From me to you! Welcome to The Workplace & Its Employees’ Surprise Episode – Unravelling that day!

Kearabetsoe Mohale

“You didn’t think we’d leave you here, did you?” I say as she opens the hotel door.

“I’m sorry… have we met?” She asks me. 

“Oh, where are my manners? I’m Kea Mohale. I’m Mohato’s wife.” 

“Mohato the king? So you are the queen? It’s a pleasure to meet you royal highness. Come in.” 

We both laugh and I walk into her hotel penthouse. She is actually funny and beautiful. 

“When Qaphela told me that you are here with him, I thought let me come by and meet the infamous Nobantu kaQaphela and perhaps take you out for drinks”, I say. 

“I’ll agree to drinks if you call me Pearl. Please.” She says. 

“Why? I like Nobantu. It’s such a beautiful name – so powerful.” 

“I just like Pearl better. Personal reasons.” She says. 

“Okay. Well, Pearl it is.” 

“I’ll get ready. Give me a second.” 

After about twenty minutes, she walks out dressed in a navy blue cocktail dress. I like her. She gets the hint very quickly. Now to get her to a salon to get her hair done. I know I was only given this exercise to get me out the house so Mohato can be a criminal. But I’m excited to be part of Qaphela’s plan to propose to his love. Their story is so beautiful. In a strange way, it reminds me of what Reahile and I had – something that was meant to be. 

“Do you like having him back?” I ask her as we get driven to the hotel where we will be getting ready for tonight.

“How do you know Qaphela again?” She asks me. I guess it’s a fair question.

“He does business with my husband.” I say. 

She raises her eyebrow at me.

“Yes, that business.” I say.

She nods her head. 

“I lost a piece of my spirit when he got taken away. That day…” She pauses. She faces downwards. 

There is something about the way she says that that takes me back to the day Reahile’s spirit left his body while his hand was holding on to my hand. 

Will I ever forget? 

“But he’s back now and to answer your question, I couldn’t be happier to have him back.” She says, pulling herself together. 

“Do you ever blame him for being taken away? Like, if he had just listened to you, your lives would be different and you’d have had more time together?” I ask her. 

She looks at me. She seems to want to ask me if I’m okay.

“Sorry.” I say. 

She holds my hand.

“We have a few glasses of cocktails and maybe shots to get through to have this conversation.” She says. 

We both chuckle. 

“Has Mohato ever been to prison too?” 

“I wish”, I find myself mumbling. She gives me a puzzled yet suspicious look. 

I’m saved by the car coming to a stop. We have arrived.

Thandeka Buthelezi

“Mzala! Hey!” I haven’t seen my cousin, Mthunzi, in the longest time. Now he’s divorced and re-married… man, I’m so glad that his wife organized this braai afternoon for us to catch up. I brought Nathi and my three kids with me – Khanya, Khosini and Sinqobile. 

“You look good. Welcome to my home”, he says as he hugs me. 

I spot his wife in the kitchen with a baby on her hip. That must be Thingo. 

“Let me say hi to Koena.” I say and leave Mthunzi and Nathi to greet each other and chat. 

“Hey gorgeous”, Koena says to me before I can even say hi to her. Such a sweetie pie. 

“You are gorgeous. Look at you!” 

“Pole fitness darling”. 

“Mthunzi told me it’s stripping classes.” 

“Mthunzi needs to just stop it!” 

We laugh. 

“MaLetsoalo, how are you?” Nathi greets her. 

“I’m well. It’s good see you, Nathi.” Koena says. 

“And thanks for organizing this. It’s nice to catch up.” I say. 

“I’ve invited Thomas and Lydia. They should be here any time from now.” Mthunzi says. 

“You are still friends with Thomas?” I ask him. 

Nathi’s face changes. Mthunzi looks at me as if asking me if I really wanted to ask that question. 

“I can un-invite him.” Mthunzi says. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. We are all adults.” I say. Nathi can’t still be upset about that situation. I chose him. 

Koena and I are now alone in the kitchen finishing up the salads and preparing the garlic bread. She baked it from scratch. Then men are braaing meat outside and the kids are in Thingo’s playroom, playing. Thankfully, the playroom is in our view and we can see everything from where we are. Mfundo is also outside with the men. 

“Are things better with Nathi now?” She asks me. 

“We are in a good place. Patience’s death has honestly given me quite a break. Then Phuthi’s stunt traumatized my kids. Khanya asks questions about that day that Phuthi set herself and Wandi alight. We got him to see a psychologist because I don’t want my son growing up messed up because of his father’s whores.” I say. 

“I’m sorry, T. But at least you guys are fixing things you know.”

“I feel guilty about Wandi. She’d still be here if I took her in and raised her.” 

“She molested your son. You protected him. That doesn’t make you a bad person, T. I would never live with anyone who did what Wandisa did to Thingo or Mfundo.” 

“Although Mfundo would like it!” 

We laugh extremely loud at this. 

“Kumnandi mos la! What are we laughing at?” Some lady walks in and says. 

“Lydia darling! Welcome.” Koena. 

