Pearl

Today, Qaphela and I are having lunch with Gcina and we are just intervening in this behaviour of hers that I just don’t like. We are at Circus Circus. I can just tell that Qaphela and Gcina are here for the first time. I help them pick their meals and we place our order. As soon as the waiter disappears, I start.

“Gcina, your father and I are worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t believe that you’ve made good choices in your life.” I say.

“You don’t believe so. Why are you dragging dad into this?” Gcina says to me.

“You can disrespect me and backchat me all you want, Gcina, but in all honesty, are you proud of where you are in your life and at your age?” Me.

She is silent.

“Ntombikayise, we want better for you, that’s all.” Qaphela finally says something.

“Why are you taking Nobantu’s side?”

“I’m not taking any sides. I am being a father and I just want you to be better and do better than both Nobantu and I”.

Our drinks arrive.

We accept our drinks with smiles then the waiter leaves.

“What’s your plan with school, Gcina?” I ask.

“I don’t like school”.

“Too bad, because you are going back.” Me.

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“And I won’t. But this will be the last of my money that you are seeing. I won’t be supporting your grown ass as if I didn’t give you options.” I say.

“You gave me options? Wena Nobantu?” Gcina.

“I did. And I paid for each option that I gave you. I wasn’t there, I’ll own that. But the money was there to make sure that you didn’t become this.” I say this as I point at her with my entire right hand.

“That’s all that matters to you? Money. Baba, how did you even agree to sitting here with her and telling me this shit?”

“Ela! Sowuyahlanya? What’s shit? And in whose presence are you using that language? Tell us when you want to behave like a child and we will treat you like one. But you will not disrespect us while we are trying to talk to you like an adult.” I put her in her place. Once again, unlike Qaphela, I’m not scared of her. In a weird way, I think she is scared of me. Or maybe she just doesn’t know me as her mother.

Gcina starts crying. Qaphela and I both look at her.

“The important thing here is that we want what’s best for you. We are not here to fight. We are here to figure out how we fix this as a family”, Qaphela says.

I am so glad we are having this conversation at a restaurant. If we were at home, Gcina would definitely be showing me flames. Right now, I thank God for amehlo wabantu.

“Talk to us, Ntombikayise. What’s going on?” Qaphela.

“Nobantu wasn’t there. I didn’t care about your money, Nobantu. I wanted my mother. You excluded me from your life my whole life. Where do you get off judging me? You didn’t teach me things that I could only learn from you. You didn’t teach me how to not be this thing that I have become that you despise so much. Who do you think you are coming back when it suits you and judging me? I didn’t have my mother. You taught me to look forward to your money only and it’s what I do best.” Gcina tells me.

I am silent. No one taught me anything neither. I made a choice that I wanted a particular life and I went for it. Gcina is just making excuses. She needs to grow up and take responsibility for the role that she played in sabotaging herself. But I can’t say that because…

Qaphela is looking at me, expecting me to say something. What am I supposed to do? Apologise?

“Gcinumama, I’m sorry my daughter. I didn’t prepare you to be a solid standing woman and I am sorry.” Truly, this I didn’t prepare her for. Now she’s a weak ass woman who has to complete her childhood phase, so she can wake up and realise that she has to be a woman. I’m sorry for not preparing her.

“Why did you leave me, Nobantu? Why didn’t you take me with you?” Gcina asks me.

“I couldn’t, Gcina. I was working and I just didn’t want to do that to you. My life wasn’t easy in Gauteng. It was unstable and not fit for a child.” This is the truth. Things were not peaches and cream before I met Thomas.

“But they got easier, and you still didn’t come back for me.” She says.

“My marriage wasn’t what you thought it was”, I say.

“So if you didn’t get a divorce? Would you be here? Worried about me? Sitting there and wanting to be mom of the year?” Gcina asks me.

Probably not. But I don’t say that, I just keep quiet.

All three of us internally decide that this conversation is over. We eat our mealsin silence then leave. Qaphela drives my car. I am sitting in the passenger seat and Gcina is at the backseat looking outside the window.

Qaphela and I have a plan. This is going to be a weekend away. We have to get through to Gcina. So, now he is driving us to a lodge in Limpopo. Gcina was excited for this weekend, but now she is just over it.

