I woke up at 2am and studied this morning. I knew I needed to be done by 7am so I can go into the office and put in my overtime, standing in for one of my team members.
I have just arrived at the office is very quiet. It’s 8am, so people are not here yet. People generally start arriving at 9am.
I start preparing my scripts to run so that I can put together my stats and send out for comms. If I can get out of here by 11am, it would be great.
We’ve been invited to the Tloung wedding and it starts at 3pm. I’m so grateful it starts late.
Yesterday, we were at Yaya’s son’s birthday party. It was cute, shame. The kids had a day jam-packed with activities. They created a whole obstacle course for the kids and they had so much fun. There was also painting involved and chef classes where kids made pizza. The kids left the party asleep over their parents’ shoulders.
Thuli did good. The mother of the child was there too. She and Thuli don’t get along at all. But Thuli loves that child and she made sure that the Ndalo baby-mama knew whose house she was in. Yaya conveniently didn’t get involved. I went with Mo and we took his young siblings. We were parents in that regard. Rea didn’t go because he had to work on his dissertation and he had a meeting with his supervisor regarding the dissertation. Yes, he does weird things like have breakfast meetings – at The Sip & Read – with his supervisor to discuss that dissertation of his that keeps him anti-social. We only see him when he plays games, goes to practice or if Rofhiwa is around and they go out together.

My phone buzzes. It’s a call from Mo.
“Hi”, me.
“Hey babe.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m inside your res room. You are not here. Where are you?”
“At work.”
“But we have to go to the Tloung wedding”, he says.
“I know. And I’ve told you that I was going to study early, come into work, knock off at 11am then meet up with you so we can leave. That’s why I had our outfits delivered yesterday. Do you ever remember anything after a night with your sluts?”
He is quiet.
“Why are you phoning me, Mohato?” I ask him.
“Why are you so upset?”
“Because you are annoying me. I’ve been busy with books and work because I don’t have parents ready to catch me if I become a flop. You’ve been out and about with sluts posting you all over social media because you can more than afford to be a fuck up and you’ll still be fine. So excuse me if I don’t have time for your self-absorbed shit today.”
He’s already hung up.
Asshole!

People arrive around 9am and find me well within my work. At 10am, reception calls me to tell me that Mohato is downstairs. I don’t even go downstairs. I’m not in the mood. I’m already going to be stuck in a car with him for two hours. He phones me and I don’t answer his call.
At 11am, I pack up my things and make my way downstairs, ordering a taxi.
I see Mo chilling at reception. Wow, he waited. Lovely. I cancel the taxi.
He stands up as he sees me approaching reception. He meets me halfway and holds my laptop bag for me. Now, I just have my handbag. He hugs me. I return the hug half-heartedly.
He actually opens the door for me when we get to his BMW X5. Now he’s in the car too and we sit in here for a while before he starts the engine.
“Zar, what’s going on? Why are we fighting?” He starts.
I throw myself in the seat and tell him that, “I think we should break up.”
He’s not even moved. He just says, “Why?”
“Because I can’t do this anymore, Mohato.”
“What can’t you do?”
“This. I know when we started dating we agreed that it would be casual and we’d be allowed to see other people.”
“Precisely why I don’t understand why you behave the way that you do these days.”
“Well, I don’t want that anymore. I’m in love with you and I’m tired of sharing you. If we can’t be exclusive, I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
He starts the car’s engine and drives off.
The drive is quiet. I’m looking out of the window and he’s just focused on the road. We don’t even have music playing.

We get to Rofhiwa’s apartment. We park outside then he calls Rea to tell him that we are outside. As we wait for them to come out, he says…
“So, when did you decide that you want us to be exclusive?”
“A while ago. I get hurt now when you are with other women.”
“So why are we only talking about this now?”
“If you can’t give me that, let’s leave it alone. Let’s break up.”
“You are not answering my question. Why are we only discussing this now?”
“Because I didn’t know how to bring it up with you.”
“So, you don’t know how to talk to me now? I thought we were more than that.”
“We are. That’s why it’s not easy for me to have you be with other women. I want it to just be me, or we end the relationship.”
