Zelda

I have an office now and I’m pretty sure that my job title has been made up. Basically, I now only clean Mr and Mrs Msomi’s studies, still look after their kids then I coordinate events for Mrs Msomi: personal events as well as work-related events. I do nails and hair for Mrs Msomi, Mbali and their close friends. I dress up nicely for work now. The cottage has been turned into office space. It’s an office space for two. On days when she feels like a change of scenery, she works in here with me. 

I just finished cleaning the studies and bathing Siya. Sis’Sonto and Aus’Puseletso are still tense around me, but I’ve decided to move on from that. Mthunzi spent the night at my place last night. I left him there this morning when I came to work. That relationship is… ja. I don’t know. 

Mrs Msomi has been extremely bipolar lately. I notice her mood swings a lot more now that I work closer with her. The smallest things set her off. I sometimes wonder how I cope or keep up with her hot and cold. But here I am, a week in and I am still standing. 

I walk into the cottage/office space and I find Mrs Msomi already settled in her desk with coffee, working on her laptop. I have already seen her this morning so I will not be saying good morning again. I settle at my desk and start working as well. Today, my work is mostly administration therefore, I do not need to speak to her a lot. I can practically work with my headsets on today. 

“Is Mr Msomi back yet?” She asks me. 

“I haven’t seen him, Mrs Msomi”, I say. I am feeling a little guilty because I know where he is. He did say he would go straight to work from my place. 

She nods her head then says, “Have you ever met the woman that he is running around with?” 

My heart almost jumps out of my chest. My stomach feels super tight. I could actually throw up right now. 

“Mrs Msomi, what makes you think he is with someone else?” I ask, trying to figure out how much she actually knows. 

“I’m not stupid, Zelda. Besides, a woman always knows when her man is sleeping with another woman. Mthunzi has been cheating for the past three years now. It is just that these days, he seems happier, lighter even. I’m just wondering who this one might be. I’m asking you about this because he drives you to your house a few times. Have you seen or heard anything?” She says. 

“Mrs Msomi, I just usually mind my own business.” I say. 

She looks at me suspiciously. 

She shrugs her shoulders.

We work in silence for a few minutes then my mother phones me. Mrs Msomi does not look my way, so I take my call. 

“Mama”, I answer. 

“Koena, ushup ngwanake?” My mom.

“Ke shup. I’m at work. Is everything okay?” I ask her. 

“Mohavi got hit by a car hle, Koena”, she says. 

I am on my feet and packing my bag already. Mrs Msomi seems concerned, but irritated at the same time. 

“Where is he mama? Is he okay?” I am asking in panic. 

“He is in hospital”, my mom says. 

“Mama, where did this happen?” I ask. I am crying now. 

“At his school. His teachers just phoned me”, my mom. 

“I don’t understand, mama. He is supposed to be in class. Why was he in the streets?” Me. 

My mom has now hung up. Her airtime must have ran out. 

I throw my phone in my bag saying, “Mrs Msomi, I have to go. My child has been involved in an accident.” 

“So when you say you are going, you are going to Mafikeng?” She asks me, as if I should think about this. 

“Yes”, I say, already jogging to the door. 

“Zelda, I don’t mean to be insensitive at all. I definitely appreciate that what has happened to your son is quite sad, but your parents are there. We have an event to plan for next weekend and you need to come in this weekend for Siya and Mbali because I am traveling this weekend. Do you at least know when you will be back?” She says. 

I just shake my head and run out of the cottage. 

Thank God I am wearing All Stars because I am now jogging to the taxis rank. 

Before I even get to the rank, a taxi slows down next to me. 

“Uyaphi sisi?” The driver asks me. 

“Joburg”, I say. 

“Asambe“, the driver. 

I hop in. 

The taxi is a bit full and I am thankful that the taxi will not be stopping until we get to Joburg. 

Mthunzi phones me. 

“Hey”, I answer. 

“Sindi just texted me to tell me you just took off to Mafikeng. Is everything okay?” He asks me.

“Mohavi has been in an accident. My mom phoned me and told me that he was hit by a car”, I say. I am getting emotional. 

“Where are you?” There is urgency in his voice. 

“I am in a taxi to Joburg. From Joburg, I’ll catch a taxi to Mafikeng”, I tell him. 

“I’ll meet you at the rank”, he says. 

We arrive at the taxi rank in less than an hour. I see Mthunzi’s car across the road so I run to it. I get into the front seat. I am breathing heavily and am crying. He holds my hand. 

“Please allow me to take you to Mafikeng”, he says.

