BE MINE, MS LAWYER
– CHAPTER 5
NOMBUSO
I am sitting at my small dining table, and the smell of McDonald’s fries is still in the air. I didn’t have the energy to cook tonight, so a burger was the only way to go. But even though my stomach is full, my mind is racing. I have the Sibinda files spread out everywhere. It is a very hard case, but I have to win it. I need this win for my name…… Suddenly, a loud knock hits my door….. I jump a little and look at the clock. It is late. Who is coming to my apartment at this time?
“Who is that?” I call out, my voice a bit shaky.
“It’s me, mngani,” a voice answers. It’s Malime.
I frown. Malime? At this time? I walk to the door and pull it open. “Hey, mngani…” I start to say, but then I stop….he isn’t alone. Qaphela is right behind him “Hey guys,” I say, stepping back so they can come in. “Is everything okay?”
“Can we come in?” Qaphela asks. His voice is deep and very serious.
“Yeah, sure.” I move out of the way, and they walk into my lounge. I close the door and lock it….. I feel a bit nervous….I don’t know why…. I go to my table and start picking up my papers. “You found me working,” I say, trying to make the mood lighter.
“I can tell,” Malime says. He looks at my messy table and sighs…..
I close my laptop and sit down on the sofa. I look at them both. “Is everything okay?”
Malime looks at Qaphela, then back at me. “I wish I could say it was…..But you know tomorrow is the hearing for Mkhonto.”
I nod slowly. “Yes. I know. Did you end up finding a lawyer for him?”
Malime shakes his head. He looks defeated. “No. They don’t want to take the case. They hear the name Shabalala and they run away. They say it is too dangerous for their careers.”
“Oh my god…” I whisper. “This is bad, mngani. This is very bad.”
“Yeah, it is,” Malime says. “And the worst part is Mkhonto….. He is so stubborn. He still wants to stand there and defend himself tomorrow.”
I feel my eyes go wide. “He cannot do that! Is he crazy? The judge will eat him alive. The state lawyers are professionals. They will trap him with words and he won’t know how to get out. He will go to jail for life.”
Qaphela leans forward. He looks me straight in the eyes. “That’s why we are here, Nombuso.”
I pause. My heart starts to beat faster. “O…okay?”
Malime reaches out and touches my hand. “We want you to represent him, mngani.”
I let out a small, nervous chuckle. I look at them like they are joking. “Mngani… what?”
“I mean it,” Malime says. “You know us more than anyone. You are family. You know the truth about how things work….”
I stand up and start pacing the room. “Mngani, I’m sorry….. I really am. But I can’t do it. It’s already too late! The trial is tomorrow morning. I haven’t even read the docket. I don’t know the evidence.”
“Nombuso…” Qaphela says, his voice like stone. “There is no one we trust other than you….. These other lawyers just want money. You actually care.”
“I know, and you guys know I love you so much,” I say, turning to face them. “But I can’t just jump and take this case. I am a professional. I am also dealing with the Sibinda case right now….. It is taking all my time.” I take a deep breath. “And there is the biggest problem….. Mr. Smith. He is my boss. He is the only person who assigns me to cases. I can’t just show up in court for a Shabalala without his permission. He would fire me on the spot.”
Qaphela stands up too. He is much taller than me, “Nombuso, we can’t let Mkhonto go to jail. He has kids. He has a life. He is the head of this family.”
Malime looks at me…. “Mngani… just think about this. This case is impossible, right? Everyone is scared. But if you take it and you crack the impossible… it could change your whole career. You would be the most famous lawyer in Durban.”
“Mngani, don’t do that,” I say, shaking my head.
Malime looks at me. “Don’t do what? I’m speaking facts. You want to be a top lawyer? This is the door.”
“Guys, I’m sorry,” I say, and I feel a lump in my throat. I hate saying no to them. “I wish I could help, but my hands are tied. Only Mr. Smith can put me on a case like this, and it is already too late to ask him. It’s midnight!”
Qaphela looks at Malime. He looks cold now. The hope is gone from his face. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”
“Im really sorry, guys,” I say, following them to the door.
Qaphela stops and looks back at me. “You’re not the first person to disappoint us today, Nombuso. But please… just think about what is happening to a man who was fighting for his family…..” I sigh, feeling the guilt heavy in my chest. They both get up to leave.
“Thank you for your time,” Malime says….
“I’m really sorry,” I repeat. I feel so small.
Malime looks at me…. “You said… he cannot appear tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I answer. “You have to find him a lawyer first….. Anyone. Just not him standing there by himself. It looks bad to the judge.”
“Can’t you do anything about that?” Malime asks. “You’re a lawyer. We know nothing about the rules. Can’t you just ask the judge for more time?”
I look at them and shake my head. “I don’t know….. The date is set. Or… maybe he should just plea guilty to a smaller charge to save time?”
Qaphela lets out a dry, angry chuckle. “Plea guilty? You’re out of your mind, Nombuso….. We will see what we will do.”
“Baby…” Malime says, trying to calm him down.
“Let’s go,” Qaphela says. He doesn’t even look at me again.
Malime nods at me sadly, and they walk out. I stand by the door, watching them go down the hallway.
“Please call me!” I shout after them.
“Okay,” Malime calls back, but he doesn’t turn around… I close the door and lean against it….
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MALIME
To say I am disappointed is an understatement. My heart feels like a lead weight in my chest as we walk away from Nombuso’s door. I really thought she would help us. I thought our friendship meant more than her stats and her boss.
