Koena

I am so excited about tonight. I am going to a strip club with my husband. I mean, Mthunzi and I are that couple from time to time. But tonight was completely spontaneous and I am actually excited. I think he is equally excited – he’s been saying that I attend stripping classes. Maybe this has always been his dream. 

The aim is to not look like the wife he dragged out of a church choir practice, but I also don’t want to be confused with the strippers. So, I wear a short black jumpsuit. The jumpsuit is tastefully short. It’s sexy and classy at the same time. I wear black and white Nike Jordan 1s to seal the look.

My makeup is minimal and my braids are pushed back with an alice band. I have put the wig on a break.

I make my way downstairs and my hubby is looking very hot. I’m not sure how I feel about him looking like that when he is about to be around a bunch of naked women working for tips. Look, he is just wearing jeans, sneakers and a golf t-shirt. But he is hot okay. He is just hot. And I don’t like it very much right now.

I am already in his arms and he is spinning me around.

“You look hot, you know that?” He says to me.

“I have to match how hot you look. Plus I’ll be competing with a lot of naked women tonight.” I confess. I mean, I want him to know that I’m nervous, but I also want him to believe that I am comfortable in my own skin – even though I’m still losing my baby fat, but look hotter than I did nine months ago.

“No one is competition for you in my eyes, baby. You are in your own league. Even if anyone wanted to compete, they’d never come close to catching up. You are it for me.” He reassures me.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

We kiss.

“Are you sure I can’t come with you? I promise that you guys won’t even know that I am there.” Mfundo. He has Thingo in his arms. Thingo can walk now. He adores the hell out of Mfundo and that makes my soul so happy.

“That’s exactly what we are scared of. You will disappear to where and with who? In a strip club even?” Mthunzi says.

They laugh about it, but I am worried about Mfundo’s sudden sexual appetite. First it was a girlfriend, now he wants to disappear with strippers?

Mthunzi told me that they had a sex talk, but he told me that he told Mfundo to use condoms when he has sex. He says they briefly touched on the emotional and spiritual connection part of it, but the way that he is carrying on lately tells me that he didn’t get it. In fact, he seems more free now about being sexually reckless because his father has opened the door to him talking about being sexually reckless.

Hubby and I drive to Summit. We will be meeting Lydia and Thomas at Summit. They had to go drop Rofhi off and change. Lydia texted me ten minutes ago, telling me that they have arrived. We are five minutes away.

As we arrive, we park next to the car that Lydia and Thomas arrived in. Lydia is wearing a little black dress of note and one hell of a stiletto heel. I have noticed that she is a lover of high heels. On casual days, she wears jeans with block heels. I have never seen her in a flat shoe. I wonder if she owns any. But she looks hot.

She and I are walking ahead of our men, so we enter the club first. Our men buy bottles and we make our way to the VIP section. We have a table to ourselves. This place is lit. There is very little pole action happening here. There is a show happening on stage and there are props. There are more strippers walking the floor. These girls are stunning. They find men who are not here with their partners and they locate themselves next to these men. I suppose they are the dates for the night.

There is a lady walking around collecting money for the show that is happening on stage. She is also dressed as one of the strippers. We definitely tip because that is a good show shame.

I am sitting on top of Mthunzi and I see Lydia sitting on top of Thomas as well. I am drinking juice because I am still nursing. Gosh, Thingo needs to divorce my boob. I could be getting drunk with my man right now. Lydia is also not drinking alcohol. She says it’s because she will be driving them back home. Oh and she is pregnant – AGAIN. Oh ja, the JMPDs pollute these streets. I suppose we, stripclub goers, are their target market, so it’s best to stay clear of alcohol if you are driving. Else, uber honey.

Thomas and Mthunzi are drinking these bottles that they have ordered. I decide to invite three of the strippers because I know that Mthunzi hates champagne. He bought this bottle so we could get the VIP table. But I know he hates it. So these girls can enjoy the champagne and our men can have beer. Lydia gives me a look when I call the strippers. But come on, they are not here for our men.

These girls are a lot of fun. They are not even trying to have sex with our husbands. I don’t know why Lydia is becoming sour about them being here.

“You are so cool. A lot of wives who come here will slap us for sitting next to their men”, the one girl says.

“What are your names?” I ask.

