NURSE THEMBENI
CHAPTER 20
THEMBENI
Philile says I should help her in the kitchen, the delegates have to eat. If she’s talking about Ngiyabonga and his people, I’m not getting involved. I have made it clear that I will not be marrying Menzi and I stand on that decision.
“Tell Ntando to help you, she’s more than willing.”
“Hayyi, Thembeni. Chief Menzi is here for you, you’re getting married sisi. In fact, don’t worry about the pots, Ntando and I will take care of it. Wena, just go and change ntombi. Make sure you look beautiful for the chief.”
She throws her arms around me.
“Oh I’m so happy for you, if anyone told me that this is the Thembeni who used to run around this yard in her panties and snort hanging from her nose, I wouldn’t believe it.”
She just had to yell that part, Mehlo’s close and he’s heard everything. I’m swallowed by a wave of shame.
Yeah I always cared what he thought, I still would care about this disturbing piece of information being leaked if he was still my sugar daddy.
“Stop lying, that was Ntando, not me.” I protest.
She claps her hands, very dramatically.
“Never, my Ntando has always been a princess in the making. She doesn’t even know how snort feels like running down her nose. She would make a great queen.”
I see what she’s doing really. This is another audition for Mehlokazulu. My worry flies out the window at the loud thud behind me and when I turn, Mehlo is on the ground.
His body jerking hard against the dust, arms stiff, legs kicking in a way that doesn’t look human. For a second I just stare because my mind refuses to accept what my eyes are showing me. Then training takes over and everything else disappears.
By the time I drop to my knees beside him, Philile is already there, crying loudly and calling him “Ngonyama kaZulu! Hawwu bakithi Isilo samabandla onke. Silo sakaNgwane.” (The Lion of all the Zulu nations.)
When did she upgrade to that? Menzi has never received such dignified titles from her.
“Ndabezitha!” The driver calls, trying to hold him down by grabbing his shoulders.
“Please don’t die, Ndabezitha.” Philile continues to fake cry, rocking back and forth like she’s losing her husband.
“He’s not dying,” I snap, though I’m not completely sure of that. “Move back and give him space.”
Thank God for Mkhululi, he grabs his wife’s hand and pulls her away. I take her place, Mehlo’s jaw is clenched tight, his breathing is uneven. There’s sweat running down his temples, soaking into his collar. When I touch his shoulder, his whole body feels rigid under my hand.
“Turn him on his side,” I tell the driver, and he helps me carefully roll him. At least he won’t choke.
Philile stops crying long enough to look offended that I’m giving instructions in her husband’s yard, but I don’t care. This is not about her ambitions or her daughter’s freshly changed bedding.
“You see now? This is the king you want? A weak man who faints while seated, and you expect us to hand over the throne to a man who collapses in the middle of negotiations?”
I wish Ngiyabonga would choke on his tongue for once. He doesn’t even sound concerned, but pleased and amused. I ignore him because if I answer him right now, I will say something I cannot take back.
“Ngwane. Masumpa. Masenga sileka. Nduku zinobulongwe. Zikhali ezingalingani nezamaxhegwana. Nina bakaSangweni.” Bab’ Mvula is loudly reciting the Hlongwane clan names, he’s making his way here.
It sounds weird and wrong for me because I know Mehlo as Mthunzi, not from the Ngwane clan.
The louder his father recites the clan names, the more Mehlo’s body continues to jerk. Is he dying? I’m a nurse, I’m supposed to know what to do next and help him. But I’m frozen and busy swallowing a lump.
“He hinted that he was poisoned, we have to get him to the hospital.” I tell Bab’Mvula as he lowers himself beside me.
“No my child, we are from the hospital. They can’t help him, what they gave him was supposed to kill him. Only isintu can remove the poison.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There is someone who can help him, not doctors.” He says.
I don’t know what Bab’ Mvula means by that, we’ve dealt with poisoned patients before, some survived, others didn’t. It all depended on how lethal the poison was.
Mehlo’s seizure is slowing, his breaths are shallow and too fast. I lean closer, watching his chest, counting without even meaning to. His skin is warm, and that gives me hope that he’s nowhere close to death.
“Has this happened today?” I ask his father.
“Yes, before we left the hospital.”
And they left the hospital? Are they trying to kill him? How can Mehlo be so irresponsible? His movements finally ease, leaving him limp and frighteningly still. His eyelashes flutter but he doesn’t open his eyes fully. I press my fingers lightly against his neck to feel his pulse. It’s there, fast, but there. Relief washes through me, but it doesn’t last because Ngiyabonga claps his hands loudly, drawing attention back to himself.
“Well, since the so-called king is unwell, let his people take him away. We are still here for lobola. Mpondo, culture does not wait for sick boys.” Ngiyabonga says.
I look up. Menzi is standing a few steps away, he looks shaken, almost frightened, and he refuses to meet my eyes. Something about that bothers me more than Ngiyabonga’s noise.
“Mvikeli, help me take him to the car.” Bab’ Mvula says to the driver.
