I’m chilling in the dining area of my house, going through some paperwork regarding the new house that my family and I will be moving too. With everything that’s been going on, my plans with my family haven’t changed. And I’ve made a decision to not feel bad about it. Thabang and I spoke to our kids about the changes that are about to happen. They are excited – slightly annoyed that they’ll be driving a bit further from home to school – but they are fine to downgrade. With my royal house housing benefit, I will not be paying any bond. I will also not be paying for my Hyundai Tuscon. Thabang and I traded in our BMW X7 for a Golf 7. It’s cheaper. We were even able to pay it off so we don’t pay instalments monthly. This will also help with petrol for Thabang driving up and down.
He has the king’s ear about his plan to start his resort. I’m proud of him. No lie. We was able to put a down payment for the land where the resort will be. Now the project to create the resort is what will happen next. We are looking forward to it. I’m looking forward to it for him. 

“Morafe”, my mom says, touching my shoulder.
I’ve been deep in thought. Yoh! Deep in thought and reading all this paperwork. My mom and my sister’s kids are still here at the house with us.
“Dumela mme“, I say.
The kids have gone to school – my kids. Thabang is still serving his notice, so he is possibly at his office. 
“I’ve made us some tea. I thought that we could maybe have a conversation”, she says, putting coffee in front of me. 
I accept the coffee and say thank you.
She sits down in a chair next to me. She also has her cup of coffee.
“Rafe, I know that you didn’t have a good relationship le ausi wahao. And maybe I’m to blame for that because I was much more harder on you than I was on her. I contributed to her being irresponsible while not paying attention to the consequences of that – that one day, she would be your problem. No child deserves to carry the responsibility of parenting another child. And I’m sorry that I didn’t do my bit to ensure that Mmaletuka was an independent and self-sufficient woman – especially so that she could look after her children.”
I’m still quiet because I need to understand where this is going. Oksalayo, I’m not taking on her kids. It’s not happening.
“Morafe, I’m an old woman now. I don’t have the strength to look after children anymore. I can’t take these kids.”
“So who must take them, mama?” 
She looks at me.
“I’m going through changes myself. And le nna I’ve hit rock bottom before. You and Mmaletuka did nothing. I had to dust myself off, take my kids and find a way to carry on. Now I must take on two more kids? I even took your child. I’m raising her for you even though you couldn’t raise my kids for me when I needed you to… when I even begged you to. I must show you and Mmaletuka mercy that both of you combined couldn’t even show me? I’m not a better or bigger person, mme. From a very long time ago, I had to make a plan to accommodate myself and my two kids. That’s all I’ve ever had room for.”
“Morafe, I’m asking you, hle. I’m begging you.”
“Mme, put these kids in a boarding school. There are good boarding schools in Tholoana Kingdom with programs that are designed to do what we can’t at home. They will visit for holidays. Sometimes they will visit you. Sometimes they can visit us. But they cannot live with me. I don’t have the capacity. As it is, I’m moving to a smaller house. Ba tlo robala kai? Or keng? My kids must give up their comfort for bana baMmaletuka? It’s not happening. I’ll pay for their fees. I can take care of them from that perspective. But more than that, I have nothing mama. I have nothing left to offer them.” 
“Am I responsible for pelo yahao empi so?” She says.
Now she’s offending me. And she needs my money. She seems to be forgetting that.
“You can call me whatever you want to call me. But bana baMmaletuka –
“Ka setso, they are your children now. Are you aware of that?” 
“Mme, boarding school or they go and live with you at a house that I find for you. They’ll attend school there and re tla bona ho re reyetsa jwang from there. That’s my stance. It’s up to you to decide what’s best.”
She shakes her head at me with disgust. 
And you know what, it’s fine! 

…

Two weeks later.