“We don’t share our names in here. But if we meet on the streets, we will share our names.”

“So what do we call you?” Me.

“You can call me Spice.”

“And I’m Foxy”.

“And you can call me Chocolate”.

Very cute stripper names.

“You guys can hang out with us for tonight. We will tip you for your time.” Thomas.

His wife is already pissed off. Why would he say that? The ladies are sitting across the table from us.

“We charge per hour.” Foxy says.

“We will pay.” Thomas.

This is not going to end well. Lydia is…

“You sure?” Spice says.

Thomas thinks they are undermining the amount of money he has and his ability to pay them. But these ladies can read his wife’s face and I don’t think that they are here for drama. This is a job for them. The aim is to not piss off customers and start shit unnecessarily.

“Elle, come let’s chat for a second”. I say to Lydia as I stand up from Mthunzi’s lap and walk a few centimetres away from the table with Lydia.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

“Why are these girls sitting with us?”

“Elle, what do you think they are going to do? They are just girls doing a job and we invited them to drink this champagne that our men got.”

“Why? I’ll fucken drink the champagne if I have to. I don’t need naked girls looking for dick next to my man a few days before I traditionally marry him.”

“He’s not even doing anything. Chill! We came here to have a good time and you are making all of us uncomfortable.”

“I am making everyone uncomfortable? I didn’t call these girls.”

“Nothing is going to happen. You are next to Thomas. These girls are not competing with you for Thomas’ attention. They just chilling and drinking with us. Chill. Give your man hand-job ke. But please, stop flipping. It’s not a good look.”

She smiles at me. It must be the hand-job part.

“Just chill. Let’s have a good time.”

We walk back to our men and Lydia is in a better mood. Suddenly, gqom music plays and there is no show on the stage. This has become a party now. I am on my feet and I am dancing away. I am from Mahikeng my darling, I grew up getting down to good music. Oh and my KZN man is here with me. We are dancing together. Foxy, Spice and Chocolate are also dancing – having the time of their lives. They are not jirating on anyone’s man. Lydia was being ridiculous.

Lydia and Thomas are on the couch. They are not dancing like this entire club is doing. This couple…

Wait a minute…

Thomas has a finger under her dress. His pants are unbuttoned and her hand…

Okay, they are not boring.

I pull my man to the restroom and we get into a cubicle. Oh yes, we have a session. My legs around his waist and him pushing me up against the cubicle door.

This would be kinky. But we are not the only ones in here doing this.

By the time we get back to the club, holding hands, there is a bathtub on stage. Girls are putting on a show using the bathtub and people around the stage are proper taken. Like proper. These girls are playing with bath foam and bathing each other on stage naked and dripping in bath foam and oil. Men are actually playing with their clits on stage and others are putting their fingers in their private areas. Is this allowed? At what point does this become abuse? These ladies may undress and dance for tips, but they don’t ask to be penetrated on stage.

“So, this is what you guys learn in those Saturday classes of yours?” Mthunzi seductively whispers in my ear. 

“I’m not going to answer that because I’m tired of telling you that I don’t strip. I do pole fitness.” I say. 

He laughs. 

We leave just at 11pm because there is a curfew we have to adhere to. Covid will not let us be great. It’s bad enough that we have to come here with masks on.

And yes, we got stopped by the police.

…

I took my eldest son for a fun day today at Kyalami. He was extremely excited. He loves these kinds of things. He loves cars and he loves fast cars. He just got his driver’s license and we took the M4 in our garage to go and have fun with it at Kyalami.

Now that we are done and are being served lunch, I bring up the topic that I’ve been meaning to talk to him about. He should have known that there was more to our date than just him and I coming to have fun at Kyalami.

I take a sip of my Passion Fruit and Dry Lemon drink then start,

“So fanas, I believe you are dating and having sex now.”

The look he gives me!

“This doesn’t have to be awkward, Mfundo. I’m not here to reprimand you. I just want us to talk, you know.”

“I mean… it’s not that serious. There are some girls that –

“More than one female?” Okay, maybe I’m being Judge Judy and if I want this to be a fruitful conversation, I need to turn down the judgement volume.

“Sorry.”

