“When did you get to South Africa?” I ask him as we sit in this car that he’s arrived with to see me. He’s in the driver’s seat and I’m in the passenger’s seat. We are parked on campus. I was in class when he texted me to tell me he’s here.
“Last night. I came with Tee-le. He’s at home doing a few things for his mother and sister. He let me use his car to come and see you.”
Oh… that explains who this car belongs to.
“Oh okay.” I say.
“How are you?” He asks me.
“Tired. Emotionally drained.”
“Things are still bad?”
I nod my head and say, “My parents are even fighting. Kazi, my siblings and I had even moved out. But my dad and Uncle Mthunzi came to fetch us and take us back home. My parents are still not on speaking terms. When they speak, they fight.”
He holds my hand.
I look at him.
I put my head on his chest and I feel him kissing the top of my head, squeezing me tighter.
Then he says, “What are we going to do, my love?”
“My dad wants me to enter into an arranged marriage”, I say.
His body tenses INSTANTLY.
I don’t even want to look at him, so I’m staying in this position.
“What?!” Him.
“Kazi is fighting him on it. But my dad is just so…”
“You obviously not going through with this, right?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Then say no.”
I’m just silent.
“Rofhiwa!”
“What do you want me to say, Reahile?” Now I’m sobbing even.
“I want you to tell me that you are not going to allow your father to marry you off to some man. Rofhiwa, please.”
I just cry.
I hear him sniffing too… I guess he’s crying too.
“Baby, I need you to promise me this.” He says between his sobs.
Honestly, I can’t make that promise. I really can’t.

We ended up passing out in the car together after all the crying that we both did. We were woken up by a call from Tee-le. We said goodbye to each other then he had to leave.
I’m at home now… in my room. I’m supposed to be studying, but I’m so distracted.
“Yo.” A whatsapp text comes through to my phone. It’s Mfundo.
“Hey.” I reply.
“Just checking up on you. I’m worried about you.” He texts.
“Actually, I could do with some air. Can I come over?” I reply.
“Nene is here. The two of you can share me tonight. Come over.”
Mxm. This idiot.
But I pack my overnight bag and toiletry bag.
Mfundo is my brother – he’s not even like a brother – he is my brother. Nene is his stunning girlfriend. I absolutely love her and I’m so glad we have a healthy relationship. She could have easily pushed me out of Mfundo’s life because I’m not his biological sister. But she just embraced me.

“Vha khou ya ngafhi?” I didn’t know my dad was home already. I wasn’t expecting to bump into him in the house. We are both in the living room now.
“To Mfundo’s place.” I say.
He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me.
“You can ask him.” I say.
He actually takes out his cellphone and starts dialling Mfundo’s number. This is really what our relationship has become? Really? I’m actually so heartbroken.
“Uncle T”, Mfundo answers his phone.
“Mfundo, how are you doing?” My dad.
“I’m good. How are you?” Mfundo.
“I’m good. Are you expecting Rofhiwa today?”
“Yeah. Nene and I are hosting her for an evening indoors.”
“Okay. Thank you. Mfundo, I trust you. Don’t break my trust.” Papa mara.
“You can trust me, Uncle T.” Mfundo.
“Thank you. Please let me know when Rofhiwa arrives at your place.” Wow!
I’m even crying now.
Kazi walks into the living room from another room. Ranwedzi, Gundo and Rendani are behind her. Khanyi is probably studying… nope, she’s walking in behind them too.
Kazi notices my tears… then the tension between my dad and I… then my bag.
“You going out?” She asks me.
I wipe my tears then say, “Just to Mfundo’s place.”
She nods her head.
“Why is sister crying?” Rendani.
“Papa is probably being mean again”, Gundo.
We all look at them.
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Being mean?” My dad asks them. I’m not sure if he’s hurt or unmoved. His tone has a hint of both.
“Sister is always crying these days and it’s always after she speaks to you. Why?” Gundo.
“Why don’t you ask her what she did? Why do you assume that I’m being mean?”
“Because –
“Gundo, Rendani and Ranwedzi… please go play in the garden.” Kazi says.
“But I was answering dad’s question.” Gundo.
“Well I’m telling you to go play. That, or go read a book.” Kazi.
They all sprint out of the living room… anything but read a book, I tell you.
“Khanyisa, did you know about Rofhiwa’s relationship with that thug?” Why must my dad be like this? Why?
“I did.” She says.
My dad nods his head at both of us.
“Papa”, I say.
He looks at me. Kazi has her hand wrapped around my waist, soothing me almost.
“Are you still going through with the arranged marriage?” I ask.
He looks at Kazi… stares at her actually. Kazi stares right back at him.
“Yes.” My heart breaks.
“Thomas!” Kazi.
My dad walks away from us.
I just make my way to my car and leave.

