NURSE THEMBENI
CHAPTER 19
THEMBENI
Everyone’s on their knees except my brothers. They are still standing there like idiots, faces twisted in total confusion. They look from the kneeling Hlongwane uncles to Baba who’s actually on his knees, head bowed low, then to this fragile-looking guy leaning on his father and the driver. The Mthunzi people are down too, murmuring “Bayede Ngwane kaNgwadi.”
“What the hell is this? Who is this man? Why are they bowing like he’s Jesus?” Mkhululi complains to Lindani.
“I don’t know, bhuti. But look at Ngiyabonga, he’s nervous. Why is he sweating like that?”
I can’t help it, a small, tired laugh runs up in my chest. It’s not loud, but it’s vocal enough to make Mkhululi shoot me a death glare. I don’t care about him anymore.
Mehlo really looks sick. His shoulders are hunched, and his breathing shallow. What happened to him? Why is he here when he looks like he’s scheduled for his own funeral?
I have so many questions for him, but mostly, I want to touch his face and make sure he’s real.
I leave Baba’s side and start walking toward him. Mkhululi’s hand clamps around my wrist before I get three steps.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m just going to greet him.”
“You’re not going anywhere near that man until we figure out what’s happening.”
I yank my arm.
“Figure it out from over there then, the truth is right before your eyes but you refuse to see it.”
“You’re easily deceived, Thembeni.”
Has he taken a look in the mirror? I’m not going to stop because he said so. Ever felt like you’re losing your mind and there is nothing you can do about it? Yep, that’s me right now. I have never in my life spoken to my brothers the way I have been doing since they found me at Qondi’s house, and it’s a real shocker that Mkhululi has not exercised his back-hand on me. I wish Ngcwele was here, he always makes things easy when these two force me to carry burdens I can’t carry.
“Yey wena, calm down, maan.” That’s Ngiyabonga snapping at someone.
I check and see him grabbing his son’s arm, Menzi does not look okay. I forgot he was standing there, he’s muttering something under his breath. I can’t make out the words, but his face… yoh. He looks like he’s seen a ghost that came back specifically to haunt him. His eyes are wide with terror, his mouth is moving fast. I can’t hear what he’s saying.
“Calm down. Calm. Down.” Ngiyabonga keeps whisper yelling, while his wife MaNxumalo tugs at Menzi’s arm.
“Come son, let’s go to the car. You don’t need to be here.” She says.
I feel suffocated on his behalf. Why are they hovering over him like that?
Menzi shoves her hand off, harder than I’ve ever seen him do to his mother.
“I’m not a child, Ma. Leave me alone.”
That loud shout gets to Ngiyabonga, his face twists in annoyance. He acts like Menzi just embarrassed him in front of important people.
Menzi starts moving, he’s walking straight to Mehlo. I move closer while praying in Hebrew that Menzi does not attack the man who looks like he escaped from the hospital. Seriously, I don’t know what he’s about to do after that virginity revelation. He stands right in front of Mehlo and hugs him like they’re long-lost brothers.
Is that a cease fire?
Mehlo doesn’t hug him back, his arms stay limp at his sides. His face is cold as ice and unreadable, his eyes meet mine and I see his jaw clench. Menzi keeps whispering apologies into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean… forgive me…”
I feel my mouth drop open. What in the actual hell? Is he talking about stealing the throne? Or something else?
Ngiyabonga has had enough, he marches over, grabs Menzi by the back of the shirt like he’s a naughty toddler, and yanks him away.
“Enough of this stupidity! Get a hold of yourself, boy!” He snaps.
Menzi stumbles back, and that’s because Mehlo’s driver just threw a punch at him. His mother screams, catching him half way to the ground. Menzi doesn’t even try putting up a fight, he knows what he did.
“How dare you touch royalty. Do you know who he is?” Ngiyabonga roars at the driver, but he doesn’t get close to him. I can smell his fear all the way here. I need to find out out what’s going on.
I can’t look away from Mehlo. He’s still staring straight ahead, like the hug never happened. But his jaw is tight, something flickers in his eyes, I think it’s anger, or just exhaustion, it’s hard to tell with this one.
“What is going on?”
Mkhululi finally lets go of my wrist, I rub my wrist and take a step. This time nobody stops me.
