Tee-le, Khumo and I are driving back home from the mall. We decided to watch a 6pm movie because Khumo forced us to. It was actually such a nice evening. We watched the movie in a Prestige cinema. Tee-le fell asleep, so it was just Khumo and I watching the film. 

“Baby, what are those?” I ask, looking ahead and noticing road works, getting a bad feeling at the same time. 

“Road works”. 

“They weren’t there when we were driving to the cinema.” I say. 

We cannot even turn around. He’s also changing.

“Khumo, unbuckle yourself and come to me quickly!” I say. 

Khumo immediately does as I say. 

I take what I can and put it in her baby bag. 

Tee-le slows down the car, but it’s too late.

People knock on our windows with guns. 

“Tee-le, don’t fight them. Just give them what they want. I’m pregnant and we need you.”

A gun shot goes off. 

Tee-le and I open the doors of the car. 

I have Khumo on me. 

“Voetsek! Phumani la!” One of the men says. 

“Ngiyaphuma bhuti.” I say.

“Leave the bag!” He says, pointing at my handbag. 

I drop my handbag. But they let us keep Khumo’s bag.

“Stand back!” The guy.

I stand back. Khumo is hanging onto me. The baby in my stomach is suddenly kicking me aggressively.

Our car drives off.

Tee-le is fine. He looks at us.

I look at him. 

Khumo starts crying. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” I try. But I’m just as emotional. 

“You saved our lives.” Tee-le says to me and kisses my forehead. 

“Let’s find a safe place and phone someone. If they realise that I put our wallets, phones and keys in Khumo’s bag, they’ll come back and hurt us.” I say.

Tee-le takes Khumo from me, holds my hand and we run until we see a hotel. 

By the time we get into a hotel room, I’m experiencing cramps. 

“Lie down, baby. I’m calling Nene and will ask her to bring your doctor.” Tee-le says. 

I hold Khumo close to me too.

Tee-le is making calls. 

Within an hour, all our friends are here. Nene is helping me with these cramps and my gynae is checking me out. Khumo saw the other kids, stopped crying and went to play. Tee-le is explaining what happened to the guys. Mfundo is consoling him and telling him that at least, we are all safe. Reahile, Khabane and Mohato are so focused on what we remember… what were these people wearing? Do we remember any cars they were in? 

“It’s over guys. We don’t want to think about it anymore.” I keep saying.

They are not letting it go. At all.

“Uncle Bane, he was wearing a red t-shirt. One of them were white. One told mommy to step away and said a bad word in Zulu. The white one told daddy to leave the key in the car, not be stupid or he will hurt me and mommy. He told the person next to him code five.” How was Khumo this attentive? Her head was in my shoulder and she was holding tight onto me. 

Bane, Rea and Mohato look at each other. Reahile runs out.

“You did good, baby girl”, Khabane says. As he leaves, Khanyisa grabs his hand and says, “Uyaphi Khabane?”

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Khabane says then kisses her cheek. 

“Khumo, come to me.” I say. 

She runs to me. 

I hug her. 

“We are okay. They didn’t hurt us. I’m sorry, okay?” Me. 

Tee-le sits next to us. He holds us close to him. 

“This baby will not stop kicking me”, I say. 

“And it’s weird”, Khumo says. 

We all laugh then Tee-le rubs his hand over my swollen belly. 

We spent the night at the hotel after our friends went back home way past midnight. Tee-le and I struggled to sleep because Khumo seemed to have nightmares through the night. We had to go back to that place where she was a baby and would cry in the middle of the night. Tee-le and I, both being new parents and not understanding what the crying meant, would stay up at night and just exchange her from one set of arms to another. This happened again last night. 

I asked the hotel to bring us warm milk with a dash of honey. Tee-le read her some book that he found on Google. She managed to sleep at 4am. That means we slept at 4am. 

Now, she’s still asleep, refusing to wake up. She even said, “Mommy, leave me alone. I’m tired.” The audacity! We are also tired… because of her! I had to bath her in her sleepiness. 

I experienced those cramps again at night. My gynae just told me to lay off the hectic exercises and sleep a lot more. Rest. That’s the word of the month for nine months when you are pregnant. Rest. Don’t waste your medical aid guys. Wondering what to do when pregnancy gets the better of you? REST!

