Welcome to your unlocked bonus episode part 2 and season finale of The Workplace & Its Employees. We are at the end of season 1 and let’s just be real – it’s been real! I want to thank you all so much for being on this journey, welcoming the characters into your creative world and allowing them to frustrate you, make you laugh and occupy your time each evening of the week – giving you well-deserved breaks over the weekends because shame, banedrama la bantu. I have loved every minute of writing and ensuring that you have content to be spoiled with. I do not intend to stop writing because you do not intent to stop reading.

“I’m really sorry about her death. I don’t even know what to say, kodwa I’m sorry it had to happen.” I say to him.

We are lying in a bed of a hotel on a night before our white wedding. We are facing each other. I can see that he is not taking Sindi’s death well. And I understand. They were together for a very long time and they had kids together. I worked in that space for a while, so I know that they had their good times. It wasn’t always so bad between them. 

“Thank you, baby. But I don’t want you to feel as if I don’t love you because I’m moved by her death, you know?” 

I brush his face and peck his lips. 

“I know you love me. You’ve made sure that I remain secure in that. And thank you for doing so.” 

He smiles at me. I smile at him. 

“I was thinking… maybe after the wedding, we don’t have to stay here an extra night. We could perhaps go back to Joburg so that we can attend the funeral.” He says. 

I don’t know how I feel about this. And he can see it. 

“I just – I want to say goodbye. She was a significant part of my life for a very long time, baby. I loved her and we were good together until we weren’t anymore. I think it’s only right that I go and pay my last respect… maybe just also be there for Siya. He has lost a mother and they are burying Sindi next to Mbali.” 

This unsettles me a little bit. We are supposed to be happy about tomorrow. And here we are, making Sindi a thing in our relationship, yet again. 

“We can go back. But I’m not going to the funeral. You can go without me.” I say. 

He looks at me like I’m being petty. 

“I cannot go without you. Please babe. Can we go together?” 

“Mthunzi, I’m letting you go, already. I can’t give you more than that. How are you expecting me to feel when I sit next to you and watch you cry for another woman? You’ve just told me, a night before my wedding, how important she was to you. And baby, I know it’s all in the past, I KNOW. But I’m human, and I’m a woman. I’m never going to be okay with watching you mourn for another woman you once loved. I can’t. I’ll cut my wedding day short so you can go and bury your ex-wife. But I cannot give you more than that.” 

He is silent. I am silent. I face the other way because I can feel myself tearing up. He spoons me and kisses on my neck. 

“I love you. I love only you. You are my wife. That means everything to me. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, kissing on you, smothering you with everything that is in my heart – specially reserved for you. You are my everything, Mrs Msomi. Please, don’t ever forget that.” He says. 

I just take a deep breath and hold on tightly to his arms that are wrapped around me. 

…

I sit and watch the rain fall on the window of the hotel room that my bridesmaids and I are getting ready in. I didn’t see my husband this morning when I woke up. He had already left. Everyone in here is happy and are in a good mood. I cannot stop letting the tears fall from my eyes. My heart feels so heavy and my throat has something very painful stuck in it. I don’t even know if we should go through with today. 

“Delivery for the bride”, I hear some man say at the door. 

Maps gets it for me and brings to me a bunch of roses and a small box. I accept the gift and open the box. It is necklace with a diamond stud right at its centre. It’s beautiful. It really is. There is a note. I read it. 

“I can’t wait to marry you again, Mrs Msomi.” 

I just breathe. 

“What’s going on, Koena?” Maps asks me. 

The other ladies are getting their makeup done and are drinking champagne. 

I shrug my shoulders and just burst into a deep cry. Maps hugs me. The other ladies are now looking at us. I suppose they are worried. 

Maps pulls me to outside of the hotel room. We are on the balcony. The rain is pouring. We are in our silk gowns and she is just hugging me, calming me down really. 

“Keng?” She asks me. 

“I don’t think we should go through with today.” I say. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Maphito, we are not in the right space to do this. He isn’t in a place to do this. He just wants to be back in Joburg to bury his ex-wife. We just not going to do this properly. This is the last way I want to remember my wedding day.” 

“Koena, come on. You cannot call today off. This place is not exactly cheap. There are financial losses at stake here. And you know what babe, maybe this is exactly what you guys need to get back to the place you need to be at as a couple.” 

I shake my head. 

“Hey, we are doing this. Okay? You got Thomas and I to make sure that the two of you leave this place married. We plan to do just that.” She says. 

She pulls her phone out and dials someone. 

“Hey Thomas”. 

…

“We have a problem. The bride doesn’t want to get married today.” 

…

“The groom wants to go back to Joburg and bury his ex-wife.” 

…

“Listen, put the groom on the phone.” 

…

“Sbali, how are you?” 

…

“I’m sorry to hear that you are not great, Sbali. But I need you for something. I’ve never asked you for anything before, so this is the first time I’m asking you for a favour.” 

…

“I know it’s selfish of all of us to expect you to do what is required of a groomtoday when you are going through what you are going through. I’m really sorry for your loss and I’m sorry that what’s happened has happened. I know you need your wife to be there for you, to love you and support you through all of this. And where you are, you possibly don’t understand why Koena is feeling the way that she is. 