I am honestly in no mood to be romanced right now. Just drive, dude. My heart is already there. My body is failing to get there fast enough. 

I just nod my head and he drives. 

The traffic is terrible. I am just so restless. Mthunzi does not know what to do. He keeps looking at me and I think I am making him nervous. 

I phone my mother and she answers after three rings. 

“Koena”. 

“Mama, where are you?” I ask. 

“I’m at the hospital, Koena”, she says. 

“How is he, mama?” I ask. 

“I don’t know. They have not let us see him yet. There is one doctor on duty and the nurses are not bothered to talk to us”, she says. 

“Oh my God”, I say, throwing my face into my hands. Tears stream down my face. 

“Koena?” My mom says. 

“I don’t have a good feeling about this, mama”, I whisper as my sobs become me. 

“No my baby, don’t think like that”, she says. 

I just hang up and cry into my hands. 

Mthunzi and I arrive at the hospital just after 7pm. We get to reception and there is no one there. I search the hospital for my mother and I find her with my dad eventually. Next to them, sits Thabiso, Mohavi’s father. 

“Mama”, me. 

“Yho Koena, hello”, my mom. 

“Anything yet?” I ask. 

My mom shakes her head. 

This is ridiculous. 

Mthunzi and Thabiso have now met and are shaking hands. 

The first nurse I see, I stop her dead in her tracks and say, “Someone better tell me what’s going on with my son.” 

“Your son?” The nurse. 

“Yes, my son. He was brought in here this morning already and nobody has come to tell us what’s going on”, I say. 

“Who’s your son, sesi?” She asks me. 

“Mohavi Letswalo”, I say. 

“The little boy who was brought in by his teachers?” She says. 

I nod my head. Everyone is standing next to me now. 

“Yho sesi, no one has spoken to you? Not even the teachers?” The nurse. I don’t like her tone. She sounds like she is about to tell me bad news.

“That’s what I’m saying. Nobody has said anything to me”, I say. I am irritated now. 

“Sesi, he passed away upon his arrival…” 

I hear nothing else after that. 

Mthunzi is holding me, but I still feel like I am about to fall apart. Thabiso is talking to the nurse. My dad is with him. My mom is sitting next to me on the bench. I do not even know when I got to the bench. I am overcome by everything that pain carries. My tears keep pouring down my face. 

I want to scream. I need to scream. But my scream is stuck in my heart. I want the scream to come out because it is cracking my heart. 

My son has passed away. 

It is midnight now and I am still sitting on this hospital bench unable to talk. My parents left to go prepare our house for mourning. Mthunzi promised them that he would drive me back home. Thabiso and I need to go and identify Mohavi’s body. Thabiso phoned a funeral home as we don’t want to leave him at a government hospital mortuary. 

“Koena, the undertakers are here. We really need to go and get his body.” Thabiso says to me. 

This just makes me breakdown even more. 

“Baby, look at me.” Mthunzi.

I just cry.

“Come on, look at me”, he says again. 

I look up at him. My eyes are blurry from the tears. I see the undertakers standing in front of me. 

“Baby, let’s just do this one thing. I’m right here with you. Let’s do this one step at a time. We will get there. I know it is difficult, but trust me, my love. Trust me. Come on, hold onto my hand and let’s do this” Mthunzi says. 

He helps me stand up and holds my hand. Thabiso leads us to the hospital’smortuary. They have already taken his body there, but they are letting us view it.

They bring Mohavi’s body to the window. They expose his face. 

My beautiful baby boy. He is so peaceful. He doesn’t even look hurt. He has a few scars on his face, but nothing that has never been there before. He has hurt himself before and looked like this. But he didn’t die. 

Mthunzi has his arms around me, as if I am going to faint any minute now. Thabiso looks at me. 

He nods to someone. 

My son is taken away. 

…

Mama prepared one of the outside rooms for Mthunzi to sleep. This morning,Mthunzi drove back to Gauteng and promised to return later with some clothes for both of us. I sent Mrs Msomi a message that Mohavi has passed away. Her reply was, “Ok”. 

Mbali phoned me and expressed her condolences. She told me she would ask her father to bring her and Siya to the funeral. She is sweet shame. 

I was asked to sit on the mattress and listen to people tell me how great my son was and how sorry they are that he is gone. I refused, so mama is sitting on the mattress. Thabiso fetched me so that we can go and sort out funeral stuff and burial arrangements for Mohavi. The drive in his Ford Ranger is silent. We honestly have nothing to say to each other. I just keep crying, even when I’m silent, my face carries my tears. 

“Koena, I’m really sorry about everything”, he says.

