THE CANE OF WEALTH Novel Chapter 1

From the dusty streets of Ivory Park there exist a notorious gangster by the name Mandla Mabaso. They call him Bra Mindlos. He is famous for all kinds of crimes. His family owns a series of car dealership named Mabaso Customs. He comes from a well of family, their wealth is the kind that is passed from one generation to the next but that wasn’t enough for Mindlos. It’s the thing about wealth, once you have it, greed takes over and people want more and more until they find themselves tight to things they don’t know.

Mandla wasn’t satisfied with the five car dealerships owned by his family. He wanted more and that’s when he earned himself the name Bra Mindlos. He ventured into car hijacking. From hijacking he was smuggling diamonds, and lately there are rumours that he is now involved in human trafficking.

Mandla comes from a family of four. His late father Mpendulo Mabaso died in a horrific car accident that claimed him, his wife and his son. Mandla’s brother was in the same car with their parents when they died. Unfortunately Mandla was left an orphan with no sibling as Bongane Mabaso was his only brother. Bongane was younger than him. From his brother’s bloodline, Bongane only fathered a young boy aged 13 by the name Jabulani Mabaso.

Mandla is also a father. He was once married and lived a normal life before greed consumed him. Back then he was married to Nosipho Mabaso who gave him Zenzele Mabaso as their only child.

Nosipho was a wonderful mother and wife but when she started hearing voices in her home and seeing her husband become something she wasn’t prepared or ready to deal with, she packed her bags and left the Mabaso mansion. Mandla was left with Zenzele and Jabulani to raise as his own. And that’s how they have lived, a family of three Mabaso men living their best life.

Mandla – 59

Zenzele – 34

Jabulani – 13

“Makoti?” Mandla smiles expectantly as he sees Precious walk in his study. He is expecting amazing news from his son’s girlfriend. Precious and Zenzele have been dating for a couple of months. There is no marriage on the books but because of Zenzele’s recent eye sight problems, Mandla wants them married as soon as possible. But before that he gave Precious a very serious task that she seems to be failing at and he is seconds to loosing shit with this pale starved looking girl,

Precious’ face is written disappointment once again but Mandla has hope. His son cannot be infertile. He refuse to believe that. Zenzele just doesn’t want to nut in these who8res he buys for him.

“And? Khuluma makoti” (……speak up daughter in law) he is already pissed but he manages to tame his tone,

“It’s negative baba” Precious puts a negative pregnancy test on the table. It’s the fifth one if not the tenth. Mandla asked her one thing, one thing only and that was to fall pregnant with his son’s child before he pays lobola for her but Precious is failing at such a simple task……

“WHO NAMED YOU PRECIOUS?!” he bangs the table,

“HMM? THEY SHOULD HAVE NAMED YOU DISAPPOINTMENT BECAUSE WOW! I’M NOT SURE IF IT’S YOUR BOREHOLE WOMB THAT WON’T CONTAIN HIS SPERM OR ITS ZENZELE’S WEAK AS8S NEEDLE DI8CK THAT REFUSE TO NUT IN YOU BUT I’M DONE WITH THE BOTH OF YOU!” the two are driving him insane!

“Baba please, give me another chance” Precious begs,

“There is no chance here! You failed to give me a grandchild and I’m running out of time. Get off my face I’ll go find my son a willing who8re with a ready womb!” he continues to hit on the poor table like it owes him answers,

Precious jumps out of fear but doesn’t walk out,

“The fuck you waiting for in my office?!” he growls

“I need another chance Baba. Zen and I love each other” Precious pleads,

“Love is not going to give me a grandchild. You two can love each other but I’m going to find myself a woman who’ll drop damn babies like it’s hot. GET OUT!” he barks the last part and Precious runs out of the room with tears streaming down her face.

“Bloody toothpick failing to give me grandchild! No wonder she can’t fall pregnant, she is too thin maan!” he continues to roar on his own as he stands off his chair. Beside his desk he grabs his cane. He doesn’t need a cane for support but you’ll never find Mandla without his cane.

He stands on his cane as he dials his assistant. The phone rings once before it’s answered.

‘Bra Mindlos’ Funani is quick to answer,

‘In my office!’ he growls. His mood is already spoiled for the whole day and anyone who messes with him will feel the heat.

Funani comes in almost running. His office is just beside Mandla’s office at home.