Mfundo’s place is about twenty minutes away. I’m so angry and emotional that I get there in less than fifteen minutes. I’m greeted by Mfundo’s goofy self and Nene’s warm self. Both their kids are here. Nene has a son with some other guy and Mfundo has a daughter with his ex. They are such a beautiful blended family and the kids get along like a house on fire. They sprint to me and greet me, which then sees them taking my bags – Liso (the son) taking my overnight bag and Mbali (the daughter) taking my toiletry and makeup bag. They run upstairs with the bags, leaving us adults downstairs here. Such respectful kids.
Mfundo’s house is a modern three-bedroom duplex house. What used to be a spare bedroom is now Liso’s bedroom. So when I’m here, Mbali let’s me sleep with her in her bedroom. She has two single beds in there. Liso also has two single beds in his bedroom. I can’t believe that Mfundo is such a family man. Let’s hope he never treats his daughter how my dad now treats me these days.

Nene gives me a glass of wine. She has another glass in her hand and puts a bottle on the coffee table in front of us. Mfundo has a six pack of Castle Light in front of him.
They are sitting on a three-seater couch together and I’m sitting on a two-seater couch alone. Before they can even start talking, I just breakdown and cry. Yoh, I just cry! It’s that cry where my snots are having a party on my upper lip, my tears are gushing in different directions and my ugly crying face is more meme-worthy than Kim Kardashian’s crying face meme.
I just feel Nene pulling me into a hug. She lets me cry in her arms.

My heart is all cried out after a good thirty-minute cry. Mfundo just watched Nene and I cry together and comfort each other.
My phone rings. It’s Rea. They look at me. I look at them. Then I answer my phone.
“Hey babe”, me.
“Hey my love. How are you?”
I sigh.
“Me too”, he says.
I see Nene taking Mfundo by the hand and leading him out of the TV room area. I guess they are giving me some space.
“Can we videocall?” I ask him.
“Sure.” He says.
After a few minutes, our videocall starts.
He’s at my apartment. He’s lying on a couch.
“You look beautiful”, he says to me.
I smile at him.
“Your eyes look like they’ve been releasing pain. You want to talk about it?” He says.
“My dad wants us to continue with the arranged marriage. I don’t want to do it, Rea. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Are you going to go through with it?” He asks me.
“I’m going to run away from home… just go away for some time. Maybe go to my mom’s family for some time in Botswana. I know the Eastern Cape people didn’t like her.”
“Come here. Come with me. Leave your car there. I’ll send a car for you. Your dad won’t be able to track you.”
“He will know I’m with you. That’s where he will look first.”
“Good thing I have guards with me all the time. He won’t do anything even if he finds you.”
“Make sure my father doesn’t get hurt – no matter what happens. I’m begging you, Rea.”
“You’ve got my word.”
“And where am I going to stay? You know he will take that apartment away from me.”
“Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything. But we will discuss the plan in the next few days.”
“My dad wants me to go with him to Venda this weekend to make the engagement official. We literally have a day, babe.”
His face drops.
“Please. Help me. We have to do something.” I say.
“Okay. We will do this. Leave it to me. I love you, okay?”
“I love you too, baby.”
We hang up.
“Fifi? You are running away?” Mfundo was listening to my conversation. Really?!
“What choice do I have, Mfundo? He’s marrying me off to a man I don’t even know.” I say in great panic. He can’t say anything to anyone.
“Dude, Mr R is going to lose his shit. What movie do you want to see?”
“Mfundo, he’s left me with no choice. None. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Yoh Fifi… and now you’ve made me an accomplice. Fuck, I wish I could un-know this.”
“Mfundo, please don’t say anything… not even to your dad. I’m begging you.”
He looks at me. Then he says, “We are going to miss you so much.”
“I’ll still see you guys. I’m just getting a bit of freedom from my dad.”
“By being dependent on your boyfriend?”
He has a point. But, I don’t have another choice.
“Fifi, if your dad changed your mind about this arranged marriage shit… would you stay?”
I nod my head.
We hug. Then he says, “Give me his number.”
“Why?”
“Since I’m the only person who knows about this, I need to look after you and make sure you are okay.”
I love my big brother. Wow.
“Khanyisa also knows. It was her idea actually.” I say.
“That’s very scary to know.” He says.
We come out of our hug.
“What do you need?” He asks me.
“I don’t know yet. But you and Khanyi will be in the loop with everything… Kazi too, but after I’ve left. I love her and trust her, but she’s too in love with my dad to let me go without telling him.”
He nods his head.

