hesitate to agree. So, I let him in on the secret because he’s younger and probably more creative in getting the family there as a surprise. We actually bonded. I like him. I really do. I like how he respects Rofhiwa. I love and respect how he puts Rofhiwa and the twins first, no matter what. 

He even told me about one of his businesses with Remoletile Serame that is focused on systems and machine learning. That is a multi-billion business waiting to take off. I told him that NIR could potentially partner if he and his partner were interested. He literally dialled Remoletile right there and then and they both agreed. I spoke to Msomi and Fikile. The three of us decided, under Mfundo’s strict-and-impossible-to-manipulate financial systems, that we can invest ten million into that business. But we obviously want in. We want them to sit in the Johannesburg offices – they’ll sit in my pillar – and we want the full strategy of getting there. They are more than happy for this.

When we get back to South Africa, this is our top priority and they move into offices on the fourth floor with me. I also understand that Remoletile is moving his family up to Gauteng as well. 

We have a great year ahead. 

But first…

This morning…

I’m awaking up in my Atlanta house with all my kids here and my grandchildren – I include Reahile in the ‘all my kids’. Each and every person has their own room – including my grandchildren. I’m also here with my mother-in-law. 

I’m making love to my beautiful wife who makes this all possible. I love her with everything that exists inside of me. She’s now moaning and grabbing onto me. I release inside of her, leaving us both happy to start our Christmas. 

Good morning. 

…

I enter the living room where Reahile is sitting with my three boys and the twins. Ranwedzi is chatting his ear off and Gundo is asking him never-ending questions. Rendani is sitting on top of him, observing the conversations around him. The twins are in a playpen. It’s very warm in here. The fireplace is doing its job. There is a noise in the kitchen – Fikile, her mother and my two daughters are in there making a noise with laughter and conversation. 

“Good morning”, I greet. 

Fikile smiles at me as everyone else says hi.

She’s happy. I’m happy because my family is happy. 

“Reahile, let’s go to the bar.” I say. 

“Can we come with?” Rendani. 

“Children don’t go to bars.” I say.

“So why are you leaving us? Sit down, papa.” Rendani has the biggest mouth of all my kids. 

Now everyone stops what they are doing and they focus on our conversation. 

“I want to chat to your brother”, I say. 

“But he is sitting with us.” Rendani. 

Eish, this child. 

I choose to just sit on an available couch. 

“Papa, why can’t I sleep with you and kazi?” Not this again. I thought we were past this. Everyone else is laughing. 

“Because you are old now.” I say.

“I’m not old. I’m a baby. Sister Rofhi and brother Rea sleep with Mulalo and Mohau.” He insists.

“Because Mulalo and Mohau are babies.” I say. 

“Even when they visit us, you and kazi sleep with Mulalo and Mohau in your room. Why can’t I sleep with you?” So Rendani keeps score? 

“Rendani, you are old now. You will not be sleeping with your mom and I ever again. Can we never talk about this again?” I say. 

“But it’s not fair!” He says then throws himself on the floor. 

“Ey wena, Rendani. Umkami loyo! He said no. What’s your problem?” Fikile yells from the kitchen. Rendani is instantly deflated and doesn’t respond. 

I’m not sure if I should be offended that my kids are less likely to talk back when Fikile puts her foot down… with me, they walk all over me. Or am I getting too old too quickly? 

Breakfast is served and we are dining at our massive dining table. I’m sitting at the one end of the table and Reahile sits on the other end. Who would have imagined? Me? A grandfather and a father-in-law? This is a blessing beyond measure. Fikile serves me and Rofhiwa serves him. I wonder what Lydia would say. Our baby girl is a grown married woman with kids. She would be a grandmother. Fikile has done such an amazing job with both our girls. She’s a real superhero. 

Since the day I married Fikile, I’ve prayed everyday that I never bury her. Both my ex-wives have passed. When Lydia passed, I always thought I was being punished. My daughter was three. She was pregnant with my second child and I never got to even know whether it was a boy or a girl. She died with a child who never got to see life. There was a time where I even regretted marrying Lydia because I thought that had I stayed with Pearl, I wouldn’t have to bury a wife. Then I heard that Pearl died too. I accepted then that no matter who I were married to between the two of them, I was always going to bury a wife. 