But Sbali, my sister is in love with you. Wamuhlantsa! Big time. Her biggest flaw is loving you and sometimes, it makes her want to be selfish in your love for her.” 

The way she says this – true as it is – is so sensual. 

Now she’s laughing. I smile at her. 

“Sbali, marry your wife, abuti waka. You have the rest of your life to be slaying dragons and dealing with life. For now, vrou ya hao needs you. Marry your vrou, sbali saka. Please.” 

She laughs. 

I’m glad this is going well for her. 

“Okay shup, she’s next to me. Hold on.” 

She gives the phone to me. I accept the phone. I take a deep breath. Suddenly, I’m nervous to speak to Mthunzi. 

“Hey” I finally answer. Maps is looking at me. 

“Sthandwa sami.” He says. 

I sob. 

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you feel like this.” He says. 

“I don’t want you to apologise for feeling sad, babe. You are allowed to feel sad. I just… I don’t know how to put into words why I’m so sad.” 

“I think you just need a hug.” 

“I do.” 

We both giggle. 

“And I’ll give you one hell of a hug when I lay my eyes on you and have you in my midst. For now, my love, get ready to marry me one last time. I love you.” 

“I love you too, baby. And I’m still okay with us leaving for Joburg tonight after the wedding”. 

“Thank you, my love. Thank you.” 

We spend another hour getting ready because Maps and I got ready after everyone else. I’m in my princess dress – champagne gold with gold pearled-detail. My hair is tied back into a bun – the bun is added onto with hair extensions. I have a gold headpiece that cutely falls onto my face. My bridesmaids are wearing white dresses and my maid-of-honour is wearing a gold stylish dress. We look amazing. 

The rain is really not giving us a chance. I walk down the aisle to a children’s choir singing “Love Comes Easy”. The groomsmen, including Mfundo, lookravishing. They are dressed in black tuxedos. Thomas is wearing a white tux. My husband is wearing black suit pants and a champagne gold suit jacket. He looks incredible. He is a dish and a half. My dad is walking me down the aisle. I don’t even know when he got here. I just found him waiting for me at the beginning of the aisle. He is even crying. I don’t understand. Does he not want me to do this? Plus, my dad is not the crying type. 

When we reach Mthunzi, my dad shakes his hand and says: “Look after my daughter, Msomi. I’ll forgive you for everything on this planet, but I’ll never forgive you for hurting my child. Take this advice, this moment, and this marriage very seriously.” 

I’m also shocked. I thought my dad liked Mthunzi. Now he’s emotional and spreading threats? 

“I love her, baba. Hurting her would hurt me even more. I’ll do right by her till death do us part.” 

My dad and Mthunzi have a moment. 

Okaaaaay!

We just want the priest to be done with all his preaching and and and… I just want to kiss him and hug him and just be with him. We didn’t even prepare vows. We did this Catholic style. And thank God we did, because in thirty minutes we are done. In thirty minutes we are kissing each other, drinking love out of each other’s souls. We are stopped by people saying “Okay! Woah! Hai bo!” 

We smile at each other and hug. There’s that hug. He’s right, I needed it. 

…

Now that we have established how beautiful my wife is, can we talk about how amazing she looks in her reception dress? It’s white and figure hugging. It has nice details at the top and the necklace I bought for her blends right in with her look. I want to undress her and make love to her. Not go and dance for people out there. But hey… I’m the groom. It’s my day and I get to do the one thing I don’t feel like doing today. Celebrating. Because…. Well…

“Ready to go?” She asks me. I’ve changed too. I look nice. I like this look. 

I kiss her. 

We make our way to the reception. And yes, we do that step thing again as we enter the place. Koena has a degree in groove. These dance moves, hai khona!

We are seated at the table and there is a slideshow playing of people’s messages for us and it’s beautiful. We hold hands as we hear people wish us well and talk about how perfect we are for each other. 

Thomas and Maps do the toast together – and they look like they’ll be sexing after this. 

“They did good. Maps and Tom, they did great.” Mrs Msomi tells me. 

I smile at her. 

“They did. It’s all the sex that they’ve been having.” I say. 

She laughs and shakes her head. 

“Mthunzi and Koena, the two of you are such a beautiful representation and reminder of how beautiful love is. Many of us have come here today to celebrate with you, a love that deserves a novel. But, some of us are here with heavy hearts. Some of us have tried to escape the things that keep our hearts heavy. Even the two of you may be going through things right now. But what we’ve experienced with you and because of you is blessed. This union is blessed.” This is Maps speaking. Then she goes deep Tswana on everyone as she addresses her sister directly. I heard nothing. Zero. Sorry reader. 

Then I catch her saying, “Sbali sam, you are my brother now. I know you are a good man and I know how happy you make my sister. We love you so much and we thank you for your love towards our sister.” 

Tom then steps in and says, “Chief, to you and your Mrs. May God keep you always and keep the fire between the two of you alive. Life will happen. That’s just how it is. But for as long as you have each other and for as long as God blesses you with time to be together, love each other and keep choosing each other.” 

He gets a bit emotional. I know exactly where that came from.

Koena and I raise our glasses and lift them towards our best man and maid-of-honour. 

“Cheers”. Tom. 

“Cheers!” The crowd. 