Lydia walks in and puts a lot of alcohol on the kitchen island. 

“Hey pretty lady. I’m Lydia.” Lydia says to me, extending her one hand. 

“Thandeka.” I say, going in for a hug. 

“HEY!” Thomas walks in carrying a toddler.

“Heya!” 

The kitchen is super festive and loud. The little one in Thomas’ arms is forcing herself out of his arms, staring at the kids playing in the playroom. The kid is strong. 

“T, it’s good to see you again.” Tom says to me. 

“It’s good to see you too, Thomas.” I say. 

I want to ask and he can see that I want to ask. But I’m with Nathi and- 

“How do you two know each other?” Lydia asks. 

We all look at her. We don’t say anything because…

“I used to be with his cousin”, I say.

Everyone stares at me. 

“He misses you, you know.” Thomas says. 

I don’t reply.

“I don’t blame you girl. North men are yummy!” Lydia continues. 

“Chief, we are outside.” We hear Mthunzi say. Nathi is right next to him. They are staring at us. They clearly heard. 

“Daddy! Let me go! I’m going to play!” The kid manages to mumble out of her baby-talk language. 

We all look at her. Thomas puts her down. She sprints to the kids and there is mayhem. 

Kenosi Maphumulo

This bachelorette party that we are having is a lot of fun. I joined Kea and Pearl a bit late because I had to do stuff with the kids until Sis’Nora arrived to look after them. I found Kea and Pearl already tipsy. How is Qaphela going to propose to a drunk Pearl? Would her yes be considered to be consent? 

The male strippers come out and we are throwing money at them and taking shots off their bodies. We have never had so much before… 

Then a gun shot goes off! 

WTF? 

The screaming in the club is scary. 

“Get the fuck off my wife!” Only the church would pull a trigger in a harmless strip club. We not sleeping with these men – they are just dancing for us. 

“Seriously?” Pearl. Yes, she will solve Qaphela on behalf of all of us. She’s still being begged to be a wife. Kea and I are wifed, Mohato and Shaka are done begging Kea and I.

“Nobantu, what rubbish is this?” Okay, Qaphela is just as pissed off as Shaka and Mohato. 

“You’ve never heard of strippers before?” I admire Pearl’s resilience chile!

“Nobantu, siyahamba!” Qaphela is losing his shit now.

“All of us!” Mohato. 

“And you! Do you have a death wish? Do you know whose wives you were doing that shit on?” Shaka says to the shit-scared male strippers. They are just shaking. 

“Shaka-

“Kenosi, I thought this was just you guys having drinks. Why are naked men dancing all over you? This is having drinks?” Shaka. 

Why are these men behaving as if they don’t know what strippers are? Can we please be respected? They attend these clubs without us. 

“We were just having drunks. We got a little carried away. We apologise.” Kea. 

“You are a Queen, Kearabetsoe. A queen! This is not how you behave.” Mohato. 

“We are sorry.” Kea says. 

We are honestly being treated like naughty little girls right now. Is the proposal still happening? Or is Qaphela too upset to even slide a ring on Pearl’s finger? 

We are dragged out of the club and are put into some black SUV with tinted windows. I’m sure we are all sober by now and quite disappointed that our day has had to end so prematurely. The sun hasn’t even set yet. 

The men climb in a car behind us. The cars start moving. 

“So this is what it’s like to go out partying with a queen?” Pearl says and Kea and I find ourselves laughing. 

Pearl shakes her head. 

“Those poor strippers. They had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide their dangling penises. They were giving a good show. It’s not like we were going to let them smash.” Pearl. 

Kea and I are just laughing. She’s clearly one hell of a woman this one. 

“They probably just had a bad day. Why were they even looking for us?” I enquire. 

“Because Qaphela has to – 

“Oh ja, nevermind.” I stop Kea before she gives away the game plan. 

“Qaphela has to what?” Pearl asks. 

“You know Reahile proposed to me the morning before his death was plotted?” What’s wrong with Kea? She can’t just talk about these things so rough and careless. 

“I had just woken up from a nightmare and he was not in bed. He walked into the bedroom dressed in a suit and he told me that he was going to Tholoana Kingdom to serve Mohato with divorce papers and he wouldn’t come back until Mohato had signed them.” Kea starts sobbing. Pearl and I look at each other then focus our attention on Kea. She’s never told me this before. 

She just cries.

“He told me Mohato would fight and for him to fight for me, he’d need to be my husband.” Kea’s cry becomes tense. 

“We should have never come back for Bontle’s wedding! We should have never come back. We walked straight into the trap of his death. He would still be alive if he just listened to me. I told him not to trust my family! I told him!” 

Pearl is now hugging Kea, soothing her back. I’m holding her hand, but also remaining alert because when we talk about such things, people appear out of nowhere ready to kill you.

“Now my sons are in this church business. Me – Kearabetsoe Mohale – a wife to an entire lawyer – a wife to Reahile Mohale- I birthed criminals?” 

Kea needs to stop it now! She must just stop. This is getting dangerous and I have kids. 

