Nkosi decided that he’s waking up at 4am today. And not for his boob, but to play. Because Khanya has been working long hours and also helping Mapho with royal stuff, I let him sleep in a bit longer. So, I took Nkosi and we went downstairs to chill. My kid went into his playpen and has been so happy playing with his toys. He says mama every five minutes, but ke , I’m happy. I just feel bad for him. He’s so bored. And I’m his best friend. I don’t even think I’m that exciting for someone his age. I always feel like I need to give him a sibling. When we were at my parents’ place, it was easier because Khabane’s three were there. So, he always had a friend or three. Now, it’s just him. And I’m really feeling so bad and bored for him. 

“Are you awake?” I see a text message from my mom. 

I have a baby. Why is she up at such ofd hours? 

“Yep. What’s up?” I reply.

She phones me.

“Hey mother”, I answer my phone.

“Hello, my baby. Bona, the Buthelezis delivered a letter here that they want to marry you”, she says.

“What?! Khanya didn’t even propose”, I say in panic. 

“Well, I guess this is his proposal.” My mom says. 

“Khanya Mara! I haven’t even lost all my baby fat yet. I want to be a hot bride! Why didn’t he warn me?!” I’m legit panicking and my mom is laughing at me.

“Well, you’ve got a week to get into shame. They are coming next weekend. I was calling to let you know that your father wants you and Nkosi home by the end of this week”, she says.

“WHAAAAAAT?!” I yell.

My mom laughs and Nkosi cries. 

“Hai, don’t make my Nkosi cry! What’s wrong with you?!” My mom now shouts at me.

I get Nkosi from his playpen and cuddle him. 

“So, I’ll see you soon, neh?” My mom says. 

“Okay. Shup”, I say. 

I’m still in shock. 

My mom ululates before she hangs up. 

I obviously can no longer hold myself now. With Nkosi on my hip, I run up the stairs to the main bedroom and wake Khanya up. 

“Yini manje?” He mumbles while his eyes are still closed. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that you sent a letter to my parents and that we are getting married like next week?” I say.

He opens one eye then smiles at me. 

“It’s not funny, Khanya. I’m no where near being prepared”, I say.

“Ruri, we’ve been living together for over two years now. We have a child together. How are you not prepared?” He says, still smiling at me.

“I’m not talking about being your wife. I already consider myself your wife. I’m talking about a wedding. I need to sew dresses because no designer does it quite like me – and I need to design the wedding and –

He kisses me to calm down. 

“I just want you to be my wife. I want to do right by you. You’ve honoured me so much. Please let me honour you”, he says. 

He’s so charming.

Now I’m the one that’s cheesing. 

“You really want to spend the rest of your life with me?” I ask him.

“I do”, he says.

I laugh.

He gets out of bed, wears a t-shirt, then says to me, “come, I want to show you something.” 

Now I’m looking at him and somewhat laughing.

“Woza. It’s a surprise I’ve been planning for you. I thought I’d give it to you after our wedding, but I just couldn’t contain myself. Come.” He says.

He holds my hand and leads me to the garage. 

NO FUCKEN WAY!!!!!!!!!

NO FUCKEN WAY!!!!!!!!!

NO FUCKEN WAY!!!!!!!!!

He sees that I’m about to faint, so he takes Nkosi from me.

I start screaming and running around this beautiful car that he has bought for me. 

Nkosi, thinking this is a game, screams with me. 

Khanya laughs at both of us. 

I’m so happy that I even get emotional.

It’s a fricken Brooklyn Grey Audi RSQ8. Yoh! What a beast! 

I can’t stop screaming. 

It’s big, sporty and edgy all at the same time. 

A car seat for Nkosi has already been installed in it. The interior is BEAUTIFUL! It’s black. It’s leather and has red stitching. 

I just hug him. 

I really won the jackpot with this one. 

We drove around in my new car – just to test drive it – and I thoroughly enjoyed it. We went to show my parents, and they were so happy for me. My dad gave Khanya a handshake to say thank you to him. Then my parents took it for a spin together. Then Khanyisa and Khabane took it for a spin. Everyone is so happy for Khanya and I. Oh man! My heart is about to jump out of my chest at this point. 

A week later, I’m at home – obviously with my new car – getting ready for my lobola negotiations tomorrow. Khanya went to KZN to gather his team. His grandmother and some of his father’s family members are helping him with this. Wandi also stepped up – him and Senzi. Wandi even said that the Zulu wedding should happen at their dad’s house, and the Buthelezi elders agreed. His mother won’t be able to make it because she’s locked up – and by the looks of things, she’s going to be locked up for a very long time… possibly life. But after we made plans for Khosini to have access to seeing his mother, he started being nicer and more supportive to Khanya. I don’t like him, but he’s that fly that’s just there and you just can’t wish him away. Just be careful, because it’s a fly that can kill you based on what it carries. 

I used this week to sew my outfits.

