“I remember it was around this area”, I say. 

Wandi and I are sitting at the back. Khotso and Senzi are sitting in the front. Khotso is driving. Rena and Moloko are at Wandi’s house with the domestic workers. Khotso trusts them. They used to work at the royal house, and he recommended them for us. 

We are in the dodgiest of places in Ethwathwa. This place is called Barcelona. It’s just shacks everywhere. It’s filthy. There are no roads. They just took a sganga and put shacks on it. People are selling stuff; some are just living their lives. We are here to look for my dad. Khotso is serious about this lobola thing, so we have to find him. I would have asked my mother’s side of the family. I know where they are – street name, street number, konke. But I hate them. All of them. They do not deserve the respect that Khotso wants to give to people who raised me. My father didn’t raise me neither. But at least he did not abuse me, rape me, or allow people around him to rape me as a child. He just left. Hopefully, after taking the Mohale money and making sure that I don’t have bad luck in my marriage to Khotso, he will disappear again. I’d love to have a relationship with him, but I also don’t want to get my hopes up. He left us. He didn’t just leave my mother… he left me too. What makes me think that he will want me now? He has other kids that he loves, and he forgot all about me… his eldest daughter… if I’m even that!

“I just don’t know which shack to go to”, I say. 

Wandi holds my hand. 

“You guys need to go back to the house. I need to do this on my own.” I say.

“Mah!”

“Wandisa ukhulelwe. I shouldn’t be exposing you to this. You need to be at home resting! And I don’t know if I’m ready for you guys to see this part of me.” 

“We are your kids! Bab’Khotso is about to be your husband! What are you still hiding from us?” 

“Wandi, I don’t want you here. Please respect that! Please.” I snap. 

“You two go ahead. I’ll stay with her”, Khotso says.

“I don’t want you here neither, Khotso”. 

“Well, you are not doing this alone. Not after what you’ve told me. So, it’s either we all stay, or it’s just me. Take your pick.” 

I’m annoyed. 

“I’m with Bab’Khotso on this one”, Wandi.

I just get out of the Maserati. 

The car drives off. 

Khotso is with me. 

I take a deep breath. 

“I’ve organised a car for us. It’s on its way.” He says.

Mxm!

After asking around for about an hour – even our car arrived while we were still searching – we finally find my dad’s shack. It’s so…. And everyone who lives here is so cadaverous – well, the people we see.  

Khotso parks this black Jeep in front of the shack. There’s no gate. There’s nothing. The shack is falling apart. I’m instantly down. Khotso looks like he feels for me. 

I get out of the car. 

Khotso is right behind me. 

The door is open. 

“Knock knock.” I shout at the door. 

Khotso has one hand on my lower back. 

“Sanibonani”, some lady says as she sees us. She came from somewhere in this place… behind some curtain even. 

“Sawubona mama. Sifunana noTobias Ngwenya.” I say.

“UTobias wami? Indoda yami? Umncane kanje?! Ntombazane, amasimba engizokwenza wona for ukudlalela kwindoda yami! Umncane kanje?! Rha!” She’s yelling at me.

Khotso and I look at each other. He really wants to laugh. But I’m quite irritated. Why would I want her man when mine has his hand located on my lower back? And did she not see the car parked outside? Or how I’m dressed? Or my Hermes Birkin bag? I have a handbag that costs over R800 000 on my arm, a car that costs more than the value of her life, and a man who’s a prince next to me… what the fuck am I doing with a man who lives in such conditions?!

“EY WENA SFEBE NDINI?!” She’s still yelling.

“Mah, uTobias Ngwenya ubaba wami. Ngifuna ubaba wami.” I say.

To say that she’s shocked would be an understatement. Khotso is busy laughing under his breath here. What’s funny?! I don’t understand!

She finally lets us in. 

The kitchen and TV room are in one room. There’s only one two-seater couch and a crate. Khotso sits on the crate. I just stand. 

“Can I offer you water? Our juice is finished”, she says.

“Cha mama, siyabonga. Ukhona ubaba?” Me. 

“I’ll call him.” She says. 

She heads behind the curtain. 

She’s talking to some man. 

I can’t believe my dad lives in such conditions – especially because I can more than afford to give him so much more than all of this. I guess it serves him right for just leaving my mom and me when I was just a kid. But you know what… I can’t be like that. I did enough time in prison as well as away from my only child to be this judgemental without hearing his side of the story. I know my mom’s side of the story very well. She made sure that I knew it so well that I could recite it in my sleep. I haven’t heard anything from him. I’m angry, but I’ve lived enough to know when compassion and mercy are due. These living conditions… they are a cry for mercy and compassion. 