“I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want us to break up.” He says.
“But you cannot let your sluts go?”
“I can. And I will. I just want you to talk to me, Zar. There’s no need for you to act up before you address shit with me.”
I don’t know how to feel. I didn’t expect this.
“Really?”
He smiles at me… but it’s the sly smile.
Rofhiwa and Rea come towards the car.
“Imagine us fighting before a wedding? Come on now, babe.” He says.

I sit at the backseat with Fifi. Mo is driving and Rea is on the passenger seat. They are talking about their own things and Fifi is on her phone. I decide to take a nap. I’m feeling tired anyway and I have one of my fleece throws in here.
As I’m dozing off, the Bluetooth connected cellphone rings and Rea is the one who answers it, still via the Bluetooth connection hands free option.
“Hey pops”, Rea.
“Reahile, where are you guys?”
“We are on our way to Senthomele for the Tloung wedding”, Rea.
“We need you guys to come to the royal house.”
There is instant and tense silence. I’ve never been to the royal house. Judging by Fifi’s expression, neither has she.
“Reahile?”
“Ah, pops… we are with our girlfriends.” Mo.
“Mohato, don’t tell me about girlfriends. Just get here.”
The line goes dead.
Eh!
“Can you leave us at Reahile Restaurant while you go?” I ask.
“Please”, Fifi.
The twins don’t say anything.

We do get dropped off at the restaurant and make our way in as the twins go attend to whatever they need to attend to at the royal house.
It’s just Fifi and I and we order meals.
As we wait for them to arrive…
“Are you and Mo okay? He called Rea earlier saying that you weren’t talking to him and he wasn’t sure if you guys would still be going to the wedding”, I did not expect Fifi to be having a conversation like this with me.
“Mo is so dramatic. I was at work.” I say.
We both chuckle.
“It’s just that we’ve had an open relationship from the beginning of our relationship. And it was more for him than it was for me. I never saw anyone else outside of him, but he really took the card and ran with it. I don’t feel like I can still share him. I get hurt now when I suspect that he’s cheating on me. I love him.”
She gives me a weird look. Does she know something that I don’t?
“And have you told him?”
I nod my head.
“What did he say?” She asks me.
“He said that he would stop seeing other people and focus on us.”
She gives me a look, but nods her head.
“What’s up? Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I ask her.
She shakes her head and says, “No reason. I’m glad you spoke to him and you do deserve him being faithful to you. You are very loyal to him and it’s beautiful.”
She didn’t come to Thuli’s step-son’s party and people were offended.
“Fifi, the ladies would like you to try with them.”
“Ladies?”
“Yeah. The WAGs.”
She starts laughing. Why is she laughing?
“I know their men are staff members to your family business, but they like you and it would be very human of you to just give them a chance.”
“Hai mahn, I’m not interested. I have enough problems on my table. My parents are coming to this wedding and they are not happy about my relationship with Rea. So while they are holding their breaths about being liked by me, I actually have to address more serious issues.”
I don’t know how I’m feeling right now.
“They think you think you are better than us. Being WAGs is a big deal to some people”, I say.
“What exactly is expected of me?” She says.
I look at her because she’s making me feel as if anything I’d say right now would be regarded as stupid.
I’m saved by her eyes wondering in shock, almost surprised to see someone she wasn’t expecting to see.
“Rofhiwa?” A very attractive man who looks just like her says. Oh, it’s Mr Ramaru. I’ve only ever seen him on TV, magazines, newspapers and digital media platforms. He looks yummier in real life. My thighs are feeling rather sweaty.
A group of people walk to where we are sitting.
“Hi, papa. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Rofhiwa says in a shaky voice.
“We came for the Tloung wedding. We stopped here to eat. We are hungry. What are you doing here? I didn’t know you had work for the team.” The dad.
“I’m also here for the wedding.” Fifi says.
“I don’t have a date. Maybe you can be my date”, Mfundo Msomi says jokingly. Everybody knows who this guy is.
Rofhiwa uncomfortably responds saying, “Uhm…”
“Baby… sorry we kept you waiting. We can leave now.” Rea says to Rofhiwa.