 It’s my wedding to the love of my life and I want to look like something you’ll never ever see again. Wandi asked me to make her, Senzi, their two kids, and the important KZN people outfits for the Sotho wedding. The Zulu stuff – they are sorted. I took advantage of being home, so my mom looked after Nkosi, and I was in full designer mode. She drove down with the completed outfits three days ago. She was with Senzi, the daughter Melo and their son, Shaka: named after his grandfather, Uncle Shak. But Shaka Maphumulo Jnr behaves like the wild Shaka we see on TV. Nuts, I tell you. Cute, but nutty. 

My family then also made me sew for them. I did. I sewed all these things happily because I got paid. The royal house and the Khuzwayos also asked because theirs had to be mourning, but still wedding-fit. And I GOT PAID. 

I was even telling Khanya that we could use this money to pay off the house, then we no longer paying bond. He agreed. I sent him the cash to make the payment. He sent me the proof of payment that it’s all paid up. Now we can have our wedding and not stress. 

I hear singing outside. So many people are here. 

Aunt Meh is here, but with one child instead of that gang she inherited from her rather suspicious boyfriend. But I guess you have to be suspicious of a man who prefers to be in the kitchen than in a boardroom. When I said this to my mom, she judged me. Now look! You can’t charm everyone to a kid with your cooking skills and think you are the shit. Their story made sense because qualified chef met domestic worker. You’d think that he would be her happily ever after financially. But nah, this dude was servicing debt with his last cent. Aunt Meh was the financial hero and he still had the audacity to treat her like one of his baby-mamas! I hope he doesn’t come. If he does, he can bake scones. 

Then, I apparently have another aunt: Palesa. I’m not calling her Aunt Palesa, even though Banathi forces Khabane and I to call him Uncle, then makes our kids call him mkhulu. That one is not normal. But they are here. And they are helping out. Palesa’s siblings – my aunt and uncles – are also here. My grandfather was a busy man. I’m sure if my dad didn’t pump bullets in him, his penis would have killed him. My dad is just happy about having a bigger family. I hope my dad doesn’t have any kids, because I will not be as welcoming as he is to anything that my mother didn’t give birth to… especially if it came from that Linda bitch! 

“Ruri! You need to come and eat”, I hear my mom say. 

“I’m coming!” I yell back.

It’s so loud. 

Khabane appointed himself as the DJ for my wedding. Imagine! 

“Ruri!” My dad barks.

Gosh! 

I step out of the room. 

My son jumps onto me. I miss him too. Mommy has been so busy. 

I pick him up and play with him. 

I’m in a doek and I have my sanna marena blanket over my sishweshwe. 

People sing for me and ululate. My friends are all here too… Wehweh, Zaza and Mapho. It’s chaos around here. Kids are running everywhere. It’s raining. People are singing about.

Then I see a kraal being prepared in the distance. 

“And then?” I ask my mom.

“Your dad wants walking cows”, she says.

“In the suburbs?” I ask. Because this is weird. I know our yard is HUGE! We could fit a farm on here. But no man, suburb etiquette is very necessary. We don’t do this.

“I’ve tried to fight it. Now my property is turning into a farm”, my mom says – annoyed. 

I actually laugh. 

Palesa gives me a plate of food and a glass of gemere. Apparently, she made it. And she makes good gemere. I tasted it at Uncle Zithulele’s funeral. 

I find a seat somewhere and sit down. 

I feed Nkosi and I eat. He’s super attached to me right now, so we might as well eat together. 

“Are you ready for this, nana?” My mom asks me. 

I look up and every married woman is suddenly sitting in front of me. 

Bathung! 

“I am, mom”, I say.

“It’s clear that he loves you. And we see that you love him too. But you know it takes more than love, right?” My mom.

I nod my head. 

“We love Khanya for you. We see you blossom the most when you are next to him. Take care of him. Love him. And from tomorrow onwards, he comes first – even before us”, Aunt Fifi says. 

That statement is particularly deep. 

“Ruri, you need to pray for your marriage and for your family. Have a corner in your house where you can light some candles and ask your ancestors to intercede for you at all times. Life can get very challenging. And with the high divorce rates and broken families, it has just become so much easier to walk away than to stay and put in the work. You’ll have your moments of wanting that too, but remember why you are doing this. Remember the love you feel right now… the love you felt when you agreed to be his wife… and lean on that when there’s nothing left to lean on”, Aunt Tlali says. 

Eish. 

“All the best, Ru. You are the only person that truly loves him for him… and sometimes, even remind his mother of that. She loves him because she gave birth to him. She doesn’t have a choice. But you love him with everything that he comes with – including that lunatic he calls mother. I know you’ll do amazing. You are the one I’ve always known to lead no matter where you ended up. We are all here for you. We love you. And you’ll always have our shoulders to stand on. So go out there and show those Zulu people that you are a moSotho woman”, Aunt Thabi says.

Now all these women get amped and start ululating. 

I smile. I even laugh.

I catch my dad laughing too from where he is standing. My mom seems proud of me. 