Then barmen come in with champagne bottles and starlights attached to the bottles. The DJ is playing music and I guess the after party has started.

After Koena has thrown her bouquet, I have to find her garment under her dress. Listen, any excuse to run my kisses up my wife’s thighs is everything to me. I am having so much fun with it and so is the crowd. 

By the time I have to throw it into the crowd, I wanna fuck my wife. But it’s nice. I’m actually having fun. 

There is dancing, partying and drinking. Koena and I are just as happy and jubilant. 

Maps is at the mic again telling everyone that it is almost time for the bride and groom to leave everyone to party. But first, our first dance. 

My wife and I slow dance to Stevie Wonder’s Ribbons In The Sky. 

Everyone is watching us and I’m just so – 

I feel so – 

“I love you”. She says to me. 

I kiss her. This is the rest of my life and I could not have chosen a better partner. I love her. I truly do. She is the rest of my life. 

After our dance, we wave goodbye to everyone and exit the reception. There is a V250 waiting for us already. We take ten minutes to change. Well, I take ten minutes. Koena has to unclip eye lashes and wash her face and and and… thanks to her, we take an hour to leave the hotel room. I take her bags and mine and we make our way to the car. I pack our bags and notice Maps and Tom are also changed and loading their stuff in the car. Koena questions Maps and I ask Tom what’s going on. 

“We coming with you guys. We will attend the funeral with you guys. We want the two of you still married at the end of what might or might not happen.” 

I appreciate this. I nod my head and shake his hand. 

Thingo and Mfundo are already passed out in the car. Thingo is lying on Mfundo’s chest. It is my wish that my boys stay this close forever and after.

Now, roads can lead to Gauteng. 

…

Today, we are here to bury Msomi’s ex-wife. The four of us arrive together in one of Msomi’s cars. There is a tent in the street outside her home. We find four vacant chairs and sit there. Msomi has been holding Koena’s hand since we got out of the car. 

I see the king of Tholoana Kingdom say hi to Maps. They even hug. The king’s wife throws quite the look at Maps. Koena looks at Maps and pulls a bit of a face. Maps shrugs. 

And then? 

“Koena, you look good. Are you well?” The king asks Koena. 

“I’m well, thank you, Mohato. Or do I call you king or?” 

“Mohato is fine, thank you.” The king says as he chuckles. He also notices how beautiful Koena is and he struggles to hide it. No person can look at Msomi’s wife and not see how beautiful she is. I strongly believe that Sindi played herself when she hired someone that beautiful to flaunt in front of her husband. 

“Please meet my husband, Mthunzi. This is a very close friend of ours, Thomas.” Koena introduces Msomi and I to the king. How do Maps and Koena know this guy again? 

We shake all shake hands. The king finally leaves us when he notices that his wife is no longer next to him. He is in shit. 

Koena places her focus on Msomi again. 

“You okay?” I hear Koena ask Msomi. 

He just puts his arm around her and kisses her forehead. He must be okay then. 

Maps has her hand in mine. By the way, I didn’t know she has kids until we drove back with them yesterday. Her eldest daughter is about eight years old and her youngest is Rofhiwa’s age. Oh, how I miss my baby girl. She is good with her girls. It is beautiful to see her in this light. We fetched Rofhiwa from her grandmother and she wants nothing to do with our house now that Msomi’s house is full of kids she can play with. Maps’ eldest has assumed the big sister role and she looks after them extremely well. Thingo feels left out sometimes because it’s just girls and Mfundo can’t exactly always play with him. 

We left all four kids with Mfundo and the domestic worker at Msomi’s house to come here. May God bless their patient souls. Msomi and I have a headache from the screaming and negotiations from this morning. They wanted to swim. We had to leave. We had to negotiate with kids. Imagine!

A young boy comes up to us and hugs Koena. 

“Siya, you’ve grown so much.” I hear Koena say. 

Mthunzi looks at the boy, but does not know how to be. This used to be his son for a long time. Now, they are…

“Hello Mthunzi.” The child says much to Msomi’s and Koena’s shock. 

“Hawu Siya! Where is your respect?” Koena says. 

“It left with him when he kicked my mom and me out.” Siya says. 

Koena and Mthunzi look at each other.

“I just came to say hi to Zelda. You may have kicked my mom out of her marriage and her house and perhaps not reached out to me after making me believe all these years that you cared about me and you loved me. But at least you weren’t my parent and I didn’t grow up thinking that you were. I understand that my mom made mistakes and perhaps she deserved to be punished for them. But what did I ever do to you, Mthunzi?” 

This is getting out of hand now. 

Before anyone can say anything else to him, he is called by some man – whom he calls Uncle Sandile when he responds – and he leaves. 

This funeral is going to be weird. 

The coffin is brought into the tent, indicating that the service is about to start. The family is walking in behind the box. We are all standing to show respect. 

“You can come sit with the family. You were her husband.” The Uncle Sandile says. 

I cannot even put into words what Koena’s reaction is. I just cannot. But someone might just get hurt if this man does not remove himself from us right now. 

“No thanks, I’m fine here with my wife.” Good answer, Msomi. Good answer. 

Sandile seems offended by this. His wife or girlfriend or whoever she is – you can tell they are fucking by just their contact with one another – she pulls him and tells him to keep walking. He does. Koena is pissed off already. She just keeps shaking her head. She feels disrespected and I don’t blame her for that. 