Tee-le carries Khumo and we leave the hotel room. Insurance has already arranged a new car for us. As we get downstairs, a deep navy-blue Range Rover Sport is parked and ready for us. 

“Do you like it?” Tee-le asks me.

I just smile at him. It’s a nice car. And he’s always loved big cars. He is also big on specialising the seats with hectic ergonomic features. It must be because of him playing sports professionally for so long. 

“I have to sit with Khumo at the back. This one does not have a car seat yet.” I say.

“Okay.” He agrees with me.

Khumo wakes up and notices the new car.

“This is so nice. I like it, daddy.” She says when she sees the new car.

Tee-le and I laugh. 

As we drive home, Khumo asks us, “When is my brother coming out of mommy’s tummy?” 

“In the next two months, baby.” I say. 

“How many more sleepies?” Khumo asks us.

“Sixty, more or less.” Tee-le. 

“I want to buy him a present. Will you give me money, daddy?” 

“Yeah. That would be nice. What do you want to buy him?” Tee-le. 

“I don’t know yet. I don’t even know what boys like. Dad says boys only like girls.” 

Tee-le and these things he’s told my child about boys is honestly going to be a problem. He’s even laughing. 

“I can’t buy girls.” Khumo says. 

“You can buy your brother some nice toys. Boys like cars, jungle gyms, soccer balls. You can even share your playground at home with him.” I say before she takes this conversation too far. Khumo is very capable. 

Tee-le is just laughing. 

“He’s going to be my best friend. Like Mbali and Liso. They do everything together. Mbali says that Liso is her best friend and that they fight for each other.” 

Now that’s beautiful. 

“That’s beautiful, hey?” I say.

She nods her head. 

“Liso says that if anybody makes his sister angry, they pay for it.” 

Okay, this conversation is taking another direction all together. 

“The important thing is that you guys will always have each other and that you love each other more than anything and anyone else.” I say. 

“Breakfast at Papachinos?” Tee-le.

My daughter is already jumping for joy and screaming, “Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!”

…

So, I’ve been working with this woman for close to a month now. I manage her office. She’s not a nice person at work, but everyone seems to understand her and they seem to prefer her because she’s extremely efficient. 

I may have been out of action for some time, but I know a few things about keeping an office running and efficient. I think I’ve been doing okay. 

The king has come here a few times. When he gets here, he greets no one. He doesn’t even ask if his wife is available or in meetings. When she is in meetings, he pulls her out of the meetings, they get into her office and they fight. Twice, they fought about Uyanda and twice, he has insinuated that she is mourning Uyanda… that’s why she’s always dressed in black. That’s why she’s always so sad and closed off. And that’s why she’s usually crying when she’s alone for too long. She cries more than me and I was his wife. 

Someone knocks on my desk. I look up. This is a very rude gesture. 

“Hi”, one of the princes say. I think it’s Mohato. The one that actually lives in the kingdom. He is with the dad. 

“Hello.” I say as I look up to him.

“Where’s Thabi?” The husband. 

“She hasn’t come in yet, kgosi.” I say. 

“That’s not possible. She left home very early saying that she’s rushing to work.” The husband.

“I don’t know what to tell you, kgosi. She’s not here.” I say. 

He looks at me for a loooooong time, then he says, “Who are you?” 

The king is extremely rude. 

“Ndalo Mbatha. I’m the office manager.” I say.

The king and the prince look at each other. 

“Since when?” The prince asks me.

“Almost a month now.” Me. 

“Any relations to Uyanda Mbatha?” The prince. 

“He was my husband.” I say.

Now their body language changes completely. I don’t know what to make of it. 

“How do you know Rethabile?” The king asks me. 

I’m entertaining these questions because I also want to see where this interrogation will lead us. 

“Mofomahadi found me. She told me that she and Uyanda were good friends and that he’d want her to look after my two kids and me. She wanted to send us money every month. But I asked her for a job instead. I didn’t want handouts.” 

They look at me… almost analysing me. 

“You have children?” The prince asks me. 

“Yes. Two boys.” I say. 

