uGULUVA Chapter 18

DUBAI.

Mabutho spots his brother from a distance, deep in conversation with his wife as usual. That one never gets tired of talking. A faint smile tugs at his lips as they walk closer. Just then, another car pulls in behind them—Ncanezwe’s.

Amanda’s eyes flick briefly to the vehicle before she leans toward her husband.

“Abuti Nca said he’s not coming,” she whispers, just loud enough for Mabutho to hear.

Mabutho lets out a low chuckle. They’re family—and family always shows up when it matters.

“Maybe he changed his mind,” he replies calmly before raising his voice.

“Bafo!”

Qhawe turns, grinning as he meets Mabutho halfway, their fists colliding in a familiar bump.

“Ndosi omkhulu, sawubona bhuti,” Qhawe says warmly.

“Sawubona, Bafo,” Mabutho responds.

Amanda steps in to greet Kayla, Qhawe’s wife, the women embracing softly as the brothers continue exchanging pleasantries. Before the greetings can fully settle, a car door opens. Then another.

Ncanezwe steps out first—confident, composed as ever. Moments later, a young woman follows him out of the car. Everything stills. All eyes turn in their direction. Ncanezwe waits for her, then reaches for her hand. He leans closer, his voice low, meant only for her.

“Keep it real, MaNzimande. You can do this, mamacita.”

She nods slightly, gripping his hand as they walk toward the group together.

Shock spreads across familiar faces—brothers, sisters-in-law—all stunned into silence. Ncanezwe stops in front of them, a smug smile playing on his lips.

“Sanibonani,” he greets casually.

No one responds immediately. Eyes dart between him and the woman at his side, confusion thick in the air.

Amanda is the first to recover.

“Abuti Nca,” Amanda says, louder, stepping forward with a warm smile that barely hides her curiosity. “Dumela.” (hi)

Ncanezwe nods once, that familiar calm authority sitting on his shoulders. “Sawubona, MaMofokeng.”

His grip on Phindile’s hand tightens just a little, grounding her..Phindile swallows hard. Her heart is beating so loudly she’s sure they can hear it. She forces her shoulders back, lifts her chin the way he taught her. Keep it real.

“Sanibonani,” she adds softly, her voice respectful.

Silence stretches.

Mabutho’s eyes move from Ncanezwe to the woman beside him, sharp and assessing. This is not a man who misses details.

“Hhayi bo…” he finally chuckles, breaking the tension. “So you did change your mind after all.”

Ncanezwe smirks.

“Ngishilo mina, bhuti. I just didn’t say everything.”

(I did say)

Qhawe raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “And you were planning to just surprise us like this?” His gaze flicks to Phindile. “Ngubani lo sisi?”

(Who is this?)

Before Phindile can panic, Ncanezwe speaks. His voice is steady, deliberate. “This is Phindile. Phindile Gwala.” He pauses, then adds, “She’s with me.”

She’s with me. The words land heavy. Amanda’s eyes soften immediately as she looks at Phindile properly now—nervous fingers clutching her handbag, eyes wide but respectful. She steps closer.

“Dumela Phindile. Welcome.” (hi)

“Ngiyabonga, sisi,” Phindile replies, relief washing over her at the kindness.

Kayla smiles too, looping her arm through Qhawe’s.

“Finally,” she teases. “We were starting to think uNcanezwe uzoshada nomsebenzi wakhe.”

(Ncanezwe will marry his job)

Laughter ripples through the group, easing the tight knot in Phindile’s chest. Even Mabutho laughs, shaking his head.

“Dubai brings miracles,” he says, then turns serious as he looks at Ncanezwe.

“But you know us. We don’t like surprises without context.”

Ncanezwe meets his brother’s gaze without flinching. “You’ll get your context. All of it. Just not here.”

He glances down at Phindile, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

“Asingeni yini? She’s tired.”

That simple sentence—she’s tired—said with quiet care, does something to Mabutho. He nods once.

“Kulungile. Let’s go.”

As they start walking toward the house entrance, Phindile stays close to Ncanezwe’s side, her steps matching his. The glass doors slide open, cool air kissing her skin, the luxury of the place almost dizzying.

