LETHUTHANDO: The Traditional Wife Novel Chapter 2

LETHUTHANDO : The Traditional Wife
CHAPTER 02
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LETHUTHANDO DLOMO
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The afternoon sun was relentless, baking the red earth until the air shimmered with heat. Inside the quiet of the main house, I finally found a moment to sit. My legs ached from the morning spent scrubbing the stoep and chasing Thokozile’s youngest away from the boiling pots.
​I leaned my head against the cool doorframe of the kitchen, closing my eyes. For a few seconds, I wasn’t MaDlomo, the ‘barren’ wife. I wasn’t the daughter-in-law who stayed silent when insulted. I was just Lethuthando.
I thought of Misikhaya’s hug—the way he had whispered for me to look after myself. It was the first time in a year someone had spoken to me as if I were a person, not a vessel or a servant.
​Maybe Khulubuse will get that job, I whispered to the empty room. Maybe we will have our own front door, and I can wake up when the sun is already high.
​The dream was short-lived. The sound of a taxi pulling up at the gate shattered the silence.
​Thokozile stepped out of the vehicle, her Shoprite uniform slightly wrinkled, a smirk already firmly in place. She clutched her handbag tightly, the small rectangular box inside feeling like a weapon she couldn’t wait to use.
​She walked into the yard, ignored her children who ran toward her, and headed straight for the kitchen where I was just standing up.
​”MaDlomo!” she called out, her voice dripping with a false, honeyed excitement.
“Still resting? My, my, the life of a ‘pregnant’ woman must be so peaceful.”
​She walked past me, tossing her bag onto the table.
“I told my colleagues at work about our ‘situation.’ They all think you’re so brave, taking care of my little ones while you wait for your own. They say you’re a saint.”
​I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I knew Thokozile. I knew “saint” was just another word for “fool” in her mouth.
​”I just do what needs to be done, Thoko,” I said quietly, reaching for the kettle.
​”Well, let’s see if all that hard work has paid off.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the white and blue box, sliding it across the table like a card in a high-stakes game.
“MaNxumalo told me to bring this. I’m sure she’s waiting in her room, counting the minutes. Go on. Take it to the bathroom. Let’s see if there’s a Zondo in there, or if we’re just wasting our breath.”
​She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms and watching me with eyes that hoped for my failure. I looked at the box. My hands began to shake. I sighed.
“I’m not taking this test. ”
She frowned instantly.
“Awungitsheli lokho. Not after wasting my money on this. Go on! I’m waiting.”
She looks so ready to mock me, to laugh about my ‘situation’, as they call it.
​”Go,” she urged, her smile widening. “Don’t keep the family waiting, Sisi.”
I picked up the box. The bright blue lettering seemed to scream at me, mocking my quiet life. I could feel Thokozile’s eyes boring into my back, her presence in the kitchen like a predator waiting for the kill. ​I turned to look toward the hallway, and there stood Khulubuse.
​He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His face was a mask of strained neutrality, but I saw the way his pulse thrummed in his neck. He didn’t look at his sister; his gaze was fixed entirely on the small box in my hand. It was the look of a man who had put all his chips on a single number and was now watching the wheel slow down. He doesn’t say anything, instead he shook his head.
I looked at Thokozile.
“I’m not going to take this test, I’m not pregnant.”
“okay Dr Smith. I’d like to see the results from the pregnancy test because I don’t believe you.”
“I’m on my periods, okay? So I’m not pregnant. Thank you for this but in not using it because it’ll be just a waste of money and time.” I said and made my way out, passing my husband by the door and made my way to our bedroom.
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THOKOZILE ZONDO
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​I didn’t even try to hide my amusement, she had to the nerve to answer me today, I’m surprised honestly. She finally has the guts hit I won’t tolerate disrespect. I hopped up to sit on the edge of the table, swinging my legs like a child.
​”You look disappointed, Khulu,” I teased, picking at a fingernail.
“Relax. At least she’s already got my kids to practice on. She’s quite good at it, you know. Sometimes I think they like her more than me—probably because she’s so desperate to be a ‘mother’ that she’ll let them get away with anything.”
​Khulubuse finally looked at me his eyes hardening.
“Shut up, Thoko. This isn’t a joke.”
​”Oh, I know it’s not,” I snapped back, her voice losing its playful edge.
“It’s a reality check. You’re thirty-five, brother. You’re pinning your whole legacy on a girl who spends more time daydreaming about ‘God’s time’ than actually producing results. Maybe the problem isn’t the ancestors. Maybe the problem is simply… her.”
​Khulubuse flinched, but he didn’t say anything.
​​ “At least my kids still need their clothes washed. At least your wife is still useful for something.”
​I walked out, laughing loudly as I headed to my mother’s bedroom to deliver the “news.”
I stepped inside. MaNxumalo was sitting in her high-backed chair, her hands resting on her knees, waiting.
​”So?” she did, her voice was like gravel grinding together.
​”Nothing, Ma,” I said, “She’s on her periods so there’s no bun in the oven. Our ‘Traditional Wife’ is as empty as a dry well.”
​She didn’t flinch. She let out a long, Hissing breath through her teeth.
​”Six years they have been together,” she muttered, her eyes darkening.
“A year since the lobola cattle crossed the gate. My son is wasting his strength on soil that won’t take the seed.”
​”Maybe she’s doing it on purpose, Ma,” I added, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms.
“She acted like she was tired and needed rest, avoiding her wifely duties. Maybe she doesn’t want the weight of a child because she won’t ‘rest’ enough. She’s happy enough playing mother to mine because she can hand them back when they cry. She’s got it easy here.”
​My mother stood up slowly, her joints popping. She walked to the window and looked out toward their bedroom.
​”She doesn’t have it easy,” MaNxumalo said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, low hum.
“Not anymore. If she cannot give this family what it paid for, then she will earn her keep in sweat. I will not have a useless mouth eating Zondo food.”
​She turned to look at me, her expression hardening into something clinical and cold.
​”Go and tell her. Tomorrow, they leave for Mhlathiwepukane before the first cock crows. If the ancestors won’t give us a child, then the healer will have to dig one out of her. And tell her to stop crying—tears don’t fill a womb. Only blood and obedience do.”
​I grinned, a sharp, jagged thing.
“I’ll tell her, Ma. I’ll make sure she knows exactly how disappointed you are.”
​I said, already making my way out. I bumped into Nosipho by the passage.
“Mama! Look what the cat dragged in.” I said, crossing my arms against my chest.
“Ey! Awume nescefe” she said rolling her eyes trying to push me off.
“six months gone and you come back pregnant? Again? Who’s the father this time?” I asked smiling.
“All my kids have the same father my dear sister, unlike someone I know,someone with four kids from different fathers. I’m here to give mama my lobola letter, because somehow, my baby daddy, now fiancé, knows I’m worth of being his wife. Unlike someone I know who has never been engaged, let alone, being supported by a man during a pregnancy.”
I frowned, felt my anger rising, “Are you talking to me, your big sister, like that?”
I asked because I’m really hoping she’s not disrespecting me like that.
“No, I’m talking to the woman who got pregnant four times for different men who ran away from her once she announced her pregnancy to them, the woman who has kids with an age gap of 1 year, a woman who keeps giving her sister in law burden and keeps insulting her daily because she can’t conceive. One thing I know is that, she’s way better than you.”
“Youre acting like a saint while she’s taking care of your child too.”
“Oh no, she offered. And she’s earning for it. It’s not for free sisi. Never compare yourself to me because I’m also way better than you, big sis. Now get out of my way.” she said pushing me off and she made her way inside our mother’s room.