I did not expect Lu to receive me with her arms wide open. But I do respect her for letting Siya bury his father the way that her kids are burying their father. For that reason, I will happily sit at the back with everyone else and let the family be. 

She has really gone out of her way to make sure that George rests in peace, power, dignity and respect. She is letting Siya be part of laying him to rest, keeping drama away from how people will always remember him. This is the most dignified funeral I have ever been at and I salute her for that. 

She let Siya sleep with them last night in the mourning bedroom. My mom, Sandile, KG and I went back to our hotel and stayed there. 

I spoke to Siya this morning and he told me that mama Lu bought him a suit for the funeral. I had also bought him a suit – and a very nice one at that – for this funeral. Why would Lu buy him another one and not even ask for my permission at least? I don’t want this woman thinking that we owe each other favours or that we need her help. 

When I see Lu and her kids dressed in all white, I get why Siya needed a new suit. I bought him a black suit. Now he is in a white suit next to his siblings. I don’t know what Lu said to her kids to get them to accept Siya, but they all seem and look like they’ve known each other for years and they love each other. Siya walks in holding hands with the younger sister. I heard her name is Slindokuhle. The other son, Bonke, was holding hands with the older daughter, Buhle. Lu walked in holding hands with George’s mother. 

This is what it means that “to dust we shall return.” 

George trafficked people. He used women to seal business deals. He took an entire human being and sized her up to a mere prostitute so that his family could be okay. Now, I’m here, at his funeral, and I am experiencing the most pure part of him. This is his family. These are his people. This is his home. All of them have been nothing but nice and the furthest thing from being evil. My son, Siya, is dressed in white and joins the purest part of George, yet he represents everything that was evil about him. He is a product of the most impure relationship that George had – and that was a relationship with me. Today, that giant returns to dust. 

“Are you alright?” KG asks me. 

I nod my head. 

“You sure?” 

Yeah. 

The photo of George on the funeral programme is so perfect. He looks so handsome, so powerful; he looks exactly the way that we all knew him to be. Siya is listed as one of George’s children on this programme – again, something I did not expect, but here it is. 

Every powerful man I can think of who was in his circle is here. The Ramagoshis are here looking rich, the Mthethwas are here – well Mzwakhe is here is his second wife, Thobile. Even the crew from Tholoana Kingdom is here – Shaka and Kenosi Maphumulo as well as Mohato and Kea Mohale. I’ve been with each of these men. Lol. It’s funny to me how proud their wives are to be standing next to them – including the one wife who is burying the husband who I had more of her husband than she did. In my opinion anyway. Each of these men have given me disgusted looks – questioning my audacity of being here and even revealing this child that was never supposed to be revealed to Lu. Oh well, they can all best bet that I’ll attend their funerals too when their penises finally kill them. 

But their looks do have me worried. These are very powerful men. Anything can happen to me and they can make the evidence disappear. They are just those people. 

The kids are reading the wreaths now. My son is up there with Lu’s kids. Now these powerful men are giving me looks that are scaring me. My audacity might have just have killed me now. 

When they are done, I’m nervous and Buhle reads the eulogy. She has three siblings next to her. 

“You are very brave, aren’t you?” Shaka Maphumulo says to me as I make my way to my car. We are now headed to the graveyard. 

“My son needed to bury his father. Lu understands.” I say. 

“Make sure your car is road worthy when you leave. And when you get home, make sure all your doors are locked and your windows are closed tightly. You clearly have no idea what you’ve done and there are people here who have no problem showing you what you’ve done.” 

WTF? 

“My son – 

“If you really loved him, you would have thought twice about your little stunt. Like I said, you are very brave.” 

His wife pulls his hand and I am left in my own thoughts to wonder and stay in fear. 

The scene at the graveyard is the most painful. We all thought Lutha was going to fall into the grave with the coffin. She cried so hard. There is not a single dry eye at this grave site right now. But her kids kept her together through it all, including my child. Now we are headed back to the Maluleke home. 

Lutha is talking to everyone, thanking them for coming and showing support. She settles at a table where all the first wives of thug-bastards are sitting together. They are chatting away and their husbands are sitting with them. They are all telling her that if she needs anything, she must reach out to them. But she will be taken care of – it’s what they do. More women like me will be used to make sure that she and her kids never need anything in life. Lives will not be spared and there will be no mercy provided on any woman who is seen to be fit to exchange sexual favours to seal business deals. 

I need to get going, so I want to go and say thank you to Lu, take my child and leave. As I approach the elite group, the husbands are all already looking at me. I pull myself together. 

“Lu”, I say. 

She looks at me. 

“I just wanted to say thank you for letting Siya be part of everything and letting him bury his father. It really means a lot.”

She just nods her head at me. 

“We are headed back now, so I’ll be taking him back home with me.” 

She nods her head again. 

I don’t know how to read her. But I’m beginning to think that she is a slight cow. But for the sake of my son, I just walk away. 

I find him sitting with Bonke under the tent too. 

“Fana, let’s go.” I say to Siya. 

“Can I ask that Mama Lu brings me back home? I’d like to stay until next week Sunday for when we have to do the cleansing.” He says. 

Why would they talk to him about that and not me? I was just with Lu. She said nothing. 

“Siya, we have to go. And you know this is not how we do things.”

“He was my dad. I don’t want bad luck. If I don’t get cleansed, I’ll have bad luck. Do you want me to have bad luck?” 

I charge back to Lu.

“Can we talk? It’s urgent.” I say to her. I don’t care about the elite group. She stands up and looks at me. 

“Siya wants to stay for the cleansing. Why was I not told about this?” 

“You are not George’s wife, I am. I don’t owe you anything.”

“Luthando, Siya is my son. I shouldn’t be hearing this from him. Surely, we should talk for the sake of Siya.”

“Like we talked for the sake of my children when you opened your legs for my husband.” 

Oh, we are there. 

“If I leave Siya, will you please have him let me know when you are back in Gauteng so I can pick him up?” 

She just looks at me. 

“Thanks.” I say then walk away. 

…

My family and I have been in a car accident. I don’t know where my family is, but I am tied up in a basement of some sort. My body is in a lot of pain. Why am I not receiving medical attention? 

Shaka Maphumulo walks in. He is dressed in a suit and a coat that is up to his calves. 

“Hello”. He says to me. There are men walking in behind him. 

“I’m hurt, Shaka. I need medical attention.” I say. 

“George is dead and you need to respect him. Why are you torturing his wife and kids?” 

“I’m not torturing his wife and his kids. Siya is George’s child. Why am I supposed to have my son suffer when both George and I made that child? Siya just wanted to bury his father. That’s all.” 

“Well, you are lucky that Luthando is not moved by your existence in her life so she just saved your life. But we do need some sort of insurance that you will stay away from her.” 

“I’ll stay away. You have my word.” 

“That has become meaningless now. So your son’s life has become our insurance. Now that he’s become close to Lutha. You step one more toe out of line, and your kid is mincemeat. Siyezwana?”

What the hell? My child? 

“That’s an order from the pope, himself.” He says then finally leaves. 

I am untied then escorted to the hospital by the men he came in with. 

I’m in tears. I’m scared. My child? Not my child. Please God, not my child!

…

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