NURSE THEMBENI
CHAPTER 17
THEMBENI
For a few seconds, I genuinely consider pretending I cannot hear them. Maybe if I stand very still, wrapped in this towel, they will assume I evaporated. Maybe they will question their tracking skills, or maybe they will go home and reflect.
But no, these are my brothers. Men who once found a goat that had been missing for two days but could not find the sugar in their own kitchen. Of course they found me, and obviously with the help of someone in this house.
I didn’t tell Philile where I was going, otherwise the blame would go to her.
Mkhululi is glaring, I swear my brother personally invented anger. All the credit goes to him. Lindani looks disappointed, which is worse, because disappointment from him comes with lectures that feel like school assemblies.
I tighten the towel around me and raise one eyebrow. I’m not going down without a fight.
“Are you two charging people to track fugitives now, or is this a free family service?”
I am a fugitive because living under their authority is prison itself. Neither of them smiles, tough crowd.
“Get dressed,” Mkhululi repeats. “We are not doing this with you”
Not doing what? Free will? I lean against the bedroom door frame.
“I am literally bathing, as you can see. Unless you want to carry me home like this, you will have to wait.”
Behind them, I see Qondi hovering near the lounge, wiping a table. When did she even get there? Nala is on the couch, arms folded, watching us as if she paid for front-row tickets. Interesting.
Lindani exhales, I think he is trying to summon patience.
“Thembeni, this is not a game.” He says.
“I am aware, bhuti. If it were a game, at least I would have been given instructions before being entered into it.”
That just involuntarily escaped my mouth, maybe it’s my brain giving up on all this. Honestly, it’s tiring.
My two fathers, who contributed not even air to my birth look at each other. Oh, they are shocked by my audacity.
“What is wrong with you? Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? And you embarrassed us, KaMajola maan.” Lindani.
“Oh, I embarrassed you? I woke up to cows negotiating my uterus, but yes, let us center your feelings.”
Qondi makes a small choking sound, she wants to support me but also wants to remain alive. Everyone in this village knows how crazy my brothers are. Nala, on the other hand, is silently agreeing with me. I see that nod. Lindani rubs his forehead, he’s irritated.
“We will talk about this later, right now, the uncles are still at home. The Hlongwanes are confused, Chief Menzi’s father is furious.” Lindani.
“Menzi’s father should direct his fury at himself for assuming I was a limited edition product,” I shoot back. “Also, perhaps next time ask the bride if she is available before printing wedding invitations in your head.”
Mkhululi’s eyes flash. “You will not speak like that about elders, Thembeni. Kanti what is wrong with you? What has gotten into you, today?”
“Everyone has gotten into me, and I will speak like that about anyone who discusses my life. Respect is mutual, bhuti. I am not a cow with a certificate of authenticity.”
Somewhere in the lounge, something hits the floor. Someone dropped something. It’s Qondi. Lindani looks at her, she’s still wiping the same spot on the table and somehow dropped a vase.
“Did you encourage this?”
Qondi looks at him so fast she nearly drops the cloth.
“No, bhuti, she arrived here already dramatic. I was sleeping, I did not even brush my teeth.”
Traitor energy that’s politely delivered. How can Qondi say I arrived here already dramatic?
“Bhut’ Lindani, please don’t drag her into this. I ran because I don’t want this marriage. You cannot ambush me with marriage and expect me to respond like I won a trophie.”
“What you’re forgetting Thembeni is that you belong to this family and every decision affects all of us.” Lindani.
“Yes I belong to this family, but you do not own me.”
Nala actually claps once.
“Preach,” she mutters.
Qondi throws her a look that could start a small war. This has Lindani glancing toward the lounge.
“We are not here to negotiate anything with you, Thembeni. Get dressed, we are going home, do not test me.” Mkhululi snaps.
“I am not a child. You cannot drag me out of by force.”
“Watch me.” Mkhululi grabs my arm, dragging me toward the door.
“Bhuti stop, I don’t want to go.”
“I told you, you have no choice. You’re not going to embarrass this family, Thembeni. I won’t let you.”
He’s dragging me with so much force, I can’t even gather the strength to fight back.
“With respect, bhuti,” that’s Nala yelling after us. “You cannot force her. If she does not want to marry the chief, then that is that.”
“Nala, please.” Qondi snaps at her.
How did they find me?
Did someone see me on the road? Did the donkey betray me? Is there a village WhatsApp group called “Tracking Thembeni”?
“I can’t walk home in a bath towel, let me get my dress.”
“Here.” Lindani throws it at me, it lands on my head. “Put it over the towel, we’re not going back inside.”
I hate them.
“My phone is inside.”
They are surrounding me like bees, I won’t even be able to outrun them.
Lindani turns to the open door, “We-lokhunjana, what’s her name again?”
He’s asking me, I’m not talking to him.
“Ntokazi, bring her phone. ” He calls again, and Nala comes running with my phone. She hands it to me.
“Sorry chommie, we’ll come see you later.” She says as I pull my dress over my head.
Mkhululi proceeds to grab my arm and drag me down the street.
.
.
I’m back home, in my room. Lindani is outside, guarding the door. It swings open without so much as a warning knock, and of course it is my partner in crime, Philile, because who else enters a room with such disrespect. Ntando is following behind her.
Philile looks me up and down and clicks her tongue. She’s probably dissappointed that I failed a simple escape.
“So this is how you plan to greet the chief’s family? Looking like you just woke up?”
I’m still wearing Qondi’s dress, but I look better than she assumes.
