A month ago, I walked out of prison and I swore to all that was inside of me that I’d never go back there. I did my fifteen years and it had been a long fifteen years. The worst part is not even the time that I did. It is the time that I missed out on my child that hurts me the most. I came out of prison to find a grown woman who is now old enough to even make me a grandmother. I will never state it enough how grateful I am that she kept our relationship going. She came to see me every week. She spent every family holiday with me in prison. It may have been just for one hour at each visit, but it has made all the difference. She gave me the opportunity to watch her grow up and I listened to her tell me about her university experience and this boyfriend of hers that she now has – Senzi. I don’t even know his last name. The stories she’s told me have definitely made me laugh, but they’ve also put me in protective mode because I don’t want people making my daughter feel as if she’s less of a person because of her mother is a convicted criminal and her father is useless. For that I am thankful to her beautiful heart. 

The other sad part was listening to her tell me how hard she’s working for herself because Nathi had written her off. I’m not sure if I will ever forgive him for that. Bottom line is that I feel like I know my daughter. But this is my time to really know her. I play catch-up with her life with every event that takes place in her life. I do also feel like I need Nathi to know her better. Regardless of the father that he has been to her, he has lived life with her and he knows far much more than I would ever know from behind some steel bars.

She and I are getting ready to go out for lunch right now. She showered while I bathed – yes, in one bathroom. We chatted throughout the bath/shower. Now we are almost all dressed up. She’s so beautiful. Her entire body took after me… thick thighs, thick bums, small boobs and a flat tummy. I wish she took after my mother with the boobs. My mom left none for me or my Wandisa. But she’s the spitting image of Nathi and his children with Thandeka. She took Nathi’s smile, his fair and light-skinned complexion and his eyes. She got his hair type too and that’s great news because my hair is disabled shame. I didn’t live in wigs for nothing. When I got into prison, I just stayed with short hair. Wandisa has her relaxed hair hitting her back so beautifully. And it’s so thick! 

It still bugs me that my child uhlala emaroomini. My child? Uhlala emaroomini? They look nice, but okusalayo ama-room. 

The room is actually nice, yes. Everything in here make it look like a Sandton apartment. 

She has a mini kitchen in here. She has a nice LG fridge, LG microwave and stunning kitchen appliances. Why is she in a back room and not in an apartment? 

…

Wandisa decides to take me to some restaurant outside some church. Apparently, this is the church that Thandeka’s kids were telling me about where Wandisa’s boyfriend is the pastor. This is not the church that you have in mind. There is an office building here that actually has staff walking in and out as if they are making serious money for an organisation. Then there is a church. The church is MASSIVE! I haven’t even been inside, but I’m sure it’s one of those that have cinema size screens and bands and and and… 

Then there is a mall. An actual mall. The first few shops sell church-related things, i.e., objects that have the word “holy” next to it. Then the rest are normal shops that you’d find in an actual mall. Then there are restaurants. But they are all church-related restaurants. We are eating at one of them. This doesn’t feel anointed shame. Even the church inside of prison felt more anointed than this.

“Wandi, why are we eating here?” I ask her. 

She laughs then says, “What’s wrong, mama? Your food doesn’t taste holy?”

I laugh. 

“I get to eat for free here. I have vouchers for days. Whenever you feel hungry, grab a voucher and come eat here.” She says. 

“Why do you have these vouchers? Do you attend church here? I thought this was a Senzi thing, not yours.”

“Something like that”. 

“Something like that?” 

“This church… this land nje and everything in it and within the gates surrounding this place… it belongs to Senzi’s parents.” She says.

My eyes widen. 

“The dad is the bishop or something to that effect. The mother is the head lady. She’s a bitchand she’s not afraid to flaunt the bitchiness. Senzi is a head pastor.” 

“I thought he was a pilot. When did that change to him being so devoted to ubufundisi that he is the head pastor? ” 

She laughs. I’m actually being serious.

Then she says, after a good laugh, “Mah, he is a pilot. But the church is a family business. They are the famous first family in the country… the Twala family.” 

“Wandisa!” 

“What?” 

“You are dating Laura Twala’s son?!”

This child! 

“You know Senzi’s mother?” She is surprised. 

“Hey baby”, I see a very handsome young man kiss her cheek and hug her. 

I look at him. Oh, he’s here with Laura. 

“Maphuthi Ngwenya”, Laura says to me. 

“Laura Akkufo… I hear it’s Laura Twala now.” I say. 

“It is. I thought you’d be Maphuthi Buthelezi by now. Instead, you are prisoner number?” 

Wandisa becomes immediately defensive. But I chip in because I can handle Laura. 

“Don’t worry about my prison number, darling. I heard enough people throwing your name around inside that I might just need to start negotiating protection for you should your shit get caught.” 

Her face changes. 

“Is this how you clean up your money now?” I insist. 

“Mah, what is Miss Ngwenya talking about?” The son asks. 