“Bra Mindlos” Funani bows in respect as he stands couple of feet away from Mandla,

“Who is on top of the list from my runners?” Mandla asks. By runners he means his employees. The ones that smuggle diamonds for him mostly.

“Mbatha hasn’t made payment for two months” Funani say,

“How much does he owe me?”

“50k boss” Funani

“What do I know about Mbatha?” he knows nothing about Mbatha but Funani as his assistant should have something to tell him.

“Well Mbatha is a husband and father. He smuggles diamonds for you and runs his tavern with his wife” Funani,

“Does he have a daughter?” Mandla asks,

“He does. He is actually a father of one. His daughter Ntwenhle Mbatha is his only child”

“And how old is this Ntwenhle?” asks Mandla,

“I…….uhm….Sir I’m not sure” Funani stutters,

“I don’t pay you to stutter fool! I pay you to be my brains. Find out everything about this Ntwenhle and tell Boli to get the car ready. We are going to collect my debt from Mbatha. LEAVE!”

Funani runs out of the room.

Mandla is right behind him walking with his cane as he also leaves the study.

He heads straight to the useless son of his. The one that he needs only a son from.

Zenzele sits in his bedroom on a chair facing the window. That’s his favourite chair since he can’t see anymore. No one knows what happened to him. No doctor is able to tell what happened to him. Zenzele grew up a smart boy and was actually his father’s perfect son until he woke up and couldn’t see couple of months ago. He lost his sight in a way that is unexplainable. And his sight brought another darkness in him that drifted him from his father. Since he lost his eye sight Zenzele became his own man away from his father’s escapades and that pisses Mandla more than him being blind.

“Zen” Mandla walks in his room and stands by the door,

Zenzele doesn’t even flinch. He stares out of the window like someone who can see,

“Son I don’t know if you’re not getting Precious pregnant on purpose to piss me off but I know you’re not infertile Zenzele. You’ll give me that child whether you like it or not. Since you and Precious are toying with me, I’m getting you a wife today and you’ll get her pregnant. Do you hear me?”

Silence. Zenzele lost his sight, his humour, his friends and apparently his voice when it only comes to his father because he speaks just fine with Jabu and Precious.

“I’ll have you ra8ped Zenzele if I have to so stop testing me! If you fail to knock up this one I’m getting you, I’m going to tie you on the bed and I’ll have who8res take turns on you and give more than one of your bastards children!”

Zenzele chuckles,

“YOU THINK I’M FUNNY ZENZELE!” he roars. Zenzele knows how to get under his skin.

Another silence.

“When I come back you better be ready to school that di8ck of yours. I don’t know if it’s gone blind as well and doesn’t know what pu8ssy looks like but you’ll give me a son Zenzele. Dark or blue that scrotum of yours will produce a son for me. I’m getting you a Mbatha wife!” and he walks out, leaving Zenzele with a frown on his face.

–

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NTWENHLE MBATHA

Most people say education is the key to success but I beg to differ. Success is what you make of yourself. I know people who didn’t go to school and are doing far great than those that went to school. I Ntwenhle Mbatha I’m inspired by the hustlers. The risk takers who shaped their lives and still made a success out of it.

One day I’ll own a restaurant. My own restaurant. From my step mother’s backroom cooking food for her drunk customers I know I’ll make more of myself one day.

Today is not busy. The drunkards in the shebeen are the local stingy guys. Those who complain that my R30 plate of pap, braai meat and chakalaka is too expensive. I won’t bother myself with cooking because I end up dishing the food to my family and neighbours when they don’t buy.

Tuesdays are always slow. They are days from hell but I’m going to use my day productively. I’ll go do my hair and spoil myself after washing this pots.

“NTWE!” I hear Thabiso’s loud voice call me before I even see him.

The voice gets louder with every step he takes closer to my backroom kitchen and I frown when I realise that he is actually running.

“Ntwe mfana!” he pants barging in my restaurant. Where are his manners? My restaurant might be a backroom kitchen for now but it’s still a restaurant and I expect manners and bonjour behaviour inside it,

“What’s wrong? Why you running like a dog in my place of employment”

“We are in shit!” he finally breathes,

“Shit yani Thabiso?” I ask. Let me tell you about Thabiso. He is my best friend and neighbour. We literally grew up together as we are the same age and both crazy and convinced each other we don’t need school after matric. While I ventured into my own restaurant career Thabiso bought a taxi and became a local taxi driver.