Today, my mom is moving into her new house. Last weekend, we took Mmaletuka’s girls to boarding school right here in Taung. They are not far from where my mom is staying. It’s an all-girls boarding school. Each grade stays together… so they’ll see each other, but they don’t live together. I bought them uniform, civilian clothes, luggage bags, toiletries and school bags. They were upset, but they’ll get used to it.
Mama yena… 
We found a three bedroom simplex in a retirement area. As we are unpacking her things, so many of her neighbours are coming in to greet her and welcome her to the village. They have all day programs here to keep her healthy, fit and entertained. She even has TV in here. 
“How will I find a man living in this place?” She asks me.
Meme and I laugh.
“You’ll find a rich one here, mama. Not the broke and married ones with unnecessary drama from Maja Perre.” Meme says.
We all laugh. 
“But can they perform in bed? Are they taught well past their money?” My mom.
Meme and I are so done. We are deep within laughter.
“Maybe I need a Ben10 watsiba… someone who is still flex and can keep a woman like me happy and satisfied.” My mom says.
“Mama, you’ve been through enough. Let us take care of you. See this as an opportunity to retire to a vacation. Sleep late. Wake up even later. Take part in activities. Start golfing. Drive your golf-cart everywhere. Just relax mama. If you meet someone, great. But if you don’t, it’s okay. Just let us take care of you.” I say.
“I need the two of you to promise me that you’ll always love and respect each other. Clearly, you are the two children I got right. Please… don’t ever turn on each other. Your relationship must never be what it was with Mmaletuka. Ke a le kopa banyana baka.” She says to us.
We both just hug her. 
We understand where my mom is coming from. She’s already lost a daughter… brutally so. We are all she has left.

…

“Motho waka”, Thabang says to me as we settle into our bed, preparing to wish the day goodbye. 
“Yes, my love?” 
“Are you sure about this? You know, we’d adjust if you really want us to live with Mmaletuka’s kids. I just don’t want you to have any regrets about any of this at a later stage.” He says.
“That’s sweet of you, but I’m sure. Thabang, we are swamped. Where are we supposed to find room and capacity to take on so much more than what we can handle?” 
“Love… these things are… it’s one of those things we can never plan for but they just happen. And we deal with them as they happen.” He says.
Now I’m getting irritated. 
I look at him.
“What if it were Mosetsana and Tshenolo in these kids’ shoes, baby? Would you want your sister to just –
“First of all, my sister would have done nothing! Absolutely nothing! So don’t sit there and make it seem like I’m ill-treating her children when I’m spending way much more than what she would have to make sure my kids landed okay. Mosetsana and Tshenolo could have easily been in that position. Their father has attempted to murder me multiple times – at times in front of Mosetsana and Tshenolo. Mama knew. Mmaletuka knew. Do you think they did anything about it? They did nothing. They couldn’t even accommodate me in that house that they lived in just so that I could hide my kids from that man. I had to be a mother and find a way to make sure that my kids are fine. Let’s say I did die. Let’s say he succeeded in murdering me. Do you know what would have happened? They wouldn’t have even got that man arrested. They’d have let that man take my kids – probably rape Mosetsana like all the times he had raped me… maybe even let him take them to Zimbabwe and mama as well as Mmaletuka would have been okay with never seeing my kids again. So as far as I’m concerned, I’ve done so much more for her kids than what she did for mine when they needed her… and so much more than what she would have done had it been me that died.” 
He stares at me. 
“You can judge me all you want, Thabang. I’m not living with those kids.” I say.
“I’m not judging you, baby. I just didn’t realise how much pain you were carrying inside of you – and anger towards your mother and your sister that you cannot let go of.” He says. 
“I’m trying my best! I don’t even want to give them R10 yaborotho. Every fibre of my being  wants nothing to do with Mmaletuka and her kids. I didn’t even want to spend my money to bury her. I know for a fact that she would have never done for me what is suddenly expected of me to do for her and her kids. But all of you judge me. You make me feel like shit. I wake up each morning with an internal war brewing inside of me because the part of me that wants nothing to do with this is fighting with the part of me that has a duty to deal with this. Do you know how exhausted I am by the time I go to bed because helping my mom and these kids brings me absolutely no peace?! Like, absolutely none! I can’t even sleep at night. I dream about Mmaletuka. She is just looking at me and not saying anything. I’m the one who’s just telling her how much I do not want to do any of these things. I wake up every morning feeling so exhausted. I just… Thabang… anyone who believes I’m a bad person can go to hell.” 
He pulls me into a hug. 
He cuddles me. 
At some point, I fall asleep. 