She leans in slightly, whispering so only he can hear.

“I am okay but I’m scared.”

Ncanezwe doesn’t look at her, but his hand squeezes hers.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Fear keeps you honest. And you’re doing perfectly.”

Phindile exhales, a small smile tugging at her lips. Behind them, Amanda watches the two of them, her curiosity deepening. This wasn’t just a woman brought along for company. This was… intentional. And whatever Ncanezwe had brought to Dubai, it was clear— this trip was about to change more than just the scenery.

*

NCANEZWE CELE.

After the whole saga with MaNkomose, Ncanezwe chose to stay far away from uMlazi—and from women. That chapter of his life leaves its mark. He and his brothers meet back home in Hluhluwe, where they can catch up and just be themselves. But things have changed. Mabutho and Amanda have moved from uMlazi to Durban, carving out their own space. Qhawe remains at uMhlanga Rocks, holding down his corner, while Ncanezwe seeks a fresh start in Johannesburg.

MaNkomose has changed his perspective on women entirely. Bringing Phindile along to this family weekend isn’t about romance—it’s about silencing the endless teasing from his brothers. Let them think what they want. He knows he can’t hold a candle to his brothers when they flaunt their wives. This is about control, discretion, and keeping his secrets intact.

“Welcome, bafo, this is where we’ll be staying for the weekend,” Mabutho says, gesturing grandly as they step into the spacious house. Ncanezwe’s eyes scan the rooms, silently hoping for single rooms. He promised Phindile they wouldn’t share, and he intends to keep that promise.

“MaMofokeng will show the ladies around. BoNdosi, kancane,” Mabutho continues, turning to Ncanezwe and Qhawe. His wife nods, gracefully leading the women away. Now only the men remain, left to wander the patio.

Ncanezwe’s mind stays calm, but he notices Qhawe’s gaze—sharp, inquisitive, almost accusatory. He knows that look; questions are coming, and Qhawe is never subtle.

“Ncanezwe Cele, chaza!” Qhawe’s voice booms as they step onto the patio.

“What exactly needs explaining, Qhawe? That I came with a woman?” Ncanezwe replies smoothly, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He inhales deeply, letting the smoke curl lazily around him.

Qhawe’s eyes narrow. “Yes, that… and does she even know who you are? You’re Nkanyamba—every corner of KZN whispers your name.”

Ncanezwe puffs out his chest slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. This is just a game, a small test of nerves. His brothers don’t need the full truth.

“Qhawe,” he says, holding up a hand, “first thing first: don’t mention anything about me being Nkanyamba. Secondly… we’ve been together for a year now.” His tone is calm, casual, but the weight of his words hangs in the warm air of the patio.

“Wh…” Qhawe catches his words in his throat, disbelief coloring his voice.

“And you didn’t say anything for that year?” Their eldest brother steps closer, shock and disbelief mingling on his face as he tries to process the revelation. Ncanezwe just exhales smoke, watching the storm of reactions unfold. Inside, he is amused. They are his family—but even family has to play by his rules when it comes to secrets.

“Yazi, bafo,” Ncanezwe finally adds with a sly smile, “some things are better seen than explained. Phindile knows… and that’s all that matters.”

Qhawe shakes his head, still incredulous. “I… I can’t believe this. After all this time… she’s been with you all this time?”

“Yes,” Ncanezwe says lightly, flicking ash from his cigarette. “And she’s the only one who matters.”

A pause falls over the patio. Even the wind seems to hush itself as the weight of his words sinks in. His brothers stare, trying to reconcile the man before them with the legend they’ve only ever whispered about.

Mabutho doesn’t say a word. Not yet. He didn’t need to. His mind race. This can’t be real… He has seen Ncanezwe over the years, cold and calculated, always distant when it came to women. And yet, here he was, smugly telling them that he had been with a woman for a year? Mabutho wanted to laugh, wanted to shake his brother and demand proof, but he restrain himself. He knows better than to confront Ncanezwe directly right now.

*

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