I do also think that this was bound to happen though. Mthunzi was married to Sindi for years. He has relationships with her family still and they are going to make Koena feel uncomfortable. Msomi should have let Koena and Maps stay at the house when they suggested it. I would have come with him here and he would not return back home with an angry wife. 

Maps and Koena are chatting away on WhatsApp. Maps is typing now and I read the conversation over her shoulder. 

“Just keep your cool. I’m here for you. We will put this family in its place if we have to. You are here to support your husband. They must focus on grieving their child and be grateful that we are here to cry with them.” 

A text from Koena comes in almost immediately. 

“When we get to the cemetery, I think I should let Mthunzi go and do the sand thing with the family.”

Koena is really trying. Wow. 

Maps replies. 

“Why? They were not married anymore.” 

Maps is a bitter influence!

Koena: “I just want him to shut this chapter of his life closed, pack the book away on the damn shelf and never open it again. I’m so tired of this Sindi chapter lingering over my marriage. If he needs to fall into the ground with that fucken coffin, so be it. As long as I get my husband back and I don’t ever have to deal with shit again.” 

Are they even allowed to speak like this about a dead person and their funeral at their funeral? 

Maps: “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You are his wife.” 

Koena: “That means nothing to me if he is the way that he has been since he heard about his ex-wife’s passing.” 

Maps looks at her. They look at each other. 

Koena is back to typing. 

Koena: “Tom will go with him to the front with the family. You and I will stay at the back with the masses. Honestly, I’d rather be at home with all those kids than be here dealing with this.” 

Maps: “Okay babe.” 

Koena: “Thanks for being here cuz. You and Tom have been great. We appreciate you.” 

Maps send smiley faces then I see them both put their phones away. 

Women!

Indeed they stayed at the back. Koena whispered to Msomi that he can go with me to be at the front with close family and friends. Mthunzi didn’t fall apart and fall into any grave wholes or anything, but I did hear sniffing when the box went into the ground. There were definitely tears behind those sunglasses. It is Siya’s crying that seems to be paining him too. 

Some woman comes and greets him, hugging him and comfortably comforting him. Listen, this man’s wife is not –

“I’m okay, sisi, thank you.” Mthunzi says. 

Okay. I’m glad he also knows what kind of a wife he has. 

“You look good, Mthunzi.” The lady says. 

Mthunzi nods at her. He is not allowed to be nice to women. We are both aligned on that. 

“You don’t remember me? I’m Sindi’s cousin, Lillian.” She says. 

“It’s good to see you again, Lillian.” Mthunzi says. 

Listen….

Koena and Maps are next to us right now. I don’t know when or how or…

“Are you alright, baby?” Koena says, cuddling herself into Mthunzi’s arms. 

Lillian begins to get it. 

“Who’s your friend?” Maps says to me, pointing her head towards Lillian. 

“Lillian. And I’m not his friend. I’m Mthunzi’s sister-in-law.” 

“Really? Last I checked, we don’t have a sister named Lillian.” Maps says. 

Lillian is quiet. She looks at Maps then at Koena then at Mthunzi, then she leaves us alone. Msomi and I look at each other. Shit almost popped off. 

We go back to the house for… 

I don’t know what. But Mthunzi and I are now chatting to the likes of Shaka Maphumulo and the king of Tholoana Kingdom himself, Mohato Mohale. These are the real tycoons of Tholoana Kingdom and getting into business with them may not be such a bad idea. We are chatting away and I notice Koena talking to some woman. I have no idea where she came from or who she is. But they seem as if they know each other. Also, how do Shaka and Mohato know Sindi? And more intriguingly, how do Maps and Koena know Mohato Mohale? 

…

“Siya tells me that you used to work as a domestic worker for them.” I say. 

She looks at me as if I’m judging her. 

“That’s not why I’m bringing this up. Trust me. I just need answers that I think only you can give me.” 

She gives me a look again. I’m not sure what to make of this look. 

“You worked closely with Sindi. You were in their house. Surely you saw things and you knew things – things that can really help me.” 

“I’m not sure what you are talking about.” She says to me. 

“Look, my husband passed away and even from his grave, apparently his influence had everything to do with Sindi’s death. I know that Siya is my husband’s child. But Sindi’s brother is convinced that there was more going on between George and Sindi.”

“Wait a minute!” She has a bit of a realisation orgasm.

“You we’re married to George Maluleke?” 

“So you knew my husband?”

“Yeah, kodwa – I don’t understand. How is it possible that –” 

She’s thinking. We are getting somewhere here. 

“How did you know George?” 

“First of all, I’m so sorry for your loss.” Shame, she’s really nice. 

“Thank you.” I say. 

“I knew George and Sindi to be business partners, so I did a bit of admin workfor them – first for Sindi’s beauty store franchises then at a later stage, it was for a hotel that they co-owned.” 

“What hotel?”

“It was a hotel. There were rich business tycoons and even government officials that would go there. It was a sophisticated place. But there were also women – young women – who would be paid to entertain these men. I turned a blind eye to a lot of it. But the hotel made a lot of money for a hotel that was kinda only open to people with resources and access. The average person wouldn’t sleep there even if they had the money to.” 