Then one weird day at Eastgate Mall, I met Fikile. What I thought would be casual sex – as with many other women that I was seeing at the time – turned to be a woman who has made my heart full. I knew Fikile would be the rest of my life when I saw a partner in her. Pearl wanted leadership, but not her own thing. Lydia wanted success, but not her own thing. Fikile realized that no one would ever be good enough to be the boss of her in the professional space – not even me. And I found that sexy as hell. With her, I knew that should I die, my kids wouldn’t struggle. The Ramarus might kick her out of the business, but I believed that she’d have some sort of legacy where my name and lineage would live on. She did more than that. She helped me build something that will be exclusively for our kids and she helps me grow it into an even bigger giant by the day. 

Today, I’m watching them laugh and love each other at a table set before us – a table of love, full and abundant life… absolute blessings – a true consolation for everything that I’ve ever been through. My dreams have come true because of this amazing woman and I will never stop celebrating her. 

“Love?” Fikile calls me out of my thoughts. I smile at her. 

“Yes, my love?” Me. 

“We also have a gift for you.” She says. 

“You do?” Me. 

“Well, I have my own gift for you that I’ll give to you soon. But we have one for you that we collectively put together.” She says. 

I smile. 

She pulls me to the lounge area. There is a podium here and two boxes. One box is massive. One box is a bit smaller, but it is big. 

They make me sit down on a couch. Fikile’s mother sits next to me, smiling heavily. The twins are also then put on each of my laps. 

The first person to speak at the podium is Rendani. He’s on Reahile’s shoulders. 

“Papa, we have a Christmas gift for you because you are the best dad in the whole wide world. We want to say that we love you and we hope you like our gift because we had to work very hard to keep this secret. I would have told you, papa. But kazi threatened me.”

Everyone laughs. Even I laugh. Had I suspected that something is up, I would have actually squeezed it out of him. 

Gundo speaks next. He looks at Fikile and says, “Must I say what the gift is?” 

“No! Just say your three lines.” Khanyi says. 

I’m honestly in stitches. 

But Gundo then says, “Papa, you always do everything for us. You always work hard for us. Sometimes we are naughty, but you are still nicer to us than kazi.” 

Laughter fills the room. I can’t even be curious about the gifts because I cannot stop laughing.

Gundo continues, “Thank you so much, papa, for loving us so much. Thank you for our big home – even our home here in Atlanta – and for all our nice cars. Thank you for everything, papa.” 

Now I’m suddenly getting emotional. 

Ranwedzi speaks next. “Papa, I am your first son – well, before brother Rea came into our family. I remember being the only boy with sister Rofhi and sister Khanyi. You did everything with me. We had boys’ Sundays where you’d always ask me what I’d want you to leave me if you were to die one day. I always said I don’t know and I’d laugh. I think it’s because I didn’t know what you were asking me. But as we were putting this present together and we were all talking about what you mean to us, I realized what you were asking me then. Papa, I want you to leave me everything I’m going to need to be you. I want to be a man who loves his family like you love us. I want to be the man that you are – the epitome of what a man should be in this world. We love you so much, papa. And we just want to say thank you for being who you are to us and for our family. 

Now I’m really getting emotional. 

Reahile is the one who speaks next. Goodness. I’m not sure if I’ll make it to the last speaker at this rate. 

“The first time you met me, you wanted me dead.” 

That’s his opening line and it’s making me laugh again. I have tears and laughter all over me. 

“But you gave me a chance eventually. You gave me a chance as me and not as the son of a family you probably have every reason to dislike. Then you giving me a chance grew into you calling me your first son.” 

Now he’s getting emotional and it’s making me emotional. 

“Papa, that’s everything to me. I didn’t exactly grow up in a normal family setting and we all know how colourful my family is. But you let me in on the serenity of this family. You let me on the peace element of it, showing me everyday that if there’s one thing that’s worth fighting for, it’s the people you work the hardest for. Thank you being more than just a father-in-law to me. Thank you for letting me talk to you about Fifi at times and still telling me that she can be a bully, so I shouldn’t let her bully me.” 

The women laugh. 

“Thank you for loving me, papa. I honour you.” 

Okay, I can’t take this anymore. 

“We are not done”, Khanyi says. 

She’s definitely going to make me cry. I just know it. 