I walk right up to Mehlo, close enough to smell the hospital smell still clinging to him, I was right. He’s sick.
“Phakade lami.” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“Golide,” I say softly.
His eyes have been on me since he arrived.
“Is that what you call your king? This is a sign that I should let my cousin keep the throne. Angisho KaMajola?”
I roll my eyes and a tiny, cracked smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. First real thing I’ve seen on his face since he got here. I can’t laugh, not when he looks like he’s dying. He’s not even breathing normally.
“Yeah well, you never told me that you’re royalty. It took a dream and all this chaos for me to realize I have been opening my legs for royalty.” I say, crossing my arms to hide how much my hands are shaking.
“Your royal legs, you mean.” he replies with a challenging smile.
I want to roll my eyes again, but he’s laughing now. Things really do change.
“I am not royalty, and what happened to you? You look like death ubered you here and you requested a return.” I say.
I didn’t realise that he’s touching my hand, his thumb is playing behind the back of my hand.
“I will tell you about it, after my father sorts this mess out.” His eyes point around us, the noise has become background. But I know for sure Ngiyabonga is complaining, his voice is all I can hear.
“Next time answer your phone.” I tell Mehlo.
He exhales something that might be a laugh.
“Next time I’ll try not to get poisoned first.” he says.
Poisoned?
Ngiyabonga clears his throat loud.
“This is a private family matter now, we should all go inside and talk properly.”
Mehlo doesn’t even look at him, he just keeps his eyes on me and in that second, with everyone watching, with Menzi looking ready to throw up and my brothers looking lost and the real king standing here half-dead but still standing…
I realise something, I’m the one who’s going to be dragged around in the middle of whatever this is, and I think the middle just found me.
“What is going on? Why is everyone still on their knees for this stranger when the chief is right there?” Mkhululi shouts.
”They will stay on their knees until the king tells them to rise.” Bab’ Mvula says.
I can’t believe this is real, Golide is a king.
“It’s obvious, bhuti. The real king just arrived.” I tell my brother.
He laughs, it’s what he does when he thinks he’s being lied to.
“Impossible.”
“This is the real king of KwaZulu. Mehlokazulu Hlongwane. It was said he was in exile after the fire that killed his parents. Or that he died. But here he is, alive and well.” That came from one of the Hlongwane uncles.
He just pissed Ngiyabonga off.
“Shut up! You’re lying! My son Menzi is the real king, this dark-skinned imposter is nothing but a crook!”
I glance at Mehlo just as he winces, hand pressing to his side like it hurts to breathe.
“Are you okay?” I ask and he nods, it’s a lie. He’s covered in sweat.
“What are you waiting for? Go get the king a chair! Can’t you see he’s not feeling well?”
It’s my ever-opportunist sister in-law, she’s snapping at Ntando, not me. Ntando jumps like she’s been shocked, runs to the tree, grabs one of the plastic chairs so fast she almost trips over her own feet. Poor girl stumbles on the way back and nearly crashes right into Mehlo.
The driver throws his arm out, creating a barrier between them, and takes the chair from her.
“Thank you,” he sets it down and helps Mehlo lower himself into it. Mehlo exhales as if sitting is the hardest thing he’s done all day.
What happened to him? If he was poisoned, what kind of poison is this?
I catch Philile giving Ntando a big thumbs-up and a proud-mama smile. She’s giving me an opportunity to sigh, but I hold it in. Here we go again. Groomed since birth, ready to serve royalty on a platter.
Oh how quick the tables have shifted from Menzi to Mehlo. She now has her eyes on Mehlo for her precious daughter.
“This is ridiculous! Why is this imposter getting special treatment? He is a fraud. Menzi is the true king. Get off your black knees, all of you.” Ngiyabonga keeps yelling, he’s really trying to drown everything out. The people don’t move.
But why hasn’t Mehlo told everyone to get up? Is he trying to prove a point.
“Mehlo, what is going on? Is Menzi related to you? I had a dream about you, you were dressed like a king, but you burnt to ashes.”
Oh great! I have made the sick man worry.
“My father will speak to your father, everything will be sorted out. Then we’ll talk ” He says.
I don’t know what he means by everything.