She is not saying what I think she is saying. 

“So their relationship… from your perspective – 

“Why are you doing this? Are you trying to ruin your memory of your husband?” 

“I just want to know what kind of a man I married.” 

“Look, I don’t know anything. I wish I could help you, I really do. But I cannot because I don’t have the information that you want. I’m really sorry.” She says. 

“Baby”, her husband calls her. I don’t know when he placed himself next to me. 

“Hey.”

“You ready to go?” 

“Sure.” 

…

The house is empty now and I bring in the last dishes that were left on chairs outside. I bump into Sandile in the kitchen. He is still angry. I’m not sure at what, but he has been this way since this morning. 

“Sandile, can we talk? Please.” 

“About?” 

“Everything.” 

He gives me an enquiring look. 

“Am I going to need alcohol for this conversation?” 

I shrug my shoulders. 

He gives me a bottle of wine and a wine glass while he grabs three beer bottles.

“Let’s go talk in the car. It sounds serious.” He says. 

We go to my car because my car is bigger than his. He sits on the driver’s seat and I sit on the passenger seat. I don’t know why, it just happens. 

He opens his first beer bottle and I pour myself a glass of dry white wine. I take a sip. 

“I need to understand the relationship between your sister and my husband. It’s important. You want to know why your sister died and I want to find out who my husband was. I think we can use segments of information that if we put together, we can discover the truth.” 

He looks at me. 

“Is it that important to you? I’m prepared to let it go.” 

“I can’t. I have to raise Siya. He will always be a constant reminder to me of a part of my life that I consider empty. I need to fill in the gaps.” 

He sighs. 

“Please.” I beg. 

“Sindiswa and I lost our father when we were young. My mom didn’t have many options. She worked, but she couldn’t provide for us the way that our father did. Our house was too small. The three of us had to make do. Sindiswa was definitely the brave sibling between the two of us. I don’t know how she did it, but she always hustled good for us – everyday. She was the breadwinner that we needed and my mom and I never bothered to question her about how that was even possible. And that’s where the problem started.” 

I look at him because I want to know more. I am probably taking him back to a very dark place in his life, but we all need this catharsis. 

“Sindi met a man, Mthunzi Msomi. She got pregnant two months into knowing him, they got married. He was starting out in his career. He wasn’t poor, but his money was enough to take care of his wife and child. My mom and I were losing a person who knew how to feed us and we obviously were not going to NOT fight for our own survival. So Sindi left to live with her husband and hadher child, but we had a bad relationship with the husband because he didn’t care about us and he didn’t give a shit about who Sindi was to us. After some time, I started hating my sister as well. I felt like she abandoned us.” 

He is getting emotional now. I’m on my second glass of wine. He is opening his second bottle of beer. 

“One day, Sindi told us that she opened a business. She used the money that she made from that business to secretly take care of my mother and me. She extended the house to what you see today and paid for my kids to attend good schools. I guess I should have known by then that there were strains in her marriage. She got pregnant and Siya came. But she had far much more money that what an average beautician walks around with. But again, we didn’t ask questions. I think we were also comforted by the fact that she is married to a guy who was successfully climbing up the corporate ladder. Until she got a divorce. She came with Siya and announced that Siya was not Mthunzi’s child. Sindi was not one to explain herself so no one questioned her. I was just angry at her because she left me behind. She left her son here and told us that she would still take care of us, but she needed to live alone.”

He steps out of the car to pee. But I actually think that he just needs to breathe. I sip my wine and wait patiently for him. 

He comes back in and he continues his story. 

“Then one day she came home and knocked on my door. She was beaten up badly. She told me there was no time to address her bruises. George did that to her and if we didn’t leave, he’d kill her and Siya. But we didn’t have enough money to just leave and start over so we broke into the hotel they co-owned, took what we could to survive and we ran. Sindi didn’t go into detail about a lot of things. But what she did tell me is that George paid her to have sex with powerful men so he could seal business deals. At times, he would have sex with her too. These men were powerful and untouchable, so going to the police to get help was out of the question. At George’s funeral, she was threatened by more than five men that she was brave to have revealed herself to you and she would pay for it. On our way back, we got into an accident. We were told that we were all getting help because we were all quite injured. We were told, for a week, that Sindi was in ICU. The next thing we know, she is dead in KZN and her car was found there. How does that sound to you?” 

I feel so cold all of a sudden. I’m shivering. What the hell am I hearing? 

“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you all this.” I think he can see the trauma on my face. 

“Where’s your sister’s car now?” I ask.

“I checked with her tracker. The last time it was spotted with its tracker on was in KZN at some panel beating warehouse.” He says. 

“You want to take a trip there? See what we find? We might find out where the car was picked up and if there is a police report around it. Just something… anything…” 

He starts the engine of my car right there and then and I put on my safety belt. 

…

Gcina has gone away with friends. Both Nobantu and I did not believe her when she told us that until we saw the friends arrive to meet up here. They hired an H1 to drive them around. Nobantu double-checked with hotels and everything that indeed, that’s where they were going. 

Nobantu has been doing well with managing my legal businesses afloat. She is good at this CEO thing. She drives a tight ship. I appreciate her. I’m also sick of this G63 she drives that her ex-husband bought for her, so I’ve decided to gift her with a new car. I bought my beautiful wife a Lamborghini SUV – the Lamborghini Urus. 