“Pearl, do you love Qaphela?” Kea finally asks Pearl after she has calmed down and while she is wiping her tears. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Do you forgive him for that day… that day that he turned your whole world upside down, leaving your heart ripped into two and leaving with more than half of it with him?” 

Pearl is now getting emotional. I think these two had way too much to drink. 

Pearl nods her head and says, “I do. I have to. I tried to hate him, but I couldn’t.” 

“Then when he asks you to marry him tonight, say yes. Marry him tomorrow if you can. But don’t live one more minute without him. You don’t know if a business deal will go wrong tomorrow and that day happens all over again. Say yes and just marry your man.” So, Kea ruined it all. Pearl is shocked. I want this night to be over. I’m not drunk enough for this.

Thobile Mthethwa

How do I describe my aunt’s kids? Not the friendliest people you will find walking the earth, but they are hard workers. Especially Sindiswa. My aunt told my mom that they are in Mpumalanga now, so mom cornered me into going to see them. Now I’m here with my kids and Mzwakhe for a visit. It feels good to see them again after so long. Sindi disappeared after meeting Mthunzi. But she’s here now, and this feels good.

“Cuz, how are you doing? How are you holding up? I’m so sorry that I didn’t make it to Mbali’s funeral”, I say to her. 

We are sitting here with KG – Sandile’s significant other. 

“It’s cool, Cuz. Your husband was fucking the whole world and its aunts. I understand.” She says. Sindi has always been best friends with violent reactions to non-violent situations – unprovoked. 

I always knew that she and Mthunzi would not last. Mthunzi is too human to be with a woman like Sindi. Sindi wants men that have an element of fiction in them. She wants a criminal that will never get caught. She wants to wake up and find 100k stacked in rand notes next to her side table, but not go through the journey of getting there. Mthunzi is the real guy you’ll meet on your way to a spaza shop. He believes in hard work and merit over taking the easy way out. That’s not Sindi’s type. 

“So, how are you?” I ask my question again, choosing to ignore the violent option she tried to take. 

“I’m fine, Cuz. How else can I be? Mbali is not coming back and my marriage will never be mended. I miss Mthunzi with everything that is me. But he’s moved on and I need to find a way to close this chapter.” She sincerely says. 

That’s one thing Mthunzi did for Sindi- he taught her sincerity. 

“Do you think I’m a bad person, Cuz?” She asks me. 

Before I answer this question, let me explain my relationship with Sindi. I was smart enough for her to like me. My parents were rich enough for her to take me seriously and for her to look up to the house I grew up in and I’m the only cousin she ever wanted to visit because, in her words, she could actually learn something from being around us. All our other cousins never made the cut to be relevant or significant in Sindi’s life. She actually cares about what I think of her, but will never ask me for anything because she can never risk me thinking that I’m better than her. 

“I think you are misunderstood, Sindiswa. Sometimes I even think that you misunderstand yourself”, I tell her. 

“Really?” She says. Yes, she likes listening to people tell her about herself. I think she learns more about herself from perspective than she does actually living her life. 

“I think you are not the full package- no one is. And in the midst of your brokenness, you capitalized on the part of you that you believed would pull you out of a situation you never wanted to be identified with – as we all do. We work our hardest to unbecome what our situations and childhoods forced us to become. And in becoming what we want to be, our flaws define us to those who don’t understand us and our strengths define us to those who believe in us. Sadly, you let that box you into only ever being one thing – the thing that drove your family apart.” 

KG looks at her. Sindi looks like she want to cry.

“Sindi, at what point did you ever go to bed on an empty stomach when you were with Mthunzi?” I ask her. 

“You don’t understand, Thobile. I never went to bed on an empty stomach, but mama and Sandile did. And he didn’t care. But I did.”

“Did you ever tell him that you care?”

“How Thobile? Between his drama with Mfundo and Kholiwe and him being underpaid yet overworked, when exactly was I supposed to blurt out that my family is hungry and he needs to be a man and make a plan?” 

“You didn’t just make a plan, Sindiswa. You slept with men, had umpteen abortions and eventually had a child with someone who was not your husband. How did you think this was going to end? Making a plan is being a shop assistant or a front of desk at a hotel, making honest money ukuthi ubambisane nomuntu wakho. That’s making a plan. Not what you did.” 

“You are judging me.”

“I’m not. I’m making you see that you wanted to get out of poverty so much that what was supposed to be a plan to do so, boxed you into becoming greedy and letting go of anything that kept you human. And what has that done for you in the long run?” 

“Mama and Sandile go to bed on full stomachs.” 

“And you? Do you go to bed with a fulfilled heart? Or that no longer matters to you. You miss Mthunzi, don’t you? The one person on this planet who kept you human.” 

She is quiet. Then she says, “I became what I needed to become because what I was had people taking advantage of me.” 

I nod my head…

Sindi (aged 17) 

I have just come back home after a long day at school. Mrs Hlanyane has given us homework to prepare for the test that we are writing on Monday. It has been a long week. A Friday evening after completing my hours of pushing books and hoping for a better future is what I need right now. Sandile is not back home yet and mama is still at work. Our house is so small. I share a bedroom with mama and Sandile sleeps in the TV room. I cannot wait to get us out of here. But I will enjoy the silence and peace of being alone for a few hours just before mama and Sandile come back. 

