Zelda

My maternity leave has to be cut short because I am starting my training with K-pable-C Bars. In the next two months, I’ll be managing one of their branchesin Fourways. I am excited.

But on the personal side, Mthunzi and I are in a weird place. The resurfacing of Sindi in our lives hasn’t done us any favours and it irks me that he plays straight into her games every time. I guess she has been with him for years, so she knows which buttons to press to have him dancing to her tune. I suppose the expectation is that I play my cards too and remind him why he chose me. But I shouldn’t have to do that. He should know why he left Sindi in the first place and why he chose to marry me. If I have to remind him of that every time, this marriage will exhaust me. I am very happy that today I am actually going get out of the house and have other things occupy my attention. I will think less about Mthunzi and Sindiswa.

I have just finished my yoga session. This is what I do to try and lose all of this baby fat. I run in the mornings then come back to the house to do some yoga. I actually want to make sure that I do not lose this momentum. It is important to me that I look good when I am the face of K-pable-C Bars, Fourways.

I shower and get ready. I wear pastel blue high waist pants with a white tank top and a light white cardigan jersey. I will be wearing block heels. I quickly plait my hair into cornrows, so I can throw on a wig. Then I do my makeup. Wig – something straight and long: I come in peace, but I do mean business.

I make it to breakfast and I find Mfundo, my parents and Thingo. I don’t know where Mthunzi is and my heart drops a bit.

“You look beautiful”, my mom says.

“Thanks mama”, I say.

Mfundo smiles at me.

My mom made breakfast and it looks good. I dig in with Thingo on my lap. He is growing so much. He is almost four months and he is a healthy baby. Some days he looks like Mohavi then some days he is the spitting image of Mfundo and Mthunzi. But he is mine and I love him with all of my heart. Because of how I lost Mohavi – believing that I had time to get my life in order then be his mother and live with him – I hold Thingo longer. I spend more time with him. I pay attention to everything about him. I make sure that he knows that he is mine. And he loves me. When he is in my arms, he is safe and comfortable. I love it.

“Mah, ubaba left for work. He said he’d fetch me from school though.” Mfundo tells me.

“But I’m most likely going to finish early. Don’t you want me to fetch you? Or are you too cool for me?” I say.

He laughs.

“Never. But fight with him about it.” Mfundo says.

We all chat about this and that then it is time for Mfundo and me to leave. My mom has already started ordering our domestic worker around. I don’t like this about my mom. It gives me PTSD of when I was still working for Sindi as her domestic worker. Every day I have to debrief Petunia to ensure her that my mom is like this and she shouldn’t pay any mind to her. She is sweet because she understands, but it doesn’t make it right.

I arrive at the K-pable-C training facilities and park my Mercedes Benz next to some Porsche. Where do all these people work? I don’t understand how the parking lot looks like this yet we are all here to be trained to actually work. I make it to registration and register. When I am done, I go look for the lecture hall I am due to attend my first class at – business management. It is full of gay men and a lot of women who remind me of Sindi.

“Hello gorgeous”, some guy greets me.

I smile at him. He’s gay. He is wearing a white suit and he is just hot. You can tell that he is either a stylist himself or he has a stylist.

“I’m Phumi”, he says.

“I’m Zelda”, I say.

“You are gorgeous. Come, sit next to me.”

I do as he says. His skin is out of this world. Wow.

“I have the Sandton Branch”, he says.

“Fourways“, I say.

“Good! At least you don’t have Midrand. You know Midrand is the new ghetto right?” he says.

I laugh.

My phone rings. It is Mthunzi. I don’t even feel like taking his call, but let me be a wife.

“Hey”, I answer his call, standing up and moving away from people so I can have some privacy.

“Hey baby. Are you good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got into class.” I tell him.

“Okay. I’m sorry you missed me at breakfast. Things are a bit hectic at the office. I had to come in early.” He says.

I sigh. He hears it. Why am I suddenly feeling emotional?

“I miss you, Koena.” He says.

“You are going to make me cry and I am in class”, I say.

“At least tell me that we will be okay.” He says.

“I’m sure we will.” I say.

“I love you, Koena”, him.

“I love you too, Mthunzi“. Me.

“Babe, by the way –

“Yeah?”