We get inside the car, and the silence is loud. Suddenly, Qaphela punches the steering wheel so hard the horn makes a short beep. “Damn it!” he growls.
Mkhokheli is sitting in the back seat. He leans forward. “What did she say? Is she in or out?”
“She cannot do it,” I say, looking out the window at the dark street. “She says it’s too late and her boss won’t let her.”
Mkhokheli lets out a dry chuckle. “Okay. So what now? We just let Bhut’omdala [Big brother] stand there tomorrow like a target?”
We sit in the car for a long moment. The engine is off, but the tension is high. Finally, Qaphela looks at his brother in the rearview mirror. “We don’t have any other choice. We have to go back to Ntshangase.”
Mkhokheli shakes his head fast. “Ntshangase? That snake? He wants Mkhonto to plea guilty! He wants him to rot in jail for twenty years!”
“Can we just hear him out?” I ask, trying to be the voice of reason. “Let’s hear the pros and cons of this plea thing. Maybe he can at least get us a new date.”
“Maybe there is something he can do if we lean on him a little,” Qaphela says, his eyes turning dark…..
“That’s a good plan,” I agree. “The trial happens in a few hours. We don’t have time to be picky. Start the car, Qaphela.”
Qaphela looks at us both. His face is like stone. “I did not want to kill anyone tonight… but if I have to make a lawyer ‘understand’ his job, I will.”
“Qaphela…” I say softly, touching his arm. He looks at me, takes a deep breath, and starts the car.
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We drive through the quiet streets until we reach Ntshangase’s house. It’s a big, fancy house in a quiet suburb paid for by our money, I’m sure. We park the car and look around. The lights are all off…..
“Okay… so do we shout or knock?” I ask, stepping out of the car. I don’t even get an answer because Mkhokheli is already climbing the gate. “Mkhokheli!” I whisper yell.
Qaphela grabs my waist. “We don’t have a key, bambolwami [my love]. Come.”
“This is trespassing, guys!” I say, but I’m already reaching for the bars. I’m a hotel owner, not a criminal, but for this family, I will climb any wall. Mkhokheli jumps down on the other side and waves us over. I hike up my pants and climb over, nearly tripping.
We walk to the front door. Mkhokheli takes a small metal tool out of his pocket. In two seconds, the door opens….
My eyes pop out. “You can pick locks?” Mkhokheli just winks. The house is pitch black. I stay near the door. “I will stand here,” I whisper.
“Come,” Qaphela says, pulling me inside.
We walk into the lounge, and suddenly, we hear footsteps coming down the stairs. The lights flash on, blinding me for a second. Ntshangase is standing there in his pyjamas, holding a heavy glass vase like a weapon. When he sees who it is, his face goes white. He starts shaking.
“What… what are you doing in my house?” he whispers, his voice cracking.
“Baby? Are you okay?” a woman’s voice calls from upstairs.
Ntshangase looks up the stairs, terrified. “Yes, baby! Yes! It’s… it’s just a rat. Go back to sleep!”
He looks back at us. Qaphela steps into his space. “We have to talk.”
“Isn’t Mr. Shabalala’s trial tomorrow morning?” Ntshangase asks, sweating.
“That’s why we are here,” Mkhokheli says, looking around the fancy room. “Where do we sit?”
Ntshangase points to the sofa with a shaking hand. We sit down. Qaphela leans forward, his hands on his knees. “We are struggling to find a lawyer for Mkhonto. Nobody wants the case.”
“Why are you telling me?” Ntshangase asks. “I’m no longer his lawyer. He fired me, remember?”
“But you took our money,” Qaphela reminds him. The room feels very small and very cold.
“Yes, but that was before…”
I interrupt him. “Is there anything you can do, Ntshangase? Anything at all?”
“No,” he says. “If he doesn’t want me, the court won’t force me.”
Mkhokheli stands up and walks behind Ntshangase. “You will represent him tomorrow. You will go to that court and tell the judge you need a new date a postponement until we find someone who wants to take this case seriously.”
“I can’t just…” Ntshangase starts to argue, but Qaphela stands up too.
“Don’t say can’t,” Qaphela says. “Say I will. Because if you don’t show up, we will come back to this house. And next time, we won’t bring Malime to keep us calm.”
Ntshangase gulps. “Okay. Okay! I will ask for a postponement. But the judge might say no.”
“Then we talk about this plea guilty thing,” I say. “Tell me exactly how it works.”
Ntshangase wipes his forehead. “Look, the evidence is bad. If Mkhonto pleads guilty to the murders, he can get a plea bargain….. It means he admits he did it, and in return, the judge gives him 20 years instead of life. With good behavior, he could be out in 15.”
I feel sick. “Fifteen years? His sons will be a grown at that time! He will be an old man!”
“If he fights and loses,” Ntshangase says, “he gets life. He never comes out. Those are the rules.” I look at Qaphela. I am not happy about this. None of us are….
“We will see you tomorrow,” Qaphela says. He reaches out and takes a green apple from a bowl on the table. He takes a loud bite. “Don’t be late.”
“Can you open the gate?” I ask, looking at my scratched hands. “Yhoo, I nearly fell earlier.”
Ntshangase looks at me, then at the two brothers, and just nods. “Okay. I’ll open it.”
We walk out the front door and through the gate like normal people. But as we get into the car, I look at the clock. The sun is going to come up soon……..
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