Qaphela

Sometimes, I really wish I had a son. I don’t think I’d be subjected to so much drama if I had a son. On one hand, I have a daughter whose mouth knows no boundaries every time she is in the presence of her mother. She has so much anger and resentment towards her mother. I am sure that there is resentment reserved for me in her heart as well. I am just a lot nicer to her than what Nobantu is and that’s why I get the nicer version of her. While I am at fault for our family needing to separate in the first place, I came out of prison committed to trying to get back in with her. Nobantu couldn’t care less. Her “I said what I said” and “It is what it is” attitude sets Gcina off in the worst way. It angers Gcina more that her mother doesn’t acknowledge that she is the source of this anger.

Gcina further blames her mother for not being further in her life.

On the other hand, I have a woman that I loved dearly and passionately – so much that even to this day, I have no regrets that she is the mother of my only child. I cannot imagine going through this with any other woman.

She is adamant that her daughter is spoiled and refuses to take responsibility for her own failures. Nobantu doesn’t realise that kids these days are not like us. We could get ourselves out of bad situations because our parents made it very clear that their only job was to birth us. Whatever happened after that was up to us. Some of us went into crime and made sure nobody in the house went to bed hungry. People like Nobantu ran away with boyfriends such as myself and hoped to find a home in them that they didn’t have in their fathers’ houses. So when I disappointed her, she followed every opportunity and made sure she never relied on anyone ever again. That’s why she doesn’t understand why Gcina is so dependent on her. Gcina‘s generation is the generation that gets participation certificates. Their feelings matter and mental health is real and and and…

But like I said, I think the real source of these issues is me. I left Nobantu pregnant at the age of fifteen. I went to prison and had to do my time. I was inside having free meals three times a day, keeping warm in winter and keeping busy during each day. She was in the real world trying to finish school and had to make a plan about the baby she was carrying. I let her down. I lived with that throughout serving my sentence. I think I need to acknowledge my role in Nobantu’s pain so Nobantu can acknowledge her role in Gcina’s pain.

We arrived here at Lodge just after dark. The drive here was depressing. Nobantu and I were chatting and listening to music. We tried to engage Gcina, but she was upset and behaving like a teenager. Nobantu was in no mood to entertain her mood swings, so she ignored her too. We had two stops along the way for food. She spoke to us to give us her food order, but that was it. Nobantu was also in a meeting and replying to emails as I was driving. Her car is comfortable, I will not lie.

We arrived at the lodge and went into our chalet, Gcina went straight to her room and has locked herself in there since we arrived. Nobantu said she was taking a shower. I am in the TV room drinking beer and watching some random movie I’m not even paying attention to.

“Babakhe“, Nobantu walks into the TV room and says. She is in a bikini and a see-through dress over it. Fuck!

“Mamakhe“, I say. I am trying to keep my cool, but she can see right through me.

“Join me in the jacuzzi?” She says. She is already walking out and making her way to the jacuzzi. If I didn’t get caught and did time in jail, this woman would be my wife and we would be on child four by now. I’d be such a proud man. Nobantu is it for me. And I think I am it for her. That’s why things didn’t work out between her and that clown of hers.

We are now in this jacuzzi together. Her dress is off and my clothes are off. I’m just in my boxer shorts.

“Gcina is going to have to talk to us at some point. Don’t stress. She just needs to get over it and think with her head, not her emotions”, she says.

“Nobantu, Gcina is sensitive. She needs you to acknowledge her wounds. She needs you to acknowledge that you left her when she was a child. She needs you to acknowledge that you chose making money over being there for her, teaching her how to use pads when she saw her first period or teaching her how to choose bras when her books started growing.” I tell her.

“I did the best that I could, Qaphela”, she says defensively.

“I know. But it doesn’t change the fact that she got hurt. No option was easy to pick in that situation. She was always going to suffer. You chose to give her comfort and she wishes you chose to suffer with her as long as you were there. Even if you believe you did what was best, she needs you to acknowledge that your choice hurt her.” I say.

Nobantu looks at me like –

“Nobantu, remember when you and I were still dating in our youth? The first time I took you with me to go sleep out after the party we had attended?” I begin.

She is already laughing.

“I remember. You fetched me from school and I felt so good. I was that girl in the rural areas dating a man from the township who was picking me up from school. I was very popular because of you. And you bought me clothes and makeup for the party. Now that I think about it, you are the one who made me forward.” She says. I am also laughing now.