He comes out from behind the curtain, limping and smelling like he hasn’t bathed in days. Where is the toilet and bathtub by the way?

“Maphuthi?” He even cries. 

“Sawubona baba. Ngihamba noKhotso. He wants to be my husband.” I say.

My dad shakes Khotso’s hand. Khotso stands up and addresses him with respect that he doesn’t deserve. 

My dad sits on the couch. His girlfriend sits next to him. I’m still standing. Khotso is comfortably sitting on this crate hey! 

I don’t know how to be. 

I don’t know what to say. 

“You are very beautiful, Maphuthi”, the girlfriend. 

“Thank you”, I say. 

“I heard you were in prison”, my dad. 

“I was. I did fifteen years behind bars.” I say.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.” He says.

“Why didn’t you? Why did you even leave mama and me?” 

“Your mom kicked me out and kept me away, Maphuthi.” 

“That’s not true. We needed you. You left us for younger women”.

“I’d never leave my only child willingly”. 

“Mama told me you had many more children. You left us for them and their mothers.”

“You are the only child that I’ve ever had, Maphuthi. I lost my job and could no longer provide for you and your mother. She kicked me out and called me useless. She told me to stay away. I’ve never been able to tell my side of the story to you.”

“What about when I was in prison? I was grown. Mom died at some point. Why didn’t you come and see me? Tell me your side of the story?”

“I didn’t think you still wanted me”, he says.

“Baba, mom’s brother raped me. From when I was twelve years old. It never stopped until I ran away. Her sisters protected him, including mama. They did that because you were not there to protect me anymore. That’s what you left me to.”

He gets emotional. 

I’m emotional too. 

“I don’t want them in my life. I don’t want them part of this journey. I love Khotso. He loves me. He wants to marry me. And he wants to do the right thing… with you. Do you think you can at least open your heart to that?” I say, wiping my tears. 

“Yebo. Kodwa, I also want me and you to try again. I’m dying, Maphuthi. I’m sick. I can’t afford medication. We live off money that Celia’s children are prepared to give us in a month for groceries. And it’s okay. It’s just… I never thought I’d ever see you again. Kodwa here you are. You are so grown and so beautiful…”

“Yena muhle kakhulu untombo!” Celia says. I didn’t even know her name until he said it. 

“I just want a phone call every now and then. I want my child back.”

Khotso looks at me as if I should do something about his situation. 

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask him. 

“Ey ntombi… it’s kidneys. He needs a donor. He needs dialysis. The clinic sometimes turns us away. So, he’s not getting dialysis the way that he needs it. And as for a kidney donor, I don’t know if he will ever get it.” Celia explains. 

I take a deep breath. 

Khotso looks at me as if to say that we can get a kidney off the organ trading the church runs. I nod my head because I agree with him. But I need to get him to a hospital, and I need him to be treated. 

“Baba, I’ll take you to a hospital. You need medical attention. You’ll go to a private hospital.”

“Maphuthi, that’s not what I want.”

“You are the only surviving parent that I have. I’m not going to lose you. You owe me that much.” I say. 

He sees that I’m serious. 

He nods his head. 

“And I’m getting you out of this place. You can’t live here.” I say.

“Serious?!” Celia is so excited. 

“Maphuthi, cha!” My dad. 

“Why not, Tobias? Ukuzala ukuzelula! Ingane wants to!” Celia.

“This is my child. And I don’t deserve her kindness!” He says, crying. 

Khotso and I look at each other. 

I go to where he is sitting.

I kneel down before him.

“Baba, let me take care of you. Uwena kuphela umzali enginaye! I have three beautiful children. My eldest is Wandisa. She’s expecting a child. Cabanga baba, ngizoba ugogo. Mina! Wena, uzoba ukhokho.”

He laughs.

“My second born uLefatselabarena. We call her Rena for short.”

“Cha, lona linzima igama.” He says.

“Yeah. Yena and my baby, uMoloko, are Khotso’s babies. Umama wabo washona. Kodwa, blood couldn’t make us any closer. They are my babies. You’ll be in their lives too. They can’t wait to meet you. They must find you healthy. They must visit you in a bigger house. UKhotso owasebukhosini. Mabazo lobola, baba, I want you to be proud of your home. Umam’Celia has kids. We all need a home to visit our parents in. Our kids need a home to visit their grandparents, make you run around everywhere and exhaust you. I can afford to help you, baba. I have money. I have a good job. I have a nice home. I have nice cars. How can I be all of that when my father lives like this? Hai baba! Mus’ ukubukisa ngami.” 

