It is only 2pm and I’m already bushed. I’ve been in meetings all morning and I’ve been reviewing contracts since 12pm. I haven’t even eaten, and I don’t feel hungry. I spoke to Ntuthuko once or twice today just to check in. He’s still at my place and I’m actually enjoying having him around. We fight from time to time, but I fall more and more in love with him each day. This may sound arrogant, but I think he really loves me too. He has his weird ways of reaffirming his love for me and I appreciate him. 

He told me that he will be with Senzi today. Senzi landed this morning from being away for the past week. So, I know he will be home later. But what I like about him is that he’s always available. When I call him, I can reach him. He carries a power bank with him in case his phone battery dies. I genuinely appreciate him. 

He’s very different, I must say. 

I’ve been with douche bags… severe douche bags. I’d not even be able to contact them for over a week and I had to be okay with that. So Ntuthuko tells me that I have a right to hold him accountable for whatever his responsibilities are to me, and I must never be scared to hold him accountable. Ipantsula lami madoda!

I get a call from reception.

“Hello?” Me. 

“Hi Miss Khumalo. There are some people here for you.” 

“People?” 

“Yeah. They said they specifically want Tamia. You are the only Tamia in the company.”

“What do they want?” I ask.

“Sisi, angazi. They are just not nice.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

We hang up. 

I get up from my desk and make my way to reception. I sit on the third floor. So, I use a lift to head to ground floor, the reception. 

“You are Ntuthuko’s girlfriend?!” Some woman barks at me. Hai bo! 

“Askies?!” Me.

Does Ntuthuko have other women I’m sharing him with?

“You are Tamia Khumalo? And you are Ntuthuko Maphumulo’s girlfriend?” Another woman.

“Yes. Who are you?”

“The four of us are the mothers of his children!” A third one says and shoves what seems to be a one-year-old into my arms.

“This is a place of work for me. What you are doing is intimidation and unnecessary. I can have you arrested for this. I’m a lawyer.” I say.

“Arrested?! So that’s why Ntuthuko treats us like this now. You think you are clever!” 

“Sis Pru, call security and the police, please.” I ask the receptionist.

“You are the one who convinced Ntuthuko that we are gold diggers and that we just want his money! You are the one who convinced Ntuthuko that we shouldn’t get money that he can more than afford to give us to support his kids. You pay school fees now. You pay school transport now. You buy groceries for them and when we want money for clothes, we put in requests and support why we need the money. So now, we are leaving these kids with you and Ntuthuko. You must now see for yourself how much it takes to raise these kids. All you get to be is pretty and give him sex while we do all the work of raising his kids! Now, you’ll feel it for yourself.” One of the women say.

“You will clothe them, feed them and do whatever it is you have to do to raise them. Sikhathele thina!” One of them.

“You are not even his type! Look at us and look at you. Awufani nix nathi wena!” Another one.

UNtuthuko wacamela these people, vele? Men and the standards of their erections! Rha!

“Bantwana, umama wenu lo. She takes your dad and all of you. You will be in her life athanda noma angathandi. Niziphatheni kahle. Bye.” 

These women leave and I have four kids looking at me… confused as I am. One of them is in my arms. Heh! 

I’m not even driving the big car today. I came here with my Porsche, and it will not fit all of these kids. I don’t even have a car seat in that car. Yoh! 

“Hi guys”, I greet the kids.

“Hello.” The three standing in front of me greet me.

“My name is Tamia. What are your names?” 

“I’m Thulisa”, the eldest girl says.

“I’m Nkosana”, the eldest boy says.

“I’m Bonga”, the younger boy says.

“This is Sihle”, Thulisa tells me that the one I’m holding is Sihle. 

“Awesome. So, I’m going to leave you guys here with Sis’Pru very quickly. I’m going to get my bags upstairs, get us an Uber then we can leave. Is that okay?” Me.

They nod their heads. 

Sis’Pru smiles at me then nods her head.

“What’s a Uber?” Bonga asks me.

“A taxi”, I say.

“But a fancy one. We will be the only passengers.” Thulisa.

It’s still public transport, but hey.

“We going to be in a combi without other people?” Bonga.

“It’s not a combi. It’s a fancy car.” Thulisa. 

“Don’t you have a car? My mom says you and my dad have a lot of fancy cars”. Nkosana. 

I look at Sis’Pru. 