Now they both look like they feel sorry for me. 

“Would you like to come and work at the Sip & Read? I could use your help there.” The king says. 

“And my job here with mofomahadi?” I ask. 

“The Sip & Read pays more.” He says.

What’s going on here? Why do I have a bad feeling about this? 

“Here’s my card. Phone me when you’ve thought about it”, the king says as he puts his business card in front of me. 

…

Mofomahadi didn’t show up at work at all. I’m at home now with my children. We are back at our actual home. I haven’t been able to sleep in the room where I slept with Uyanda. It doesn’t feel okay that he’s gone. I sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. Yesterday, I found a picture of him and Thuli in the cupboard. I forget that Thuli used to live in this house too. He clearly just moved all things Thuli in this room because there is a lot of her in here. And he used to come in here a lot. He said he came in here for space. Clearly, he came in here for her. 

I keep feeling like I was Uyanda’s biggest regret. He blamed me for losing her. He wished that she was the mother of my kids. He made me feel it when he was alive, and he continues to make me feel it in his death. 

I take a deep breath. 

I put my legs up on the bed. 

I look at this picture of him and Thuli, but I focus on his face. 

“Wenzeni Uyanda?” I ask his face on this picture. He is smiling. He is so happy. He was very happy with Thuli. I never brought out this smile in him. 

“Did those people kill you?” I ask the picture again. 

Even if I find out that they did kill him, what am I going to do? He hasn’t given me much to fight for when it comes to him and his honour.

My cellphone rings. I don’t recognize the number. 

“Hello?” Me. 

“I’m still waiting for your call.” Some man says. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You are speaking to Onaleruna Mohale.” 

Yoh!

I take a second look at my cellphone. 

I fix myself and clear my throat. 

“Kgosi –

“Ona, please.”

I clear my throat again.

“Ona, hi.” 

“You haven’t called me back about the Sip & Read job offer.”

“I’ve been busy with my boys. When I come back home after work, I’m all theirs. They’ve already lost one parent. I don’t want them to feel like they’ve lost me too.” I say.

“I see. So, the job? Are you in or?” 

“I’m interested. I just need to speak to mofomahadi. She was so kind to me. I don’t want to come across as ungrateful after she has been so thoughtful of my situation.” 

“I can speak to her if you like. The Sip & Read needs a manager as in yesterday. I need you there first thing tomorrow morning. My brother and I are hosting some big investors in the kingdom.” 

“I see.”

“I’ll speak to Thabi. Can I count on you?” 

“Sure. What time do I need to be there?” 

“8am?”

“I can be there at 7am after I’ve dropped my kids off at school.” 

“I’ll make sure someone is there to open for you. I appreciate you.” 

We hang up. 

It’s morning. I’ve dropped my kids off at school and I’m at the Sip & Read. The door seems open. I push it and walk in. 

“Hello?” I yell. 

“You can come straight to my office.” I hear the king’s voice. 

Is he this nice with commoners? 

I walk to his office. There is a whole passage of offices here. There are even meeting boardrooms. Isn’t this supposed to be a restaurant? 

“Good morning”, he says. 

“Hi.”

“You look nice.” He says.

Heh!

I look away.

I’m going to sleep with this man. Stru. He’s too powerful and too good looking to be treating me like this. 

“I thought this was a restaurant”, I change the subject. 

He laughs then says, “It was meant to be drinks and light eats place that encouraged reading. My late sister, Oluremi Mohale, she had a whole vision for this place. When she passed, we didn’t want to share it with everybody anymore. Now, we’ve made it an exclusive place for big deals to be sealed and high priority meetings to take place. My family and I all have offices here – just to feel close to her.”

I nod my head. 

“Do you have anything that you rely on to feel close to your husband?” 

“Just our kids. That’s the only meaningful thing that he ever gave me. I hate that I have to mourn him for a year.” 

“A year?” 

I nod my head and say, “His family says so. They hate me.” 

He nods his head. 

“I can fix that if you want me to.”

I look at him with my suspicious eye. 

It’s confirmed, he’s feeling me too. 

“Kgosi, can I-

“Ona.”

“Ona, can I ask you something?” 