It has just parked outside and I have taken the keys and signed for it. She is in the shower, getting ready for a day at work. The car has balloons and flowers on it. Gcina and I chose it together, so Gcina has asked me to FaceTime her when Nobantu goes to see it. 

Nobantu comes out of the bedroom semi-dressed. 

“Are you okay?” She asks me. 

“I’m waiting for you.” I say. 

“To do what? I’m already running late and I have back to back meetings today.” She says. 

“Okay. So finish up so we can get going.” 

“Are we driving together today or…?” 

“Just want to kiss you properly before you leave.” 

She smiles at me. 

“Does your penis not get tired of sliding in and out of me? We are getting too old to still be rabbits right now.” She says. 

We both laugh aloud. 

“Give me five minutes.” She says. 

I start dialling Gcina on FaceTime. 

“Hey dad.” 

“Hey.” 

“Where is Nobantu?” 

“She is here. She is almost done dressing up.” 

Nobantu walks out of the room with her bags. 

“I really have to run, babe.” She says. 

I get up and walk with her to the door. She turns around to kiss me goodbye, and as she opens the door….

Gosh, there is already an audience. 

She freezes. The number plates read “Pearl ZN”. She would have killed me if I wrote Nobantu. 

She looks at me. Tears are already streaming down her face. 

“This is my car?” She asks me in so much disbelief. 

I nod my head. 

She throws her arms around my neck and just cries.

“Thank you”, she finally says to me. 

I’m at work now knowing that my wife is no longer driving a car another man bought for her. She even let me trade it in. I just sold it and made some good money off it. 

“Boss”, an employee says as he stands at the door of my office. I give him my attention.

“We might have a problem.” He says. He’s a deacon, so when he comes up here to tell me we have a problem, it may be related to the church. 

I follow him downstairs and he puts me in front of some man and woman. 

“This is the owner of the shop.” My employee says.

“My sister’s car – we want to know where it is.” The man says. 

“Excuse me?” I ask. 

“The tracker shows that this is where the tracker was taken out. What did you do with the car?” The man again. 

“Who’s your sister and what’s her car? We have a lot of cars that we work with here.” I say. 

“My sister is Sindiswa Msomi. The car she was driving in and that I believe you have is a Toyota Fortuner.” He says. 

This is not good. And that car – I don’t even know where it is. 

“I can’t help you, sir. Sorry. We are a panel beating business. People throw trackers here all the time. I’m sorry. I don’t know your sister and I don’t have a Fortuner here.” I say. 

“Are you sure about that?” He asks me. 

“Very sure.” I say. 

“I’m George’s wife. I have to raise Sindi’s child after he has lost both parents. All we asking for is some closure.” 

“And what makes you think you will find that closure here?” 

What does she know?

“Did you know my husband?” 

“No. I don’t know a George”. I lie. 

She nods her head. 

“I can see that you do and this is not the last you are seeing of me.” 

I look at my deacon. I nod at him. He knows what to do. He goes outside and I have faith that he is tagging the car as expected. The church may need to do the rest if their next stop is not wherever the fuck they come from. 

The car is officially tagged. 

…

She has not cried one bit. She didn’t even want to go back home. Mfundo and I had to beg her to go back home and assist with funeral details. I know that my wife had a rather challenging relationship with her sister, but Keba is dead now. Her body was left outside of a church and when the body was found, dogs were feasting on it. Koena’s mother can barely speak. Maps is the one who called and told me everything. According to her, Koena’s mother cannot stop crying and the father looks like he could die of a broken any minute. Keba was not the kind of daughter anyone wishes to have – but she was their daughter. I know what it’s like to bury your own child and it’s a pain I would never wish on anyone. 

Koena is just silent. She doesn’t talk. She doesn’t cry. I think she’s hurting. I also think it hurts her that she’s hurting. We have just discovered that Maps organised for Mohavi to die and Koena did not take that lightly. Maybe she feels as if she is betraying Mohavi by being hurt by Keba’s death. But even so, we need to go to Mafikeng and bury Keba. We already know that Koena and I will have to cover the costs and nothing will move until we get there. Koena has no plans to give Keba a dignified send-off, but can we at least show up for her parents and leave them to just mourn their daughter and not worry about anything else? 

It is 5am when we arrive in Mafikeng. My brothers and their wives are already here. I am so grateful for their support. They all hug Koena and wish her their condolences, but Koena is so cold and she looks like she wants to slap them. She just goes into the house and I am left to unpack the car. We usually sleep in Mfundo’s outside flat when we are here, then Mfundo sleeps in Koena’s old room inside the house. He never complains. This is home for him. He even speaks of Tswana when he is here – better Tswana than I can hear. 

I see Keba’s baby-daddy walk into the yard with Keba’s two kids. The boy seems more distraught than the girl. The girl is still a bit sad though. I wonder who Keba pissed off and I wonder how she really passed away. 

I spot my mother in the kitchen, taking over and calling shots. My sisters are right next to her participating like her deputies. When did my family even get here? I am very glad that they are here, don’t get me wrong. But they are already giving me a headache and I’m not even the one being shouted at and bossed around. 