…

I just landed possibly the greatest gig of my career. I received my offer letter last month to work as a PR manager for the Legends.
I am a small town girl all the way from Bethlehem. I gave birth to my daughter, Phatsima, when I was doing my 2nd second year in university. She is ten years old now. The plan is for me to stay in a rented one-bedroom apartment in Taung, Tholoana Kingdom, for a year. My fiancé, Phatsi’s father, will buy us a house and he and Phatsi will join me in the next two years.
Phatsi and Phathudi (my fiancé) have driven down with me to Gauteng. I got a flat in Taung that is a five-minute walk from work. It is a cool flat in a gated and access-controlled complex.
“This flat is very small for twelve thousand five hundred rands”, Phathudi complains.
“I know, Phathudi. Fela, what can I do? It’s my first time here. Maybe after I have met a few people and have familiarised myself with the place, I will find something cheaper”, I negotiate. It is not as if I can travel from Beth to Tholoana Kingdom daily just to save costs.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but this job is supposed to bring a better financial standing. Everything I make is going into the wedding and Phatsi’s school fees. Now this apartment?” Phathudi continues.
“Phatsi can stay with me. We will make it work. And I will pay her fees moving forward”, I say.
“No ways. You are not raising my daughter without me in this filthy city”, he says.
“Then stop complaining. You are giving me a headache”, I say.
“Mama, when can I come visit you?” Phatsi asks me.
“You can come by any time you want and for as long as you want”, I tell her.
“Can I come during my school holidays?” she says.
“Yes. And I will take leave so that we can have fun together”, I say.
Phatsi hugs me.

We spend the rest of the day unpacking and shopping for any outstanding items in the house. And yes, Phathudi complained throughout the shopping too.
…

I have not been feeling too well as of late. Flu has overcome me like a thief in the night since I returned from Mpumalanga. I was visiting my family for the weekend and now I am as sick as a dog. I could not even go to Yaya’s place, so I settled at my cute three-bedroom townhouse and let Yaya know that I returned safely. Yaya phoned me in the morning to check up on how I am doing as he usually does when we did not spend the night together. Hearing what I sound like over the phone saddens him more than me texting him and telling him that I do not feel well.
“What’s wrong, my baby shoes?” He asks me.
“I have the worst flu in the world. I can barely get out of bed. My entire body is in so much pain. I am blocked. I am cold. I have zero energy”, I tell him.
“Okay, I am missing training too. I am coming over, okay?” Uyanda.
After we hang up, I clean myself up, convincing myself that no matter how sick I am, it will be a cold day in hell before Uyanda sees me looking like the mess that I am. I can be cute and sick. I am Thuli Mabote.
“Come on girl… just take a few steps to the kitchen to get some Morvite for some energy”, I tell myself.
I play a playlist that I put together for Uyanda on the night that we first met. On that night, I had no idea that this would be the man that I look at and plan an entire happily ever after with. Today, I am his fiancé.
Track one begins to play, Kelly Rowland – train on a track.
I smile to myself. Loving Uyanda, truly is like a “train on a track or spokes inside a wheel. It is involuntary motion like rolling downhill and there’s no way to stop it.” My glow for Uyanda is as “natural as sunlight and dusk, snowflakes, and waterfalls… and there’s no way to stop it”.
After a moment of reminiscing and thinking about this fine man who paints a smile on my face by just a mere thought, I prepare some runny Morvite for me to drink up for energy. By the end of track one, my drink is ready. At the beginning of track 2, Chrisette Michelle’s ‘Couple of Forever’, I am downing the Morvite. I drink some meds that I keep in my kitchen medicine cupboard, Airmune, Medlemon, and Sinucon to be exact.
At track 3, Christina Perri’s ‘A thousand years’, I am boiling Stoney and drinking it with dissolved Disprin. I stand in the middle of the kitchen and take in the lyrics of the song. I quickly bring myself back to the moment, slice two oranges and eat the orange pieces. My taste buds are shot, so I cannot detail the taste of this orange. Now that I have some kind of energy, I go back to my bedroom to do the bed and clean up a bit.
Track 4: Sleeping at last – Turning Page.
I take a shower and get comfortable in black skinny jeans, what Uyanda would refer to as “fuck me boots”, and a white FILA jersey that I bullied Uyanda into giving to me. Ever since he gifted me this jersey, he has not been so generous with his nice jackets and sweaters anymore. I tie my braids into a bun. Ok, now Uyanda can arrive.
Track 5: Marsha Ambrosius & Anthony Hamilton – As.
…
Now that the music has stopped playing in the background, the popcorn has microwave-ably popped well, and orange juice is ready to be enjoyed, Yaya and I have tucked ourselves in fleece blankets on the couch in my bedroom, closed all the curtains, and treated ourselves to a Jurassic Park movie. We are neatly cuddled into one another; I keep sneezing here and there and Uyanda keeps kissing my forehead with every “bless you”.
The soundbar gives this movie extra sound effect, having me incredibly jumpy even though I refuse to admit that this film is borderline “scary” in genre for me. Uyanda giggles with every scream and jump. His humour was also tickled with many of the dry jokes in the movie – sexually dry may I add. Some flew completely over my head, but some were understood.
By the time the movie comes to an end, Yaya and I decide that we will cook some dinner and enjoy dinner together.