When did he get here?
Oh, Mo is here too.
“Baby?” Mr R.
Yoh!
Rofhiwa looks like she wants to faint.
“Reahile Mohale. I’m Rofhi’s boyfriend.” Rea says, extending his hand. It’s the audacity for me.
“Ey wena! Who the fuck do you think you are talking to?!” Mr R has snapped.
Rofhiwa is now on her feet, standing between Rea and her dad. Mrs R is standing next to Fifi, slightly pushing Mr R away from Rea. I’m also standing up, standing behind Mo because Mo has stood up to the dad.
“Is there a problem here?”
Suddenly there’s security and the Mohale dads.
“Fiks, is that you? Hey.” One dad says, happy to see Mrs R. She’s also another one that I’ve seen everywhere except in real life. Fifi is actually from one hell of a household. Maybe that’s why she’s so removed from being human.
“Khotso. Ona. Hi. Good to see you. The king thing looks good on you. But why is your son running around with my daughter?”
She’s Rofhiwa’s mother? What?! I always thought that Mrs R was her step-mother. Or is this a Thuli and Yaya’s kid situation?
“The kids are having fun, Fiks. Come on.”
“Is this funny to you?!” Rofhiwa’s dad.
Silence.
“Rofhiwa, vha khou ita mini?” The dad.
Rofhiwa replies and they have an entire sidebar conversation in tshiVenda next to us. No one catches what they are saying, but the convo is tense because the dad is angry and Rofhiwa is crying.
“We are going home. Now!” The dad.
Rofhiwa nods her head.
“But –
“Excuse me?!”
Is Rea mad?!
“Reahile!” The one dad says then shakes his head.
“You stay away from my daughter!” Rofhiwa’s dad says, taking threatening steps towards Rea.
“Watch yourself!” The one dad.
“Ona!”
“Nah, Khotso! That’s my son he’s talking to… a prince he’s threatening. Did Fiks not brief her geyser that shit like this can get him killed? She was in your bed long enough to know this!”
HAI! Wait until the WAGs hear about this!
There’s just a tense silence now. Tense, I tell you!
“Baby. Fifi. Let’s go.” The mother says, getting her man and child out of here.
“I’m going to kill you wena!” Rofhiwa’s dad says to one of the dads.
“Do you have a death wish?” The dad.
“For my wife and daughter, yes!” The dad.
“Chief, let’s go” Mthunzi Msomi pulls Rofhiwa’s dad away.
“Ona, let this go”, the other dad.
Finally, people part ways.

…

“Good morning gorgeous – my Mrs Tloung to be”, Dikwe greets me over the phone as I answer his call.
The journey to this day has been insane. Any woman marrying into polygamy may have her own story to tell about it, but I wish I were prepared for the backlash – not just from his children, but from his two existing wives and my children too. My four daughters did not even want to be my bridesmaids. I had to beg Khosi to convince them into doing this. Khosi was only willing because she believes that my marriage to Dikwe will solidify Tee-le’s position in the NFR Legends team.
My wedding almost did not even take place because the first wife was adamant that I am not welcome into the family. Sadly, my daughters will not become Tloung daughters. They have not been welcomed into the family. It hurts me to my soul that there will be a difference between my four daughters and the one on the way.
“Good morning, Tloung. Are you ready for today?” I say with no emotion attached at all.
“You don’t sound okay. What’s wrong?” He asks me.
“I am concerned about what will happen to my daughters now that I have chosen you over being their mother”, I tell him.
He sighs.
“Don’t say that, Mandi. You haven’t chosen me over being their mother.”
“I have. If I had chosen to be their mother, I would not be seeing this wedding through.”
“But Mandi, they have a family. Yes, their father has passed away. But the Ndlovu family is still their family and that is very critical to their identity. Even if we go and ask them to change the girls’ surname from Ndlovu to Tloung, do you really think that they will say yes?”
He has a point. I just sigh.
“What do you need me to do?” Dikwe asks me.
