UMFAZI WAKWA NDWANDWE
WRITTEN BY L . P . MBHELE
INSERT 004.
_KAGOENTLE NDWANDWE _
Everyone is done eating breakfast, my mother in law is such a sweetheart I’m telling you. Nhlanzeko came downstairs with my laugage, he looked at me.
“Do you want to say goodbye to your parent’s?” I looked at them as Ilithalami is with mother in law and father with father in law. I shook my head then turned to walk out of the hotel.
The awkwardness was palpable, like a thick fog that refused to lift. As I stood outside Nhlanzeko’s car, the sun’s warmth beat down on me, a stark contrast to the nervous tension building in my chest. Nhlanzeko’s unexpected gesture of opening the door for me left me momentarily stunned, a hint of surprise etched on my face. I couldn’t help but chuckle, a mix of amusement and unease, as I slipped into the car. The leather seat enveloped me, cool and smooth, a welcome respite from the anxiety swirling inside.
The drive to KZN was a blur of quiet introspection, the only sound the soft hum of the engine and the occasional murmur of voices from the other cars. I kept stealing glances at Nhlanzeko, wondering what was going through his mind. His profile was stoic, focused on the road ahead, his eyes narrowed slightly as he navigated the traffic. The sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his neck, seemed chiseled from stone, giving nothing away. I felt a pang of curiosity, mixed with a dash of apprehension. What was he thinking? Did he feel the weight of this arranged marriage as heavily as I did?
As we hit the highway, the cityscape gave way to a blur of green and brown, the wind rustling my hair. I settled into the silence, my thoughts drifting to what’s to come. KZN, the unknown, the first wife… The words echoed in my mind like a mantra, each one a question mark, a reminder that I was stepping into a world I knew little about. I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the present, on the gentle hum of the car, on the warmth of the sun on my skin. Nhlanzeko’s voice broke the silence,
“You good?” His eyes flicked to mine, a brief moment of connection before he turned back to the road. I felt a tiny spark of appreciation for his concern, a glimmer of gratitude that someone was checking in on me, even if it was just a courtesy.
I nodded, feeling a little self-conscious, “Yeah, I’m good.”
The words felt hollow, a poor attempt to convince myself, let alone Nhlanzeko. He didn’t press the issue, simply nodded and turned his attention back to the road. We drove in silence for a while, the only sound the steady thhum of the engine, the occasional beep of a horn in the distance. The tension between us was a living thing, pulsing with every heartbeat, reminding me that this was just the beginning. The hours ticked by, the landscape unfolding like a tapestry outside my window, as we wound our way to KZN.
_UNKNOWN_
The bathroom was still steamy from my shower, the mirror fogged up like my thoughts. I wiped the condensation off my face, staring at my reflection, trying to process the bombshell I’d just dropped on myself. Three pregnancy tests, all with the same result: positive. My mind was a jumble of questions, doubts, and fears. Who was the father? How did this happen? What about my job, my life, my plans? I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, like everything I’d worked for was slipping through my fingers.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside. I needed to get to the doctor, confirm the pregnancy, and figure out what to do next. I glanced at the clock, 10:30 PM. I had time to grab some lunch, get to the shoot, and then head to the doctor’s office. I dressed in my comfiest tracksuit, the soft fabric a small comfort against the turmoil brewing inside. I slipped on my sneakers, grabbed my bag, and headed out the door, locking it behind me with a sense of trepidation. What was I walking into?
The shoot was a whirlwind of cameras, lights, and noise. I put on my game face, plastering a smile on my face, trying to shake off the weight of my secret. I worked the camera, posing, laughing, and pretending like everything was fine. But my mind kept wandering back to those three little sticks, to the life changing possibility that I wasn’t ready for. The clock ticked slowly, each minute dragging like an eternity. Finally, it was over. I changed quickly, grabbed my stuff, and headed to the doctor’s office, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum.
The waiting room was sterile and quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner. I fidgeted in my seat, flipping through a magazine, trying to distract myself. The nurse called my name, and I stood up, feeling like I was walking to the gallows. The examination room was cold, the paper on the bed crushing beneath me as I sat down. Siphesihle walked in, a sympathetic look on her face,
“Hey, girl, don’t tell me you sick Ziyanda”.