He is crying. 

“Kulungile ndodakazi. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I lost my job and couldn’t provide for you like you are providing for me now. I’m sorry I couldn’t take care of you like you are taking care of me now.” He says. 

I just take a deep breath. I stand up. 

“Singahamba?” I say. 

“Okay. Ningasilinda phandle. I’m just getting my bag.” Celia says. 

Khotso and I step outside. 

“I’ve just texted for someone to start looking for a house. It will be in a quiet place, perhaps still in the township. Celia looks like she enjoys the township life.” 

I just laugh. 

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” I ask him.

“Come here”, he says to me. 

I rest on his chest. 

We hug for a while. Then he says, “You did the greatest thing. I’m proud of you.” 

We kiss. 

“We are ready”, Celia says. She’s holding my dad’s hand. 

We open the doors for them. Khotso and I sit in the front. They sit at the back. 

We leave. 

My dad is admitted at a private hospital in Benoni. He even looks better. A lot better! The drip is doing wonders for him. I asked Wandi to bring him pyjamas and toiletries. She walks in with Senzi, Rena and Moloko. They have the stuff. Senzi even has food with him – food for all of us. 

In no time, dad and Celia have met the kids. We are all eating and are chatting together. Khotso confirms that the house has been bought. Celia is so happy, she even dances. Wandi is the one who entertains her. She has an iPad out and she is helping her choose furniture for the place. She’s beside herself shame. 

Nkosinathi walks in. 

We all look at him. 

“Hey baba.” Wandi greets him.

“Kunjani, baby girl?” Nathi.

“I’m good. Umkhulu lo. Mom’s dad. This is glammy Celia.” Wandi.

“I’m happy to meet you.”

“Ubani wena?” My dad.

“UNkosinathi lo, baba. Ubaba kaWandisa wegazi.” I say.

“Ngiyabona. Manje ufunani la?” 

“He’s a doctor.”

“A specialised physician. I’ll be working with your nephrologist to make sure that you heal well.” Nathi says. 

“You are using words I don’t understand.” My dad. 

“I’m part of the doctors that will be helping you, baba.” Nathi. 

“Cha. Umkhwenyana yena uthini?” My dad.

This hurts Nathi a bit. Khotso giggles. I’m glad my dad is receiving Khotso well. 

“Baba, with all due respect –

“He is paying for my stay here. If he’s not happy with you as my doctor, nami angikufuni!” My dad. 

Nathi is pissed.

“It’s okay, baba. Let’s let him do the only thing he probably ever does right.” Khotso. 

Nathi is not okay! 

Wandi and I just look at each other. These two! Hai!

Visiting hour is over. We were here all day, so we don’t give them a hard time when they ask us to leave. 

We leave Celia at her hotel room. We told her that we will be leaving together in the morning. She’s just so happy, shame. I told her she could even eat at the restaurant in the hotel. It’s all paid for. Lol! Khotso and I are staying at the same hotel. Wandi, Senzi, Rena and Moloko leave us here then head back to Wandi’s and Senzi’s place.

…

This is why I honestly love Phuthi… she doesn’t dwell in victim mentality. Yeah, she’s had a rough life, but she doesn’t blame the world for it. She understands that shit happens, and you must just deal with it. I’m most proud of her for how she’s dealing with her dad. She’s helping him out. Today, they are moving into the house that we bought for him. The dad is still in hospital. It seems he’s going to be there for a few more days. The wife is… ja neh. Being around her is honestly like going to a comedy show and not having to pay for it. 

Phuthi wanted to go clean and move shit. Nah! People must stop being stingy with job creation. We got cleaners and movers to do all of that. Senzi and I are at the house overseeing this. Moloko is here with us. The women have gone to the mall to buy groceries and whatever else is still missing. The problem with this is that these movers keep asking us how things should be positioned. I don’t think any of us here are close enough with any woman to understand interior design. We keep telling them to ask the ladies that are cleaning in there for input. We all don’t know. 

Food arrives for us. I ordered for everyone. The movers are very happy; so are the guys that are putting the fence around the house as well as the gates we requested: one pedestrian gate and one big gate leading to the driveway and the double garage. I got them beer with their food. They are very happy. The ladies, I got them Coke, Fanta Orange and Sprite. Senzi said these drinks are usually safe with women. Everyone is eating now. 