“Ho tsejwe ho re mosadi wa moSotho o kene lelapeng leo”, Mapho says. 

And they all start singing. Even my mom.. the men come in as well and start doing traditional dances to the singing of the women. 

Such a show off! But I love it. 

Ke mo Sotho! 

Ke moradi waSeete! 

Ho ba moSotho… ho ba moradi waSeete ke maemo. 

I’m proud of where I come from, and I carry that pride with me to the Buthelezi homestead. This moment in my home that’s happening right now fills my heart to the brim, because I know that this is the part of me that will carry me when the Buthelezi part of me cannot carry me any longer. And I’m proud of that. I’m standing on the greatest of shoulders. I come from the greatest of families. No matter where I go in life, there will never be a place like home… haSeete! 

…

We went to bed quite late yesterday, and today is my day. The rain is pouring out there. But we walked through it to the rondavel that we have in here. I’m in here with my mom, my dad, my brother, Khanyisa, their three kids, and Nkosi. Aunt Meh, aunt Fifi and Palesa refused to come in with us. 

My dad is the one explaining to the ancestors what’s about to happen today. Nkosi and I are going to leave to go to the Buthelezi homestead. He’s asking them to not turn their backs on me… to give me light and to always grant me success. Now, my son and I have to walk around in that kraal that was being created yesterday. It is pouring and we are not allowed to have an umbrella with us. Nkosi is used to Tholoana Kingdom rain, so he doesn’t cry. He just hides his face in my neck. 

When we get into the kraal, he has to walk with his own two feet.

As Nkosi and I walk around this kraal, my dad recites our clan names. He and Bane are doing it together. Everyone married to a Seete cannot join in this part of the process. Bane’s sons are actually here with them, getting rained on too. 

Now we head back into the house. Nkosi and I shower to get warm, then we dress up. The singing starts again. 

Are these people hired to sing all the time or something? Are they not tired?

The lobola negotiations start at 5:30am. Khosini is part of this delegation, and I AM NOT HAPPY WITH THIS! 

Apparently, their grandmother insisted on this. But Khanya is outside in his car. He’s sitting there with some cousins. We text each other every now and then. But when I hear ululating, then see walking cows head to this kraal that my dad prepared, I know that I am now his wife. I even count the cows. 

“Ten cows for Nkosi. Fifteen for my princess. And he paid them all in full”, I hear my dad’s voice say.

I turn around and look at him.

“Are you happy for me?” I ask him.

“I am. I’m just sad because my baby girl is so grown up. And nothing could have prepared me to hand you over to another man and hope that he will love, protect and provide for you like I have”, he says.

I hug my dad… my big teddy bear. 

“He’s a good man. I know he will take care of you. I ask that you please take care of him too”, he says.

“I want what you and mom have”, I say.

“It’s had its challenges. It wasn’t always perfect. But there’s no other person I’d ever want to do life with. If that’s how you feel about him, then you’ve found your one in six billion… your one in a lifetime”, he says.

Now I get emotional.

“Make me more grand babies okay… as you can see, I make the hottest grandpa there is”, he says.

I even hear my mom laugh, so I know she’s eavesdropping on us. 

“I love you, papa”, I say.

“I love you too… and I’ll now call you what the Zulus will be calling you: MaSeete. You wear our surname perfectly. Represent us well out there!” He says. 

“Ukai makoti? We must start with –

“She’s coming!” I hear my mom stop whoever was coming to get me. 

She wants my dad and I to have our moment. 

“Let’s go my baby. The Zulus are waiting for you”, my dad says. 

Nkosi is asleep. It’s the Calpol I gave him after our moments in the rain. 

Khanyisa’s nanny stays with him. 

My dad takes my hand, and we do a whole step to downstairs. 

My mom, aunt Tlali, Aunt Thabi and Aunt Phuthi give me utensils to use at my husband’s home. This is done to show me that I always need to know where to find the tools to do my daily duties as a wife. Aunt Fifi, Aunt Meh and Palesa are the ones explaining what each utensil represents and what I should use it for. The Zulus are excited about each instruction. I hope they know that I’m doing none of this there in the KZN rurals. Please! This process is called ho phahlela. 

Five more cattle, one horse and ten goats are brought in again. I didn’t think my father would do this to Khanya. But it’s being done and Khanya obliged without even complaining to me about it. We call this process bohali. It is Khanya’s way of ensuring that every child I birth will belong to the Buthelezi clan. 

Once all of this is celebrated, two sanna marena blankets are put over me, and it’s time for the Buthelezis to take Nkosi and I to their homestead. I actually cry when I see my family and all that I’ve known wave behind me as Nkosi and I get into the backseat of Khanya’s car. It’s really happening. I’m no longer part of them. I love Khanya. But this part right here has me feeling a bit postpartum-ish. 

I’m glad that in our car, it’s just us three. I need a moment to breathe. Bane will bring my car when they bring my trousseau. 

I’ll see my family at the Zulu wedding in Gauteng, at Mr Nkosinathi’s house.