“That night, you told me that your mom had hurt you in the worst possible way, yet she made you feel as if you were crazy and selfish for even being hurt. You said your mom told you that you were not entitled to an apology from her because she’s your mother and not your peer. Nobantu, that thing destroyed you. You couldn’t move on. You were bleeding every day and you hated your mom for not acknowledging that. Even for you to come to me for love and comfort, you wanted nothing to do with her anymore.” I remind her.

“And you promised you’d make a plan. You promised you’d buy us a house and we would start our own life – have babies and be happy.” She says.

“I know.” Me.

“Then you left me pregnant and desperately needing to go back home. My mom kicked me out of the house because of the shame that I had brought her. After I wrote my matric finals, I had to beg her to stay with Gcina and I promised I’d make sure I give her money every month for her and Gcina. That’s why I had to go into the world and make money. Qaphela, Gcina had to live. I was never going to be able to keep her alive if I stayed and raised her.” Nobantu is crying now.

“Nobantu, come here. Woza“, I say. She walks towards me, through the water,and I comfort her. She cries. She is vulnerable now. Good. I am getting somewhere.

“Nobantu, I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry I got caught on that day and I’m sorry that I left you and Gcina to figure it out. I’m so sorry.”

She just cries. Her cry is one of just releasing years of pain – pain that I may know and pain that I do not know.

“Nobantu, you are doing to Gcina what your mom did to you. Gcina needs you to be what you needed your mom to be all those years ago. I don’t want her running after some boy to rescue her from us. We must be the rescue for her. That’s the only way we are going to get this right.” I keep saying.

Nobantu is still crying.

Then there’s my erection. Yerrrr!

In her crying, I feel her hand inside my underwear. What is Nobantu doing? She looks up at me. Her face is wet and eyes are still extremely teary. I kiss her. She kisses me back. I slide my hand under her bikini panty and slide my finger up her vagina. Her moan weakens me. Her hand is servicing my penis so well that it is weakening me. She stands on her toes and wraps one leg around my waist.

Nobantu is…

She is just…

Nobantu…

My underwear comes off. Her bikini comes off. She comes out of the water butt naked. Her body is everything my penis wants to be inside of. The last time she was this naked in front of me, she was fifteen years old. She had boobs. She always had an ass. She had sexy calves. Today, her boobs are small, her waist is tiny, her ass is round and beautiful and her calves still weaken me.

She is on top of me, fucking me just outside of the jacuzzi. I have never – EVER – been served like this before. And I’ve been with a lot of woman. Her thighs are the only things that I can grab on to. I am about to cum, so I push her off me and put her on her hands and knees. Yes, I fuck her from behind, real doggy style. But she does this thing where her chest is on the ground and her ass is in the air. The way her back curves makes me cum almost immediately, leaving me weak and falling in love with Nobantu all over again.

We are catching our breaths as we lay next to each other, naked. I don’t want Gcina to walk out and see this because she will somehow find a way to throw it back in Nobantu’s face when they are having one of their fights again.

“I missed you, Qaphela. There is not a day that went by that I didn’t think about you. You never left my heart.” She says.

I want to reply, but I feel as if I will get extremely emotional if I had to put into words what’s in my heart.

She throws my underwear at me and she dresses up in her bikini again – I guess, for Gcina.

“I called the prison from time to time, just to check in on how you were doing.” She says.

She did what? She must be lying.

“They told me you got stabbed once. Then at some point I was told that you were in solitary confinement because you had killed someone. Then –

“Nobantu!” I interrupt her because I’m slightly irritated that she was keeping tabs on me. She didn’t need to know all of these things or how I made it out of prison alive.

“My point is, I never stopped calling. I never stopped loving you. I never forgot about you.” She says.

“I thought you were happily married.” I say.

“I was. But I still missed you.” She says.

We look at each other. We are having a moment.

She goes back into the Jacuzzi, as if telling me that the conversation is over. I don’t know what to make of any of this. I just head back into the house to take a shower and just sleep.

…

I woke up today feeling like yesterday was a dream. It wasn’t. Nobantu and I connected again – not just sexually, but mentally and emotionally. I smile to myself. Maybe I can have my family back after all.

I check my cellphone for any missed notifications. I have missed calls from Sthembile and I have no plans of returning those calls. I hear voices in the kitchen, so I roll out of bed with the intention to make my way to the kitchen. Sthembile calls again. Eish! I really need to end this situation. If I have it my way, Nobantu will be my girlfriend after this weekend away thing designed to discipline Gcina. I am actually laughing because Gcina really has a soft life. Who gets disciplined on a weekend away?

