NURSE THEMBENI
CHAPTER 23
MENZI
I drove through the night from Manzana to Durban without telling my father I was leaving. I did not leave a message, or tell the guards. I just got in the car and drove.
The road was long and dark which was good for me. I needed distance from him, his voice, and time away from his expectations pressing down on me. Every time he looks at me, I feel his control, his belief that I belong to the throne more than I belong to myself.
I am not a boy anymore. I am a leader. A chief. Men lower their heads when I walk into a room. But when it comes to my father, I am still expected to obey.
I needed air. I needed my own space. I needed them.
By the time I reach the small house tucked away in a quiet corner of Durban, the sky is turning pale. The place is nothing special from the outside. Just another house on a silent street. But to me, it is everything. It is the only place where I am not someone’s son, not someone’s chief. Or someone’s future king.
Here, I am just Menzi.
I unlock the door and step inside. The world outside fades instantly, like it always does. It smells like home in here. I inhale deeply. Uphuthu. I know that smell anywhere. Thick stew rich with tomatoes and onions. I can already taste the spinach and butternut she always makes on the side.
She knows me too well.
I close the door softly behind me, and before I can even take off my jacket, I hear the sound of small feet pounding against the floor.
“Daddy!”
Hlengwa throws himself at my legs with pure joy. He is four now, but he already carries himself with confidence. He has my dark eyes, my stubborn chin. Even his hair breaks combs like mine, no matter how much Phiwayinkosi tries to tame it.
I bend down and scoop him up in one strong motion, lifting him high into the air. He laughs loudly. That sound breaks something open inside me. It clears the noise in my head.
“Ngwane elihle,” I murmur, pulling him close to my chest. I kiss his forehead and breathe him in. “Baba missed you.”
He wraps his small arms around my neck tightly.
“Missed you more, Daddy. Mommy made your favorite.”
He must have been pestering her about what she’s making.
I set him down on his feet, but keep my hand resting on his shoulder. Phiwa steps out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She looks at me the way she always does, first checking, making sure I am whole. Making sure I am not bleeding or bruised from battles I do not tell her about.
She is beautiful, not in a way that demands attention. But in a way that settles into a man’s bones. Smooth skin, full lips. Her eyes see through every wall I try to build.
My father tried to scare her away years ago and make her disappear from my life. But I do not let go of what is mine.
And she is mine.
“MaMkhize.”
She smiles. “You’re home. Come eat before your food gets cold.”
I walk to her first, pull her into me and kiss her deeply. I kiss her like a man who drove through the night just to breathe her in. For a moment, she melts against me. Then she laughs softly against my lips.
“Food first, Menzi.”
I smirk. “Bossy as always.”
We sit at the table together. Hlengwa talks non-stop about his drawings and the lessons Phiwa teaches him at home. He’s hime schooled, I can’t afford him to be out there, my father would easily find him.
“The food is nice, ngiyabonga mama.”
She smiles, waving me away. I have notice it how Phiwa is quiet today. I know her moods the way I know the land I lead. Something is building inside her.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Hlengwa, go get that drawing you wanted to show baba.” She says to our little boy.
She waits until Hlengwa runs off to the other room.
“I’m worried about our son, Menzi… this hiding is not sustainable. Hlengwa is growing. He will need school one day. He needs Friends, a normal life. We cannot keep him hidden forever.”
I put my spoon down, reach across the table and take her hand. Her fingers are warm but tense.
“I know, MaMkhize. I have been thinking about it too.”
And I have. More than she knows.
“Once I secure the throne fully, I will bring you both home. You will be with me openly. Protected from my father.”
She lowers her eyes. Her fingers trace the edge of her plate. I have told her this before, it doesn’t excite her, it never has.
“Secure the throne… by marrying Thembeni?” She says.
I told her everything. I do not lie to her. She knows it all, she knows what marrying Thembeni would mean for the kingdom. Stability. Wealth. Power sealed in place.
“Yes, it will seal everything, and strengthen the line. It will quiet the council and give us leverage.”
Her hand tightens in mine.
“And you think your father will allow you to suddenly bring us home after that? He hates me, Menzi. What if he finds out about Hlengwa? What if he hurts our child just to spite us?”
The thought ignites something violent inside me.
“He will not touch my son. I would kill him before he ever laid a finger on either of you. You are mine to protect. Both of you.”
Possessiveness runs deep in my blood. I do not apologize for it. What belongs to me, I guard with everything I am.
Phiwa pulls back slightly.
“I do not want to share you, Menzi, not with her, or anyone.”
I stand and walk around the table. I pull her into my arms. She fits against me like she was made for this space. I kiss her forehead first, then her cheek, then her lips.