“Come with me. I’ll get you something to drink while we wait for Mam’Tamia.” Sis’Pru rescues me, taking Sihle from my arms.

“Ngiyabonga Sis’Pru, truly.” Me.

I make my way to the elevator. I dial Ntuthuko.

“Shambula”, he answers his phone.

“Your baby-mamas were here at my workplace, causing a scene.” 

“What?!”

“Yes! And they left all the kids here with me. No bags. No lists of possible allergies. No medical records. Nothing.”

“I don’t understand what you are telling me. How did they even find you or know who you are?” He’s very angry now. Imagine how I feel?

“Ntuthuko, your baby-mamas said if I’m going to be with you, I don’t just get to have sex with you, I must take the kids too. And since we’ve decided to control their spending and requests for money from you, we must live with the kids and see how unreasonable we are being.” I explain.

“I’m going to kill them.” He says.

“Babe, don’t give them the satisfaction. Don’t even phone them. It’s fine. We can handle this. I just feel attacked because of how they did all of that in front of everyone at reception. But I’m cool. I’m going to knock off now and take them to the mall. I need to get a car seat for Sihle. I need to buy them clothes and pyjamas because their mothers left nothing! Then we will get some food. We will have to take an Uber. Can you come to my workplace and take the Porsche? It’s not exactly child friendly. I’ll leave the keys with Sis’Pru. Bring your ID. They’ll want your identification before they give you the keys.”

“Baby, you don’t have to do all of this.” 

“Ntuthuko, do you understand what I mean when I tell you that I love you?” Me.

“I do. But this is a lot.”

“Baby, the first thing you told me about yourself when we first met is that you have four kids. If that wasn’t something that I’m prepared to deal with, I would have broken things off right there and then. But I didn’t. Because I love you – all of you. Your kids are my responsibility too. Their mothers don’t get to win. They are doing this to break us up and they won’t get what they want because I love your kids. And I’m here for you and for them.”

“Tamia –

“Please, sthandwa sami. Don’t phone them. Let them be. Come pick up the Porsche from the office. We will keep each other updated as the day goes by. I’ll take them to Mall of Africa. It’s the closest mall to the office.” 

“Tamia…”

“Yes babe?”

“Ngiyakuthanda. And ngizokushada.” He tells me.

“You going to make me cry. And that’s not the image I’m going for at the office.”

He laughs.

“I love you, okay… and we are fine. The six of us are going to be okay.” I say.

“Shup.”

“Bye baby.”

I hang up. 

I pack my bag and spend about half an hour explaining to my boss what’s going on. I tell him I’ll be working from home until I’ve figured out everything. If it gets too steep, I’ll take leave. He tells me that I can take leave, but asks that I be available because we have critical business coming our way. I agree. Now, I head out. 

We took an Uber van to Mall of Africa. They actually enjoyed it so much. I also learned, through their conversations, that they all met each other for the first time today. They get along good, so I guess that’s a good thing. 

Now, we are at the mall. Sihle is in the car seat attached to the trolley I’m pushing. She’s been on my lap since we left the office. Bonga is in the bigger compartment of the trolley. I’ve learned that he’s four years old. Nkosana, the eleven-year-old, is next to me, and Thulisa, the twelve year old, is on my other side. I put my laptop bag and handbag inside the trolley with Bonga. He promised to be the security for them. The other two promised to be his assistants. Ja neh. They are funny kids. They are not showing me flames like I thought they would. Their mothers are something else. I have my cellphone in my pocket because Ntuthuko has already phoned us twice checking in on us. He also got my car from the office. He said he’d leave it at home then meet up with us here with the bigger car. 

Our first stop is Woolworths. I make them choose their own pyjamas, then I pick cute ones for Sihle. I assist Bonga with his choice. Then I tell them we need to get clothes. Only Thulisa is excited. The boys come around eventually. They choose, but I vet the choices. I’m learning that they don’t make sensible choices when picking clothes. They pick what seems nice to them, and they don’t realise that they need matching pants or matching tops. They get shoes and underwear as well. We take over an hour just fitting the clothes. But we finish eventually. I take some bedding for them as well – kid friendly bedding. My house is not exactly set up for kids. 

I pay for everything and the plastics are all in the trolley with my bags and Bonga.

