CHAPTER 14
Four Months Later…
NOMVULA
I stare back at my reflection on the mirror and for the first time in six years, my resemblance to my mother doesn’t make my eyes teary. My dimples—the only facial feature my father contributed to my face brings a smile to my face. He loved me, but he loved his dimples on my face even more. I apply setting spray on my face and almost scream ‘Stella just got her groove back!’. I don’t remember the last time I dressed up, let alone dolled myself up like this. I had forgotten who I am and the little things I used to do for myself almost became forgotten memories.
It’s been four months since my uncle held me hostage and refused to release me. He had one demand—sign over everything to him. A part of me almost gave in when I watched his guys torture Sabelo. I don’t know how they overpowered or outplayed him. But one thing was certain on that day, my uncle would choose money over anyone in his family any given day. He didn’t care if his daughters were slaughtered like goats or his wife slain; his focus was on the money. It was shocking and frightening to witness the extent to which people would fight for something that wasn’t theirs to begin with. He sounded like someone who was convinced that he deserved to inherit my parents’ wealth more than I did. You would swear he was their child that they had hidden.
I was on the verge of giving up everything my parents worked hard for when a gun fire filled the room and my ears rang so loud I felt my own scream echoing throughout my body. More shots were fired, the place rumbled and I swear I felt the walls and floors shake. The firing went on until I felt my body becoming numb. I couldn’t feel or hear anything. My vision blurred and as a survival tactic, my brain took me back to the day I hate the most; the day I buried my parents. The next thing I remember I was being baptised with a bucketful of water. The deep breath I took felt like I was coming back to life—like I had died a little. I wanted to ask what had happened but seeing blood and the fury in Sabelo’s team’s faces had me keeping quiet. It wasn’t the moment and my questions could wait. At that moment, all that mattered was to appreciate that we were all still alive. Some wounded, but wounds heal whereas death is final.
But wait, the TV on the background said otherwise. My uncle’s face filled the screen and déjà vu coursed throughout my body. My body shook involuntarily and a deafening scream escaped my lips. I didn’t mean to scream for that man or let alone shed a tear for my uncle, but I found myself mourning. Not for him but for my parents and all the pain he had caused. He was dead, wrapped in a foil like a useless body he had always been yet I still felt like he had not been punished enough for what he had done. I felt like watching him being devoured by animals while I watched would be better. Another thought crossed my mind and watching him being hunted down by men like in those Mexican telenovelas would be a better option. But then, he would still end up dead. Maybe a life of suffering is what he deserved, but then he would still be wasting oxygen. I hope he doesn’t find rest and suffer for his sins.
Enough about bad things. I finally got everything my parents worked hard for back. It all felt like a dream when the lawyers presented me with all the papers. I thought the chaos that erupted the day my uncle died would land us all in jail but it turned out the police were more than happy to sweep the case under the carpet. I don’t know why, but the case didn’t go any further than two hearings. The company Sabelo works for took a certain percentage from the estate but it did not dent the estate. I’m still sitting on multimillions that I haven’t decided on what to do with them. I just want to get my mind in the right state before jumping into anything. But one thing is certain, I must pursue a postgraduate degree and also learn the ropes about my father’s businesses.
My phone vibrates on the bed just as I apply lipstick. I look at it and smile as my cousin’s name flashes on the screen. In everything that happened, I’m grateful to be reunited with my maternal family. They all love me as if they are making up for the lost time and this particular cousin—her name is Nandi and has this uncanny resemblance to my mother. She cares and looks after me as if she’s a reincarnation of my mother. But that wouldn’t be possible, people don’t reincarnate until they die. My mother died six years ago and my cousin is two years older than me.
“Hey,” I answer excitedly.
“Open your gate, I’m here,” she says. It’s strange that she even sounds like my mother. Or am I reading too much into it? Maybe I just miss my mother so much that I see her in everything around me.
I rush to the kitchen where the gate remote is and open the gate for her. I need to upgrade the security system of this apartment. I need to be able to lock and unlock everything using my phone.
It doesn’t take long before her scent fills my apartment and her smile brightens it.
“Cuz,” I crush into her body and she holds me tight.
“I hope you are not crying because girl, I’m going to smack them off of your face,” she teases.
“I’m not crying, I just missed you,” I pout.
“It’s only been three days, stop exaggerating,” she smiles at me but her smile is quickly replaced by a frown. “Girl, what are you wearing?”
“A dress—”
“We are not going to church, we are going to a club. A club, Nomvula!”