“There are some things that I’ll save for our daddy-daughter date – you know that’s where we really gossip.” 

I laugh. 

“Papa, I don’t have a lot of words. I mean… what do you say to a man who took you in before you were even two years old and gave you everything except his surname. I know that if you could, you’d make me a Ramaru in a heartbeat and you’d go to a lab to inject your DNA inside of me. Trust me, papa, I know. But honestly, blood couldn’t make us any closer. You are the man who’s led me into the business world. You are the man that taught me how to tie my shoelaces and brush my teeth. I was with you, watching a series you were tired of watching, but would watch anyway just for me, when my period visited me for the first time. You told me what it meant then gave me a cellphone with a YouTube channel of how to use a sanitary towel.” 

I remember that day very well. And I was scared of her after that. But I never told her that. 

“Papa, you are my dad. No one can tell me otherwise. Thank you for fighting with me and never reminding me, even in our fights, that you are not my biological dad. Thank you for loving me even when it wasn’t easy to love me. You opened so much more than your home to me. You opened your heart to me and today, I’m a woman well on my way to success and it’s because I’m in a family that is blessed enough to be led by you.” 

Okay, I’m falling apart now. 

I see Fikile kneeling in front of me now. Someone must have taken the twins from me. 

“Hey… look at me.” She says to me. 

I look at her. But my eyes are full of tears so my vision is blurry. 

She kisses me. Then she hugs me. I hold onto her. 

“Allow us to honour you. You know you led us here, right?” She says and I laugh. 

We come out of our hug. 

“We are almost done, I promise. Can you hang on for us?” She says.

I nod my head. 

She kisses me again, then she joins the kids again. 

Rofhiwa now speaks, “When mom died, I was three. I vaguely remember her, but I know she must’ve meant a lot to you because you could never truly let her go. But in that, you put it all aside and raised me. We had some interesting times!”

We both laugh.

“We trialled and errored everything – together. We got some things right, and some we decided to never speak about ever again.” 

We laugh again..

“But we come out okay – both of us. For a long time, it was just me and you and no matter what we went through, there has never been a time where I ever felt unloved by you. You are one in six billion, papa. I hear that men are trash. I was raised by God’s masterpiece. I’m Rofhiwa Ramaru before I’m anything else and papa, it has been an honour to have been raised by you. Not because you are the world’s greatest CEO or the world’s yummiest man alive.”

Rea and I both burst into laughter. She laughs too.

“But because your love has comforted me through lonely days, confusing days and days where I woke up to deliberately make the day hell for you. Of these kids, I gave you the most grey hairs and I know. But your love has always been consistent. Your love has been a lunchbox I’ve feasted on all my life and as your daughter, I’ve always stood on the strongest shoulders. Thank you for that kind of love, papa.” 

Eish, I can’t believe this. 

“If anyone would have told me that one day, I’d have six children and two grandchildren, I’d have laughed. When I met you, I had sworn that I’d never have children. Little did I know that God knows the plans He had for us. He strolled you into my life, a family man clothed in a business suit. A beast in the boardroom and a teddybear at home. A man whose family principles pulled me out of a dark time in my life and brought me into the light… raising babies and leading a business. I don’t know how I do it, Thomas. But I know if I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t be doing it at all. Today, we want to celebrate isikhundla sakho sobukhosi in our lives and in our family. As your wife, I thank you for our family and I thank you for loving us so beautifully and so unconditionally.”

I smile at her. 

Rofhiwa brings the smaller box to me. Fikile says, “This gift is our award that we present to you for all the titles that you wear in our lives: the best businessman we’ll ever know… a phenomenal born leader and a world class taught leader… indoda emadodeni… a husband that is God’s love letter to me, your wife… and a father who is nothing less than a force! A best friend to his kids and a role model to all that call you papa.” 

I open the box. It’s a portrait of me in a suit. But it’s sculpted in gold and in the shape of a trophy. All these things I’m being awarded for are engraved on it. It’s heavy. My hands are shaking as I receive it and my heart is beating faster than usual.

Reahile brings the second box. What could be better than this. I cannot keep my tears back. Fikile says, “You’ve always complained about my portrait at the top of our staircase.” 

Yes, because it’s just her and she’s in Zulu gear. I told her to get one of her in TshiVenda traditional wear.