From here, we go to a Mr Price kids where I purchase a car seat, a stroller, a cot and a playpen for Sihle. Bonga sees those motor electrical cars and asks for one. I buy him the Jeep version that he likes. The older two get iPads. I think I’ve won them over. 

Ntuthuko finds us. He attacks me with a kiss first and a deeply sincere hug. 

“You good?” I ask him.

“You are the best decision I’ve ever made”, he says to me. 

We kiss again.

Now he greets the kids.

They are excited to see him. They tell him about the clothes we bought, their new toys and gadgets. Ntuthuko mouths a thank you at me. I smile at him. 

“We can go eat somewhere nice. We are tired.” I say.

“McDonald’s”, Bonga says.

“That’s boring. Let’s go to Spur”, Nkosana says.

“Yes, Spur.” Thulisa.

These two team up a lot. 

I can see Bonga getting upset.

“Sizoya endlini sipheke ke”, Ntuthuko.

“Okay. Okay. We will go to Spur.” Bonga submits. 

Ntuthuko pushes this now heavy trolley to the car. Sihle has now come out of the car seat and is in my arms again. I think she’s small and unfamiliar with whatever is happening here. So, I’m her safe place and she’s sticking to me until she gets comfortable again. 

We leave Mall of Africa after Sihle’s car seat has been set up and she’s now in it. We realise that my car GLC Coupe is still small. They fit at the back, but not comfortably. Ntuthuko says it’s better than the taxis that they are used to. Imagine!

We get to Spur and they are excited again. But we have to force them to pick a meal first before going to play. Now they are gone. I’m feet are killing me. I’m only realising now that I’m still in heels and a suit. Sihle is in a feeding chair between Ntuthuko and I. 

“I want to marry you”, he says as we wait for our drinks and food.

“I want to marry you too”, I say.

“I’m serious. I want to marry you.” 

Now I giggle. 

“Uzobona wena.” He says.

“How’s Senzi?” I change the subject. 

“He’s fine. We went to see Keith. Ay, him and Bassie are really in a bad place.” 

“Even with the kid back?” 

He nods his head. 

“Eish. I thought I’d go see them today, kodwa…”

“They understand. I told them what’s happening. They were actually worried about you.” 

“Why though?”

“Tamia, this is not a normal situation.”

“I guess. But I’m fine. I’m just worried about you. Wena uzofuna ukwenzani? Are you keeping the kids permanently? What?! Maybe put something final and legal in place to seal the stability for the kids.” I say.

“You think so?” He asks me. 

“Yes. Ntuthuko, they left their kids with someone that they do not know… that they’ve never even met before. They didn’t even know what I look like. What if I wasn’t the only Tamia at the office? And someone else came by, took them and… yoh!” 

“Baby, calm down.”

“What kind of mothers are they?!” I say.

“Not one like you.” He says.

I look at him.

“But thank you for everything. You are a hit with them.” He says. 

I smile at him.

Our drinks arrive. I’m having wine. Dry and red! I need the whole bottle, but I’ll be a lady and just have a glass for now. Ntuthuko is having beer. I’m sure he’d also like a whole six pack. 

I place an order for delivery with Dischem for all the toiletry items that I will need. I’ll pick it up when we drive home. 

The food arrives and I go call the kids back to eat. The table is definitely filled with conversation – mostly with me. They seem slightly scared of their father. I wonder what their mothers told them about their father. 

By the time the bill comes, it’s 6pm. Ntuthuko pays the bill then we head home. We are all actually tired. 

We get home – after picking up my order at Dischem – and when we enter the house, the kids instantly love it. Each person has their own plastic bags. Ntuthuko decides to put up Sihle’s playpen in the TV room. I head upstairs and show them where they’ll be sleeping. I divide the rooms into boys’ room and girls’ room. My place is only four bedrooms. The last bedroom is a guest bedroom and that’s where my mom sleeps when she is visiting. 

“So, I get my own room?” Thulisa. 

“You’ll share with your sister. But she will probably sleep with your dad and me sometimes”, I say. 

“So only two people in one room?” Nkosana.

I nod my head. I’m very confused about these questions. 

“At home, only gogo and my mom sleep in the bedroom. The rest of us sleep on the floor in the TV room”, Thulisa. 

Okay, now I understand. 

“We sleep in the kitchen – me and my five cousins. Then the big people sleep in the TV room. My uncle sleeps in the bedroom with his girlfriends and makes noise the whole night.” Nkosana. 