“But there’s nothing wrong with my dress—”
“Have you ever been to a club?”
“Uhm…no,” embarrassment flashes on my face.
“You really listened to your father when he told you not to date or go clubbing?” she asks, I nod. “Come with me,” she’s dragging me back to the bedroom.
Five minutes later, I’m wearing the shortest dress Nandi could find in my closet and my cleavage is exposed. I only wore this dress once and my father made me vow to never wear it again because of how men were looking at me. Now that I’m wearing it again, I can confidently say that the dress suits my body.
“Now you look like someone going to a club, let’s go.”
“We will have food first, right?”
“Of course, I’m not planning on downing BJs on an empty stomach.”
“Great!” I smile nervously. I’m not nervous because I’m going to the club the first time, I’m nervous because I don’t know if I can handle my alcohol. I have never had shooters or more than one glass of wine. I have lived a disciplined and sheltered life throughout my existence. Now I want to do this, I want to go out and find myself but I’m scared at the same time.
“Relax, the world won’t swallow you whole unless you let it,” Nandi says as she unlocks her car. One thing about Nandi, she will plan an outing, pay for everything and drive us around in her Hyundai i10 despite knowing my bank balance and seeing the fleet of cars my parents left. She’s one person I can confidently say that she loves me for me not because of what I have. She gives zero phucks about my money, she’s okay with her salary as a detective.
“Okay, okay,” I take a deep breath. This is it, you can live again Nomvula.
*****
SABELO
“Do you really want to do this?” Ndalo asks for the millionth time ever since she arrived.
“No, but I keep seeing my wife and she’s not happy about how I dealt with this matter. The kid is mine, and a tiny part of me wants to try this father thing but a larger part of me is not ready to accept that I procreated with Zipho of all people,” I sigh.
“Have you tried to think about this kid as his own person not Zipho’s son?”
I look at her blankly. I don’t know the kid, it’s even hard to picture him as a person. This whole thing still feels like a bad dream.
“Maybe you should try that. Stop punishing your own seed for someone else’s sins. That kid is yours, you proved it. Don’t do things that will anger your ancestors.”
“I hear you. I hope I won’t suffocate and die during this so called introduction dinner,” I tease.
“Mxm! Awukahle nedrama (Stop being dramatic). Where is your lover?” she changes the subject.
“In the garage.”
She smacks me on the shoulder, I laugh.
“I mean a person not car! What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m single,” I remind her.
“So what were you doing with Nomvula?”
“Nothing. We kissed and that was it. I remembered that I’m still grieving and decided to put a stop to whatever we were trying to start.”
“You won’t grieve forever, you know that, right?”
“I know, but until then, I will wait.”
“If you say so.”
There’s something about Nomvula but the feelings I have for my wife are still too pronounced to ignore. She’s in my mind and my life is still centered around her. Time will tell if there’s something to pursue with Nomvula.
*****
The restaurant is air-conditioned but I feel hot already. I’m on my second glass of beer and there is still no sign of Zipho and her child. I hate people who set appointments and be the ones to come late. If you invite someone, respect their time.
“Are you still good, Sir?” a waitress asks.
“Can you get me something stronger? Whiskey?”
“Sure. Which one?”
“The strongest you have,” I say and she walks away with a smile. Just then I see Zipho walking in, the little boy’s hand in hers. They look good together, she almost looks like a model mother. She looks up, our eyes lock and she smiles nervously. The boy on the other hand looks oblivious to everything that is about to happen. I watch them as they walk towards my table. A part of me wants to stand up and walk out but I choose to listen to my sister’s reasoning. I stay.
“Hey,” Zipho greets.
“Hi,” I greet back. I want to tell her that she’s late but the boy staring at me has me changing my mind. “Hey, little man,” I force a smile. The boy looks at me hard and long.
“My mom says you are my father, are you?” the question punches the air out of my lungs. I’m still trying to recover when he says, “My father doesn’t meet me empty-handed, he buys me gifts every time he visits. You are not my father.”
Okay. We have a problem, a big one. Not only does this kid look like me, he has my attitude too.
“I.. Can you sit down?”
“No. My dad said I shouldn’t trust strangers.”
Is he blind? Can’t he see that I’m the older version of him? Also, why didn’t Zipho tell him the truth already?
“Sorry, he can be difficult,” she says.
For some reason, my eyes are drawn to the entrance and, lo and behold, the stunning Nomvula struts in. I want to ignore her, turn my attention back to the two people. She looks up, her eyes sparkling with life and excitement and I get swallowed into her world, without her even noticing it…
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