“Mah, I’m only eighteen. I’m not seeing anyone to marry them at this point in my life. But yes, I have had sex and I used protection at all times.” He is quite mature in how he presents his case to me.

I nod my head and reply.

“And these girls that you are sleeping with, do they know that the agreement is just casual? Are you on the same page?”

He is silent.

“You know fanas, I was fourteen years old when a boy as charming as you was nice to me and had me in his bed when his parents were at work. He was charming. He was nice. He was my senior and it was exciting to be with him. He made me feel pretty. I thought that we shared something special. I thought that him and I were the real deal and that there was more to the way that he looked at me than just sexual chemistry. One day, I left home in school uniform headed to school, then he picked me up from the school gate, convinced me to bunk class and we ended up at his parents’ house, in his bed, having sex. Then I got pregnant and my life changed forever while his was unmoved.”

I have his attention. He wants to defend himself and promise me that he is nothing like Mohavi’s father, but he is also not interrupting me because he wants to know how this story ends.

“He got to move on to university the next year while I walked around the township with a big stomach at such a tender age. He got to deny the pregnancy while I was judged for being forward and not focusing on school. I ended up having to find a job after matric because my parents were retiring and my child needed me to support him, not go to school to further my education. That’s how I became a domestic worker. But, it’s a few years later now and I know better. I’m in a better place and all, but I never got to be a mother to my son. I was working and living away from him all his life because I had to be a mom and a dad to him while his father had the luxury of deciding when he would be ready to take responsibility for him. Then he passed away.”

He is sad now.

“I don’t blame his father for what happened. I was also irresponsible and have to take accountability for the consent that I gave that day. But had I known what his intentions were and what the consequences of sleeping with him would be, I would have made a different choice. I was not the kind of girl who would just sleep with someone and pretend that there is nothing there. Looking back now, I would have appreciated the honesty because sex carries a responsibility no one is prepared to take on within their teenage years. That’s how men start calling women clingy and crazy. When you have sex with someone, spirit and flesh meet. You become united in a way that you don’t understand. That’s why the idea is to have sex when you are married. But that notion is out of the window these days. The least you can do is to offer the other party the luxury of choice. Put your truth on the table about your intentions, then let her decide if she still wants to have sex or not. At least let her choice to sleep with you be informed.”

“I hear you, mah.” He sincerely says.

“Fanas, I’m not saying that get into a committed relationship. I’m just saying that when your flirting and charming status drops panties, understand the responsibility that lies with you to not be an asshole just because you are a good looking young man. You can be handsome and be a good man. I promise you, it’s not a crime.”

He laughs at this.

“Phela kusasa when mothers start knocking endlini and demanding that you have done their kids dirty, I will be forced to protect your honour. So I am trusting you to make sure that I protect a good man – my son.”

We wrap our lunch and chats then head back home because also, Mthunzi is blowing up our phones and telling us that he misses us.

…

Mthunzi

Koena took Mfundo out on an expensive date just to talk to him about sex. I am sure it went well and they need to come home now.

I am watching television with Thingo when I get a call from a number that I do not recognise.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Mthunzi, hi.” A woman says.

“Who is this?” I ask.

“It’s me Mthu, Landiwe.”

What the hell? What does she want? After all this time? Landiwe is one of the girls I used to mess with when I was still with Sindi. Our fling was actually longer than two years. But I ended things when things became serious between Koena and me.

“Mthu, are you still there?”

“I’m here, Landiwe.”

“Unjani kodwa, Mthu?”

“I’m married now, Landiwe. How are you?”

“You’ve always been married and that’s never been something that you’ve felt I needed to care about.”

“Well things have changed. And my wife won’t appreciate you calling me like this. So what do you want?”

She is silent.

“I thought we could meet up and do some drinks. I need a friend and I thought you could lend an ear.”

“I’m friends with my wife. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

“What did I do to you, Mthu? We had a good thing and now you treat me like this?”

“We are done, Landiwe. And if you call me again, I will block you.”

“Hai bo!”

“Did I leave you with a child, perhaps?”

Silence.

“Well?”

“No, no child.”

“A disease?”

“No.”

“So what are we talking about?”

“I just need a friend.”

“You don’t have enough friends?”

Koena and Mfundo walk in.

Jesus. Now this call really needs to end.

“Mthu –

“Goodbye Landiwe.”