I look at Ntuthuko. He can see that I’m beyond shocked. He isn’t as moved. He is just busy with the playpen. 

“Bonga, where do you sleep at home?” Nkosana. 

Bonga just shrugs his shoulders. Then he says, “if I make mommy angry, I sleep outside.”

Hai!

Again, Ntuthuko – UNMOVED!

“Well, you have bedrooms here. You don’t have to worry about sleeping on floors or outside ever again. One day, daddy and I will buy a bigger house and you’ll each have your own bedrooms.” I say. 

“A bigger house than this one? But this one is a mansion! It even has a upstairs,” Thulisa. 

Obviously, I need to get English tutors here. From “a uber” to “a upstairs”. We don’t speak like this. Please! 

“What’s a mansion?” Bonga. 

“A big house. Like the one that the president of America lives in.” Nkosana. 

Weh!

That time, my place is just a duplex.

I run them a bubble bath. I let the girls bath in the main bedroom, and the boys must bath in the second bathroom. The third restroom is just a toilet, a basin and a shower. Where the boys are bathing, it’s a toilet, a basin and a bathtub. Our main bedroom’s insuite bathroom has everything. 

I help Sihle bath. She doesn’t cry or anything. It’s pretty easy actually. Thulisa sorts herself out. When I’m done with Sihle, lotioning her and dressing her up, I give her to Thulisa for them to make it back downstairs for her to play in her playpen. I then help Bonga. He tried to bath himself, but shame… he can’t clean himself completely. I notice that both he and Nkosana are not circumcised. I can’t exactly ask them about it, but I’ll raise it with their father to address it accordingly. I’m just worried about the infections that they may get. I also lotion him and dress him up into pyjamas. He and Nkosana head downstairs too. 

I’m happy that Nkosana and Thulisa washed the baths. Now, I quickly shower then also get comfortable. I’ve literally become a mother in one day. 

Ntuthuko comes into the bedroom. He’s about to get started on the cot. 

“Please marry me, Tamia.” This again?!

“Ntuthuko, I’ve been saying that I’ll marry you. I want to marry you too.”

“I feel like you are not taking me seriously.”

“I am. I promise.” I say.

We kiss a bit.

“Baby…” me.

He looks at me.

“The boys are not circumcised”, I say.

He’s also caught off-guard.

“I’m just worried, you know.” I say.

“Did you ask them why it’s not done?” He asks me.

“Ha! Yoh!” Me.

He laughs. 

“Chat to them. They are cool kids.” I say.

“I feel like I don’t know them.”

“They are as scared of you as you are scared of them. Just talk to them. Get to know them. I just met them today.” I say.

He nods his head. 

“I’m going to sort out their linen. Come downstairs when you are done neh”. Me.

He kisses me again.

…

I’m serious about Tamia. She’s my forever. The minute I saw her with my kids, she put me at ease from my deepest fear – her not loving my children. But she loves them. And they adore her. She doesn’t relate to their struggles because she grew up ‘isi-cheese’. I mean, she got them tutors or teachers or whatever to home-school them because she said they need to catch up on the IEB curriculum before she puts them in a school this side. Lol! Isi-cheese bakithi. Her mother didn’t sound too impressed, but she helped Tamia register the kids for home-schooling and find these people that will run the program with them. We tried to put Sihle in creche for a day assessment. She screamed her lungs out the minute we tried to leave. Tamia said we will get a nanny when she goes back to work, then we will try again with the creche next year. Like I said, isi-cheese. Every time my kids talk about their experiences, Tamia looks like she wants to cry. Imagine how she will be when I start telling her about how I grew up… how my uncle and his wife abused the shit out of me. How I sometimes went a week without eating because they were punishing me for something I didn’t even know that I was doing wrong. How they ran me over with a car after beating me up because I forgot to feed the prostitutes they’d traffic? I was on my way to being taken to social services when my dad and Mam’Nosi found me. It was bad. So, my kids kind of have it better than what I did, that’s why their stories don’t give me a heart attack the way that they do to Tamia. 

I know she was exhausted last week after she had to become an impromptu mother in heels and a suit, but I had to thank her in bed after putting the kids to bed. And you know what, after all of that, she still served me and I’m a happily satisfied man. Within a week, my kids are being home-schooled, and they’ve established a pattern nje of being kids, adapting to the new environment and just doing their part to make the family work. I have a real one. I really do. Tamia is truly like no other woman I’ve ever met in my life. 