Phuthi phones me as we also eat. Moloko is having juice, not beer. Phuthi would kill me if I even gave him a taste. 

“Hey baby”, I answer my phone.

“Hey love. How’s everything going there?” 

“The people are done. The fence and gates are also done. Now we just need to figure our way around the alarm system. The people showed me, so I have to show the owners of the house.” 

“Okay, that’s good. A truck with beds and carpets is going to arrive shortly. They have instructions on where to place the beds and carpets”, she says.

“Baby, how far you guys? The people keep asking me where things should be placed and what they should face. I have no fucking clue on how to direct them.” 

She laughs then says, “We are done shopping. We are just going back to the shack to get clothes that they’ll still want to wear then we are coming.”

“Didn’t you say that you are buying them new clothes?”

“I did buy them new clothes. But they want some of their old clothes.”

“Phuthi, please hurry, babe. Please. I know nothing about interior design. I didn’t even do it in high school as a subject. Please.”

“Baby, an hour tops… we will be there.” She says.

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, baby.” 

We hang up. 

“They need to come back now”, Senzi says texting Wandi. 

Good, he must add pressure. 

“Can I go play with those kids?” When did Moloko get ideas to play? 

“Do you know them?” I ask him.

He shakes his head.

“Okay, I’ll go with you”, Senzi.

“There’s no way that the two of you are leaving me here alone with all of these people. It’s not happening.” I say.

Moloko seems upset. 

Senzi wants to laugh at me. 

This is shit! 

The ladies finally arrive. Now it’s a session of offloading the car and packing things into new cupboards. Celia packs their clothes into the cupboard. Phuthi and Wandi unpack the groceries. We have to carry the washing machine, fridge and weird other essentials. Celia then also puts linen on the beds. The house is very nice. It’s a three-bedroom house. It has two bathrooms. It has a kitchen, dining area, TV room and laundry room. It has a really nice garden as well as a veranda. If I were as old as Phuthi’s dad, that veranda would be my favourite place. 

We got them a domestic worker who will come in every morning then knock off every afternoon. They are old. They shouldn’t be cleaning and all that by themselves. By the time that everyone is done with everything, it’s visiting hour at the hospital, and we must all go to see the old man. That man better not charge me an arm and a leg for lobola. Does he know what I had to go through today? 

…

We were in Gauteng for two weeks. The dad is home and he’s very happy with the house and everything in it. Celia is now acquainted with quite a few people on the street already. We are now headed back to the kingdom. The dad has even said that he’s ready for the lobola date. He even gave me a date. 

Today, we initially came here to say goodbye. But Celia cooked. And she invited her children and their partners.

We all briefly met. The kids hit it off well. The young ones are running around. The teenagers are chilling in the garden outside. 

I’m with the dad in the TV room. He’s watching soccer on the 75inch TV we bought for them. He’s also busy complaining about Celia’s children. She has two sons and one daughter. He keeps saying that he doesn’t want her kids to be frequent in his house because when they were down and out, they were not around; and when they did help by sending R200 once every three months, it was like pulling teeth. I just feel like this lunch will be dramatic. 

Phuthi is in the kitchen, helping Celia cook. She does this everywhere we go. She says it’s because my kids and I have a specific diet. But also, I’m from a royal family. My food is a very sensitive issue and I’m very happy that my woman understands this. 

Phuthi serves my kids and I specifically first. Celia’s kids look at her weird. Oh well. I’m not about to explain myself. Celia gives Phuthi’s dad food. The kids dish up for each other and their children. Now we are all at the table. Moloko, as usual, is next to Phuthi. I swear he thinks that Phuthi is his girlfriend. Phuthi has already cut his meat for him. It helps with the braces situation. 

“Do you see what other kids do for their parents?” Celia says, looking at her kids. 

They don’t say anything.

“That’s why she’s so fortunate. She drives nice cars, she has a lot of money, she lives in nice houses… even her children are beyond blessed. And you know what, her blessings will never end because she looks after her parents. Nina nizophelela la elokshin, driving your small cars and never affording what you think you can afford… living off credit cards and debt all over the place.” 

“Hai mama, sizwile ke! Phuthi is amazing. We get it. You’ve been telling us since two weeks ago.” The daughter. 

“Yes. She’s amazing. She’s an example. What do you do for your family?” Celia. 

Phuthi and I look at each other. 