“So, here is the portrait that will replace that one.” 

I laugh then open it.

I remember this photoshoot. This picture is wall-length. I’m sitting on a chair and Fikile sits on a grass mat at feet. She carries Rendani on her lap. Gundo sits on her left and Ranwedzi kneels on her right. Reahile is behind me in a suit too. He has Mohau in his arms. Rofhiwa stands next to me – on my right – carrying Mulalo – and Khanyi stands on my left with her hand on my shoulder. This is perfect. 

I stand up and give my wife one hell of a hug. I hug all my kids too. This is a blessed and merry Christmas. Choosing Fikile was the best decision of my life. Choosing my family everyday is my way of giving thanks to God for all of this… I’m assured of that in this very moment! 

…

My physio was intense today. I’m still crying. It’s been three months since Motshabi came into our lives. I’ve been more of a mother to her than what Humi has been. 

It’s Christmas today and she’s with me helping to prepare. Mama has gone to the mall for last minute shopping. I bought her a Christmas gift. I want her to feel loved. Because I do love her. And I’ll never say it to her, but she’s my daughter. Nnetse went with my mom to the mall. Nnetse is cool with Motshabi. She’s not motherly with her, but they are cool. 

I’m finally driving as well. So obviously after New Years’ Eve, I’m going back to Tholoana Kingdom. I want to ask Motshabi to go back with me, but I don’t know how to ask. 

“Motshabi, what are you going to do about school?” I ask her. 

“I quit school.” She says. 

This child! 

“You are not even of age to make that decision, so I’m not taking that seriously.” I say. 

“I don’t like school. And I’m too far from my old school.” She says. 

“Can I phone people in Tholoana Kingdom to help me get you into a school that side?” Me. 

“Like boarding school?” She asks me. 

“No. So, I’m better now. I want to go back to my life. My job is there as well. So maybe you can come with me.” I say. 

She looks at me. 

“Well?”

“Why do you love me so much? You know I’m not Phatsima, right?” 

“I know. But I think I can take you to be my daughter. I don’t know if Humi will ever take you from me one day. But, I want to take you and be responsible for you. We will fight. We will love each other. But most importantly, we will always have each other.” 

She gets emotional. 

“So? U reng?” I ask. 

She nods her head but doesn’t say anything. She runs out instead. I’ve learned that when she does this, she’s about to cry. I’ve also learned to give her space when she gets this way. 

I hear a knock on the door. 

“I’ll get it”, I hear Motshabi say. 

I let her get it. I continue with preparing the dessert.

“Abuti’Phathudi! Hi! And merry Christmas.” I hear her say. 

“Hello fourth Sedibe sister. Merry Christmas to you too.” Phathudi says. He calls her the fourth sister because of how much she looks like us. 

“I brought you and Tshepi Christmas gifts. I hope it’s okay”, he says.

“Sure, come in.” Motshabi. 

“Thank you.” 

“The Christmas gifts are under the tree. We haven’t opened them yet.” Motshabi says. 

“Cool.”

“Maybe you can stay for lunch and we all open the gifts together. Mamane and I got you something too. Plus, we are headed back to Tholoana Kingdom and – 

“You are what?” 

“Yeah. Mamane is taking me back with her to Tholoana Kingdom. She’s adopting me, but unofficially.” 

They are in the kitchen now. 

“Hi”, Phathudi. 

“Hey”, me.

Motshabi smiles at us. 

“You going back to that place?”

“My house is there. My job is there. My life is there.” 

“You can’t buy a house here? You can’t get a job here? Have you forgot that your life in Tholoana Kingdom – the one you are probably still running after – is what killed our daughter? Now you want to kill Motshabi too?” 

“That’s not fair, Phathudi”.

“We agreed –

“You don’t get to have a say in my life, Phathudi. At all. We are not together anymore.” 

“Tshepi, I thought we still had a chance.” 

“No, Phathudi. We don’t. You are a married man and I’m not going to be your second wife.” 

“If you leave, Retshepile… you are officially dead to me.” He says. 

“I’ll be sure to rest in peace.” 

He takes one long look at me then he turns around and leaves. 

Motshabi just looks at me.

We are now having lunch… it’s mama, Nnetse, Motshabi and I. Rehumile didn’t join us – her and the kids she’s chosen over her blood. 