I run myself a warm bubble bath in the only bathroom of this one-bedroom that my father rented from George Maluleke before he passed away. The township noise supplies no serene background music at all, but the scented oils and candles surrounding my bathtub should certainly calm the ambiance. 

We live in Diepkloof. I hate this place, but I don’t have options. I look forward to school holidays, so I can go to KZN and visit my rich cousins and aunt. Their house is as big as the house I am one day going to own. No one shares bedrooms and bathrooms and they never run out of food. 

I switch off my phone, lock the door and undress. I leave a trail of my school uniformon my way to the bathroom. After using my hand to check the water’s temperature, I get into bathtub, lie in the water, close my eyes and allow the warm water to fill and heal my body from the tough week that I have had. 

I take in the aroma from the oils and scented candles while listening to the loud screams and laughter of the township children playing on the street. They take me back to the days of my innocence. Those were the days when life seemed so easy. I knew nothing about family politics, poverty and the only thing that hurt me was not being able to buy skopas because mama didn’t have 50cents to give me when I went to play on the streets with other kids. The screams of these children take me back to that point of happiness. Life is so much better when you look at it through a child’s eyes. While the blissful laughter and amusing screams of the kids is everyone’s favourite sound, I look forward to making enough money and moving out of the township. 

Silence takes over as I slide down and allow the water to cover my mouth. 

I open my eyes as the bathroom light flickers. 

Argh! I’m sick of this bridged electricity. I need something better.

An aggressive knock on the kitchen door ends my bath excitement.

“I’m coming,” I shout as I step out of the bathtub. I wrap my body with a towel while I let the water drain from the bathtub. I leave the bathroom and attend the knocker. 

“Who is it?” I ask. 

“It’s me, open up.”

My face becomes sour when I realise Thebe is on the other side of the door. I close my eyes, take a long breath and put on a pretentious smile. I open the door.

“Thebe! What are you doing here?”

“Sindi-baby, hurry up. We leave in a few minutes.” Thebe says. 

“Leave? I thought I was off this weekend.” 

“Do you want this gig or not?” Thebe asks. 

His aggression appals me. Why must I deal with his mess?  

“Sindi-baby, you are the most difficult ‘stock’ of all the girls I hire to entertain thirsty men at my expensive parties,” yells Thebe, undressing me with his eyes. 

I clear my throat, making him look at me. He shakes his head and stands at the door.

“You know these men love you and they put in a specific request for you hence the reason I’m here,” he explains. 

Why am I greedy? Why can’t I let this side hustle go? This money keeps my family fed and it goes a long way in my savings now that I am saving to move my family and I out of this place. I look at Thebe and shake my head. 

“I’m exhausted, Thebe. I need my sleep and I am writing on Monday,” I tell him. 

“The gig… it pays fifty thousand rands,” Thebe says. 

I will not decline such a large sum of money. I smile at Thebe as if he’s carrying the cash in his hands.

“Thebe, give me ten minutes,” I close the door and get dressed. 

…

Thebe caters for black tie events. He supplies women for entertainment and sex – the perfect date for rich men who invest large sums of money in infidelities. Tonight we are at the opening of a new hotel in the West rand owned by tycoons and every notable celebrity has attended. Moguls are a great catch, but I am here for one reason only. Thebe thinks I am here to perform for the fifty thousand rands. No, I am using his event as an opportunity to meet businessmen and find a man who will just bless me and not have me sleeping with every rich man that exists on the face of this planet. 

Thebe expects me to have intercourse and drink with these rich men. I am paid to keep them company when they request while he gets paid to smile, wave and nod. I won’t lie, I’d agree to the gesture in exchange for large sums of payment from business people with great monetary assets. 

“I forgot to tell you… you look ravishing in that long, navy blue gown and silver stilettos, but your neck needs a piece of expensive jewellery to  attract these men,” says Thebe whispering in my ear.

I shrug. “I can’t afford jewellery. I won’t worry myself with things I don’t have,” I reply, looking ahead, fascinated by the soft music and lights. 

“Turn around,” he commands me.

I do as he says and he places a Martine Ali Silver, Cuban Link choker on my neck. We gaze at each other and smile. He nods to signal approval.

“You look perfect for the shark I want you to catch tonight,” he says, looking around in search for that particular businessman.

I mime the words thank you and walk around scouting the businessman who landed an award for businessman of the year last year. This dress is for him. I have always seen him at these events, but never had the opportunity to meet him or speak to him in person. He better be here. 

Entertainment is the best way for me to spruce up my home and give my life some dignity. It will elate me to adorn my father’s house with my hard-earned money. I love nothing about the one-bedroom matchbox that we have to share space in. It’s my dream to have my own room and own bathroom. 

My eyes wander as I sit at the bar, sipping free champagne facing the joyous faces in the crowd. I notice many of Thebe’s girls laughing and entertaining the top executives. Where is the fish Thebe ordered me to catch? 