“Ndaba is looking for us!” he say and I feel sweat run down my butt cracks.

“Ndaba?” the name tumbles out of my mouth with my beating heart.

“Ntwana I’m running away. I’m going down to Free State to my aunts. He won’t find me there. I thought I let you know that we have a hit on our heads”

“How the hell did he find us!” I don’t even know why I’m shouting at Thabiso,

“I don’t know Ntwe but you know the rank don’t lie. Amajita at the taxi rank told me that Ndaba is looking for me and you soo…..”

“Sthabi we are dead” my voice trembles,

“Go stay with your uncle in KZN. If we stay here we are both dead” Natal? I’m not ready to go stay in Hlabisa but I have no choice. The further I’m away from Ndaba and his minions, the safer I’ll be.

“Thank you for warning me ntwana, let me go pack up. You’ll drop me at the taxi rank, right?” I know he is not leaving his taxi behind,

“Sho. Be ready in an hour Ntwe” an hour is enough.

I look at my kitchen as Thabiso runs out. I should cry, this is my hard work and I’m saying goodbye to it because of my stupid stupid mistakes with Thabiso. I didn’t start this kitchen from inheritance money. Thabiso didn’t buy his taxi from inheritance money. We both did something stupid and it has now caught up with us.

“Goodbye Ntwe’s kitchen” I mutter my last words to my hard work before I rush to the house.

My home is in the same yard as my parent’s tavern and my kitchen. The good thing is that my parents are always in the tavern and I’m an only child at home so I have enough time on my hands to pack up my necessities and sneak out of here.

I’ll call them and tell them I’m at my uncle’s house when I arrive in KZN. I know if I tell them now they’ll delay me and want me to leave tomorrow. Unfortunately I don’t have time to explain. Ndaba doesn’t give second chances to nobodies who stole from him.

As I literally throw my clothes in my suitcase I’m drawn to a Mabaso black range rover pulling in my yard.

For a moment I stop everything and freeze. Mabaso? And there walks out the one and only Mandla Mabaso. The streets say he is Ndaba’s boss. Right now I know I’m dead. There is no running for me if Ndaba sent his boss to come collect. Two of Mandla’s body guards stands by the gate wearing black from head to toe with unnecessary sunglasses.

The cane man that is feared all over Ivory Park walks to the tavern and I recite an internal prayer. I pray he doesn’t kill my innocent father and step mother.

As I drop on my bed I make peace with whatever fate lies for me but I ask that my parents be spared from my mistakes.

I produce my cell phone from my pants pocket and text my ntwana.

*Bra Mindlos is already here. I am late. Go on and run ntwana and please look after my parents when the dust settles*

I know Thabiso is a very good friend. My parents won’t go to bed hungry if he is still alive.

Maybe I should write my father a letter and explain how I got entangled with the most notorious gangster of Ivory Park while I wait for my fate. Or maybe I shouldn’t. The less he know, the safer he’ll be. I trust Aunty Joyce to take care of him. She is a wonderful step mother. We may have not seen eye to eye when she first came into my life but she grew on me and I wish I had the time to tell her that she……….. my door burst open mid my internal thoughts train and my step mother walks in.

“Aunty Joy?” she looks happy if I’m not mistaken,

“Aunty Joy?” I call again,

“My baby you’re getting married” she turns purple as she grins,

“I am?” I’m no marriage material mina,

“You are. Mandla is here asking for your hand in marriage”

“WHAT?!” as I scream she starts to ululate. I stare at her shocked, looking at her change colours before me. My step mother is a face creamer. She ruined her face with cream and she still continue to use it. Sometimes she is pink, sometimes she is yellow and sometimes she is purple. Her cheeks always differ with her face. They are always red and looks like they are aching. Her creaming face changes colours with her mood. Today as she dances around my room she is purple.

“Get out of those pants Ntwenhle and put on some dress!” she barks after her mini dance.

I’m still shocked at Bra Mindlos wanting to marry me but you know what, being married to the most feared gangster sounds better than dying.

“Do you want me to put make on you?”

“No thank you” I’m quick to decline that offer. My lovely step mother is not only a face creamer but she is also the one line eyebrow drawer make up kind. She is old, I understand that but her make up skills are way way into the 80s. Who still draws one line on their eyebrows and puts on different colour shade eye shadows? I’m fine with my bush eyebrows, cornrows and my jojo tank that won’t go away no matter what I drink.

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