We’ve opened gifts and we all love our gifts. It’s a merry Christmas. We are happy. 

“Mama”, I begin.

“Hmmm?”

“I drive back to Tholoana Kingdom on the 2nd of January. I’d like to take Motshabi with me.” 

My mom and Nnetse both look at me.

“Why?” My mom. 

“I want to be her mother”, I say. 

“I thought she could stay with me and I’d take over. I’ve raised three girls. I’d do okay with Motshabi.” My mom says. 

“Mama, I’ll make sure she comes over during school holidays. The schools that side are better and I think – 

“I want Motshabi to stay with me.” My mom. 

I take a deep breath. 

“Maybe we should ask Motshabi what she wants”, Nnetse says. 

We all look Motshabi. 

“Well, I thought I’d stay with mamane Tshepi and –

“It’s not that I don’t want you to go with her, Motshabi. Please don’t take me the wrong way. I just found you and it feels like I’m losing you all over again.” My mom says. 

“Mama, I didn’t mean to hurt you or catch you off-guard.” I say. 

“Retshepile, I’m worried about you. Motshabi isn’t Phatsima.” My mom. 

“Why does everyone feel the need to remind me that Phatsima is no more? I know that. I buried her. I was there. Phatsi is gone and I know that. Do I need to be reminded every day or every time I decide to be a mother again? Or keng? Because Phatsima is no more, I can never be a mother again?” 

I’m tired of this actually. 

“I’m just saying, Tshepi –

“No mama, Hai.”

I just get up and leave the table.

…

Motshabi and I have just arrived at my house. I’m so thankful for my domestic worker. She kept this place clean and fresh. I haven’t seen her in forever. She could have just about done anything here – hire people to rob me and all. But she just kept it clean then went back to her cottage outside. 

“Welcome home, baby girl”, I say. 

The drive did a number on me. My foot is even swollen and I’m limping again. But Motshabi is fourteen. She couldn’t drive us here. 

“This house is HUGE. I’ve always had to share a small bedroom with two or more people. Now, I get to just live here?” She really looks like she feels out of place. She won’t stop looking around her. 

“Well, there are three bedrooms here. I have mine. You can pick anyone for yourself. The last one will be a guest bedroom. My study is downstairs. It used to be a bedroom, but I converted it to a study.” 

She’s not even listening to me. She’s just taking this place in. 

“We have a domestic worker that lives in our cottage. You’ll meet her tomorrow.” I say. 

“I don’t like domestic workers. They are not nice people in orphanages.” She says. 

“Okay, but give Bettina a chance before you write her off. Please?” Me. 

The look she gives me is not assuring at all. I hope that I won’t have drama. 

“Let’s sit down, baby girl. We need to talk.” I say. 

She puts my arm around her neck and she lets me balance on her as we make our way to a couch that has a leg rest.

We sit and get comfortable. 

“Your TV is so big”, she says. 

Lol! It’s an 85inch. 

“Motshabi, how do you feel about staying with me?” I ask her. 

“I’m happy.” She says.

“Are you sure?” 

She nods her head. 

“Good. Because I really want this to work. I want the best for you and I’m going to work hard to make sure that you want for nothing. I’m going to need to trust you, Motshabi. You are going to be going to a school where the kids are different. They come from generational wealth and they’ll have things I cannot afford to give you. I’m sending you to that school because I want you to leave school on an equal standing with people like that. But always remember that I’m a single parent. I don’t have anyone looking after me. It’s just you and me. When I can afford things, I’ll do them for you. But when I cannot, I’m asking you in advance to please understand that my no is coming from a broken place because I probably will want to do that thing for you with all of my heart.” 

She nods her head. 

“I want you to have fun. I want you to enjoy being a child. Don’t feel out of place here. This is your home and everything I’m going to give to you, you are entitled to it. Just don’t become a brat.” 

We both laugh. 

“I also want you to heal, Motshabi. So, I’ve organised for you to see a psychologist.” I say. 

“I don’t need one”, she says. 

“Everyone needs one. Even people who haven’t gone through trauma need therapy. The world we live in is too much. We need to navigate so much outside of ourselves. It’s not possible to not need one.” I say.

“Does that mean you will also see one?” She asks me. 

I want to say no because I don’t think I need one. But let me not be a hypocrite.