Mehlo’s father leaves his side and walks straight to Baba. He sits down in front of him on the ground and tells him he can get off his knees, baba sits on his bum.
“Mpondo, kunjani.”
My father responds with a nod. Why is he avoiding Bab’ Mvula’s eyes? I thought they were friends.
“You were the greatest warrior during King Muzingaye’s reign, Mehlokazulu’s father. You know his history better than anyone. Why would you sit there and let these boys believe these lies?”
My father was a what? Hayyi! He looks so thin and old and fragile. I could swear he wouldn’t hurt a fly. How was he a warrior? And why am I hearing about it now?
“KaMajola’s brothers are doing what’s best for her.” Baba says, not looking up to meet bab’ Mvula’s eyes.
Why is he avoiding his gaze so much?
Bab’ Mvula raises an eyebrow, he’s calling this bullshit.
“By lying, Mpondo?”
“No one is lying here! If he’s the true king of KwaZulu, then where has he been all these years? Why only come now to claim the throne?” Ngiyabonga jumps in.
Mehlo lifts his head and looks straight at Ngiyabonga.
“You know why.”
I don’t want him talking anymore, it sounds like he’s running out of breath. Ngiyabonga swallows hard and looks away fast. His hands twitch, I think he wants to punch something or someone.
“We want to do right by your daughter, Mpondo. Accept inkomo for inhlawulo. Then we start lobola negotiations for our queen. The Zulu kingdom cannot function without her, you know the prophesy.” Bab’ Mvula says.
Is he talking about me? Nurse Themi? A whole queen who is needed in the Zulu kingdom? Nah! This must be one of those lucid dreams. I will wake up anytime now.
“Let them in.” My father’s shaky voice frees me from my thoughts.
He just agreed.
“Baba, no! This is all a lie, you’re making a mistake!” Mkhululi protests.
Baba looks at him tired, too tired to open his mouth but he still does.
“I know them, ndodana. That man seated on the chair is inkosi uNgwane KaNgwandi, Mehlokazulu Hlongwane. His father was Muzingaye Hlongwane, a splitting image of him. He died in a fire years ago. Ever since that fire, the ancestors were enraged. They stripped the kingdom of…”
Ngiyabonga cuts him off, screaming. “Mpondo! Mpondo! Stop lying maan, you’re all lying! Guards, arrest them all and sentence them to death.”
“The guards aren’t even here. You’re the one who should be arrested.” One of the uncles says.
“It’s over, Ngiyabonga. You and your family should turn around and leave.” Bab’Mvula says.
Ngiyabonga laughs, it sounds fake. He walks to a chair under the tree where everyone else is gathered and sits down, crossing his leg over the other.
“Nothing is over, my people came here for lobola. Let omnyamana finish with their one cow. My people and I will wait here, I will empty my kraal if I have to. These lobola negotiations are happening today.” Ngiyabonga says.
“But you can’t continue. KaMajola was chosen for the real heir to the throne, Mehlokazulu, and that is who she is going to marry.” Bab’ Mvula stands his ground.
Ngiyabonga laughs. “Over my dead body. You people have no idea who you’re dealing with. For years my son has been ruling this town and you’re turning your backs on him because of this dark demon? Please, start with this inhlawulo nonsense so my son can get his wife.”
Ngiyabonga’s screws are missing, I don’t want his kraal. I don’t want him as my father in-law. I look at Menzi, hoping he’d knock some sense into his father’s head. I mean, he does give off alpha-male vibes. But right now he looks like a chicken rained on.
“The king looks sick, he should rest in the meantime.” That’s Philile mummuring beside me. She taps Ntando on the arm.
“Go prepare your room, Ntando. Change the bedding and put those new ones I bought last week. King Mehlokazulu will rest in your room.”
Classic Philile. Always betting on the winning horse, even if she has to switch saddles mid-race.
I watch Ntando run off like her life depends on it. Girl moves like she’s auditioning for queen already.
“KaMajola,” Ngiyabonga calls, I was about to tell Philile I stop.
“Go get ready, today is your day, ntombi. After inhlawulo from omnyamana, those dark skinned people, it’s your lobola from Menzi. Your father is about to become a rich man. Ithi halala phela, sisi.” Ngiyabonga says.
Halala for what? Is he going to marry me to his son by force?
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