“I need to, at least, live with my children, Dikwe. I cannot live with you and this child on the way while my kids live in the township with my mother. I am not going to marry you if the trade-off is letting go of being a mother to my kids. They may not be yours, but they are mine”, I say.
“Baby, I will speak to Mmamello and Tshianeo. I will ensure that the kids stay with you, have a relationship with all the other kids and even attend family events. You know that I regard them as my own.” He says.
And he does, shame.
Mmamello (fondly known as Meme) is Dikwe’s first wife. Tshianeo (fondly referred to as Neo) is Dikwe’s second wife. I like Neo better. She is a Venda princess who is not about Meme’s nonsense and insecurities. She seems to know how to get Dikwe to do just about anything that she requires of him. When Dikwe introduced me to her and Meme, she was so unfazed. I can see why she is so unmoved by Dikwe’s infidelities and continuous marriages; Dikwe loves her the most. Dikwe has this special place in his heart for her. He looks at her in a way that he does not look at Meme, or myself, or any other woman for that matter.
“Thank you. I would really appreciate that. Let me wake up and start getting ready, baby. I will meet you at the altar”, me.
We conclude the call.
I wake up.
It is my wedding day.
…
“Mama, uncane is asking if you are ready for your make-up?” That would be my eldest daughter, Charity, asking on behalf of Khosi (whom my daughters refer to as ncane). Khosi organised me a make-up artist for the day. She is so sweet.
“Yah, I am ready. Are you and your sisters done with your make-up?” I ask her.
“Yes, we are done”, Charity responds.
My bridal party consists of my four daughters (Charity, Sethunya, Leleti and Ntombi) and my sister, Nobukhosi. Dikwe booked us into the lodge that he and I will be getting married at. Khosi has her own suite because her man, Remoletile, spent the night.
Things have been a bit rocky between the two of them as of late. Dikwe is the father to one of Tee-le’s teammates. Dikwe’s children do not approve of my relationship with Dikwe. I believe there have been times where Dikwe’s son took out that frustration on Khosi and Khosi did not live it down. She sliced him up and threw him in the bin. This caused tension in the team and naturally caused tension between Tee-le and Leruo (Dikwe’s son). This also caused tension between Khosi and Leruo’s wife, Paula. In the end, it strained the relationship between Khosi and Tee-le, so I could not say no to him staying over last night. I strongly believe that this will help them remember why they love each other so much.

“Makoti!” Khosi comes in screaming.
She comes in with a group of elders and my daughters. It is an event of singing and ululating in my room. I am suddenly overwhelmed with so much anxiety. I run to the toilet and throw up. I hear the door close behind me and I feel someone hold my hair back as I throw up. She makes sure that I do not mess up on my dress. The joys of being a pregnant bride.
As I recover from the throwing up, Khosi sits with me.
“Do you enjoy being pregnant?” she asks me.
“It’s a beautiful experience characterised with its own version of ups and downs. Some days are better than others, but having a supportive partner is everything when you go through the experience. You will also experience it for yourself one day”, I tell her.
“I’m trying for one; Tee-le and I are trying”, she says.
“Wow babe. That is huge. You and Tee-le are clearly serious about each other. One day, I will be your stroll-meisie at the rate that things are going between the two of you”, I tell her. I am genuinely happy for her.
“I hope so”, she says with no emotion at all.
“And that?” me.
“I don’t know, Mandi. Tee-le is on my case about a child, but he isn’t keen on marriage at all”, she tells me.
“So you are willing to keep birthing children for him? Stop it Khosi. You are not a professional at giving birth. If he wants a child, he must make an honest woman out of you”, I tell her. Who does this boy think he is? Is he trying to turn my sister into a professional baby-mama?
“Mandi, you have been married before. You are getting a second chance at this marriage thing with Tholoana Kingdom’s eligible billionaire. You can afford to be meticulous and create your own rules along the way. I am still the unmarried pretty sister who has been a girlfriend for more than a year. People get married within six months. Maybe if I do get pregnant, give him this child that he wants so badly, he will put a ring on it”, she says.
“Khosi, that’s not how it works, sis’ wami. If this man wants to marry you, he should want you in your purest form – without the child”, I tell her.