“I will. At work, they provide psychological support for us. I’ll be going through it. Your school also has psychological support, but I’m not sure if you want to attend there or if you want to see someone off campus.” 

She takes a deep breath. 

“Well, your school forces everyone to see the school psychologists once a week. Let’s start there. Then if you need more sessions, you’ll get one off campus.” I say.

“What kind of school is this?” She asks me. 

“A very good school.” 

She giggles in disbelief.

“Motshabi, I’m doing this for the first time. We both are. I’ve never raised a teenager before and you’ve never been raised by me neither. We are both winging this, but let’s wing it together. Right now, I’m your best friend. At your age, I have to be your best friend. No one has your back like I do and that’s important that you know this. We are going to fight because we are different people and we are only coming into each other’s lives right now. But I’m expecting you to also understand that I’m the parent and you are the child. What I say goes. I’m not your friend, but I’m your best friend. Am I making sense?” 

She’s laughing.

“There should never be a day that you pack your things and go just because we had an argument. There should never be a day where you tell me I’m not your mother, just because we had an argument. You are stuck with me forever. I’m going to intentionally love the hell out of you. So I’ll be crazy sometimes and I’ll be protective all the time – especially because of how Phatsi died. Please let me.” 

She nods her head. 

“We are going to be great. Okay?” 

She nods her head then says, “I’ll agree to all of this on one condition.” 

Heh Banna! 

But let me humour this. 

“Okay?” Me. 

“You have to let me call you mom.” 

Why do I feel like crying? 

“That’s who you are to me. My mother.”

A tear escapes my eye.

I hug her. She holds on tight to me. 

I try to make light of the situation and say, “As long as you never ask me for your daddy, because chile… I don’t know.” 

We laugh. 

We make our way upstairs and we spend a few hours unpacking our things. She chose Phatsima’s bedroom and I’m actually okay with it. We then treat ourselves to a movie in my bedroom and pass out around 1am. 

Today, we are at this school for her orientation. She’s left with the other grade 8s and I’m in the uniform shop getting her uniform. From here, we are both going to do something about our hair. She must choose between braids and cornrows because it is school. With all these rules about hair, that’s all she can do. My hair is slightly growing back, so I’ll do braids to be neat and ready for work. 

I pay for her uniform – buying school shoes here as well. 

“How long will this orientation be?” I ask one of the teachers here. 

“We’ll be done at 2pm.” She says.

It’s 11am now.

“Thank you”, I say. 

I take the uniform and make my way to the car. I have two hours to kill, so I decide to go face my demons. I need to. 

I arrive at this club – yes, that one.

It’s during the day, so it’s mostly quiet. 

As I walk in, I see the infamous Zithulele Khuzwayo speaking to staff, and part of staff is that Tumi guy. I remember him. 

They notice me and they both tense up. 

Zithulele excuses the staff, then he and Tumi approach me. 

“Can we talk in my office?” Zithulele, no hi or anything… just straight to the point.

I look at the staircase. I look at my foot in a moonboot. They also see my stress. 

“We will use the elevator. But we can’t talk here.” Zithulele says. 

Fair enough. 

We use the elevator, and we are in his big ass office in no time. 

“Please, have a seat”, Zithulele. 

“I’m not here for niceties. I’m here to tell you that you have nothing to worry about. I won’t speak of what happened to me in this club. But I have an ask.” 

Zithulele folds his arms and focuses on me. I focus on him because the Tumi guy comes across as an amateur. He is so scared he could literally shit himself right now. 

“My eight-year-old daughter was raped and killed. The thought alone turns my stomach. I’ve had to deal with it – begrudgingly so. Then I was violated in the worst way in here. So, I’m not naive about the precariousness of a woman in this country – especially to powerful men such as yourself, not your skivvy over there. I have a fourteen-year-old daughter that’s living in this place with me now. And I’m going to show you her photo. You are going to make sure that nothing happens to her. Nothing. If she so much as comes home with a scratch on her baby toe, I’m throwing the police’s scent this way. Trust me, a few are hungry for you. They bombarded me a lot when I was in hospital.” 

They are still quiet.

I take out my phone and show them a picture of Motshabi. Then I say, “She’s off limits. That’s all I ask.” 

They still don’t say anything. 

I just limp my way out of this office.