I hang up.

“Hey baby”. My wife greets me with a kiss.

“Sho timer”, Mfundo.

“Hey! How was your date?” I ask them. I stand up. Thingo has passed out in my arms, so I put him in his cot.

“It was good. I think I needed it.” Mfundo says.

I wonder.

“I hope you didn’t stress my wife out”.

“She said I could have the M4 now that I have a license.” Mfundo.

“I would never!”

We all laugh.

My phone rings again. It’s Landiwe. What the hell does she want?

“Everything okay?” Koena asks me.

“Yeah, just some call centres”.

“Why don’t you block the numbers? Or just threaten them with the POPI Act.” She says.

We all giggle, but Landiwe needs to stop calling me.

“Are you sure it’s just call centres?” Koena asks me.

Should I tell her?

I mean, I don’t know what Landiwe wants. But if I hold out with this information as this crap starts, I’ll be suspicious. If I tell Koena now, she may shit on me coz that’s just what women do. But at least she will help me deal with Landiwe. If I keep quiet and wait for the worst to happen, things will get worse.

“Mfundo, please give your father and I a minute?” Koena.

As Mfundo leaves, Landiwe calls again.

Jesu.

I answer the phone and put it on speaker.

“Landiwe”

“I wasn’t done talking to you. Who do you think you are hanging up on me?”

“I told you that I am a happily married man and I cannot be this friend that you want me to be for you. I don’t understand what you want from me. And whatever it is, I cannot give it to you.”

“So it was okay for you to use me when you were unhappy with your wife? You ended my marriage.”

“That relationship had consent from both of us. I didn’t force you to do anything. Now, I have a new wife. I’m not with Sindiswa anymore. And I’m happy and want nothing to do with whatever you are offering.”

I take a careful look at Koena. Her expression is just blank.

“Listen here wena Mthunzi Msomi, I need your help and you are going to help me. I don’t care about that wife of yours because she is not my wife. I lost everything because of you. The least you can do is make sure that –

Koena has hung up the call.

Now, she is fuming. But why? What did I do wrong?

Landiwe calls again. This time, Koena blocks her. But she’s pissed and she disappears upstairs with my phone. I don’t understand.

I think about following her upstairs so we could talk about this, but I am not sure if that is safe. Truthfully speaking, I am not sure what the right thing to do is right now. 

Mfundo comes into the kitchen from outside. 

“Everything okay?” He asks me. 

“Yeah, everything is fine, boy. How did it go with Koena?” I ask him. 

He sighs and sits down on one of the kitchen stools. 

“It’s just… Mah’s take on life is always so deep and complicated. With her nje, a table is not just a table. There’s wood and some labourer’s effort that we need to appreciate. It’s great and all, but I don’t think I’ll be able to touch a girl without talking to her for three months or perhaps making her sign a contract so even I know that indeed there was informed consent on all ends.” 

I actually giggle. I feel like my son was tortured. 

“I don’t want to be that guy, baba, that leaves a girl high and dry – ruining her life just because I had an erection and chose to release inside of her instead of my hand.” 

What has Koena done to my son? 

“She had me thinking about some of the things that gogo told me my mom went through when she was pregnant with me and had me with very little support from you.” 

My stomach briefly turns. 

“I don’t want to do that to anyone. And I definitely don’t want to do that to my child. If there’s anyone who knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of being born before your parents are ready for you, it’s me. At least you got a second chance to make things right, mah’s dead son didn’t give her a chance or time to do more than just go out into a difference province and make money for him.” 

I start scratching my head. I don’t know if this conversation was a good thing or bad thing. 

I stand up and start pacing about in the open area of our living room. 

“Mfundo, I fucked up when it came to you and your mother. I never got the opportunity to say sorry to her, but I hope that one day you’ll forgive me and not carry the weight of what you had to endure because of the decisions that I made as a young and stupid boy.” 

I don’t look at him because I am not ready to face him as we engage in this conversation. My back is towards him. 

“You know, I used to blame Mbali’s mother for growing up without parents.” 

My body twitches at that statement. I have always been right here. What does he mean he grew up without parents? 

