Sindi

While I appreciate that Zelda has lost her son – believe me, I appreciate this more than you know –I really need her here. I am hosting an event for Georgeand nothing can go wrong. Sonto and Puseletso know nothing outside of cleaning, washing and ironing. My assistant and my team tried their best, but events are a specialized industry. You need to have a knack for it and no one in my team has showed me that they have Zelda’s knack for events. 

I’m irritated because she is ignoring my calls and messages. I get that she is in the process of burying her child – I didn’t even know she had a child by the way. She’s probably married too and I have no idea. It’s not my business to know these things anyway. She’s an employee nje in my life and that’s that. 

Anyway, I get that she is burying her son, but can she not take five minutes out of her day to answer some questions or make referrals? Surely business cannot stop just because an employee has a bereavement? 

My HR manager tells me that I need to hire another events person so I work with two people. If one is not available, the other one is available for me. Now I must spend more money because Zelda’s child passed away? No thanks. Besides, this is one incident. I’m quite sure that now that her son has passed away, she will take less leave. I’m sorted with Zelda. But first, to get through today’s event. 

“Mommy”, I hear Siya call me and sobbing. 

I look behind me and I see Mbali standing next to him. Oh Lord, my kids are seriously being emotional on me on such an important day? I need Zelda. This is her department. When mommy is busy, Zelda looks after their feelings. 

“Yes Siya?” I try to be accommodative of the moment. 
“Zelda is burying her son today. We asked dad if we could go, but he told us that he is away for work. Will you please take us? Zelda is like our second mom and she must be feeling very sad and lonely right now”, Siya says. 

Are these kids kidding me? 
No, this is a joke! It has to be a joke. I must abandon a George Maluleke event to drive to Mafikeng because my kids are emotional about Zelda’s bereavement? This is a joke. 

“Mama, she’s there for us all the time”, Mbali says. 
“Because it’s her job”, I remind her. 
“Mom, awube nobuntu tu. She has lost a child. Her only child. How would you feel if you had lost me or Siya?” Mbali says. 
“Don’t you dare guilt trip me about this. I’m not the one who put in a call with God to take this child from God’s green earth. Do not make this a Sindiswa problem, please.” Who does Mbali think she is? 
“I wish dad were here. He would take us”, Mbali. 
“Me too. But he isn’t here. Now pray for Zelda and leave me alone. I need to work.” I say. 

They seem disappointed. They’ll get over it. Kids need to learn disappointment at a young age so they don’t grow up entitled and traumatized every time things don’t go their way. I’m being raped and abused to keep them happy and rich. They need to learn how to struggle. Struggle is everywhere, even in the rich households. 

“Mbali, can we at least phone Zelda before the funeral starts?” I hear Siya saying. 
“Come, let’s go to my room and phone her. We can use my phone”, Mbali says. 

They make their way to Mbali’s room and I follow them. I stand at the door, eavesdropping on the conversation. I will not lie, I’m very touched that Zelda will answer Mbali’s calls and not mine. Maybe I should have used Mbali’s phone to contact her and ask for her assistance. 

Zelda: “Hey you guys”. 
Siya: “Zelda, we really wanted to come and support you. But when you come back, I’m going to buy you a chocolate”. 
Zelda: “Thank you, Siya. Trust me, I completely understand that you couldn’t be here and I don’t love you guys any less, okay?” 
Mbali: “How are you feeling, Z?” 
Zelda: “I’m hurt, Mbali. But, I’ll make it.” 
Mbali: “We are here for you, Z. We love you”. 
Zelda: “I love you guys too. With all my heart, okay?” 
Siya: “Love you, Zelda, and all the best for today”. 

My kids really do love Zelda. They never speak to me this way. But hey, that’s what I pay her for. 

“Hello!” Pearl yells from my door. 
“Dining area!” I yell back. 
I hear her heels make their way to the living room. 
“Friend”, she says as she walks in and settles on my velvet couch. 
“Hey babe.” Me. 
“How are the preps coming along?” She asks me. 
“I need Zelda. Her son just had to die before this one particular event?” I say. 
“That’s a bit harsh. She just lost a child”, Pearl says. 