…

Family: the most selfish yet entitled group of people that you’ll ever come across in your life. They are probably the people that are least deserving of your love, kindness and generosity… but they demand it the most. Not just the financial part of it, but your entire spirit and being. 
I hate what Morafe is going through… I hate it because I actually truly understand it. Look at where I am with my own family? I admire people who have mastered the art of cutting off family members. Truly, I do. I think that if this were normalised in life, statistics around mental health and murder would go down by more than 60%. I actually am a firm believer that the average person is most likely to be murdered by a family member than by a complete stranger. 

A knock on my office door disturbs my intent to phone Morafe and check up on how she’s doing. 
I look up. 
It’s Mmakabelo. 
I thought they were still in prison.
She notices how surprised and annoyed I am to see her.
“I come in peace”, she says. 
I look at her. 
“Can I come in?” She asks me.
I shrug my shoulders. 
She walks in and sits down on an available chair across my table.
“We have signed the divorced papers”, she says as she hands me an envelope. 
“We were told that this was the condition from you for you to pay bail for us.” She says.
“I don’t know where you got that from, but I didn’t even pay your bail.” I say.
“Moholo Khotso said –
She realises I genuinely don’t give a fuck.
“Maybe he was just doing Morafe a favour. Morafe is close with his eldest daughter”, I say to break the awkwardness.
“He also said that if we agree to leave Taung and Dithabeng, you and Morafe would drop the charges.” She says.
“Again, I have no idea what you are talking about.” Me.
“We will leave, Thabang. Nna, mama, Mahali and everyone else. Papa will give up the chieftaincy as the royal house has requested. Please just drop the charges. We have kids. They need us.” She says. 
“What about Mmaletuka’s children? You know, the ones that you’ve now left without a mother?”
She looks away from me. 
I’m still staring at her.
“We messed up, Thabang. We know that we messed up. There’s absolutely nothing that we can say or do that will truly express how sorry and regretful we are. At this point, I’m honestly throwing myself at the feet of your mercy and am asking for forgiveness and mercy on behalf of the family.” 
I look at her. 
She looks at me.
“What happened, Mmakabelo? You were not this person when we got married. Yeah, it was an arranged marriage and we’ve been through shit. But you were not this thing that I now see before my eyes. What happened?” I ask her.
She actually lets a tear slip out of her beautiful big eyes that just always look curious about something.
“I fell in love with you, Mothipa. The marriage stopped being about duty and started being about so much more. But, you cheated. You were never home. And before I knew it, there was another wife that I had to accept. You stopped touching me and resorted to just fucking me for babies. My body became the Mothipa baby-making machine… so if you couldn’t give me a baby, someone else had to do it. I had to find a way to be dutiful again. And I did find a way. I did. Then Morafe came. And I saw your capability to love. To truly and unreservedly love. I’ve been in so much pain because that love wasn’t with me. The pain became desperation and I’ve been trying to find my way back to being human again ever since. I feel like I’m losing my mind.” 
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the role that I played in all of this. I’m sorry for the role that I played in bringing you to your knees like this.” I say.
She looks at me with so much relief on her face.
I get up from my chair, make my way around my desk, then I hug her… comforting her.
She just cries in my arms… weeps. 
I suddenly hear someone clear their throat. It’s Morafe. She’s looking at us. I let go of Mmakabelo. 
“I didn’t realise that you were busy”, she says. 
“No baby… I… we were just…” 
“I’ll see you later.” She says then walks out. 
I just feel like shit now.
“Mmakabelo, you have to go.” I say.
She nods her head. 
She leaves the divorce papers. 
“This is really awkward, but I really need money for –
I just give her an envelope of cash that I find in my desk. There must be about R20k in there. I just need her out of here. 
“Kea leboha.” She says then finally leaves. 