“Please don’t do this. This is not a sweep-under-the-rug kind of conversation. If you want to have this conversation, man up and do it properly. But not right now. I’m mourning my son. I refuse to engage in any conflict”, I say. 

He nods his head. 

We arrive at the funeral home where my son is kept. We sit at the reception until someone helps us. Thabiso lets me pick out the casket. I choose a marble casket for my son. Thabiso then says we should get a tombstone head. So we will bury him and unveil his tombstone all at the same time. I don’t argue with him. He offered to pay for everything and I didn’t argue with him. I don’t have the money anyway. But I do have a policy with this very funeral home so we agree to use my policy to cover catering and family cars. 

We decide on the wording that will go on the tombstone. It will read: 

“In loving memory of our son and grandson:

Mohavi Mohau Letswalo

Sunrise: 2013-11-11

Sunset: 2021-08–26

Robala ka kagiso Malesela”

The tombstone will be in white and the writing in gold. It will also have his picture engraved on it. 

Never in a million years did I think I would be doing this- preparing to bury my son. It feels so unnatural. Mohavi was supposed to bury me. 

We leave the funeral home and get something to eat at Nandos. 

“He was born on my birthday”, Thabiso says as we indulge in food. 

I keep forgetting that he is probably hurting too. He was never there so I haven’t taken a minute to really care about how he is feeling. But when I hear him say that statement, I realise that he is clearly at a worse place than I am. I was in Mohavi’s life from day one. I got to be his parent until his last day on earth. He just woke up and got the parent memo. He must be going through a lot and answering questions he wish he had enough time to tell Mohavi. 

“He was a great child. You would have loved him if you let him into your life a lot sooner”, I say. 

I hurt him. 

“I’m sorry”, I say. 

“I understand”, he says.

“Why now? Why come back now into his life when you never wanted to be part of it to begin with?” Me. 

“You said you didn’t want to talk about this”, he says. 

“I don’t want to talk about why you rejected him. I want to know why you wanted to come back now”, me. 

“It was the right thing to do”, he says. 

I nod my head and eat. I’m struggling to finish this meal, but I try. 

Mthunzi calls me. 

“Hey”, I answer.

“Hey. I was just checking up on you”, him.

“Did you arrive safely?” I ask. 

“Yeah I did. I just loaded the car so I am going to drive back now. I will see you in a few hours. How are the arrangements going?” Mthunzi. 

“Thabiso and I have managed to get all the funeral stuff arranged. We just eating now then we will head back home”, I say. 

“How’s that going?” Him. 

“It’s going”, I say. 

“I’m proud of you for letting him be part of this”, he says. 

“Thank you, babe. Mbali and Siya phoned me earlier today. They said they’d talk to you about bringing them to the funeral”, I say. 

“What do you think about that?” He asks. 

“I appreciate the gesture, but anything could be said around them. There is a conversation that must take place first before something like that can happen”, I say.

“Okay. I will sort it out, don’t worry”, him. 

“Please drive safely. I’ll arrange for you to sleep upon your arrival. You need your rest”, I say. 

He giggles. 

“I’ll see you soon, my baby”, him.

“Bye babe”, me. 

After I hang up, I catch Thabiso staring at me. 

“What?” Me. 

“What’s going on there?” He asks me. 

“Nothing serious”, me. 

“I saw a ring on his finger”, he says. 

“Your point?” Me.

“I’m just saying… and wondering if it’s yours”, he says. 

I don’t answer him. 

“These kinds of things never end well, Koena”, Thabiso says.

…

A night vigil is taking place now for Mohavi. Mthunzi has arrived, but within minutes, he has changed into an overall and is within hard labour. I keepbringing food for him and Thabiso, seeing that they are best friends now, so they would ensure great strength. 

They are now sitting outside and I am in the kitchen. Thabiso and I are called to go sit in the bedroom while the priest prays. Thabiso’s family is here as well, acting like they’ve always known Mohavi and they’ve always been his life. 

I don’t even hear any of these things that the priest keeps saying. I just wait it out. I see Thabiso sitting on a chair next to the mattress I’m sitting on. He is just as board. 

My cellphone vibrates. 

“You are beautiful”, Mthunzi texts to me.

I smile at my phone. This is the first smile I’ve released since Mohavi passed away. 

“You are handsome”, me. 

His wife phones me. I cannot answer. She keeps calling and I keep letting the phone ring. After three missed calls, she sends me a text that reads:

 “When you get a minute, I need you to phone me and talk to me about a few things regarding final arrangements for our event. Thanks.”