“The gate just called me about someone who is there and is saying that she is headed to our house. Apparently that person says that they are your sister. The name is Keba-something.” He tells me.

I freeze over the phone.

“Baby?”

“Kebaabetswe?” I clarify.

“Yeah. That sounds like what the security was struggling to say.”

“She’s my sister. The one who has been in prison. How did she find out where we stay?”

“I don’t know, love. But I am going to tell them to let her in. She’s family. We don’t turn family away. I will be home a little late today, so that might give you, your sister and your parents some space to talk. Do you need me to take the boys and bring them to the office with me?”

“No, it’s okay. I will deal with it when I get home.”

“Okay love. Please phone your mother and at least warn her.” He says.

“I will. And I’ll ask Petunia to prepare the cottage for her to stay in. It won’t be for long. I’ll have her out of the house by the end of the week.”

“No, baby. Don’t do that. She can stay as long as she needs to. I really don’t mind.”

“We’ll see.”

We hang up.

Class starts. By the time I get to my last class of the day, Brand Management and Marketing, I have met two more friends and am still thinking about the return of my sister. I met my new friends because they are Phumi’s friends. Phumi just pulled me into the crew. The crew consists of myself, Phumi, Lulu and Peaches. Peaches refuses to share her real name, so she insists that we call her Peaches. I tell them I have to go pick up my son from school. It baffles them that I am married, have a teenage son and a four month old son.

On my drive to pick up Mfundo, I get a call from Sindi. I really need to block this woman. She is annoying and I am still stressed out about the situation I need to deal with at home.

“Hi Sindi”, I say.

“Hi Zelda. Please do me a favour. Mthunzi had called me and we got cut because I had to attend to a client. Please tell him that I am thankful for him checking in on Siya and me. I’m sorry I had to end the call so abruptly.”

I am quiet. I am fuming. I hang up the call.

…

Mthunzi

My wife phones me. I am in a meeting. I think about sending her a message and telling her that I will call her back. But we have been in such a bad place and she never initiates conversations with me, so when she does, I should pick up. She’s probably going to talk to me about her sister who has a rather tough name. I have decided that I will call her KB. That tongue-twister she has as a name stresses me a bit.

“Hey baby.” I answer my phone as I step out of the boardroom.

“I have a message for you. Sindi asked me to tell you that she is thankful for you checking up on her and Siya. She says she apologises for having to end the call so abruptly. She had a client.” Koena is pissed. Her tone is so cold – I do not even know how to start explaining myself to her. By the time I have gathered myself to respond to her, she has hung up.

Sindi is full of shit!

Everyone is walking out of the boardroom, so the meeting has clearly ended.

“Mthunzi, do you have a minute?” Elle says to me.

I am still thrown off by this call. I look at her. In my head I am responding, but nothing is coming out of my mouth.

“Mthunzi?” Elle.

“Let’s go chat in my office”, I say.

I lead her to my office. I try to call Koena back, but she is not answering my calls. I call Mfundo, his phone is off. Shit!

I’d call Sindi and ask her what she is trying to do, but that’s what got me in this position in the first place.

We walk into my office and I am still trying to call Koena, but she is ignoring my calls.

“Everything okay?” Elle asks me.

It hits me. I am supposed to be talking to her right now.

“Sorry about that, how can I help you?” I say as I sit on one of my couches.

“Maybe we should talk about what’s bothering you first, so we can get it out of the way. We are in a crisis and I need your chest offloaded and your attention undivided.” She says.

“My ex-wife phoned my wife and told her stuff that makes me look like…”

She sees that I cannot finish my sentence. Elle looks at me for a while then she says, “What does your ex-wife want? Does she want you back?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that she is going to ruin my marriage if she carries on like this.”

“Like what?”

“She came to me a few months ago asking me to accompany her to our daughter’s graveyard. My wife didn’t seem to have an issue, so I went with her. We shared a daughter, so that’s obviously a painful spot in both our lives and we were there for each other that day, emotionally.” Elle raises her eyebrow at me. When I told this story to Tom, he understood what I was saying. Elle is reacting differently. Clearly, she may give me insight on what Koena is thinking and honestly, I’ll take anything right now.

“Then she came to my house and told me she was leaving, so she wanted to say goodbye. Koena was livid.”