I had to phone my father and let him know what was going on. He arrived last night with my mom and Akwande. They are staying at Senzi’s and Wandi’s house. I understand though. I’m staying in Tamia’s house and she’s my girlfriend. Senzi and Wandi are married. It is more respectable that they stay there. 

I’m on my way to their place now to meet with my dad and mah. I have to use the Porsche because Tamia needs the bigger car with the kids. Their mothers have been trying to phone me all week and all morning. I’m ignoring them. They didn’t have the decency to phone me and tell me that they are bringing the kids. Now that all my kids are with me, I have no reason to speak to them. The only reason I ever picked up their calls is because they had my kids. Now that the woman that I love is the one who has all of my children, I only pick up her calls. 

I arrive at Senzi’s house. I make my way in. Wandi meets me at the door. We hug then she directs me to where everyone is sitting. MaNdlovu is here with them – not MaTango today. Wandi has a dress on and a doek. She really loves my brother. She respects my family. She introduced me to the love of my life. She’s a real one. 

She serves me juice. 

She tells us that she is preparing lunch. My mom comes in with biscuits for our juices. I also notice two teapots and some teacups as well as sugar. She was worth every cent that my brother paid lobola for her with. 

“Ntuthuko, we are here to resolve your matters. You’ve told me what’s going on. Please bring your mother and your grandmother up to speed so that we can advise as we see fit. The idea is to make a decision here, then we can go to Tamia and have a conversation with her at her place. We would’ve asked you to come with her, but we needed to talk to you first, and we also understand that her hands are full with the kids.” My dad says. 

It’s just him, my mom and my grandmother. Senzi is somewhere in the house and Wandi is in the kitchen. I don’t know why Senzi isn’t in this meeting. He’s my brother. My dad says it’s because he’s younger than me. But so what? I was part of his things when he was completing his cultural marriage to Wandi and other cultural obligations.

“Ngiyezwa, baba. Bengicela nokuthi uSenzi abekhona. I know he is my younger brother. But I trust him. And I trust him to walk this road with me as an elder and an advisor.” I say. 

My dad smiles at me then nods his head. 

“Love, please fetch Senzi for us”, my dad says to my mom.

She nods her head then steps out.

After a few minutes, she returns with Senzi. He briefly greets me with a handshake then sits next to MaNdlovu. 

“Senzangakhona, umfowenu asked that you be part of this conversation as an elder and an adviser.” My dad.

Senzi nods his head.

“Ntuthuko will now bring uMaNdlovu nomama wenu up to speed with why this meeting is being called. I’m sure that you are already briefed.” My dad.

We hear Akwande and Wandi briefly chatting. 

I begin…

“Bant’abadala, I’ve recently met umuntu engithandana naye. We haven’t been with each other for too long, kodwa I can comfortably say that I’m ready to make her my wife.” 

“Hawu! When you say you haven’t been together for long, how long are we talking here?” MaNdlovu asks me.

“About three months.” I answer her.

“And you already want to marry her? Udlisiwe yini?” 

I look at my dad. He shakes his head indicating that I shouldn’t respond to that question. 

“Since this woman has come into my life, she has definitely encouraged me to plan towards eventually taking my children and living with them. As we all know, I have four children with four different mothers. For a long time, I’ve barely had a relationship with them and have been sending a lot of money to their mothers in the hope of them looking after the kids. When Tamia came into my life and realised the kind of relationship that I have with my children and with their mothers, she helped me to set up the foundation for getting them back eventually. That included me not directly giving these mothers money as and when they ask for it above and beyond the monthly maintenance money that I give them. For example, now I pay school fees directly to the schools. And I’ve learned that the mothers have been lying about the school fees. They’d add on their own money on top of the fees. I now pay for their transport to get to school directly. I buy them the clothes then take it to the kids instead of giving the money to the parents. And I buy lunchbox groceries for the kids.” 

“Tamia told you to do that?” MaNdlovu.

“Yebo gogo.”

“Does Tamia have children?”

“Cha gogo.”

“So, someone who doesn’t have children, told you how to father your children with the mothers of those children? And in the event of a fallout should they not agree with another woman controlling the father of their children, what will happen? Is there a plan to manage this impact on the children?” MaNdlovu.