I drink the last bit of my champagne and face the waiter with a grin on my face.

“May you please pour me two tequila shots,” I say. 

The bartender nods while rocking his head to the loud music. “It’s a busy night, huh? Where’s your date?” He enquires not realising I’m one of Thebe’s entertainers. 

His eyes shift towards the man standing beside me. He smiles and approaches him.

“Good Evening, Sir. How would you like your drink, tonight?” The barman inquires. 

“May you please pour ‘Martini on the rock’ for the lady?” replies the man with a bold voice.

His order stuns the bartender as he stands there dumbfounded with his eyes popped out of his face. The barman composes himself and nods at the man beside me. I avoid looking at him although he smells expensive.

“That will be two-hundred and fifty eight thousand rands, Sir,” says the bartender composing himself.

“Please charge it on my black card,” says the man, handing the barman his card.

Wait! How much did the bartender say the cocktail was? This gentleman’s kind gesture forces me to look at him. Omigosh, George Maluleke.   

He gazes at me with a smirk on his face. I smile back, pick up my liquor, and sip it.

“You’re so kind, thank you. It’s sweet of you,” I say, composing myself as if I am one of these billionaires. He probably knows who I am. He knew my father. The house my family and I live in belongs to him. 

“You’re welcome,” he replies. “I felt, why not buy this gorgeous woman a drink when I noticed you standing here alone while your eyes wandered as if you were contemplating departing this place,” he adds.

“I was on my way out after my one sparkling drink.”

You could’ve mentioned the words ‘cheap drink’ to him. My mind says.

“My name is George… George Maluleke,” he states, extending his hand for me to shake it.

I shake his hand and nod. “Glad to meet you, George. My name is SindiswaKhumalo.”

His eyes are reading me. I’m not a piece of meat. Where is his wife?

“Where is your date?” I hear myself saying as I savour my pricey beverage and wander my eyes while he scans me as if he’s never met a glamorous woman.

I am comfortable letting go of the offer from Thebe’s connection for a business transaction from George. He is a mining and construction powerhouse. He and his wife are notorious for making the right moves in the industry and climbing the ladder.Well, he does the work. The wife is just a pretty thing on his arm.

“I don’t have a date. Where is yours?” He asks.

I grin. “You can’t ask me the same question I’m asking.”

He giggles and I smile at him.

“I mean… what man leaves a stunning woman at the bar alone?”

I chuckle and shrug. “I didn’t bring a date, but I had to be here to support my friend.”

He nods. “That is generous of you. Where has your friend gone?”

I turn and face the barman with the alcohol in my hand. “She was my plus one tonight, but she never made it. I guess she stood me up.”

“Maybe I can keep you company while you wait for her?” He offers.

A furrow forms on my forehead as I turn and glance at him. “Don’t you have a date tonight? Where’s your wife?”

Why did I say that? His tiny brown eyes stare at me. I had to ask him.

“She’s in Germany, holidaying with some friends. I guess you’re stuck here with me,” he explains.

I’m lost for words. That’s the life I want for myself. I need to play tonight right. What do I say to him? I mustn’t sound as if I recognise him. Such a man is a keeper. The gods are with me tonight.

“What field are you in?” I inquire, stirring my refreshment with my finger and lick it.

“I explore many businesses, but mining and construction are my forte,” he explains, acknowledging his drink from the bartender.

I nod my head.

“George, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I must leave since my friend didn’t see the audacity to text me she wasn’t coming.”

“Am I poor company?” George enquires, gazing at me, offended by my words.

I shake my head. “Not at all. You are unplanned company, so I don’t know how your evening schedule looks. Maybe you want to gallivant and meet your associates and I’m in your way.”

He chortles. “Do I sound as if I battle to speak for myself?”

I shake my head. “I don’t judge people that way.”

“I can be all yours if you summon me.” He suggests, taking my hand.

“Madam, Sir… should I refill your glasses?” says the bartender, capturing our attention.

George looks at him, then at me. What am I to say? Yes, I would love another bottle?  No. I will keep silent and gaze back at him.

He stares at the bartender and nods. “May you please give us a bottle of your 2020 Taste of Diamonds and have one of your servers bring it to my table at the VIP section where I will relax with the lady,” says George to the barman as he grabs my hand and we stroll away.

On our way to his table, we meet a woman heading in our direction. 

“Mr Maluleke, they are ready for you to deliver your speech and cut the ribbon, declaring the hotel open,” reports the woman to George. 

He nods at her. “I’m right behind you, Maryanne, thank you.”

Maryanne leaves.

“I suggest you better get going,” I tell him.

“Yeah… Listen, I had my secretary book me the presidential suite for tonight. May you please join me for the night?” George requests.

“Well… I.”

“Please, Sindiswa. I will appreciate it if you spent the night,” he adds, pecking my hand and handing me his room-card.

I stare at him and nod. “Okay.”

“Promise me I’ll find you waiting for me.”

I nod, tucking my panties into his blazer’s pocket. His hand reaches for me and I flinch and walk away. I had to make-a-statement.