I’m so tired of people judging me for feeling the way that I feel. It’s honestly not fair. I’m stressed about my event. 
“This covid thing is getting serious, babe. I’m worried about you and your businesses. Your industries are not exactly the work from home kind of industries. Tom and I were even thinking of asking staff to start working from home. We’ve had fifteen infections already”, she says. 

Oh yes, Covid. My customers and staff really are at risk. Will I even afford to pay my employees without any income coming in? I’d need to sleep with George for that money. 
“I haven’t thought about it yaz“, I admit. 
“Maybe you should let Zelda stay at home for some time with her parents and heal from her son’s death properly. What’s the point of making her come back here only to go back home again when things get out of hand with this covid?” Pearl says. 
Is she out of her mind? Has she completely lost her marbles? 
“Pearl, if covid-19 hits and everyone is expected to stay at home, Zelda is moving in here. She will stay in the cottage. Sonto and Puseletso will share the room in the garage. Covid or not, those three run my life like you’ll never believe. I want them here!” I say. 
“And what has your husband said about that?” Pearl. 
“He is never around for me to discuss this with him. Angisho you and Tom stay sending him away for business.” I remind her. 
“Not as of late. Nobody has travelled for business since our first infection”, she says. 

I stop what I am doing and look at her. 
“Isn’t Mthunzi on a business trip right now?” I ask. 
“Not K-pable-C business my darling. Your husband is on business inside someone’s vagina.” Pearl says. 
This hurts me a little. He even disappointed his children for whatever it is that he is doing. 
“I didn’t think you would mind though. Don’t the two of you have an open relationship?” Pearl says. 
“It’s as open as yours and Tom’s”, I say. This stings her. Good. Who does she think she is? She’s judging my marriage when her husband cannot keep his penis out of anything in a short skirt. At least my husband respects me enough to not do it with women who work for me. 

…

The event was cancelled because of the fast-spread of Covid-19. Three of my employees got the virus. I am working from home today and Mthunzi is back. He just finished showering and his chiselled body is wrapped in a towel. He does not even notice me anymore. 

“You headed to work or your girlfriend?” I initiate the conversation. 
“Excuse me?” Him. 
“Pearl tells me that you guys have not travelled since your first Covid case. I know you were not in wherever you said you were going over the weekend. You were with your side trash”, I say. 
He looks at me, pissed. 
“What the fuck is this about?” He aggressively asks me. 
“I want us to try again… with our marriage. I want us to try and see if we cannot make it work again”, I tell him. 
“Why? You tired of that geyser who treats you like his prostitute? He pays for your cars, your businesses and your vagina, angisho? Now you suddenly remember that you have a husband?” 
His words cut my soul deep. He’s got it all wrong. 
“Mthunzi, I just want us to fix our marriage. I’ve made some mistakes and you’ve made some mistakes. I’m ready to forgive you”, I plead with him. 
“There was a time when I longed to hear that. I was prepared to forget anything ever happened and just forgive you because you are the mother of my kids. Those words came a little too late. You and I are married out of convenience and for our kids. We don’t even have businesses together anymore because your geyser bought me out of the businesses I gave you money to start. As soon as Siya is old enough to understand that not every family has to have a set of married parents, you and I are getting a divorce.” 
My heart shatters at this statement. How could Mthunzi say this to me? 

My phone rings. It is Zelda. 
I sniff a bit then I answer, “Zelda”.
“Hi Mrs Msomi. I wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to come into work today. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to the clinic to test for Covid”, she says. 
“Zelda, you are killing me. I was really looking forward to you coming today. You’ve taken a week and a weekend off”, I tell her. 
“I understand Mrs Msomi, but I’m really not okay”, she says. 
“If you can go to a clinic, surely you can come here”, I say.
The phone cuts us.
As I dial her back, Mthunzi says, “What is wrong with you? She just buried her son and you want her here so soon after that? Give her all the time she needs. Geez”. 

Now I really don’t know what to do. 
…

I make my way downstairs and find Puseletso and Sonto gossiping over tea and magwinya instead of working. I wonder what it is about me that makes these women believe that I am running a ghetto establishment. Where the hell did they even find those magwinyas that they are eating? They smell terrible. 