“Just so we are clear, I don’t expect you to be frequent in my house. I want you to be as scarce as you were when we lived in the shack. I hope this suddenly won’t become the on your way home stop or where you drop your kids when you have things to do. Stay away like you’ve always stayed away.” Phuthi’s dad. I really thought that he was going to keep that shitto himself. 

“You can’t keep us away from our mother”, the daughter. I’m learning that she has the biggest month. 

“I’m not keeping you away from your mother. I’m keeping you away from my house. I have every right to do that.” The dad. 

They are quiet. 

We eat and finish. 

Phuthi does the dishes. The daughter helps her, but they don’t talk much. I’m chilling in the kitchen because I wanted to chat to Phuthi, but hey… there are strangers here. Now I’m just on my phone. I’d go to the TV room, but Phuthi’s dad is here so I’m choking with him. 

By the way, we bought him a car to get around. It’s a Mercedes Benz E-Class and it’s white in colour. Celia complained and said now he’s women issues will start all over again. Apparently, he lives for skirts. Phuthi is not even trying to understand. 

“Mama”, the daughter says to Celia.

Celia looks at her. 

“Can we talk? Privately?” 

“Yini? Uding’ imali?” Celia.

Which part of privately was misunderstood? I don’t want to hear this!

“Hawu mah! Why make an announcement?” 

“When you call me and speak to me with a small voice, I know it’s for money. You are never that nice to me.” Celia. 

The daughter is quiet. 

“How much?” Celia. 

“I need to settle school fees for the kids. I also need to –

“Where does your mother work, Charity?” Phuthi’s dad. 

“I’m talking to my mother, Tobias! Angazi wena ungenaphi!” 

“You are talking to your mother who doesn’t work… who has never worked! That’s who you ask for money. Where do you think that money comes from?”

“Tobias –

“Ungazothi Tobias wena mntwana ndini! Your mother borrows that money from umashonisa. She’s never able to pay it back and as a result, my entire furniture ended up being confiscated by people because of izikoloto zakho! I don’t know why she doesn’t put your house and possessions as collateral! Now you come here. You see my car that my ONLYchild bought for me. You see the house and all this furniture that my child and my mkhwenyana bought for me, and you feel like ubambe i-lotto! Lalela la wena, angizusebenza wena mina! I’m not going to be having people take my possessions because you live a life that you cannot afford. And wena Celia, just know that if you go and borrow any more money for this child, I’ll kick you out of my house niyosogola ninodwa le!” 

Silence. 

“Mama, are you going to help me?” Charity. 

“Anginamali, Charity. You know that.” Celia. 

“You must go and find a job like everyone that is your age does”, the dad. 

“Just shut up wena!” Charity. 

“Charity, kukwami la! You will not disrespect me in my own house.” The dad. 

Celia looks at Phuthi… hopeful. 

“I would help, mam’Celia. Kodwa after witnessing how your children treat my father when I don’t even treat you that way, I’ll let life continue to humble them until they know abantu abadala.” Phuthi says. 

Now Charity is very regretful. She’s realising that she would have got hectic money from Phuthi, but she couldn’t behave around new people… now she’s lost out.

“Ngiyaxolisa sisi. It’s just that a lot has happened”, Charity says to Phuthi. 

“I don’t care. This is my father. No one talks to him like that and gets to be acquainted with me. No one.” Phuthi says. 

Then Phuthi looks at me and says, “Ready to go?”

I nod my head. 

“Celia, please tell your kids to leave too. I need to rest.” The dad says. 

Celia is so sad. I even feel like helping. This person probably just needs 35k. All this for a mere 35k?! Hai man!

The kids have left. 

I know Phuthi gave her dad cash. She told me that she was going to do it. Now we are being walked to our car. Celia is making so much noise, making sure that everyone comes out to see us – or rather see her see off her successful kids. She’s so weird. 

“Please phone us when you arrive”, Celia yells. 

“Nihambeni kahle. Thank you for everything.” The dad says.

“Rest, baba! Please! And make sure that you go to your dialysis and all doctors’ appointments. I’m going to phone them and ask. Your medication will be delivered first thing ekuseni!” Phuthi.

“Yebo ndodakazi. Don’t worry. Ngizophila. I owe you a lot.” The dad. 

“Bye Mkhulu”, my kids says. So, they speak Zulu now?

“Nizeni phela bazukulu! Ngifuna kugcwale nina la, si zwe ngomsindo wenu!” The dad.

“Sizofika mkhuku!” Rena. 

Hai! This is not happening! Phuthi is laughing at me. 

We finally drive off! 

I’m glad we did this. I’m glad that Phuthi found her father.