Khosi just looks at me.
“Do you think this has something to do with Sizwe?” I must ask.
“What about Sizwe?” she asks me.
“The two of you were engaged and you left him because he was down and out. Maybe Tee-le fears that you will do the same to him”, I say.
Khosi does not even look at me. She is just shaking.
“Khosi, I think you need to sit your man down and talk him through how you feel. If you settle prior to that conversation, you will have done yourself the worst disservice ever”, I tell her.
There is a slight knock on the door. The door is pushed open and Tshianeo Tloung walks in – Dikwe’s second wife. Khosi is confused and ready to be rude to defend my honour. I stand next to her and we hold hands.
“Ndi matsheloni avhudi, MaThabethe”, Neo greets me with the warmest smile on her face.
“Hi”, I say. I am no Venda expert.
“You look beautiful. You are a breath-taking bride”, she says.
This is very awkward.
“I just wanted to come by and wish you all the best for the day ahead. Dikwe is very happy to be bringing you into our family and I want you to know that you have my blessing… not just for the wedding, but for bringing in your daughters as well. Dikwe told me about your concerns and I fully support that you need to be a mother first before you are a wife. Everyone else will just get with the programme eventually”, she says.
This woman is incredible. I hate that she is so beautiful.
“Thank you very much, Neo”, I say. I am so humbled and she can see it.
“Let’s do lunch when you and Dikwe come back from Greece for your honeymoon. I’d really love to get to know you better”, she says.
“I’d really love that”, I say.
“I brought you a gift. Dikwe’s mother gave it to me when Dikwe and I got married. It’s old and blue. I don’t know if you do the white wedding traditions, but if you do, you can see it as something old and something blue. Your sister will give you something borrowed and something new to complete the sequence”, Neo says as she hands me a box.
I take the box from her and I open it. It is a hair clip with blue pearls. It is beautiful.
“This is beautiful. Thank you very much, Neo”, I say.
“Mashudu mavhuya, MaThabethe. Vha vhe na duvha lavhudi” (All the best MaThabethe. Have a great day), she says.
I smile. I feel like I am in an episode of Muvhango… you know those episodes that confuse all of us where someone from KZN will be having a conversation with someone from Venda and they both understand each other FULLY! Njani?! Neo smiles at me too. She leaves.
Khosi grabs the clip from me saying, “uzaze uthelelwe izikhwakhalala zaseVenda. Lahla le nto” (You will find yourself carrying bad luck and bad jujus from Venda. Throw this thing away).
“Hai bo, Nobukhosi”, I exclaim.
“You will thank me later. You don’t just accept things from people – especially your husband’s wives. You are pregnant, Mandisa. You will have bad luck and wonder where it all comes from. Come on.” Khosi.
I just chuckle. I cannot even deal with this one. I am definitely giving Neo a chance.
…

Dikwe’s and Mandisa’s wedding was beautiful. All three of Dikwe’s weddings were beautiful. I attended each one with my man, the captain of the NFR Legends, Yaya Mbatha. I am Thuli Mabote – the fiancé to the captain of the NFR Legends.
Yaya and I dated for six months and have been engaged for six years. I have no idea what it is that he is waiting for. I wear his ring with so much pride, yet he has not even contacted my family or arranged for abakhongi to meet so that I can officially be Mrs Thuli Mbatha.
He takes me to all these beautiful weddings and with each one, he seems furtherer away from being committed to me. I have been with Yaya before he was even the superstar soccer player that he is today; I am not here for his money or status at all. I have tried to talk to him, trust me I have tried. However, Yaya is so unfazed about it. All he cares about is his baby mama (who he claims he is invested in purely because of his son). I do not buy it. I have been suspecting for quite some time now that there is more going on between Yaya and his baby mama – Ndalo. He denies it all the time.

We came back from Dikwe’s wedding and passed out. It has been an eventful weekend and Yaya needs his rest for training that is happening in the next two days.