“Senzangakhona, take Wandisa for a walk.” She says. 

“Mah –

“Senzangakhona, we all know how I feel about repeating myself. Take a damn walk! You too, Wandisa!” 

“Sorry sisi, you don’t talk to my daughter like that. Ungang’hlanyisi when I’m so fresh out of a cell!” 

Senzangakhona takes Wandisa by hand and they take a walk. 

Laura sits where Wandi was sitting. 

We face each other. 

“My family… they don’t know about how I got money to start all of this. They believe it was an inheritance from my family”, she says. 

I laugh. 

“The money you were promised when you agreed to eat the charges and do the time for us… it’s ready for whenever you are ready for it.” She says. 

“Good to know.” 

“So, how do we get it to you?”

“I don’t want my daughter asking questions. Give me a job around here and pay me a salary from that money. You can pay me R80 000 a month.” 

“What job are you going to do at a church?” 

“Do you think I’m stupid? This is a business. Not a church.” 

“To the world, it is. How am I supposed to explain an ex-convict serving the Lord through her career?” 

“I don’t give a shit. Tell them you believe in second chances because the bible tells us to forgive not only seven times, but seventy times seven times and more… I don’t give a shithow you spin it. But I want a house that my daughter and I can move to, and I want my life back. I’m Maphuthi Ngwenya and the only reason why my arrest took the heat off you and the others is because my name was big enough to make my arrest a reason for someone else’s promotion. If my name was not as big as it was, they would’ve known that I didn’t work alone. But my name was so big that it took heat off you. I did fifteen years away from my only child! When I ask for shit, I don’t expect resistance. I am Maphuthi Ngwenya. I was a CEO of a mining giant. Give me an executive role in whatever shit you are doing here. The R80 000 a month is what you all owe me. I want a salary from the church – the original church that this church ironically protects – on top of that. Collectively, R120 000 a month would be amazing.”

“It would keep you quiet and kept?”

“As I’ve been all these years”, I say.

She nods her head.

“Fine. I’ll phone the rest and let them know.” She says. 

I nod my head. 

“Are you still in business?” I ask her.

“I dabble in it. But not like I used to be”, she says. 

“And your husband?” 

“He’s a man of the cloth. He just keeps his face in the Bible and gets paid. I do all the work. You know how it is. Nothing much has changed over the fifteen years you were away.” She says. 

“And Senzi?” 

“Senzangakhona is fine. I’d like him to break up with your daughter. She’s not a good partner for him as a future bishop”, she says.

“And yet here you are next to a man of the cloth.” 

She gives me a look. 

“Lady Laura, can I get you something to eat or drink?” Some waiter asks her with fear. She shoos the waiter away like some fly. This is really the mam’fundisi of this place? 

“Mama, are you still okay?” Wandi. 

Oh, they are back. 

“She’s fine. She starts work as our Operations Managing Executive”, Laura says. 

“What?!” Wandisa is both shocked and disturbed. 

“That is great. Welcome, Miss Ngwenya”, Senzi says. 

“Thank you”, I say. 

“Maphuthi Ngwenya was dynamite. We would be fools to not take her on now that she’s back. Plus, it’s good for the church to show that we live by God’s instruction to forgive not only seven times, but rather seventy times seven times and more. Most importantly, we love all our neighbours as God has loves us”, Laura is such a bullshit artist. 

“Mama, what is this?” Wandi is the only one who is not convinced. 

“She’s doing what you should be doing by now, Wandisa… being part of the family church. You know it’s required if you and Senzangakhona decide to get married.” Laura. 

“Laura, I’ll talk to my own child, thanks.” I say. I hate how she addresses my child like some bad smell stuck under her bottom lip.

“Senzangakhona, we have a meeting with your father. Let’s get going.” Laura says. 

“I’ll call you later, baby. I love you”, Senzangakhona says to Wandi. 

Wandi smiles at him. 

They kiss. 

I look away. Laura looks disgusted. 

They leave. 

We are driving back to the township and backroom that my daughter lives at. We are moving soon. I’m getting my child out of here.

“How do you know Lady Laura?” She asks me.

“We used to be friends”, I say. 

“Illegal friends?” 

I’m quiet. 

“Mah, I don’t want you getting into trouble and going back to jail.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Lady Laura ukhohlakele. She didn’t just give you this job out of the goodness of her heart.” 

“You are right. She didn’t. But I need a job and she’s doing me a favour as an old friend. Within three months, we’ll afford a house somewhere nice.” 

“House?! Mama!” 

“Wandisa, I’m not breaking the law. It’s a job and it pays well. It’s for us.” 

“Fine.” She says. 

She’s a smart girl. She knows what she’s dealing with when it comes to Laura. I will not lie. It gives me some sort of relief about her relationship with this boy of hers. 

We get home. I’m actually tired. I used to pass sleep around 7pm in prison. My body is preparing to head into bed. 