He nods his head.

“How did you and mofomahadi know Uyanda?” 

“I didn’t know him.” He says. 

“Oh.”

“He was just the soccer player playing way out of his league by scoring goals in my wife’s vagina.”

I suddenly feel like I’m short of breath. I feel dizzy. I grab onto my stomach. What did this guy just say?! 

I shake my head. I expected this, but I didn’t expect this. 

“Did you kill him?” I ask him. 

“No.” He says. 

“Do you know who killed him?” Me. 

“Yes. I do.”

“Would you tell me?” I ask him.

“No.” He says.

…

I have hired this Khosi girl as a favour to my father-in-law, Dikwe. Khosi is his wife’s sister and she’s just hit rock bottom with no options that will help her get up again.

Paula questioned my sanity. I don’t even know the girl. When I asked about skills that she has that I could possibly use at my office – a doctor’s room really – Paula told me that her top skill would be to comfort my sick clients with sex. 

Dikwe said I should make her a PA. Paula said no, that’s not someone I want anywhere near my personal space. According to Paula, I shouldn’t even have her near patient files. 

“So what will she do, Paula?” I asked her. 

“Make her clean the office. That’s also a job.” Paula said and we both just laughed. 

I made her a receptionist to my doctors’ rooms. She answers phones, takes messages for me when I’m not available and manages appointments. That’s where her role starts and ends. 

At home, things are a bit peaceful. Paula and I are actually getting along… to a point where she is still staying with us. Leruo seems to enjoy how well we get along. He absolutely loves it. The kids are enjoying it the most. Fenya loves having brothers to play with. He was bored with being an only child shame. 

It just gets awkward for me when we have to go to bed and Leruo continuously finds himself sleeping in my room. But I’m giving them their space to pace themselves at getting back to where they need to be again. I’m happy that they can at least have a conversation now… or be in the same room and not want to jump on each other’s throats. 

They are both in therapy, so that’s definitely making the house a lot more peaceful. I’m dealing with my pregnancy. My tummy grows by day. Leruo is excited for this child. I don’t know why because it’s his fourth child. But he’s really happy and all the names that he proposes have something to do with peace or family. 

“Watching the rain fall, mam’khulu?” I say as I get to the patio with a fruit tray. Paula is sitting out here, and the rain is pouring. She always laughs when I call her mam’khulu. 

“The rain brings me peace”, she says. 

I sit next to her and put the fruit tray on the table in front of us. 

She dives into it. 

“Thank you for letting me crowd your space like this. I’m really not okay to be on my own yet.” She says.

“You know it’s not an issue. Kusekhaya la. Stop saying thank you. You are always welcome, and you are not crowding our space.” I say.

She smiles at me. 

“So, wouldn’t you want ubaba ukuthi akuvakashele?” I ask her. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready. Obviously, sexually, I want him… I need him… so badly. But I have this fear that if I let him in, break down the walls that I’ve set up to protect myself from him, I’d be giving away too much power and it’s too soon.” 

“I hear you. But Paula, you also need to decide if you still want to be married to him. Marriage comes with all of these things that you are scared of. You have to let him in. You have to let the walls fall. You have to give him some sort of power just like he will give you some power too.” 

“I get you.”

“Do you still love him?” 

“More than I want to, Zamo.” 

“Are you still prepared to take the chance with him?” 

She looks at me. 

She blinks.

A tear escapes her eye.

She nods her head. 

I smile at her. 

“Go away for the weekend. I’ll stay with the kids. Go fix your marriage. He still loves you. I know he does.” 

“I’m not ready”, she says. 

I nod my head. 

“When do you think you’ll be ready?” When did Leruo get here and why is he eavesdropping on our conversation?

His tone is also a bit unpleasant. 

Paula and I look at him. He has his hands in his pocket – looking handsome as ever – dressed in the outfit he wore to work today, but replaced his formal shoes with sleepers. 

“I’m not ready, Leruo. And you are not going to force me into being ready.” Paula says. 

“I’m not forcing anything. I’m asking you a fair question. This ready or not ready thing of yours affects everyone, not just you. The kids are affected by your uncertainty of where you stand in this marriage.” 