After a heavy three hours of sleep, a dashing knock on the door disturbs both Yaya’s and my sleep. I jump out of bed in shock only to find Yaya already walking to the door. The rain, lightning, and thunder raging outside the window are all just as dramatic and frightening as the knock. I get out of bed and follow Yaya to the door. Yaya is dressed in tracksuit pants and no t-shirt while I am dressed in Yaya’s t-shirt and no pants. Not the greatest sight but hey – it is 4am in the rainy morning. What is the unexpected guest expecting? A welcome to our home party?
Yaya opens the door and finds that it is his ex-fiancé and mother-of-his-son, Ndalo Manzini, holding their son and crying against the weather. I think about taking the baby from her, but then I remember that these kinds of parties are not as easy as we wish for them to be. I think about leaving them alone to have their moment, but my insecurities overwhelm me.
Please note that I am the one who was cheated on when this baby was conceived.
I look at Uyanda whose face reads exhausted, angry, and ‘I’m waiting for an explanation’. I cannot say that I missed the obvious impact that this young woman, Ndalo, still has on Uyanda. It is a bittersweet truth to swallow for me.
I invite her in. Ndalo did not expect that kind of reaction from me. I can just see it. She has mixed feelings between being rude and spiteful or just accepting my gesture and hoping that it is sincere. Ndalo walks in and Uyanda grabs his son from her – who is wet and cold, but quiet – no crying at all. Uyanda disappears for a while. When Ndalo and I hear the water running, we both mentally and silently conclude that Yaya is bathing the baby to keep him warm.
“Would you like some coffee to keep warm perhaps?” I offer her.
“No, thank you. I would rather just take a shower and go to bed. Uyanda and I have some talking to do in the morning”, Ndalo replies, deliberately being disrespectful. She sits down on the couch and switches on the TV. I scratch my head as baby mama shows me who is who in Yaya’s life. This is very awkward.
“Going somewhere?” Ndalo nonchalantly asks, noticing the bags scattered across the carpet.
I spot an opportunity to be just as much of a bitch as she is.
“Not really, just moving in”, I say and turn around to search for a light snack in the fridge. My legs feel cold all of a sudden. I am reminded that I am not wearing any pants. I close the fridge and decide to go and search for some pants in the bedroom. As I turn around, my eyes lock with Ndalo’s hurt face staring at me. I just give her one skemp look and choose to go about my early morning.
I look for pants in Uyanda’s cupboard. I find some cool blue tracksuit pants and wear them. Uyanda walks into the bedroom from the bathroom with baby Phendulile wrapped in a towel and cuddled on his bare chest. His eyes lock with my eyes.
“And then?” I break the awkward silence.
“She has my son. What do you expect me to do? Kick my son out into the rain?” Uyanda.
“Don’t be like that. You know that is the last thing that I expect of you. Phendu is not close to being the issue here. I am asking you what the plan is with Ndalo for the night?” me.
Uyanda ignores me and plays with Phendu – deliberately avoiding having to answer me. There is a knock on the door then Ndalo lets herself into the bedroom. Uyanda and I look at her.
“I have had a really long day. I was hoping that my son and I could please get some rest”, Ndalo.
“Where?” me.
“In this bed. To be honest with you Thuli, I had no idea that you would also be here tonight. You are never here when I come, soooo…” Ndalo.
“Of all the rooms in this big-ass estate house, you choose to sleep in the main bedroom where my fiancé and I sleep?” I ask her. Who does she think she is?
“I always sleep in here. I am Phendulile’s mother. This is my room. You being here and acting dramatic is not going to change that”, she says.
I look at Uyanda.
“I hope it isn’t a problem, Yaya… I mean you usually just let me sleep here with Phendulile. Now that Thuli is moving in, I don’t know how this is going to work”, Ndalo continues.
She realises that my ‘unable-to-hide-emotion’ face keeps changing as words keep bouncing off her lips. I eventually reach for my cellphone and decide to call a hotel and book myself in it. I am not equipped to deal with such nonsense so early in the morning. This is obviously deeper than I have believed it to be and I would rather just excuse myself and let Uyanda deal with it accordingly instead of embarrassing me any further with his silence.