Elle is looking at me like I am shady now. I am obviously not telling her about the apology that Sindi gave me.

“Then she called me on Koena’s phone telling me that Siya wanted to talk to me because he misses me.”

Now she is looking at me like she wants to beat me up.

“When I told this to Thomas, he advised me to phone my ex-wife and ask her what it would take for her to get out of my life permanently. The ex-wife phoned the wife and told her I was checking in on her and Siya. Now Koena hung up on me and will not take any of my calls.”

“Well, what are you going to say? That you can explain? That it’s not what it looks like? And I can’t believe that Thomas told you to do that. Are you crazy?” She says.

I lean back against my couch. My entire body collapses.

“Mthunzi, if you are done with your ex-wife, be done with your ex-wife. Or are you waiting for Koena to leave you before you realise what is at stake here?”

I jump off my couch, because, and I tell her, “I’m not losing my wife”.

“Then stop acting like you’d be okay if you did.”

“How am I doing that?”

“You were there for each other emotionally? Are you serious? That’s where you opened the floodgates for that woman to get close to you every chance she getsand disrespect your wife. She knows what she’s doing and she knows that you won’t see it, but your wife will. We are women. We don’t just do things oblivious to how they will be received. She’s basically telling your wife that her marriage to you is on borrowed time and you are helping her sing the chorus.”

I’m so lost.

“Be done with your ex-wife. She wants your attention and you keep giving it to her. She knows you will react to her provoking your wife and you do it all the time. Just leave her alone. Let her play this game by herself. She will eventually get tired and leave you alone.”

“But, I don’t want her talking to my wife”.

“Why? Scared she will let a few things slip? Things that your wife shouldn’t know?”

Huh?

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Then stop giving this woman so much of your attention and energy. I’m not even Koena and I’m annoyed.” A bit dramatic, but okay.

“So what do I do?” I ask her because I am actually looking for a call to action here, not just her judgment.

“Trust that your wife is tougher than she looks. She will only have enough confidence to deal with this ex-wife of yours if you stop keeping the ex-wife confident enough to disrespect your wife. Us women know how to deal with each other. You just make your wife look bad because you allow your ex-wife to deal with her through you.”

Whatever that means. I have gained nothing from this conversation, absolutely nothing. But I will go out on a limb and say my biggest mistake was responding to Sindi in the first place.

We have our meeting then at 3pm, I leave to go home to my wife because I stopped being productive the minute she gave me that call. I was supposed to work until late and perhaps give Koena some space to deal with KB. But, I need to see her and speak to her before I lose my mind.

When I get home, I find her in our dining room. She seems to be doing an assignment or something. Thingo’s cot is next to her. Thingo is in there, sleeping. I put my laptop bag on a chair closest to me, then I sit opposite her. She looks at me. She almost studies me. I don’t even know what to say to her.

“Am I lacking somewhere?”

Excuse me? How can she even ask me that? And honestly, what am I supposed to say?

“I’m asking because it seems you want to go back to Sindi. Why don’t you just go back and leave me out of the process?”

What’s wrong with this woman?

“I don’t want Sindi. I want you.” I say.

“Why are you lying? Why? You use Mbali’s memory to do activities with her, now you use Siya – a child that’s not yours, mind you – to talk to her.”

First of all, she agreed to me going to Mbali’s graveyard with Sindi. If she had a problem with that, she should have said something, so I’m not even going to apologise for that. And secondly, the Siya thing is not true. But why am I not telling her this? Why is this a conversation I’m having with myself in my head when she is the one who needs to hear it?

“Mthunzi, when you look at me, do you see a woman onkam’tlwayelang masepa?” She’s swearing at me in tswana? Kubi!

“Koena, I don’t appreciate your language. I didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing going on between Sindi and I. You said I could take her to Mbali’s graveyard. When did you decide that you had a problem with this?” I finally askher.

“Why are you still phoning her?” She deviates from my question.

“I was calling her to ask her what it would take to get her to leave us alone”, I say.

She raises her eyebrow at me like Elle did. I wish I knew what this means.

“Mthunzi”

“Baby”

“O bona ngwana when you look at me?”

Huh?

“Do I look like a child to you?”

I shake my head. I don’t understand why she is asking me this.