Let me head to Thebe since he’s investigating my every move. Thebe looks annoyed. What’s with him?

“Sindi-baby, forget George. He isn’t the man,” he states.

“Put another girl on him. I should receive a dividend for even bagging the hotel owner himself,” I reply.

“He did not pay for my services so he does not get my girl.”

“Thebe, I am staying with George.”

He chuckles “Then you don’t get paid.”

“It’s fine… because I quit.”

“If you quit, you must leave the premises because you’re not allowed to conduct business where I run a business.”

“Too bad. I have a key-card to his presidential suite.”

Thebe scoffs. “A true slut. Should I inform Sly about your demeanour? He will kill you since you’re his courtesan.”

“No, Thebe, I am your courtesan. I know I’m your side gig from Sly’s business. If you give me problems with quitting, I’ll tell Sly everything.”

Silence cuts like a sharp knife.

“I am done,” I declare and leave him standing there.

“I’m worried about Thandeka”, I tell Mthunzi as we are cuddled on our bed now that our guests have left and our kids are tucked into bed. It’s an early night, but it’s been a great day and we are tired. 

“I’ve never like Nathi. He’s always been trash as a husband to Thandeka. But she’s in the situation and it is what it is. When she was with Tom’s cousin, Kathu, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I can see why she would never want to go down that road again.” He tells me. 

“But Thandeka loves Nathi. Maybe at first it was a duty thing. But she fell in love. Yeah, Khathu felt good at the time because of who she was and where she was in her life at the time. But now, Nathi is the one for her.” 

“I don’t know, babe. You know, you can learn to stay and find love in situations that you have no business staying in for love. It doesn’t mean it’s love.” He says. 

This just got deep. I look at him intrigued. He kisses my cheek, then he tells me… 

“Thandeka and I went to boarding school together before we even hit puberty. We knew that it had something to do with her and the royalty thing and how she had to preserve herself for a prince or king one day. But we had no idea that my parents also had a lot to hide.” 

“What do you mean by that?” I ask him. 

“My dad was not a nice person. I have no idea what my mother saw in him and what she honoured so much about him. He had kids everywhere and my mother kept turning a blind eye to his shit. Thandeka takes after her big time when it comes to being tolerant for bullshit. I didn’t know that my father was raping my sisters while my brothers and I were away. My brothers and I were in boarding school and my sisters stayed at home. Nonhlanhla always hated the smell of Nivea products. She would just smell Nivea on you and she would throw up. Sihle ran away from home every time. My dad would say that they are going through a stage. But they had changed completely. We just never understood it. Then I walked in on him raping Nhlanhla one day.” 

He breathes…

I honestly cannot believe what he is telling me.

“Nhlanhla was crying. She was just lying there and this old man was having his way with her like she owed it to him. He was strangling her and pleasuring himself, moaning like that shit was consented. I literally froze. I had never seen anything like that in my life before. And I couldn’t understand it. So I left Nhlanhla’s room and went to my mother, who was watching television at a high volume as if blocking out Nhlanhla’s muffled crying. I told her what my father was doing to Nhlanhla and she ignored me. Imagine.” 

He is not crying, but he is greatly disturbed. How messed up must you be to allow anyone to molest your children? Especially your husband. 

“Mfundo’s mother…” He pauses. He sits up. 

“My friends and I invited her over to one of my friends’ house. She was a beautiful girl. And we had taken out a bet on who would break her virginity. So we invited her over and told her to bring some friends so she wouldn’t be alone. She came with about two friends and we hosted them. My friend’s parents were away and we were house sitting. Later that day, I took her up to a room. We spoke a bit just to warm up the situation then I initiated the sex. She was uncomfortable, but she wasn’t crying. She told me she wasn’t sure if she was ready, but she didn’t push me off her. When I was finished, she behaved the way that Nhlanhla and Sihle behaved after my father was done with them. So, I ran her a bubble bath. I thought she just wanted to wash me and my scent off her. I waited at the door as she bathed. After she was dressed up, I made her food and as awkward as it was, I forced a conversation with her- to help her forget. And I made her laugh.” 

I’m not sure if this is a rape scene or what. But it is unsettling. 

“Then, my friends walked into the room and they started undressing her. She told them that she didn’t want to have sex with them. But they pinned her down. They started taking turns with her. I wanted to help. I wanted to stop them. But her cry was as painful and as muffled as Nhlanhla’s cry and the image of my dad raping her paralyzed me to do anything about what was happening in front of me. When they were finished, we all went downstairs because we had to put money together to send these girls home. I saw her friends were also crying. Later that day, we were talking about what happened and I learned that they forced themselves on these girls too. I never called them out on it, but I did stop talking to them. Then when I thought this entire situation was over, the Langa family came to my house to say that I impregnated Kholiwe. Obviously, my first thought was how did she know it was me because she didn’t just have sex with me that day and no one used a condom. But I felt like she had been humiliated enough and I wasn’t going to humiliate her further. So I accepted the pregnancy, but explained that I’m just a student. I’ll help Kholiwe, but they’d need to wait for me to be financially okay before I can pay damages. Thankfully, nine months later, that baby came out looking exactly like me. So I was thankful that I didn’t deny touching her.” 