“I’m not in the mood, Philile, so forgive me if I did not coordinate an outfit.”
She ignores that completely and folds her arms.
“Hayi shem, I tried to help but you’re so dumb, Thembeni. I thought you would run and never look back.”
“Don’t you ever call me that again. I swear I won’t let it slide, I will forget you’re married to my brother.”
“Hau Themi, she didn’t mean it like that.” Ntando comes to her mother’s rescue.
“Your mother means everything she says and does, Ntando. Wena you’re just blinded by her obssession with you.”
She drops her eyes, and says nothing. We’re almost the same age, so we’re practically friends, but it has limits because her loyalty lies with her mother.
“Okay sis’ Thembeni, that is enough. Hau bakithi, you are so sensitive today. Phephisa ke dade. Anyway, the uncles are outside. They are waiting, looks like this is not optional.” Philile says.
“It is optional. That is exactly what I have been saying. I am not marrying Menzi, they can recycle the cows.”
“Themi, I can speak to baba if you like.” Ntando says, as if Mkhululi listens to anyone.
“If you do not want the wedding to happen, then say it clearly, Thembeni. Refuse like you mean it and tell them you will not marry the chief. Nobody can drag you.”
Has she forgotten her brother dragged me here?
“You are absolutely right, Philile. Nobody can drag me. In fact, I have been trying to refuse since day one. It is amazing how supportive you are all of a sudden.”
Her smile looks forced.
“I just believe a woman should choose her own husband.” She says.
“Beautiful,” I say, nodding. “Then let us choose correctly. Ntando, do you want to marry the chief?”
The room goes still. Ntando looks at her mother first, of course she does. Then she looks at me.
“I… I would not mind, it would help the family, and he is not a bad man.” She says.
Philile clears her throat, she wants to act like that answer was accidental.
I clap my hands once. “Perfect, problem solved. Take her to meet her in-laws.”
Philile frowns. “Do not be dramatic.”
“I am not being dramatic,” I say, completely serious. “I am being practical. I have a boyfriend, a living, breathing, confusing boyfriend who is currently not answering his phone and stressing me out.”
Lies.
“I do not want a chief. Ntando does not mind a chief, the chief needs a bride. This is simple mathematics.”
Just then Lindani walks in, with Mkhululi behind him, both wearing those serious faces that mean I am about to be told what to do.
“They are asking for you,” Lindani says. “Come greet them properly.”
I stand up slowly, stretching as if I have all the time in the world.
“Actually, before we continue this circus, let us clear something up. I am not interested in marrying Menzi. However,” I gesture toward Ntando, “we have a willing candidate.”
Mkhululi stares at me. “This is not a job interview.”
“It should be, because I am declining the offer.” I reply.
“She is just confused, it is a lot of pressure.” Philile jumps in, she’s such a good actress.
“No,” I say, looking straight at my brothers. “I am not confused. I do not want to marry him. If tradition needs a girl from this house, Ntando is right here and she does not look like she is planning an escape.”
Ntando blushes but does not deny it.
Lindani exhales. “Thembeni, this was discussed years ago.”
“Yes, when I was practically a child,” I shoot back. “And last time I checked, growth is allowed. Also, I do not remember signing a lifelong contract in crayon.”
Mkhululi rubs his jaw, he is tired of me.
“You are starting again, Thembeni. No Ntando will be marrying into royalty. You are the chosen one, those people did not come here to negotiate alternatives. Don’t you dare embarrass this family.”
“I will embarrass nobody, bhuti. In fact, I am about to save everyone time. I will go out there, I will greet respectfully, and when the topic of my future comes up, I will politely decline. Then you can present Option B.” I gesture again toward Ntando.
She gives me a tiny, nervous smile, and I wink at her because honestly, if she wants the marriage she can have the stress that comes with it.
“Sikhulekile ekhaya!”
There’s a shout outside, I thought they were already invited in.
“Who is that?” Mkhululi asks Lindani.
“Let’s go check,” Lindani says and heads out first.
Philile pushes herself out after her husband, I tail them because this sounds like something I would not want to miss.
There are men at the gate, and an elderly woman. One of the men is holding a leash tied around the necks of a reddish cow and a black one.
“Who are you?” Mkhululi shouts.
I did say he’s always angry. The Hlongwanes have their eyes on the gate, confusion on their faces.
“Ntando, are you still a virgin? Don’t tell me those people are here for you.” Philile snaps at her daughter who swears she’s never been touched.
“Sizocela uxolo ngokufohla esibayeni sakwaMajola.” The man in a suit announces for all the neighbors to hear. (We came to ask for forgiveness for breaking into the Majola kraal.)
Philile’s pulling Ntando’s ears and threatening to k’ill her for letting some boy break her virginity.
“Ma I swear, I’m still a virgin.”
“Wrong house, try next door.” Lindani tells them.
“Is this not the Majola homestead?” The man asks.
“It is.” That’s Lindani.
The uncle smiles. “Then we are at the right place, we are from the Mthunzi family. Sizocela uxolo ngomonakalo owenziwe yindodana yethu uMehlokazulu. Silethe inkomo kamama yokubuyisa isthunzi sentombi uThembeni Majola.” (We came to ask for forgiveness for the damage done by our son. We have brought the cow to restore the maiden, Thembeni Majola’s dignity.)
So this is how God rescues me? By revealing my nonexistent virginity in front of the whole world. The Hlongwane uncles have left their seats, as far as they know, I was supposed to keep myself pure for the chief.
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