The most painful silence of the night was when he did not even stop me from leaving in such weather, at such an hour, and in the dark. That cut me unbelievably deep.
…
I took a meter taxi to a hotel in Tau from Yaya’s place. It is about five minutes away. I chose not to drive because the weather is bad and my BMW M2 is quite low, so any potholes or mistake on the road can mess up my car big time.
Unfortunately, one of the characteristics of this pain that I am feeling is that it takes over everything: your sleep, your appetite, your ability to control your thinking, your paranoia, your insecurity, and even your response to the environment around you. I tossed and turned all night, becoming more furious by the minute as Uyanda failed to even check whether I am safe or not, whether I am okay or not. With everything that was going through my mind, I suddenly concluded that my relationship with Uyanda is over. How can he say he has a fiancé when he could not even be bothered about how I am on a rainy early morning?

After a long sleepless morning, I decide to take a shower and dress my exhausted self up in blue denim jeans, a white long hemp, and white pumps. Considering that the rain is still vicious, I throw a light white cardigan over my outfit and booked myself into a spa. Upon my arrival, I glance at my phone in hope that there will be some form of communication from Uyanda; NOTHING!
“Bloody bastard”, I think to myself. Tears form in my eyes. I refuse to let them fall. I put my cellphone in my bag and decide to wait to be attended to. However, as I shut my eyes and relax on the chair I am sitting on, my stomach tightens up and my chest becomes heavy. My throat catches the biggest lump you can think of and a pain that King Lear must have experienced when his heart exploded from pain overwhelms me. The tears pour down my face. I open my eyes and quickly clean my face with the aid of my hands.
“Miss Mabote?” A gentle voice calls me back from my moment.
I smile at the woman with the tag that reads “Promise”.
“My name is Promise. I will be performing your facial today and my colleague, Nonhlanhla, will perform your full body massage. Please follow me to the changing rooms so that you can change into a gown and get comfortable”, Promise.
“Thank you”, I say as I stand up from my seat and follow Promise.
I glance at the phone one more time. This time, I go onto WhatsApp to check Uyanda’s last seen. I realise that he is online. My heart accepts the stab that this comes with. As I lock my phone while walking, a vibration through my phone makes me hopeful that Uyanda finally texted me; at this point, I will even accept a mere hi. It is not Uyanda. It is my cellphone network informing me about data specials.
I just delete the sms and begin my spa day with a painful heart.
…
After my well-deserved spa day, where I even ended up falling asleep, I decide to take my rejuvenated self to Uyanda’s flat. He opens the door after two knocks and he is somewhat shocked to see me.
“Hi”, I begin.
“Hey”, he responds.
“You going to let me in?” I say.
He lets me in.
He closes the door behind me and I take a seat on the couch, suddenly feeling like a visitor. He sits next to me.
“Everything okay with Phendu?” I ask.
“Yeah. He is actually sleeping in the bedroom”. He tells me. Great! That means Ndalo is still here too.
“And Ndalo?” I ask.
“She left. She had places to go and people to see”, he says.
“And you didn’t care about me leaving here late at night? You couldn’t call or even text to check if I were okay? Had it been Ndalo, you would have bent over backwards to –
“Stop right there”, he interrupts me. “Don’t come in here and talk shit to me. The only reason I check in on Ndalo and her well-being is because 90% of the time, she is with my son.”
“That excuses you not caring enough to talk to me since I left? Ngoba mina I am not always with your son or because I didn’t leave with your son, you care less about me?” I angrily and rhetorically ask.
“Why did you even leave? You let Ndalo kick you out of your own home, then you come here and tell me that I should have handled the situation differently? That time you say that you are ready to be my wife.” Uyanda.
“What?!” Thuli.
“First of all, don’t raise your voice, my son is asleep. Secondly, you need to decide whether you are here to stay or not. This is the reality of my life. Ndalo is the mother of my son and she will always be a problem for you. You need to decide if you are here to stay or not. You need to decide if you will be constant in Phendulile’s life or not. If you are going to be in my life – be in my life. And if you choose to stay, I need you to be stronger and deal with issues a little bit better”.