“I’m your wife, Mthunzi. Can you at least acknowledge that?”

“But Koena, I see you as the love of my life. You are more than just my wife.” I say.

“Really?” She sarcastically asks me.

“Koena”, I’m getting tired now.

She looks at me.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask her.

“I want you and Sindiswa to stop provoking me. You don’t want to know or see what I will do when provoked. Wena leSindiswa, lehlokoloza lepantsula, my love.” I have never heard my wife sound this dangerous in my life. EVER!

She is now back to attending her assignment. I don’t even know how to react.

Someone I don’t know walks into the TV room through the sliding door from the cottage. She looks like Koena, but has stronger features of their father. Koena’s features are more from her mother. I assume this is KB.

“Dumelang”, she greets me. Listen, we not doing this tswana thing in my house. I don’t understand the language and quite frankly, I am not going to pretend like I do. This is a Msomi household. We say “Sawubona” around here. Plus, I just got sworn at and threatened in tswana. Come to think of it, KB gets out of jail and spends less than 24 hours with Koena, now Koena has a gangster unleashed in her. I really hope she’s going back to Mafikeng with the parents because I can do without the influence in my house.

“Sawubona sisi”, I say.

“Ke nna Kebaabetswe”, she says.

Let me stop this very quickly before it goes too far.

“I don’t understand tswana, sisi.” I say.

Koena is not even mediating here. She is just busy with her assignments and pretending like no one else is in the room.

“Sorry. I am Kebaabetswe. But you can call me Keba.” She says.

Keba it is then.

“Mthunzi. Nice to meet you. And you are welcome in our home.”

“Thank you.”

She turns around and looks at her sister.

“I’m ready to go”, Keba says.

“Where are you guys going?” I ask. It is 4pm.

“To pick up my kids. I am going back to Mafikeng with them when our parents head back.” She says.

“Oh okay. Would you like me to drive you ladies, babe?” I address my wife.

She gives me a look. Eish!

“I’m sure you can drive us there. My baby-daddy might need the manpower”, Keba says.

I was honestly just trying to get one word out of my wife. I would have even accepted a “No, Mthunzi. We will drive down together.” Now, I need to go and be manpower to an ex-convict’s baby-daddy? Listen! I am not prepared for this.

…

We arrive at some house in Glen Vista. It is a very nice house. Koena is sitting in the front seat next to me while I drive. Keba is sitting in the backseat.

“Are you going to be fine on your own?” Koena asks her.

Please say yes.

“It’s not me that I am worried about. The most that can happen to me is that I go back to prison. That’s not a nightmare for me anymore. I am more worried about that damn dog if he gives me a tough time about taking my kids.”

The shock on both Koena’s and my face are indescribable!

Why am I here? Why? But also, how was Koena going to come here and deal with the issues of two lunatics without me?

Koena and I are now jumping out of the car and following Keba in. The gate opens and we walk in behind her.

After two knocks, some woman opens the door. She looks like she just woke up from a nap.

“Hi.” Koena greets so politely.

“Hello”, the woman responds with attitude.

“Is Patrick home? We need to talk to him about Sethati and Oratilwe”, Koena humbly explains.

“Is he expecting you?” The woman.

“Get the fuck out of my way! My sister is trying to be nice here and you are busy asking us nonsense. I don’t want to fuck your man. I just want my kids. Where are my kids?” Keba is already inside the house and the woman is shocked and still at the door with us.

“Sethati! Oratilwe!” Keba is yelling. Ja no, these names. I’m glad my son has a Zulu name. Ngeke!

“They are busy with school work! And you are making a noise!” The woman.

“Sethati! Oratilwe!” Keba continues to shout.

“Kebaabetswe! Stop this! Sethati and Oratilwe do not need this drama.” Koena intervenes in this madness.

“Drama? These are my kids, Koena!”

“Patrick has not refused for you to take them. I said I’d help you if he refuses. But you need to calm down and deal with this amicably.” Damn! I love my wife.

A man comes running down the stairs with a train of kids running behind him. This must be Patrick.

“Keba?”

“Hello Patrick!”

“When did you come out?”

“You lost the right to ask me that question the day you stopped visiting me and kept my kids away from my family and me. I am back now, and I want them.”

“They are not a commodity that you just move as and when you please. They are kids. Teenage kids. They don’t even remember you.”