“Timer”, Mfundo says to me as I am standing outside the yard with my brothers. 

“Sho. Ugrand?” I ask him. 

“Ja. I am just worried about mah.” He says. 

I pull him aside and we start taking a walking together. 

“Was her relationship with Aunt Keba always weird?” Mfundo asks me. 

“She never spoke about Keba. I just knew that Keba was in prison. Then we found out that Keba had something to do with Mohavi’s death.” I tell him.

“Yho, is that why mom spent most of the afternoon at Mohavi’s grave this afternoon?” He says. I didn’t even know that. 

I am just quiet. 

“She needs to let it out, baba. You need to do something. Tomorrow is the funeral and if she doesn’t allow herself to truly mourn her sister, she might never be able to be at peace with herself.” He says. 

I nod my head. 

“I am going to drive gogo and mkhulu to a twenty-four hour medical centre. They’ve been crying and haven’t eaten since we got here. At this rate, they might not make it for the actual funeral.” He says.

“You are such a good man. You have seriously grown into something and a man I am truly proud of.” I tell him. 

“You taught me well, baba. I want to be the husband that you are to mah.” He says. 

I truly am moved. 

…

We are at Mohavi’s grave. The tombstone is beautiful. It is the morning of Keba’s funeral and I figured that if I came here to clean Mohavi’s tombstone with my mother, we’d be able to break what needs to break inside of her so she could bury her sister. 

She starts washing the tombstone and I use a spade to remove growing grass around the tombstone. When we are done, she sits on top of the tombstone and she starts crying. I sit next to her and hold her hand. 

“I’m so happy that she’s dead”. Koena says. 

I am shocked, but at least she’s talking. 

“She killed my child and now I am paying all this money for her funeral? For all I care, we can dig her a hole in some field and leave her there.” She says. 

“Baby, you can’t say things like that. This was your sister and you don’t want to spend the rest of your life feeling bad that you never mourned her properly. You also need to forgive her so you can let all of this go.” I tell her. 

“She killed my child. Mohavi could still be alive. He would be living with us and I would have had a fair chance at raising my son. She took that away from me. She robbed me off my son! He was a child, Mthunzi. A child!” Koena is extremely upset. 

“Mohavi loved you, sithandwa sami. And he would want you to forgive and move on with your life, celebrating the bit of time that you did have with him. Keba was who she was. But she’s gone now. Don’t allow her to consume more of your life and happiness any more than she already has.” I say. 

She just takes a deep breath. 

The services has started and Koena is still bathing Thingo and wearing a tracksuit. Her parents are not taking Keba’s death well and they need their surviving daughter to be a little more touched by their first born’s death. 

“Hey”, Maps says. She beat to it. I stand at the door and listen to their conversation. I am hoping that Maps will at least get through to her. 

“Heya”, Koena says. 

“Are you coming to the service and burial?” Maps. 

“Nope”, Koena says. I really don’t know how to go about this issue. 

“Okay. I’ll chill with you then.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I want to. I didn’t like Keba much neither”. 

What is wrong with this family? Maps does have thug tendencies that make me worry about her spending too much time with Koena. 

“But your mom needs you, K. Not even her man can catch her if she falls. He is falling apart too. They just lost a child.” Maps says – okay, a bit of humanity kicking in. 

“That’s not my problem. And I wish people would just leave me alone and not expect me to do anything for Kebaabetswe. I am already paying for all of this! I am paying for that funeral to be more dignified than she could ever be. I have done more than enough.” Koena is getting upset again. 

“Okay! I’m not here to upset you. We can chill and just let this day pass us by.” Maps. 

“Ey wena Koena! You mother needs you out there and wena – 

It’s Dikeledi’s mother and she has come here to get Koena in that tent come hell or high water.

“You are not even dressed!” she yells.

Koena pulls Thingo out of the bath tub and cradles him to the bedroom. I follow her to the bedroom. The singing outside tells us that the service has started and people have also started saying nice things about the person that Keba was. 

I close the bedroom door and throw myself on the bed as Koena lotions Thingo. 

“Mthunzi, I’m not attending the funeral.” She says. 

I know. I’m not here to make you attend the funeral. I’m just here to sit with you and our son. 

“Where’s Mfundo?” she asks me. 

“She’s with your parents and Keba’s kids. He felt that he needed to be there for them even though Keba didn’t like him.” 

She throws me a look! What did I say?

“Koena!” Koena’s mother says on the other side of the door. 

“Mme?” Koena. 

“Please come and attend your sister’s funeral. I’m begging you.” The mother. 

Koena does not respond.

“Koena, I know that the two of you didn’t always get along. But she was your sister. You need to be out there to say goodbye to her so you can also be at peace.” 

No response. 

“Koena –

“Koena! We are not going to beg you. We are instructing you to go out there and stop embarrassing us.” Dikeledi’s mother yells as she barges into the room. 

“Why are you so spoiled and so selfish? You think everything revolves around you? Keba is dead and instead of her mother burying you, she is here begging you to just think about someone else and not yourself! Koena – 

“Can we go home, babe? Please?” Koena asks me. 

The shock on everyone’s face! There’s an entire audience now and they are all so shocked. 

“Koena!” Dikeledi’s mother. 