“Gogo! la bantu badla imali yami for themselves. My only responsibility is the children, not their mothers or the other children that surround them in the houses they are growing up in!” I say.

“Weh!” She yells and claps once. 

“These mothers then took the kids and dumped them on Tamia at work”, I say.

“Bam’layile. Uyaphapha loTamia wakho! Who does she think she is?!” What’s wrong with this old woman?

“Who does she think she is?! She is the woman who bought clothes and essentials for my kids without me even asking her because the mothers you are siding with left their kids with a woman they don’t even know and didn’t even leave so much as a toothbrush! That woman is housing my kids, created a home for them and is being a mother to each of them without my permission. She actually cares about their well-being and she is going to be my wife.” I’m very annoyed now. 

My dad and Senzi notice. 

My mom clears her throat then says, “I think what Tamia has done is beautiful. So, what would you like to do moving forward?”

“Thank you, mah. I feel bad that we are all in her house. I’m also humbled by how she’s just taken the role of their mother and ran with it. It would be great if we could fast-track the urgency around paying her lobola. That way, I can buy a house, live with her then legally fight for my children to live with us.” I say.

“Legally?! Angizwa kahle.” MaNdlovu.

“Is Tamia on board with this?” Mom asks me.

“Yeah. We’ve spoken about it. She’s prepared to live with the kids and I full time. She also finds it disruptive for the kids to be moved around all the time when their mothers feel like acting up. Plus, their environments where their mothers stay are not ideal. It explains why they’ve been extorting me all this time as if I raped them.” I say.

“So, you’ve discussed this with everyone but the mothers of the kids? And I’m still waiting for you to explain what you mean by fighting them legally.” MaNdlovu. 

“It means I’m going to a court of law and apply for full custody of all of my children. The law will give me full custody. Tamia and I will be their primary caregivers. Futhi Tamia is a lawyer. She will help me.” I say.

“Heh! Shaka! Are you listening to this?! Uyohlukanisa izingane nomama wazo ngenxa yentombi nje?! Ngizwa kahle?!” MaNdlovu. 

“Ngicabanga ukuthi ugogo mhlambe uyithatha kabi le ndaba. UTamia is just encouraging ubhuti ukuthi angabi ubaba that throws money at children and call it being a parent. She’s encouraging him to play a critical role in their development as children and as people. Ubhuthi has rights to his kids – rights that omama bezingane zakhe have not been giving him. To them, ubhuti must just send money as and when they request it without asking any questions. Ubhuti is not compelled to looking after anyone that’s not his child and he is well within his rights to make a decision about his money without affecting his kids. Ubhuti is in a position to look after the kids better than what the mothers are doing, and he wants to do that. He won’t deny the mothers access to the kids completely, kodwa he wants stability for them. Tamia helps him provide that stability. And in as much as ubhuti has to co-parent with women he is not married to, it has to be respectful and considerate of the woman that’s currently in his life”, Senzi explains. He’s so calm and diplomatic. 

“Why don’t you marry these girls, Ntuthuko? Isithembu is not a bad idea in this situation.” MaNdlovu.

“No thank you.” Me. 

“Because of Tamia?” MaNdlovu.

“And what if it’s because of her, gogo? What is your problem vele when it comes to Tamia? I love her. Why is that wrong to you?” Me.

“Kokuqala, don’t talk to me like that. Ngizokusakaza ngempama uhlanye mfana. Secondly, what family is going to give you their successful daughter who has no kids, when you bring four kids and not as much success as she does to the marriage? Did you ever think about that? And thirdly, I’m thinking about the kids here. You and Tamia have no right to separate them from their mothers. Yes, their mothers have made some mistakes. Kodwa ukubathathela izingane pho? Isn’t that a bit extreme?” MaNdlovu.

“It wasn’t extreme when they were taking more money from me than what SARS was taking. It wasn’t extreme when they dumped their very children on Tamia with no phone call, no plan, nothing! What kind of mothers do that?!” Me.

“Speaking of the family issue…. Did you do some background checks on her people?” My dad.

“No. Not yet.” Me.

“Well, I did. She’s Mave’s daughter.” My dad.

“Mave?” Me.