“When you can put a face to one of the things that cause you pain, that face carries the weight of everything that has ever hurt you. I blamed her for my mom’s death. I blamed her for taking you away from us. And I blamed her for us not having a relationship. I blamed her for you leaving me in KZN while you came to pursue a good life in Gauteng with your perfect family. I blamed her for forcing Mbali and I to have a relationship secretly. I had no room to give her a chance or feel anything outside of hate towards her.” 

Tears are sprinting down my face now. 

“Then I saw you with mah. Mah came into your life and you suddenly changed. Mah came into your life and I was suddenly good enough to be your son, to live with you and to have a relationship with you. Mah came into your life and suddenly, baba, I was no longer your dirty laundry that you wanted to hide from the world so that you are not known to be that man who was stupid enough to impregnate a teenager when you were a teenager.”

“Mfundo – 

“Baba, it was never on Mbali’s mom. She made you raise a child that she made while cheating on you, and you still couldn’t bring me into your house to live the way that a child that wasn’t even yours was living?” 

I just collapse on the couch. Only now, I notice that Koena is standing at the top of the staircase watching us. 

“You just didn’t want me, baba. I just cannot figure out why. Even now, mah wants me. Not you. If mah woke up tomorrow and told you that she doesn’t want me here anymore, you’d have no problem sending me back to KZN. But I can bet my life ukuthi if you told mah that I had to leave this house because you don’t want me here anymore, she’d divorce you and take me with her.” 

“That’s not true, Mfundo.” 

“It is true, baba. You did it for sixteen years of my life. What’s changed? Is the influence of a woman that strong over you? Or what? Mbali’s mom’s pussy whipped you that good?” 

I’m on my feet now. He is not going to talk to me like this. 

“Listen here, I get that you have a lot to get off your chest, but you will not talk to me like that.” 

“You don’t get to tell me how to deal with my pain – pain caused by you denying me after you raped my mother then left her to deal with me as a consequence.” 

Shock! 

Even Koena almost falls down these stairs. 

“You think my grandparents didn’t tell me how important sex was to you that you couldn’t tell the difference between consent and non-consent? Then you drag in woman after woman, fucking them because you can! That’s how you lost Mbali’s mother and that’s probably how you are about to lose mah”. 

“Mfundo!” I am losing my patience and my shit now. 

“What?! Ubani uLandiwe? What are you still lacking in your marriage? Why are you fucking women when mah is more than a woman for you?” 

I do the one thing I know I will regret for the rest of my life. I put my hands on my son and he lands on the floor with a cut on his lip. Koena is on the floor now, attending to Mfundo. I am breathing heavily.

“I think the two of you need some space from each other.” Koena. 

“Lalela la wena, Koena is my wife. How I love her and what our marriage is has got nothing to do with you. You have no place what-so-ever in our main bedroom.” 

“Mthunzi, baby please –

“Love, I’m not going to tolerate this shit from this boy.” 

“Baby, this is not the time.” 

“Mfundo, I didn’t rape your mother. I don’t know what your grandparents told you and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit. They were not there when you were conceived, so they will not come here and re-tell my truth when I was there. I had sex with your mother and you were conceived. Your mother and her family wanted marriage out of me, not a father to a child. I didn’t give them that and they have been trying to make me pay ever since. When you are interested in my side of the story, then we can talk about your mother. But until you are ready, you’ll keep that disrespect out of my house.” 

“Okay, sekwanele manje, love.” Koena. 

“And lastly –

“Mthunzi –

“I love you, son. I love you with all of my heart. And I am sorry for not being there for you. I apologise from the depths of my soul and I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising and making it up to you – trying my best to be the best father that I can be to you. But ungazong’qinela amasende. I’ll murder you, boy.” 

Now, I can leave. 

I am in the guest bedroom downstairs gathering myself because I am crying like a little bitch right now. But I can hear the conversation between Mfundo and Koena. 

Koena: “Do you need to see someone, Mfundo? A professional maybe?” 

Mfundo: “Nah, I’m good mah. If I get professionals involved, I’ll get him arrested for putting his hands on me.” 

Koena: “Mfundo, I love you with all my heart. Kodwa Mthunzi is my husband. And I will add another punch to your face if you ever disrespect him like that again.” 

Silence. 

Koena: “I don’t want to speak too much on what happened between your father and your biological mother because I’d like to stay in my lane when it comes to talking about her. But if you are going to be upset with Mthunzi, at least understand the full story and be upset knowing the facts of how you were conceived.” 