That’s his name, he does look like a defender with those thick arms and puffed up chest. Bab’ Mvula grabs Mehlo’s legs, while Mvikela takes his shoulders. Menzi runs to help, I stand in his way, slightly pushing him back.
“Don’t you dare go anywhere near him.” I say.
Hurt flashes in his eyes.
“He’s my cousin, I want to help.”
“Menzi, don’t make me scream out your crimes in front of everyone.”
Why does he look shocked? Is it not obvious that he did this to his so-called cousin.
“Themb…”
“ I don’t want to talk to you, right now.”
I should have shoved him harder. This is all his doing. That stupid hug and apology was a give away. He did this to Mehlo.
The driver and Bab’ Mvula lift Mehlo carefully. His head tilts toward me as they carry him, and his eyes open just enough to find mine. There is frustration there and anger.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, which is clearly a lie.
“You’re not,” I answer.
Bab’ Mvula and Mvikeli succeed in putting a sick Mehlo in the car, I want to go with them, to see where they are taking him, in case a nurse is needed. Because I know they are not taking him to the hospital. I turn to face my father, I hate that he hasn’t said anything to Ngiyabonga. And my brothers, they are so useless right now.
They heard the truth, but they are just there like lost sheep.
“Baba, I am not getting married today.” There’s no shouting in my voice, I respect this man more than anything.
Ngiyabonga laughs and it’s so dismissive.
“You don’t decide that, ntombi. Men speak and elders agree, you have no say.”
“I decide who I marry, and I already said I do not want Menzi.”
Menzi finally looks up, he only argues with his hard expression and wrinkles that have formed just above the bridge of his nose.
“Are you going to force me to marry you?” I ask him.
His eyebrows continue to pull together.
“You’re my wife, KaMajola. We have known this for years.” He says.
This kind of shock is new to me, I want to protest, tell him where to find the nearest river to drown in, but Mvikeli has started the car.
“Leave my son alone and take umnyamane to the hospital. Run after him, but when you come back, we will finish what we started. My son will not leave here without his wife.” Ngiyabonga says.
His confidence irritates me because it means he believes my no is temporary. He thinks a sick rival solves his problem, my biggest fear is my brother agreeing to this in my absence. I look at Mkhululi, there is nothing worth reading on his face, just bottomless nothing.
“If anything happens to Mehlo, this won’t end the way you think.” I tell Ngiyabonga.
For a brief second, something flickers across his face. It’s calculation, he’s got something up his sleeve.
“Phakade lami.” It’s Mehlo calling me.
I run toward the vehicle, wherever we are going will either take us an hour, or two. That’s how far Manzana is from everything. So this gives me enough time to ask Bab’ Mvula questions about who I am to this family and why the war to marry me.
.
.
MENZI
The car is gone, Thembeni climbed in without looking back. Thanks to my father, she has lost hope in me. The yard feels empty now, even though it’s full of people. The Mthunzi elders are still near the gate with their cow, everyone was on their knees until Mehlo was driven out of these promises, even when he collapsed, not even one soul dared to stand.
How come I have never gotten such courtesy? I have led these people for so many years, and this is how they treat me? Clearly they don’t see me as isilo labo and marrying Thembeni would have changed that. Maybe it’s a good thing that my father’s forcing this marriage. I’m not ready to let her go, how can I when I have so much planned for us.
Looks like the Mthunzi people will be here until they are acknowledged, they refuse to give up.
“I will wait in the car, it’s too dusty out here.” My mother says before heading to the car, she looks like she’s had enough of this place.
She knows her husband has this under control.
“Look at this,” baba says, arms wide, turning in a slow circle so everyone can see him. “The so-called king collapses in the middle of the yard. One minute he’s sitting there acting strong, the next he’s on the ground shaking like a leaf. Is this what you want ruling over you? A man who can’t even finish a conversation without falling apart?”
He knows why Mehlo convulsed, we did that to him. It’s a miracle he survived.
A few of the Hlongwane uncles shift uncomfortably, they’re on their feet now, and they don’t argue with my father.
“My son has been here for years, keeping the throne strong and taking care of his people. When the throne needed someone after the fire, when Mehlokazulu ran away and abandoned everything, Menzi stepped up. He didn’t hide, or disappear, he was here to rule the AmaNgwane people. He kept the peace, he kept the people fed, and now you want to throw that away for a sick boy who shows up once and falls over? What if he dies on his way to the hospital? Will my son win your rotten loyalty back?”
Silence.
“Nidakiwe! You all saw that boy, death is calling him. He won’t be here for too long.”
I’m out here listening, arms folded tight across my chest. My stomach is still churning from earlier, the hug I gave Mehlo was not planned. Guilt took over me and I couldn’t resist.
I meant every sorry though, I really did. But Baba’s words are twisting everything, making it sound like Mehlo is weak, like I’m the hero. I’m not, I know what I did. I know the pill, the waitress, the car. I remember the body on the road, and now I know Mehlo might die because of it, because of us.