I couldn’t even think straight for the rest of the day. The minute the clock struck 4pm, I left the office. 
I’m arriving at home now. 
It’s my kids that greet me first with so much excitement. I return the excitement half-heartedly because I need to talk to their mother. 
“Where’s your mother?” I ask them.
“She said she has a headache. She’s sleeping.” Tshenolo says.
Eish. 
“Let me go check up on her, okay?” I say.
They excuse me. 
As I make my way up the stairs…
“Abuti Thabang”, Meme. 
I look at her. 
“Mahali was here.” 
Fucken hell! 
“Did you bail them out of prison then give them R20 000 to leave the country so that they don’t pay for what they did?”
“What?!” 
“Morafe told me to pack my stuff. She’s already packed for the kids. She’s busy packing her things now. This is the worst kind of betrayal! We are leaving you.” She says.
Now I sprint, making my way to my main bedroom. 
The door is locked. 
Yerrrr! 
“Morafe!” I loudly say as I bang on this door.
She doesn’t say anything.
“Morafe, open this door!” 
Nothing. 
“Morafe!”
Nothing. 
I break the door and march in. 
Bags are all packed vele. She’s not even looking at me. 
“Morafe, what’s going on?” I ask her.
She doesn’t even look at me or speak to me. She just paces around the bedroom, packing things.
“Morafe, ke buwa le wena.” I say, grabbing her arm.
“DON’T FUCKEN TOUCH ME! GET YOUR FUCKEN HANDS OFF ME!” She screams at me.
“Morafe, since when do we talk to each other like this?” I ask her. I’m actually hurt that Morafe, of all people, is talking to me like this.
“SINCE YOU GO AROUND HELPING PEOPLE THAT MURDERED MY SISTER, BURNED DOWN THE HOUSE THAT I GREW UP IN AND LEFT MY MOTHER WITHOUT A HOUSE!”
“I didn’t do any of that.” 
“UMAKA! WHY ARE YOU LYING?! I SAW YOU AND YOUR FIRST WIFE IN EACH OTHER’S ARMS, REMINISCING ON WHAT USED TO BE AND FINDING SOLACE IN FINDING EACH OTHER AGAIN!” She’s shouting and crying at the same time. The door is broken down and the kids are at the door watching all of this. 
“That’s not what was happening, Morafe.”
“I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!” 
“I do love you.”
“YET THAT’S HOW YOU HOLD SOMEONE WHO HAS PUT ME IN THE SITUATION THAT I WAS IN YOUR ARMS CRYING ABOUT JUST LAST NIGHT?!”
I don’t know why, but that statement attacks my soul. It’s not even a true reflection of what was happening. 
“I thought I could do this, Thabang. I thought I could be with a polygamous man. Clearly, I can’t. Technically, you did nothing wrong. All your wives deserve what you give me. Mmakabelo is going through a hard time and she needed that hug and the money you gave her. But it hurts. I’m hurting in places I never even knew existed inside of my body. You comforted her over murdering my sister! You were there for her after she left my mother homeless and my nieces orphans. I can’t forgive you for that. I cannot.”
“Morafe, baby… that isn’t what happened. Please. You need to unpack all of this stuff, sit down, calm down and allow me to have a conversation with you about the events of today.” 
“I’m done, Thabang. I understand that you have to support them throughout the situation… so I won’t be able to be your wife while you do that. My family suffered here. My family is still suffering. And for the record, I called the police on them. I just received confirmation that they’ve been arrested at the border for violating their bail conditions.”
What a fucken mess! 