“Babe, did the two of you ever talk about what happened and how it affected her? What was she like at school after that?” I ask. 

He looks at me. Then he says, “We never spoke about it. I understood that what my friends and I did was wrong, but I still don’t know if I raped Kholiwe or was it just my friends that performed the rape. When I met Sindi, Kholiwe was upset. She was extremely upset. She thought I’d marry her and make up for what I did to her and what I allowed to happen to her. But I didn’t love her. I felt like I owed her, yes. But did I really owe her marriage? Sindi got pregnant and with her, I paid damages and lobola. This just set Kholiwe off because I had still not paid damages for Mfundo. I was just an intern at the time, I couldn’t afford to pay damages for both kids. When Sindi and I would go to KZN to visit my parents, Sindi and Kholiwe would always fight and I felt bad because I kinda owed Kholiwe. Their fight at some point got physical and the things they’d say to each other- you know Sindi is a dirty fighter. I couldn’t stop them though. Two women who were part of me in very different ways and they both mothered my children. Every time I’d go fetch Mfundo to visit, shit popped off even with me. Then I was told that I’d never see Mfundo again if I didn’t make her my second wife. Dude, I was an intern. Where was I going to find money to marry two women? I mean really.” 

I think about laughing at that last comment, but his face is still serious.

“Then that day came… 

I was going to fetch Mfundo for a visit and I walked into the house because I had been knocking and no one was answering, but Mfundo was screaming at the top of his lungs. I broke into the house and Kholiwe was just there… hanging from the ceiling and Mfundo was seated in his sitting pillow watching her. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day or how lifeless and breathless she looked. I’ve heard that dead people look peaceful. Kholiwe looked – the same. And now that I think about it, she looked how had been looking since that day we did unforgivable things to her. That beautiful girl we all wanted in on died the day we forced ourselves in. And I finished her by not honouring her for what she had endured because of me and in my presence. I literally sat down next to her dead body hanging from the ceiling and listened to my son cry, mourning his mother on behalf of both of us. Her parents came back home three hours later and I was still in that very position. It was when they asked me why I didn’t call the police or an ambulance that I realized that, the situation paralyzed me the same way my father raping my sister paralyzed me.” 

I hug him. I don’t know what to say. I really don’t. What do I say? Honestly. He hangs on to me. He is not crying, but he is going through something emotionally.

“Thandeka told me that Nathi once raped her after beating her up. I can never respect that man. He doesn’t deserve Thandeka. Love or not, Thandeka will end up killing him the same way my mom once woke up next to a dead body in her bed then denied that she killed my dad – even though the knife was in her hand. Psychologists say that it was her conscience that overcame her and she was not conscious of what she was doing. So the court found her guilty, but she didn’t do time. She still has no memory of what happened. I’m terrified that one day, this will be Thandeka. Or, like Kholiwe, she will end her own life.”

“I’m worried about Thandeka”, I tell Mthunzi as we are cuddled on our bed now that our guests have left and our kids are tucked into bed. It’s an early night, but it’s been a great day and we are tired. 

“I’ve never like Nathi. He’s always been trash as a husband to Thandeka. But she’s in the situation and it is what it is. When she was with Tom’s cousin, Kathu, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I can see why she would never want to go down that road again.” He tells me. 

“But Thandeka loves Nathi. Maybe at first it was a duty thing. But she fell in love. Yeah, Khathu felt good at the time because of who she was and where she was in her life at the time. But now, Nathi is the one for her.” 

“I don’t know, babe. You know, you can learn to stay and find love in situations that you have no business staying in for love. It doesn’t mean it’s love.” He says. 

This just got deep. I look at him intrigued. He kisses my cheek, then he tells me… 

“Thandeka and I went to boarding school together before we even hit puberty. We knew that it had something to do with her and the royalty thing and how she had to preserve herself for a prince or king one day. But we had no idea that my parents also had a lot to hide.” 

“What do you mean by that?” I ask him. 

“My dad was not a nice person. I have no idea what my mother saw in him and what she honoured so much about him. He had kids everywhere and my mother kept turning a blind eye to his shit. Thandeka takes after her big time when it comes to being tolerant for bullshit. I didn’t know that my father was raping my sisters while my brothers and I were away. My brothers and I were in boarding school and my sisters stayed at home. Nonhlanhla always hated the smell of Nivea products. She would just smell Nivea on you and she would throw up. Sihle ran away from home every time. My dad would say that they are going through a stage. But they had changed completely. We just never understood it. Then I walked in on him raping Nhlanhla one day.” 

He breathes…

I honestly cannot believe what he is telling me.

“Nhlanhla was crying. She was just lying there and this old man was having his way with her like she owed it to him. He was strangling her and pleasuring himself, moaning like that shit was consented. I literally froze. I had never seen anything like that in my life before. And I couldn’t understand it. So I left Nhlanhla’s room and went to my mother, who was watching television at a high volume as if blocking out Nhlanhla’s muffled crying. I told her what my father was doing to Nhlanhla and she ignored me. Imagine.” 