I continued playing the playlist. What makes this extra special is that Uyanda has no idea that this is music compiled for him, inspired by his presence in my life. The music is providing “background music” for us. It is telling a love story lived out. It is a vision worth a film.
Track 6: Lisa Tucker – I am for you.
Uyanda, he who enjoys cooking the most out of the two of us, starts chopping some vegetables and onions. I decide to clear the sink while he gets cooking. By the time that I am done, Uyanda has already started preparing the meat and the pasta salad he loves so much, taking into consideration my borderline gluten intolerance, he opts to prepare zucchinis.
Track 7: Angie Stone – Bottles and Cans.
I prepare glass serving dishes for the food to be decanted into and pots be cleaned before the food is served. I squeeze more oranges for juice and prepare them into a jug.
Track 8: Angie Stone – Makings of you.
As the food comes off/out of the pots and is decanted into the serving dishes, I wash the pots. When I am done, and one of Uyanda’s favourite jams begins to play (track 9: Anita Baker’s Rapture of love), Uyanda decides to offer himself to a slow dancing session with me. I, shy but excited, hesitantly accept the offer and live to celebrate this decision. Uyanda is caught up in singing along to the song while trying to be the perfect gentleman, and I just embrace being in his arms, taking in his scent, the moment, and the appreciation of the song for it is bringing me closer to the man that I love.

Track 10: Bebe & Cece Winans – Lord lift us up.

I finally set the table. I use an off-grey tablecloth, place fake flowers as a centrepiece at the table. I light up two vanilla-scented candles at the table, then place the crockery and cutlery on the table. I dish up for Yaya and me.

Food is now served.
…

It is my first day at work. Phathu and Phatsi drive me to work. We are driving in my Polo Vivo. Phathu is driving very slowly, seemingly taking in the atmosphere of Taung and its massive buildings designed to make nothing but money.
The next thing we know, a car whooshes past us at a heavily accelerated speed. It is a Golf 7 R. The number plates read “MBATHA TK”. We follow the car into NFR Village’s parking lot. The car drives so fast, we lose it while we find parking.

I hug my daughter and kiss my fiancé as I climb out of the car.
“You guys must travel safely back to Bethlehem okay?” I say.
“Ok, my love. We will come by over the weekend again to help you settle in”, Phathu.
“I’d really love that, baby”, me. I love my little family and Phathudi, as stingy as he is, bought me my Polo.
“I have sent you money so that you can use a meter taxi to work for the week. We will drive down with my brother over the weekend using two cars so that I can leave this car for you”, he says.
“Love, I live five minutes away. It is not that serious”, I say.
“This is not exactly the walking home kind of city, love”, him.
I am quiet.
“I love you guys. Phatsi, be good for papa, neh?” me.
“Ok mommy. We love you too”, Phatsi.
With that, Phatsi and Phathu drive off.

I make my way to reception. My orientation letter says I need to get to the third floor and ask to see Rofhiwa Ramaru.
I get to the elevators. A gang load of soccer players come into the elevator with me.
There is one particular soccer player who will not stop staring at me and undressing me with his eyes.
“Ibhari yakho leya that drives a Polo Vivo at 20km/h?” the staring one says.
“You must be the bhari that confused a public road for a racing track”, I say. How dare he call my man a bhari.
The others giggle to themselves, trying very hard not to burst into laughter.
“Yaya Mbatha”, he says, stepping closer towards me until he has invaded my space. The other guys chuckle, but we are seemingly having a moment. He is such a good-looking man.
“And you are?” he asks me, noticing that he has hypnotised me. I have never seen a smile so perfect.
“Retshepile Sedibe. But everyone calls me Tshepi”, I say with a stutter here and there.
I look away from him.
He places his fingers under my chin and gently brings my face towards his direction. He locks his eyes with mine. He smiles at me. My knees are weakened. Everything is stuck in my throat. I suddenly feel paralysed and unable to do anything but let my heart beat abnormally fast for this guy.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you. I guess I’ll see you around”, he says. He pecks my lips then the entire squad that was in the elevator, including him, sprint out of the elevator. I literally fall to my knees. I suddenly need to pee.