I walk past them, hoping that they get the message. The message is clear: when I come back here, there better be cleaning equipment in their hands and it better be used in my house. 

I am realizing that the kitchen is far dirtier than what it usually is and there is that terrible oil used to make people sick. Please don’t tell me these women cooked their magwinyas in my house. 

“Sonto, is Zelda back yet?” I hear Mbali asking. 
“No sisi. I don’t know when she will be back”, Sonto says. 
“What’s that smell?” Mbali asks. 
“Magwinya“, Puseletso answers her. 
“Where did you buy magwinya around this neighbourhood?” Mbali. 
“We made them”, Puseletso. 
“Where?” Mbali. 
“Here”, Sonto. 
These heffers! My electricity and kitchen was used for such activity?
“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t deduct the electricity bill from your salaries?” I walk back in where they are sitting and enquire.
They stare at me. Blank stares. 
“So I should deduct from your pay?” I ask them. 
“No Mrs Msomi”, Sonto says. 
Mthunzi comes down the stairs looking very handsome. 
“I’m going to work”, he says. 
“You not having breakfast?” Mbali asks him. 
“Nah, I’ll grab something on the way, baby girl”, he says. 
“I know what you mean. It’s not the same without Zelda”, Mbali says.

Mthunzi does not say anything. What is Mbali expecting him to say really? Mbali puts Zelda on a pedestal. 
“We’ve made magwinya, Mr Msomi”, Sonto says. 
“Sonto, not all of us are trying to die from cholesterol and heart attacks. Don’t make that nonsense for my family and you stop using my house, pots and electricity for that rubbish. Uyezwa?” I say. 
Mthunzi just grabs an apple and leaves the house. He has an overnight bag with him. 

After about an hour, I text him. 
“Please come back home tonight. I was hoping we would continue our conversation from this morning regarding fixing our marriage.” 
He does not reply. 

I am in and out of meetings most of the day. The Covid-19 issue is creeping in rapidly and I am being forced to close more of my shops. 
An announcement is made that the president will be addressing the nation tonight. I should perhaps ask Mthunzi if he has any idea what he will be saying. His job keeps him quite close to the government and regulatory affairs.

I dial his number. 
“Sindi” he answers my call. 

He sounds disinterested in talking to me. He always says that he still takes my calls because I am the mother of his children and he never knows when I will be calling with an emergency regarding our kids. Did I really sabotage my marriage like this? I guess I shouldn’t be nice neither. I’ll just get straight to the point. I’ve put myself out there enough. I don’t need him thinking I’m desperate and begging him to come back to me emotionally. 
“I just saw an announcement that the president is addressing the nation tonight. Any idea what he will be announcing as a means of dealing with this rapidspread of Covid-19?” I ask him. 
“Ja, he is going to put the country under a lockdown so businesses need to prepare to either work from home or shutdown”, he says.
I feel a slight panic in my heart. 
“What kinds of businesses?” I ask him in panic. 
“Businesses that are not essential”, he says. 
“Mthunzi, how will I make money then?” I ask. 
“I guess it’s a choice between making money and being responsible with people’s lives”, he says. 
I am truly panicking. 
“We also need to make a decision about what we are going to do with Zelda, Sonto and Puseletso. It will be difficult for them to travel to work everyday without a permit. They either have to move in with us, be laid off for the duration of the lockdown or we will have to make trips to fetch them every morning then take them home in the afternoon.” He says. 
“Yho Mthunzi!” I say. That’s all I can say. 
“Think about it. I’ll phone you after the president’s address and make a decision”, he says.
“You not coming home?” I ask him. 
“No, I’m not”, he says.
“I want my husband back, Mthunzi. You tell your whore that I want my husband back”, I say. 
“You lost your husband the day that he lost you to money and a man who turned you into a prostitute. You have no right to be going around saying that shit”, he says.
“What is it going to take to fix us? To fix our marriage?” I ask him. 
“Nothing. I am done with this marriage. Now stop behaving like there’s actually something to fight for”, he says then hangs up.