“Mave Khumalo. He’s a business tycoon from Mpumalanga. He dabbles in helping the church out from time to time, but he holds no serious role in the business. He helps us clean the money through charity work, fundraisings and beauty pageants across townships and villages in Mpumalanga and Limpopo. Tamia is his only daughter. He won’t be kind. But we can work him”, my dad says.

I nod my head. 

“Have you and Tamia decided where you’ll live? Here or the kingdom?” My mom.

“She has work this side.” I say.

“We have law firms in the kingdom too”, my dad.

“I’ll talk to her.” Me.

“What’s the plan with the kids?” MaNdlovu.

“Tamia got them tutors and registered them for home-schooling for the rest of the year. It will give us enough time to decide on schools for next year. But they are not going back to their mothers.” I say.

“Ja! Ukuhamba ukubona!” MaNdlovu. 

I wonder what her issue is with Tamia. She doesn’t even know her. 

We had lunch at Wandi’s and Senzi’s house. My parents and MaNdlovu are all sleeping here again today. But for now, we are headed to my baby’s place. I phoned her and told her we are on our way because my parents want to speak to her. I warned her that crazy MaNdlovu is with us and she didn’t take her meds all week. She said she’d be ready when we arrive. 

We arrive at her place. We park our two cars that we came in and we head inside. My kids are still in their classes with their tutors or teachers or whatever these white people call themselves. Thulisa is learning in Tamia’s study. Nkosana is learning in the open dining area. Bonga is learning in the patio. Sihle is getting around in her baby walker. 

My dad picks her up from the walker and greets her. She starts crying. She only likes Tamia this child. 

“Sanibonani”, Tamia greets us. She looks… yerrr! She’s in a blue body-hugging dress. It’s a long dress – maxi dress. It has short sleeves. It’s nice. Then she has a doek on. But her weave is peaking underneath. Thank God it’s black and not blonde. I know MaNdlovu would have made her feel shitty about it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Tamia.” My mom. 

Wandi hugs her. My dad shakes her hand. MaNdlovu just sits down, taking her house in. Tamia’s house is very nice. Not even MaNdlovu can hate. Akwande hugs her as well. 

“We would like to talk to you if you don’t mind, please.” My dad. 

Tamia nods her head. 

Wandi and Akwande disappear. Tamia sits next to me.  MaNdlovu wants to say something, but I give her eyes. So does my dad. 

“UNtuthuko tells us that things between the two of you have become serious… serious to the point where you are happy to look after our children and become his wife.” My dad.

Tamia looks at me in shock. 

“You were serious about getting married now?” She whispers to me, laughing. 

I can’t help but laugh too. My dad smiles at us.

“I was.” I say.

She looks at my dad and says, “Yebo baba. I love Ntuthuko and I do want to spend the rest of my life with him… him and everything that he comes with.” She says. 

I just want to kiss her.

“Well, we will be ready to pay lobola next weekend. We will send our letter tomorrow.” My dad.

She smiles. 

“And we just want to say thank you for looking after our children. We really appreciate you.” My dad.

Tamia nods her head. 

The kids come sprinting into the TV room where we are sitting. 

“Mama, it’s break time. Can we have our lunch?” Nkosana says with the other two behind him.

“Yes, you may, but first say hi to abant’ abadala.” Tamia.

“Hello”. Nkosana.

“Hello.” Thulisa.

“Hi.” Bonga. 

My dad gets emotional. Eish.

“Sanibonani. Ngingumkhulu wenu.” My dad. 

The kids look at Tamia for further instructions, not even me – their biological parent. 

“Don’t you want to give your mkhulu and your gogo a big hug? Go say hi.” Tamia says to them.

They hesitate a bit, looking at Tamia for reassurance. Then they go. My dad hugs them very emotionally. My mom too. MaNdlovu is not happy AT ALL. 

“Nibahle njani”, mom tells them. 

“Thank you.” They say.

“Niziphatheni kahle. Siyanithanda.” My dad.

They nod their heads. They go back to Tamia. 

“Can we…?” Thuli.

“Okay. Your lunch bags are where they stay in the kitchen, and each lunch bag has all your lunch neh.” Tamia.

“Thank you, mama.” They says. The part that gets all of us is how they kiss her when they say thank you, then they sprint off. 

My mom is sold. I instantly see it. 

My dad has BEEN sold! 

MaNdlovu… I don’t know.

I just hold Tamia’s hand.