My point exactly! Thank you, baby. 

Koena: “And Mfundo, you need to make a decision regarding whether or not you’ve forgiven your father. I mean sihleli lana sonke thinking that everything is okay, kanti wena you are harbouring all of this hatred in your heart. I know that no one can tell you how to deal with the things that people have put you through, but at some point, you also need to free yourself from shackles that will only hold you back in life. Mthunzi loves you, Mfundo. There is no justification for him not being present in your life, but he loves you and he’s here now. Is making him pay for the past really worth you stopping yourself from building better memories with him in the present?” 

I don’t hear the rest of the conversation. I just find myself angry and crying in this room. Maybe bringing him to Joburg to live with Koena and I was a mistake. 

I hear the door open and I smell my wife’s scent, so I know it’s her. Her arms are wrapped around me and my head finds its way to her shoulder. I truly breakdown now. She keeps rubbing her hand on my back. I just hold onto her tightly and release the weight off my heart. 

…

“Good morning”, Koena says as she walks into our bedroom from our insuite bathroom wrapped in a towel. What time is it? And where is she going so early in the morning? 

“You feeling better?” She asks me. 

“Where are you going?” I ask her. 

“I’m going to see a designer with Lydia for her lobola and wedding dresses.” She says. 

Are they friends now? I know they get along, I just didn’t think it was at this level. 

She sits next to me. 

She holds my hand. 

“Yesterday was necessary. It was always going to happen. The two of you coming back into each other’s lives was never going to be easy. Now, all the pieces have exploded. They only way left to go is up. So build with caution. You are an amazing father and I am proud of you. I love you.” She is going to make me cry again. She can see it. 

“I’d give you sex, but you are clearly not emotionally equipped for what I plan to do with you with my stripping classes moves.” 

I pull her into the bed with me and it goes without saying that we have rounds of pleasure. 

Now that she has left, I have to go face Mfundo. I know he is awake because Thingo is loud and Thingo is never alone in this house. 

I make my way down the stairs and I see him feeding Thingo. Thingo is in his feeding chair and Mfundo is sitting on a kitchen stool, feeding and talking to Thingo. 

“Sho”, I greet him as I make my way to the fridge. 

“Sho”, he replies and continues to feed Thingo. 

I am quiet because I don’t know what else to say. 

“I’m sorry about how I spoke to you yesterday. I’m sorry for all the things that I said. And I am ready to forgive you, Timer.” He says. These three sentences are everything to me. 

I nod my head. 

“I’m sorry for everything. I really am.” I say. 

He nods his head. 

“I’m ready to put this behind me.” He says. 

Koena runs back into the house. She looks like she forgot something, but when she stumbles upon us in the kitchen, she freezes and looks at us. 

“Is it safe to enter?” She says. 

Mfundo and I both chuckle. She releases a sigh of relief.

“I had forgot that I still had your phone, babe. So I came back to drop it off because Tom will not stop calling you. Him and your brothers.” 

By the way… I still have to be answerable to THAT Landiwe situation. 

“But now that I have both of you here…”

Mfundo and I look at her. 

“I was thinking that maybe as one of the ways that the two of you could do some healing and move on, you could maybe erect a tombstone for Mfundo’s mother.” I never expected this from Koena. Ever! Even Mfundo is shocked. 

“I know that it won’t make anything up from the past. But at least let it be a step in your journey towards healing. She’s the one thing that the two of you share. I just thought you could give it some thought. I’d be okay if you decided to proceed with it and I’d support it.” She concludes. 

Mfundo walks to her and hugs her. 

I am convinced that maybe I am the problem. There must be something about me that creates insecurity. Koena is not insecure about her position as Mfundo’s mother – to the extent that an act like this doesn’t intimidate her. But she is at times insecure about being my wife? I don’t know how I feel about erecting a tombstone for Kholeka – I’d never erect a tombstone for Sindi and she was actually my wife. But Mfundo clearly needs it and for him and the sake of our relationship, I’ll see this through. I hug my wife and kiss her. 

“I married one hell of a woman”, I whisper in her ear. 

“I love you”, she says. 

“I don’t doubt that for one second.” I say.