…

I’m waking up on the couch. I couldn’t stop Morafe last night. She left. She took the kids and left. I drank myself to sleep. If I didn’t drink, my heart would’ve stopped beating. It was just too shattered. 

“Ntate Mothipa, you have some guests”, one of the domestic workers say to me.
Before I can even enquire on who my guests are, the guys walk in: Ntuthuko, Senzi and Keith.
“Gents”, I say.
“You look like you’ve been hit by a train”, Ntuthuko.
“I take it you’ve heard”, I say.
“She’s staying at my place while Wandi and I are at my dad’s house”, Senzi.
“Are they okay? Morafe and the kids?” Me.
“Morafe was crying all night. Mme Thabi had to sedate her so she could sleep.” Senzi.
“What?!” 
“Look, my dad and Moholo Khotso are talking to her. We know that you didn’t bail those people out of jail. That they can speak to. But the hug and the 20k? What is that about?” Senzi. 
Yoh! 
“Mmakabelo came to drop off divorce papers”. Me.
“So the hug was to say thank you?” Keith.
“Ndoda, Morafe told Tamia that if she didn’t walk in when she did, you would’ve fucked MmaKB on your desk.” Ntuthuko.
What the hell?! 
“How did she reach that conclusion? Mmakabelo was crying in my arms.” Me.
“The words used were ‘the hug was enduring’. Nasi!” Ntuthuko. 
“I need to see Morafe.” I say.
“Just let her cool off a bit.” Senzi.
“It’s just… I asked Mmakabelo how she ended up becoming so vindictive. This is not who she was when we first met. She told me I was to blame because I didn’t love her nor did I reciprocate the love that she had for me. I felt bad that I’m the one that fucked her up. And chances are that I did the same to Mahali. So I apologised and comforted her pain.” Me.
“By giving her an enduring hug and almost fucking her on your desk?” Ntuthuko.
“I DID NOT –
I catch the guys laughing. This is not the time for jokes. 
“Lalela ndoda… ngeke akulahle lo muntu. But the trust is a bit weirdly strained. What was the 20k for?” Ntuthuko.
“She needed money for a taxi”. I say.
“Taxis cost 20k now?” Keith.
I just look at him. 
“You’ll need to just tell her all of this.” Senzi.
“Hai hai hai, eh baba! For what?!” Ntuthuko.
“It’s the truth!” Senzi.
“Ey! All Morafe needs to know is that KB brought divorce papers, uThabang wabonga. The hug was wrong kodwahe was relieved ukuthi konke sekuphelile. Lezi zokuthi they were talking about loving and not loving and not reciprocating what what… unnecessary information! No one you love wants to hear that shit. The 20k was so that his dad, his multiple wives, children and grandchildren could have R500 each to survive until they make another plan. 20k for a taxi will get you divorced, sbali sami. Don’t behave like ushayiwe ngesigcwala mdidi! Lungisa umuzi wakho!” Ntuthuko. I actually agree with him.
“Tell her the truth, Thabang. You did nothing wrong. If you are honest, she will believe you if these people keep coming back and don’t give you peace. She needs to know that she can trust you. If you are honest now when the truth is not pretty, she will not doubt you when the truth is a little nicer.” Senzi.
“I’m with Senzi on this one.” Keith. 
“Eh baba… Morafe is not the woman that analyses when the truth is pretty or ugly. You know your wife! Ipantsula leliya elibuya emasimbeni ngamadoda. You don’t deal ne-pantsula using i-curriculum lase-private school… abo ugly truth nabo pretty truth. Don’t over share shit that will be of no benefit to your relationship!” Ntuthuko.
“The truth is the truth and it shall set you free – no matter how ugly the truth is.” Senzi.
“Mfundisi! Ziphathe kahle! Uzochitha unshado!” Senzi.
They are both just giving me a headache. Honestly.