“Thembeni will not be my wife in my heart, you are the one for me, Phiwayinkosi. You have always been the one.”
She shakes her head against my chest.
“You think so little of me that you would make me your second wife?”
That stings more than I expected. I pull back immediately and hold her face in my hands.
“No my love. Do not ever think that. I love you, you are not second to anyone.”
But I feel the pull inside me. The throne is not just power, it is responsibility and generations of blood and expectation.
“If I walk away, I do not just lose a title. I will lose influence and protection. And the ability to shape the future for our son.”
Her eyes fill with tears.
“I understand but it’s been so long Menzi, and you don’t love Thembeni. Why do I have to share you with her? I think you should choose. I’m tired of waiting for you to marry another woman.”
The leader in me wants to command the situation, to decide and move forward. But with her, it is never that simple.
“Do not make me choose, Phiwa. You know what my answer would be.”
“Do I? The throne or us?”
I pull her back into my arms, holding her tightly.
“You. Always you and Hlengwa. But I can have both. I will make it work. I am not weak, Phiwa. I do not lose what is mine.”
My thoughts are less certain.
If I give up the throne, Mehlo rises. Everything I have fought for disappears, and we start over with nothing. No protection, no power.
I kiss her again. “I love you, Phiwa. we will find a way.”
She nods, but the doubt remains in her eyes.
Hlengwa runs back in, waving a drawing in the air.
“Look, Daddy!”
I wipe my expression clean and smile. I kneel down and lift him into my arms.
“It is beautiful, my boy,” I tell him.
For now, this is enough. But I know the road between Manzana and Durban too well, and sooner or later, I will have to drive back.
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MEHLOKAZULU
I have been lying in this bed since yesterday. I am tired of it. Bab’Mkhanyakude burned herbs through the night. My skin smells like it, my blankets smell like it, even my mouth tastes bitter.
The poison is leaving my body, that’s what he said.
Yesterday I could not even sit up without my hands shaking. Today the shaking is gone. My body is still weak, but my mind is clear and that matters more.
I have not seen Thembeni since we arrived yesterday. She is probably overwhelmed, not sure what’s really happening. She was taken from her home and brought here too fast. The plan was to bring her after the wedding, with respect, not like this.
But Menzi forced my hand.
The moment I realised he poisoned me, I knew there was no more time to play careful. If I waited, he would take her. So I moved first and sent my people to her people. I claimed her, I just did not plan to be this weak while doing it.
The door opens and MaPhikela walks in with a tray.
She smiles when she sees me awake. She places the tray next to me and touches my forehead.
“You are cooler today, the fever is gone.”
“I am fine,” I tell her.
She sits on the bed and stirs the soup.
“How did it go yesterday? Did our people pay inhlawulo?” I ask.
She takes her time before answering, her focus is on stirring the soup.
“Yes. The cows were accepted. The elders witnessed it. Everything went smoothly.” She says.
Good.
That means the first step is complete. There will be no nasty talk about her purity, no questioning her place in this palace. In the eyes of tradition, the path is clear.
She is mine.
MaPhikela lifts the spoon toward my mouth, she treats me like I am still a boy. I take the bowl from her hand.
“I can feed myself.”
She releases it, but her eyes stay on me.
“Are you sure she is the right one, Ndabezitha?” she asks.
I look at her, she’s clearly talking about Thembeni.
“What are you saying?”
She shrugs lightly. “You told me you were giving her money. That you were having a fling. A woman who accepts money from a man is a prostitute.”
The disrespect is loud.
“Do not call her that.”
“I am protecting you,” she replies.
“No. You are insulting her.”
My tone changes. I never yell at her, but she is pushing me.
“KaMajola never asked me for money. I knew who KaMajola was the first time I saw her. I gave her money because I wanted to. Because I wanted to take care of her, not because she sold herself to me.”
She rolls her eyes, it’s quick, almost invisible but I see it.
I sit up even though my body protests.
“You raised me, MaPhikela. You have my respect for that. But do not roll your eyes when I speak about my woman. Do not test me on that.”
She looks surprised.
“Where is she?” I ask. “I asked to see her.”
“I told her last night and she said she was tired. This morning I reminded her. She said she was still exploring the palace. She will come when she is ready.” She says.
Thembeni? Avoiding me? That does not make sense.
“Where exactly is she?” I ask.
MaPhikela shrugs. “Around.”
I do not like vague answers.
I hold her gaze.
“MaPhikela,” I say clearly.
“Ndabezitha.”
“Bring me my queen!”
She freezes for a second.
“I will get to it,” she says.
“Now.” I add.
She stares for a while, then nods, stands and picks up the tray on her way out.
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