Sthembile calls again and this time I answer.

“Hello?”

“Do you not want me anymore? Now that Nobantu is back, this is how you treat me?” She is yelling. This is exactly what I was avoiding because now I am stuck between lying to her to prevent her from burning the whole of KZN out of anger (because Shaka Zulu worked too hard to get us all this land) and tellingher the truth to get her off my back. But that would result to the burning of Shaka Zulu’s hard work. Or I could maybe hang up right now and hope that one day, she and Nobantu bump into each other and Nobantu deals with her for me. She has always been good at dealing with women who thought they had a place in my life.

“Sthembile, why are we fighting so early in the morning?” I choose to dodge the “Don’t you want me anymore” question.

“Where are you, Qaphela? You just disappear and ignore my calls. How brave are you?”

“I need you to calm down, Sthembile. We are not having a conversation right now. I haven’t even answered one of your questions at this point.” I point out.

“Okay, answer this question: Where are you?”

“In Limpopo”, I say.

“LIMPOPO! Ey wena Qaphela! How do you go to Limpopo and not say anything to me? Why did I have to stay behind?” Yho, hai she’s very upset today. She woke up with a screaming assignment to complete and she is depleting all that screaming assignment data over this call.

“Nobantu and I thought it would do Gcina some good to –

“Nobantu? Nobantu is there?”

“Yes, Nobantu and Gcina are here. We are here for Gcina.”

“I am Gcina’s step-mother. Why am I not part of this family vacation?”

I wish she could say that in front of Nobantu.

“Sthembile, can I just phone you when I am back in KZN?”

“No! We are going to live on our phones today –

I hang up before she even finishes that sentence. She must be high.

She calls me again and I switch off my cellphone.

I get into the kitchen and find Nobantu making breakfast.

“Good morning”, I greet her.

“Good morning”, she says with a smile on her face. She is even glowing this morning.

“I heard voices. Who were you talking to?” I ask her.

“Just the cleaning staff. I was telling them to come back after two hours because you and Gcina were still sleeping. We still have to shower then get ready for the day. We have our game drive at 7pm. For the morning, we will be quad-biking then we will have lunch in an air-balloon.”

Nobantu goes on and on about these activities she has lined up. How does she even think of doing half the things she does. This is her life now? She does weird things like eat in air balloons now? I think it’s a good thing that I went to prison and gave the Venda man an opportunity to teach Nobantu how to be Pearl the snob. She is in her element when she is a snob and these snobbish things make her happy. You should see her beaming right now. I could wave her at a concert and she will beam brighter than the lighting.

“Good morning”, Gcina comes into the kitchen and says. She is already dressed up for the day and she seems to be in a better mood than yesterday.

“Hello. Did you sleep well?” I ask her.

“Yho, this place is hot. And Sthembile won’t stop phoning me looking for you, baba.” She says.

When did Sthembile get my daughter’s number? And now she is involving my child in her insecurities.

“What does she want?” Nobantu asks. Of course Nobantu would ask that. I am her boyfriend. What does she think Sthembile wants?

“I don’t know. She just irritated me when she claimed to be my step-mother.” Gcina says.

The look on Nobantu’s face!

I did say that Sthembile must say that step-mother nonsense in front of Nobantu.

“That’s when I told her to start deleting her dreams shame because the two of you are already having sex. Then I blocked her. I’m sure B3 or Tshipi Noto are fetching her from wherever she is because her heart stopped beating.” Gcina says. And the way she says it – it is so careless. Yaz, I am dealing with Nobantu and Nobantu Jnr here. Sthembile would never survive as Gcina’s step-mother. Team Nobantu&Gcina would end her before her time.

Nobantu wants to enquire on that comment, but she also wants to laugh. Before she can react to anything, Gcina has grabbed a plate, dished up breakfast for herself and is now eating in the TV room watching something on the TV.

“That’s your child! That’s your Ntombikayise. That’s what your sperm planted in my womb.” Nobantu says as she shakes her head in disbelief. Gcina’s tongue knows no boundaries!

As for me, I don’t know how I am going to deal with Sthembile after both the women in my life drive her to a heart attack. Should I even bother? Isn’t it B3 or Tshipi Noto are already fetching her? It must be an RIP to our relationship.