“That’s because you made sure that they don’t remember me. But I am their mother –

“Mama?” A boy says. I don’t know where he came from.

“Sethati. Hello my son.” Keba says. She is getting emotional. Wow, she actually has a soft side.

“Is this our mom?” A girl next to him asks.

“Yes Oratilwe. I am your mother and I have come for you.” Keba says. She looks like she is going to breakdown any minute now.

“You not taking my kids anywhere”. Patrick says.

“Patrick! Have you forgot what I was arrested for? Would you like to be another number like your brother?” Hai guys! Hai! Keba is not real! How is this even real life? How does someone who has been out for a few hours threaten to make people numbers like their brothers? I clearly got the sane sister.

“Are you threatening me in my house?” Patrick is also too brave for my liking.

“Patrick! We have come to ask you if we could please take Oratilwe and Sethati for a few days. Their mother has just come out of prison and we thought it would be nice for them to reconnect again.” Koena, MY WIFE, intervenes.

“Why would we want to go anywhere with this jailbird?” The daughter.

Ja no, I should have stayed my ass at home with my boys or at work with Thomas and Thami. This is too much for me.

“Oratilwe, she’s a jailbird, but she’s your mother. She wants to try again. She wants to be there for you. She has missed out on so much of your life and she will never make up for all the lost time. But she wants to try and build with the second chance that she has been given to be your mother again.” Koena tries.

“It’s not for her to decide. I have a test that I need to prepare for that I am writing tomorrow then I have movies with my friends later in the day. She cannot just walk back in here and complicate our lives.” The daughter.

“Okay. And we won’t force you. The important thing is that you understand that she came here to open the door, hoping that you will come in and give her a chance – give a relationship with her a chance. If you are not ready, we understand. When you are ready – any time, just come back to her. Please.” Koena. Guys, I married a queen!

“Koena –

“Keba please!”

Silence. The daughter is crying.

“If it’s okay, I would like to leave with you guys today and maybe spend the week with you. We can see how it goes.” The boy says.

“I’d really love that, my boy.” Keba says.

“What about school?” Patrick.

“Go look outside. There is a very nice, expensive and capable car out there that can do what your cars do when these kids have to go to school. Don’t annoy us!” Keba has zero problem-solving skills! Zero! She must just let Koena handle this.

“Who are you?” Patrick arrogantly asks me.

“Mthunzi Msomi. I am Koena’s husband.” I say.

“Mthunzi Msomi? You work with Thomas Ramaru at that massive Ramarucompany?”

Wow, I’m famous. Mama, I made it!

I nod my head.

“Please look after my son. Here is my business card. Phone me if you need anything.” Patrick says to me, giving me his business card.

“Sure thing.” I accept the business card. I don’t carry any of my business cards with me, so I say, “Do you have another one? I can write my number down so you can contact me if you need anything.”

He hands me another card. This is a weird man. Who carries their business cards to their kitchen from their study? I will actually google this organisation that he works for. I might think that this is a parent thing, but homeboy might be shooting a shot at business here. I mean, he knows me by name. LOL!

We leave the house with both kids and their bags. I guess the sister decided to come too, or maybe the brother convinced her. That was a lot! I am never doing these trips or any other trips concerning Keba ever again.

When we get home, Koena dives for a glass of wine after she has settled Keba’s kids. The daughter will be sleeping in the guest bedroom downstairs and the son will be sharing a room with Mfundo. They both don’t mind and they both seem to have clicked well with each other. The boy is about Mfundo’s age anyway. I look at Koena as she downs the wine.

“How do you feel about your sister being here?” I ask her.

She looks at me, fills up another glass with wine and downs it like she’s downing water. I am not even sure if she is stressed about me or her sister at this point. She starts crying. What the hell?

“Koena?”

She downs another glass of wine. I take the wine from her. She tries to walk, but she falls because obviously, after drinking four glasses of wine in less than twenty minutes, you are drunk!

“Baby, what’s going on?” I ask her. I am actually scared now. What’s wrong with her?

She just cries. I carry her to our bedroom in our arms and cuddle her on our bed, trying to calm down this cry of hers that is becoming tenser by the minute. I think it’s time the Letsoalos went back to Mafikeng.