He is not crying, but he is greatly disturbed. How messed up must you be to allow anyone to molest your children? Especially your husband. 

“Mfundo’s mother…” He pauses. He sits up. 

“My friends and I invited her over to one of my friends’ house. She was a beautiful girl. And we had taken out a bet on who would break her virginity. So we invited her over and told her to bring some friends so she wouldn’t be alone. She came with about two friends and we hosted them. My friend’s parents were away and we were house sitting. Later that day, I took her up to a room. We spoke a bit just to warm up the situation then I initiated the sex. She was uncomfortable, but she wasn’t crying. She told me she wasn’t sure if she was ready, but she didn’t push me off her. When I was finished, she behaved the way that Nhlanhla and Sihle behaved after my father was done with them. So, I ran her a bubble bath. I thought she just wanted to wash me and my scent off her. I waited at the door as she bathed. After she was dressed up, I made her food and as awkward as it was, I forced a conversation with her- to help her forget. And I made her laugh.” 

I’m not sure if this is a rape scene or what. But it is unsettling. 

“Then, my friends walked into the room and they started undressing her. She told them that she didn’t want to have sex with them. But they pinned her down. They started taking turns with her. I wanted to help. I wanted to stop them. But her cry was as painful and as muffled as Nhlanhla’s cry and the image of my dad raping her paralyzed me to do anything about what was happening in front of me. When they were finished, we all went downstairs because we had to put money together to send these girls home. I saw her friends were also crying. Later that day, we were talking about what happened and I learned that they forced themselves on these girls too. I never called them out on it, but I did stop talking to them. Then when I thought this entire situation was over, the Langa family came to my house to say that I impregnated Kholiwe. Obviously, my first thought was how did she know it was me because she didn’t just have sex with me that day and no one used a condom. But I felt like she had been humiliated enough and I wasn’t going to humiliate her further. So I accepted the pregnancy, but explained that I’m just a student. I’ll help Kholiwe, but they’d need to wait for me to be financially okay before I can pay damages. Thankfully, nine months later, that baby came out looking exactly like me. So I was thankful that I didn’t deny touching her.” 

“Babe, did the two of you ever talk about what happened and how it affected her? What was she like at school after that?” I ask. 

He looks at me. Then he says, “We never spoke about it. I understood that what my friends and I did was wrong, but I still don’t know if I raped Kholiwe or was it just my friends that performed the rape. When I met Sindi, Kholiwe was upset. She was extremely upset. She thought I’d marry her and make up for what I did to her and what I allowed to happen to her. But I didn’t love her. I felt like I owed her, yes. But did I really owe her marriage? Sindi got pregnant and with her, I paid damages and lobola. This just set Kholiwe off because I had still not paid damages for Mfundo. I was just an intern at the time, I couldn’t afford to pay damages for both kids. When Sindi and I would go to KZN to visit my parents, Sindi and Kholiwe would always fight and I felt bad because I kinda owed Kholiwe. Their fight at some point got physical and the things they’d say to each other- you know Sindi is a dirty fighter. I couldn’t stop them though. Two women who were part of me in very different ways and they both mothered my children. Every time I’d go fetch Mfundo to visit, shit popped off even with me. Then I was told that I’d never see Mfundo again if I didn’t make her my second wife. Dude, I was an intern. Where was I going to find money to marry two women? I mean really.” 

I think about laughing at that last comment, but his face is still serious.

“Then that day came… 

I was going to fetch Mfundo for a visit and I walked into the house because I had been knocking and no one was answering, but Mfundo was screaming at the top of his lungs. I broke into the house and Kholiwe was just there… hanging from the ceiling and Mfundo was seated in his sitting pillow watching her. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day or how lifeless and breathless she looked. I’ve heard that dead people look peaceful. Kholiwe looked – the same. And now that I think about it, she looked how had been looking since that day we did unforgivable things to her. That beautiful girl we all wanted in on died the day we forced ourselves in. And I finished her by not honouring her for what she had endured because of me and in my presence. I literally sat down next to her dead body hanging from the ceiling and listened to my son cry, mourning his mother on behalf of both of us. Her parents came back home three hours later and I was still in that very position. It was when they asked me why I didn’t call the police or an ambulance that I realized that, the situation paralyzed me the same way my father raping my sister paralyzed me.” 

I hug him. I don’t know what to say. I really don’t. What do I say? Honestly. He hangs on to me. He is not crying, but he is going through something emotionally.

“Thandeka told me that Nathi once raped her after beating her up. I can never respect that man. He doesn’t deserve Thandeka. Love or not, Thandeka will end up killing him the same way my mom once woke up next to a dead body in her bed then denied that she killed my dad – even though the knife was in her hand. Psychologists say that it was her conscience that overcame her and she was not conscious of what she was doing. So the court found her guilty, but she didn’t do time. She still has no memory of what happened. I’m terrified that one day, this will be Thandeka. Or, like Kholiwe, she will end her own life.”