This place is a bit rowdy. Wandi greets the guys and gives them food she took as a takeaway. She actually ordered meals for takeaway. I thought it was for us. But she brought it for men who just look ready to rob you. 

“Wandi baby! You are a star!” They say. 

She stays outside and chats to them as I make it inside the room. 

I hear them asking her who I am and she tells them I’m her mother. They cannot believe it. Apparently, I look too young to be her mother. 

I change into pyjamas. 

I get into bed. She finally comes inside the house. 

“And then? Those men out there?” I ask her. 

“They are professional criminals… well-known. They are my friends though. Keeping them close makes me drive the most wanted car amongst hijackers so freely.” This child! 

“Wandisa!” 

“Mama, I was seven when I was raped by my friend’s father and law-abiding adults couldn’t keep me safe. I learned how to protect myself from the age of twelve and I’ll have you know that criminals have protected me on these streets so much more than people who I was supposed to trust. So no, mama. I don’t look down on them. I look after them like they’ve always looked after me.” She says. 

I take a deep breath. She can see that she has slightly hurt me and you know what, she doesn’t care.

This girl is quite sleg and I’m learning it slowly but surely.

She takes out R500 from her purse. She walks out and I hear her telling these guys to stay safe out there. What is she giving them money for? I can’t even ask because she’s just told me to fuck off without saying it in too many words. 

She walks back into the room and locks the door and butler gate. 

“Wandi, what do you do again? For a living?” I just need to know…

She gives me a “none of your business look” at first, then she says… 

“I have a clothes and accessories boutique in Joburg CBD. Then I do hair and nails on the side. Maybe if I make enough money, I’ll open a hair and beauty spot somewhere in Joburg and create more jobs. Then I get acting and modelling gigs here and there.” 

I nod my hair. 

“I could never be an employee. I was not built for a nine to five.” She says. 

Must be nice. 

“So, why do you stay here and not in a decent apartment?” I ask her. 

“As a self-employed individual, I prefer to buy things cash and not on credit. I prefer to minimize my debit orders. So, I’ve been saving for a house and a car. Soon, I’ll be able to buy both cash.” She says. 

Smart. 

“Senzi bought me this car because I need to get around for when I buy material or need to get to work.” 

“Buy material?”

“Yep. All the clothes in my boutique.. I make myself.” She says. 

I suddenly feel so proud. 

“Those pyjamas… the bedding in here… the couch covers… all my clothes… the clothes in your wardrobe… I made all of these myself.” 

I’m in awe. 

“I’ll take you to my studio tomorrow. I’m actually working on a big order for some company and some rich housewives all over Hyde Park. I’m doing okay, mama. I really am.” 

“I’m so proud of you Wandisa wami.”

“Must I show you my social media page and website?” 

I nod my head. 

Ja no… I gave birth to myself la. 

We spend an hour going through her portfolio. I can’t believe this is my daughter. Wow! 

Her phone rings. The caller ID reads “Khanya”. 

She answers it and puts the call on speaker. 

Wandi: “Little brother”. 

Khanya: “Yo! Where you at?”

Wandi: “At my place. What’s up?” 

Khanya: “Pops is not well. He’s in hospital. Can I come and pick you up so we go see him? Mah said we should pick you up instead of letting you drive alone so late.” 

Wandi: “Eish skhokho sami, I’m chilling with my mom today”. 

“No, please go. I’ll be fine”, I say. 

Khanya is quiet. I guess he has heard what I’ve just said. 

“Are you sure?” She asks me. 

I nod my head. I want to sleep anyway.

“Okay. Text me the details. I’ll Uber there. You can give me a ride back.” Wandi tells Khanya. 

“Okay sure. See you now”, Khanya says. 

They hang up. 

As she changes and gets ready to go, I ask her: 

“You and your brothers are close, neh? Like, really close.” 

“We are. They are good people. Even Mam’Thandeka is good peoples. Ubaba is the nutcase.” She says. 

“So, you and your dad are not close?” 

“We are weird. But he tries, shame. I think we’ve just said hectic things to each other all the time. We try to reach out to each other in our own ways without being loud about it. Like… he buys suits and coats from me only. And when I make his suits and coats, I keep them top tier. He wears them with pride. Plus you know that ubaba likes looking like a snack.” 

I laugh. 

Her father is a snack. 

“Sometimes, he shows up at my shop and studio with lunch or dinner and coffee just to ask me how I am. When covid happened and my business was in trouble, he paid the salaries of my shop assistants. So, he steps up now. He’s not like how he used to be. We just need a breakthrough in our conversations and displaying the love that we have for each other. You know…” 

I nod my head then I say, “What are his thoughts on Senzangakhona?” 

“I’ve never asked and he’s never brought it up. So I don’t know. I just figure that if he has something to say, he will face me and say it.” 

This is quite the child yaz. 

It’s 10pm and I’m still stalking my child’s website. I’m so proud of her. God, thank you for keeping her for me. Let me make this right. Please let me make this right. 

As for Nathi…

I hope he dies.