“Keng?!” Koena yells back. 

Maps has just run inside the room and is standing next to Koena. I am dressing my child up now. 

“I am not going to bury Kebaabetswe! She killed my child! She killed Mohavi! I have proof that she did it. I for one am very glad that she’s dead. Keba got what she deserved and if I knew who did this, I’d buy them a thank you gift. I have spent money on this funeral – more than she ever deserved! I am not giving her anything more! Now stop annoying me! I’d rather be out somewhere celebrating.” Koena says and pushes people out of her way as she leaves the room. 

Maps is at a loss for words, biting her bottom lip. I have Thingo in my arms extremely uncomfortable and unsure what to do. Koena’s mother looks so hurt. If my kids grew up to loathe each other like this, I wouldn’t survive it. Dikeledi’s mother is busy clapping her hands and telling everyone who will listen how disrespectful Koena is. 

People come back from the graveyard and we all still have no idea where Koena is. I keep trying to phone her, but I cannot reach her. Maps is also trying. Mfundo has left on foot to go look for her. 

“Should we try Mohavi’s tombstone?” Maps asks me. 

Why didn’t I think about that? 

Maps and I get into my car and we drive to the graveyard. 

Indeed, we find her there. She is on the tombstone, crying and drinking wine from the bottle. Maps and I look at each other. I walk to her. I put my hand on her shoulder. She breaks down. 

“I want my son back!” she yells. 

“And I don’t want people making me feel bad for not being sad that Keba is gone.” She yells through her cries. 

Maps nods her head. 

Koena cries for a good thirty minutes. Then when she is done, she looks at me and says, “I want to go home. I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

“Okay, my love. Okay. Let’s go home.” 

We drive into the yard and find an ambulance inside. There is commotion. 

Mfundo runs to us with Thingo on his shoulders. 

“What’s going on?” I ask him. He also seems extremely stressed.

“Mkhulu collapsed. He just – 

“Time of death, nineteen thirty-five.” Someone says. 

I look at Koena. Her eyes tell me that she is completely defeated. Her mother’s scream puts everyone else in an emotional coma.

Maboko

My rings are lying on my dressing table. My tux is neat and carefully clothed on my body. My entire home is filled with people who are happy for me. This entire country has bought data to stream my wedding to my fiancé. And I, Maboko Seete, cannot put my phone down because of this advertisement before me. Teboho Tlou – the one that I should be marrying instead – has come back to Tholoana Kingdom. Shit happened and we broke up six years ago. That’s what happens when you meet the love of your life at the age of eighteen. That’s how old I was when I first laid my eyes on my Tebza. I was in matric and she was in grade eight. I had never seen her around. We had never hung out in the same circles. She looked so out of place. 

The private school that I attended was populated by people who came from wealthy families. The school fees at that school were deliberately designed to exclude people who did not belong in the wing of the wealthy class. Then it would take two students on scholarships each year – and they would make those students jump through hoops to get in. When those students got in, we could just see them. They bought their uniform at the second hand uniform store and they just looked like – I don’t know – their scholarship, I suppose.

Teboho was one of the scholarships. But in her second-hand uniform and her small straight back cornrows plaited with her natural hair, she was the most delicate pearl that my eyes had ever laid on. I have never been able to shake her out of my system since.

My groomsmen pour into my room while I stare at this picture, becoming familiar with everything that I was feeling the day that I first met Tebza. I turn my phone down and put it on the bed. It is not a good look to be looking at my ex’s picture on my wedding day.

My boys are drinking beer and have brought me a bottle of beer. Zakes is cracking jokes like he always does and Kabelo and I are in stitches. Kabelo heads straight to my cellphone and picks it up. He looks at the picture and shakes his head, looking at me like I have committed a crime.

“Looking at Teboho’s pictures moments before you walk down the aisle?” Kabelo.

“I didn’t even know that she was back.” I truthfully answer him. I am a bit taken aback here. This was sprung on me too on the day of my wedding.

“Was it important for you to know?” Why would Kabelo even ask me that? This is Tebza that we are talking about.

The Mohale twins walk in. We’ve been friends since high school. They are happy and in a jolly mood. They also seem very – I don’t know – drunk!

“Tebza is back and she’s looking hot. Why are you marrying Linda?” That can only be Ona.

“That’s rude. Why the fuck would you say that?” Kabelo reprimands Ona.

“Hai wena, scholarship! Plus we all know that you’ve always loved Linda. You’ve always had dreams of marrying your way out of that scholarship.”

Kabelo charges towards Ona, ready to punch him. Zakes pulls Kabelo back. Ona is laughing at him.

“Come on, man. Behave yourself”, Khotso tells his brother.

“I need to see Tebza”, I tell Zakes.

All eyes are on me now. Ona is still laughing. He says, “Now, this is the shit that they should be filming.”

“Zakes, can you drive me to her parents’ house?” Me.

“Why me? Kabelo is your best man. Aowa monna, don’t involve me in such things.” Zakes tells me.

“Please man, I need to see her. Please.” I beg.

“Just before your wedding?” Kabelo.

“Zakes, either you take me there or I drive myself there. But, I am going to see Tebza.”

Maybe this is how I should have started the conversation. I have never seen anyone grab car keys faster than this.