“The kids know that we are family. What conversation do you want to have with them? That you and I are not having sex? Because we aren’t divorced yet.” 

“Nomzamo needs to know how long she needs to tiptoe around your feelings. She’s pregnant… but she has to prioritize your feelings as if you are the beginning and the end of this family.” 

“Did Nomzamo say that? Did you ever ask Nomzamo if that’s how she feels? Or are you just being yourself and playing God over our lives again?” 

“And I need to know where I stand with you. As your husband, I need to know what we are doing here. If we are done, let’s be done. But if we are still committed to fixing this, then let’s fix it.” 

“So this is all about Leruo?” 

“It’s about the stability of this family. I’ve messed up, Paula. And I’m accepting that. If that’s what has ended us, I’m accepting it too. But don’t string everyone along with this ready-not ready shit just because I have to understand that you need space and time.” 

Paula is quiet. She seems to be getting emotional. 

Maybe I should give them space. 

Leruo walks onto the patio. He sits on a couch opposite the one that we are sitting on. 

He holds Paula’s hands. She lets him.

He begins: 

“We were young when we met. We had no idea what we were doing when our first son was born. We named him Kgosi because we knew that regardless of how he turned out, the crown of our love and connection – no matter the situation – would be evidence in him. We got married and we were committed to spending the rest of our lives together. We had Mmuso after that. Then life happened. I got stupid and you tolerated me. Thank you for that. Thank you for choosing me when it wasn’t ideal to do so. Thank you for loving me and holding me down when all I deserved was for you to have me arrested. Thank you for eight beautiful years of marriage and two beautiful boys that came from that. I’m prepared to fix us so that we see many more years to come together as a family. But we both have to want it. And if you feel like there’s no more room left for me in your life, it’s okay. Just say so. I’ll never make you suffer for it. Paula, I owe you my life. I’ll take care of you financially and you’ll never struggle. But don’t stay if security is the key reason why being with me makes sense. You’ll have it regardless. Choose whatever makes you happy and I’ll see to it that you are supported. But this game of uncertainty, it has to end. It’s not fair. You are not the only person in this relationship. Everyone in the relationship is entitled to fairness.”

Paula is crying now. 

“Mommy, can we play in the playroom because we can’t be outside? It’s raining?” That’s Fenya. 

I’m up on my feet and running towards him before he comes towards us and sees Paula crying. 

I entertain the kids while Paula and Leruo talk outside. 

…

We are having dinner now. Paula excused herself from dinner, saying that she wasn’t hungry. We let her retire to her bedroom. The table is very chatty. The boys are hosting their own meeting and Leruo is watching them, laughing at the contents of this conversation. He steals looks at me from time to time. I wonder what’s going through his mind.

Leruo offers to wash the dishes with the boys. The role of the adult when the boys wash the dishes to ensure that the schedule is being adhered to. They take turns with washing, drying and packing. The adult also has to ensure that the dishes are washed clean, then the adult washes the pots and pans. We are teaching them responsibility.

I make my way to go and check up on Paula in her room. 

This staircase is beginning to be a problem for pregnant old me. I might need to move into one of the downstairs bedrooms. 

I finally get to the top. 

Right there!

In the passage! 

Making one hell of a statement! 

Paula is hanging from my ceiling! 

Do I call Leruo? 

But the boys will run up. And she’s right here! Not even in her own provided bedroom… 

Hanging like an animal in a butchery about to be cut into pieces.

I start crying. 

I don’t realise that my cry is loud until Leruo is next to me, looking at what brought me to this emotional point. 

“Mommy?” Mmuso. 

I want to drag them downstairs… protect them from all of this… make them unsee what they have just seen. 

But I don’t have strength. I can’t speak beyond my crying. 

“Leruo, qhaqh’ intambo umehlise laphaya. Please.” That’s all I can say through my sobs. 

He is crying too. 

He is paralyzed by the moment. 

Kgosi, Mmuso and Fenya are all crying. 

The foam coming out of Paula’s mouth is traumatizing them more. 

“Leruo!” Me. 

“Take the boys downstairs.” He says to me through his sobs. 

These boys are so hysterical. But I manage to pull them downstairs with me.