Yes I want the throne and I want Thembeni, but not like this, soaked in blood and lies. But I also don’t want to lose it, not completely. It’s all I’ve known, it’s my identity, it’s who people call me… Chief Menzi, the one who holds things together. If it goes to Mehlo… what am I then?
Baba catches my eye. He gives me a small nod, like I’m supposed to join in. I don’t move. What will I say? He turns to the others again.
“Think about it… that boy ran when things got tough.” He says.
“Because he had no choice, he was just a child.” It’s from The Mthunzi people.
My father shoots them a glare and chooses to ignore them.
“No one wants to be ruled by a king who runs when things get hard, and comes back sick and shaking with his life hanging by a thread. Choose a leader who stayed, who never left you. That’s chief Menzi Hlongwane.”
A couple of the older men nod, not all of them. But it’s a good number to put me first in line. Baba sees it too, his shoulders relax a little.
He looks at Bab’ Mpondo. “Mpondo, come. Let’s talk alone.”
Bab’ Mpondo’s face turns into a soft frown, he looks tired, older than I’ve ever seen him.
“What do you want with my father?” Lindani asks.
“Relax, we’re just going to talk, father-to-father.” Baba says.
Lindani backs off, he and Mkhululi watch their father follow mine to the side of the house, away from the crowd.
“Son, come sit with me.” My mother calls.
I ignore her, I don’t want company right now. I want to hear what Baba says next.
I move closer, staying out of sight behind the corner. I can hear them clearly.
“Mpondo, you’re a smart man. You’ve seen how things work. Your daughter is beautiful, she’ll make a good wife. But Mehlokazulu is not stable, you saw him today. What kind of life is that for her? My son is strong, he has the support of the people. He can give her a good home, respect, everything.”
Bab’ Mpondo is quiet for a long time.
“KaMajola has already said no.”
“She’s young, emotional. She’ll come around when she sees what’s best for her.” My father says.
“Stop pretending, Ngiyabonga. The only reason you want my daughter is because you want the wealth that was stripped off from the palace when you killed your brother and his family. You know the Ngwane ancestors will favour who she marries.”
Bab’ Mpondo didn’t have to be that harsh. I’m still standing against the wall, trying to breathe through the nausea when I hear Baba laugh, I edge closer, staying hidden, because if I don’t hear the rest I’ll go mad wondering.
“Mpondo, let’s not pretend with each other. You were there that night. You stood guard outside the house while I went in with the petrol. You knew exactly what was happening, you helped keep watch so no one interrupted. You even moved the ladder so the windows stayed blocked. Don’t act like your hands are clean now.”
Baba is accusing him of helping? I wait for Bab’ Mpondo to shout back, to deny it, to call him a liar. But there’s only silence, long, heavy silence.
“I didn’t know you were going to burn them all alive, Ngiyabonga. You said only Muzingaye was in the house. When I heard screams, I went in there and could only rescue Mehlokazulu.”
Baba laughs. “You didn’t shout for help, did you? You rescued that boy, and when the news came the next day, you kept quiet. You let the story spread that it was an electrical fault. You let Mehlokazulu think his parents died in a tragedy, not a murder. So don’t stand there acting holy now. Your silence made you part of it, you helped Mpondo. You chose your family over the truth back then. Choose again now, Mpondo. It’s not hard the second time.”
Bab’ Mpondo exhales like the air hurts.
“I chose my children, I chose to protect them from what you were becoming. If I had spoken, you would have come for us next. You would have burned my house too.”
“And I still can,” Baba says kindly. “Or I can tell Mehlokazulu the whole story. How his father’s greatest warrior/old friend was an accomplice to his parent’s murder. How that same friend raised a daughter who now wants to marry the son of the man he killed. Do you think he’ll touch her after that?”
Another long pause.
“What do you want from me?” Bab’ Mpondo finally speaks.
“Accept Menzi’s lobola, let Thembeni marry him. Keep your mouth shut about the fire. We both walk away with what we need, your family gets protection and cattle, mine gets the throne and the girl. Or I open my mouth, and we both lose everything. Umnyamane won’t just take the throne, he’ll take revenge on you, on her and on all of us.”
I press my back harder against the wall. My hands are shaking so bad I have to clasp them together. Baba is bluffing about some of it, he has to be. But the part about Mpondo helping him kill Mehlo’s parents, that part sounds real.
And if it’s true, then Bab’ Mpondo has been carrying this guilt for years.
And yes, Mehlo will want to avenge his parents.
Thembeni is probably holding Mehlo’s hand, thinking he’s the good one, the real king, the hero who came back. If she ever finds out her own father was outside while Mehlo’s parents burned… it’ll break her. And if Mehlo finds out, he’ll hate her family. Hate her by extension.
Baba’s winning this conversation, he always does. He turns guilt into a weapon.
“Give me time, let me think.”
“You have until tomorrow, after that I will tell Holy Ash everything.” Baba says.
Footsteps. Baba’s walking away. Bab’ Mpondo stays where he is, I can hear him breathing hard, like he’s fighting not to cry.
.
.
Sponsored by anonymous
600+ comments