NURSE THEMBENI
CHAPTER 28
THEMBENI
I had to go back to the kitchen and finish preparing Mehlo’s food. Apparently, MaPhikela had told them not to continue. By tradition, I had to do it myself.
He had his supper in his room. And then, as if he was not already doing enough, he insisted on sending a cow to my father as a fine. A fine for making me cook for him while we are not married yet. I did not argue with him. Let him send it, let the whole world know that Mehlokazulu does not play about me. We talked some more after supper, I got to know a lot about him, including his actual age. He doesn’t look bad for a 31 year old man. Bab’ Mvula uses his mother’s surname, he changed it while they were in exile, because using Hlongwane was dangerous.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” I ask him as I sit on the bed.
He gives me that naughty smile. It makes me feel warm and embarrassed at the same time.
“This is your room, I should be asking you for permission to sleep here.” He says.
I laugh. “You are so corny. I am going to get my sleepwear and maybe take a bath.”
“You can bath here, with me.”
He is shameless.
I widen my eyes at him. “You are sick, behave yourself.”
“I am only sick in the body, other parts work perfectly fine.” he replies, smiling slowly.
I feel my cheeks heat up.
“I will come back.” I tell him.
Before he can say anything else that will make my heart beat too fast, I slip out of the room. My maidens are still here, they join me as I start my journey down the corridor.
“I am sleeping in Ndabezitha’s room tonight,” I tell them.
They giggle.
“It is innocent, do not think about it like that.”
“We did not say anything, Ndlunkulu,” they say together.
I shake my head but I cannot stop smiling too. Lord! My life is changing so fast, sometimes I do not even recognise it. I will bath in Mehlo’s room, not with him.
Bona, my maiden lays out my nightwear on the bed. It’s ironed perfectly. These girls spoil me, I know it’s their job but that’s how it feels like.
“May we help you dress, Ndlunkulu?” Bona asks, yes I remember their names now. I politely decline her offer, it’s not rocket science.
“Ndlovukazi MaPhikela is at the door.” A voice outside my door says.
Oh God, what does she want now? She has a gift for appearing exactly when I am about to breathe peacefully.
The door opens before I even say come in. She walks in already frowning, that expression is stitched onto her face forever. Her back is straight, stiff with authority. Her eyes move around me. She looks at Ria and Bona as if they are dirt on the floor.
“Maintain distance.”
They step back quickly, almost tripping over themselves to obey her. They create such a big gap between them and her that it looks dramatic and unnecessary. She enjoys this. She enjoys control.
“What is it now, MaPhikela?” I ask, I’m tired.
“You cannot share the room with Ndabezitha until you are married.”
Where did she hear about that? I only told the girls, and no one was in the corridor but us. Right now, I am trying to understand if she is serious or if she just enjoys hearing her own voice.
“But I can cook for him?”
I can stand over a fire for him like a wife, but I cannot sleep beside him like a woman he chose? Where is the logic in that?
She stiffens at my question, as if I have just stepped on her pride.
“You are a child, you do not get to question me.”
Yeah sure I am a child. A child who runs a palace kitchen when she says so. A child who must carry herself like a queen in front of the nation. A child who is old enough to marry a king but not old enough to speak?
“As your future queen, I have every right to question you. And because you refuse to be civil with me, I will pretend you do not exist. You are a very old woman, MaPhikela. And I do not want to find myself disrespecting you.”
That part is true. I am holding back so much.
“So to make sure I secure my place in heaven, I will stay out of your sight. Provided you stay out of mine, MaPhikela.”
It’s late, I want to sleep.
“You are not fit to be queen. Let alone rule alongside Mehlokazulu.”
It takes a lot to shake me, I am not even vibrating at the moment. MaPhikela is a lonely woman, that’s why she stands too close to my man.
“When was the last time you had a man?”
Not my business but some things need to be addressed. MaPhikela’s eyes go wide. Her mouth parts slightly. I know I have crossed into territory she never thought I would dare enter.
I continue, because if she wants to reduce me to a child, then I will remind her I am a woman.
“I can hook you up with my uncle, I cannot promise that he is handsome. But his late wife used to boast about his bedroom perfomance. He will show you a brand new world you did not know existed,” I continue. “Maybe that will also stop you from chasing my man.”
One of my girls gasps. But I am telling the truth, or my former high school Math teacher. I heard he’s still single.
“How dare you!” she barks.
“No, MaPhikela. How dare you bully me in my own man’s palace, just because you hate to see me with him? I did not even do anything to you! Maybe I should tell Mehlo everything. That his nanny is bullying me. Let’s see how he feels about that.”
“I am protecting the kingdom!” she snaps, I have never seen someone blink in defense, she’s doing it.
Protecting the kingdom from what? From me? Yeah right.
“Okay! Do not let me stop you.” I say.
We will see where it will end.
I look at Bona, she picks up my nightwear from the bed and they follow me out of the bedroom. I can feel MaPhikela’s eyes on my back, she probably wishes she could push me down with just a stare.
.
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NGIYABONGA
His heart is beating too fast for a man who prides himself on control. There can’t be a palace in Mnweni Valley. Mehlokazulu is king there? No.
For a second, he considers cancelling everything. Mpondo can wait. If there is a throne rising somewhere without his permission, that is war.
He looks at the woman again.
“Where exactly in Mnweni Valley?”
“I do not know the exact location, baba.”
This is upsetting.
“You came all the way here without an address?” he snaps.
“I did not get an address,” she says.
“Send me the live location,” he says impatiently, already pulling out his phone.
That’s not possible because her live location is Manzana palace.
“I… I cannot, baba. I have never been inside. I only heard…”
“Useless!” he barks.
Why come here and give information without full details? A palace and no location? What is he supposed to do, wander around Mnweni Valley like a lost goat?
He waves his hand dismissively.
“Go. Before I charge you for wasting my time.”
She does not need to be told twice. She stands quickly, bowing again, and disappears through the gate. Ngiyabonga sucks his teeth loudly. Stupid woman.
Going there himself now would be foolish. Mnweni Valley is big, and he cannot drive around like a tourist looking for a hidden kingdom.
He does not look for things, things report to him.
He turns to the guard. “Gather the men.”
The guard signals toward the security quarters.
Ngiyabonga remains standing outside the house, hands behind his back, chin lifted. Within minutes, men begin to gather before him. One by one until six of them stand in front of him, heads bowed.
“Is this all?” he asks.
“Yes,” the lead guard answers.
“Double the number. I want cars moving tonight. I want eyes in Mnweni Valley before sunrise and everything reported back to me.”
Just then, MaNxumalo steps out of the house, wrapping her shawl tighter around herself. She must be wondering why her husband is still here.
“What is going on?” she asks, looking at the sudden activity.
Ngiyabonga is too busy to answer.
“Do not return until you find it. Even if you have to search every stone. Do you hear me?”
“Yebo, Hlongwane.”
He orders them to go and the men scatter all over, climbing into vehicles, one after the other, the cars roll out through the gate and disappear into the night.
Only then does Ngiyabonga turn to his wife.
“There was a girl here claiming Mehlokazulu built himself a new palace somewhere in Mnweni Valley.”
MaNxumalo stares at him for a second, then she laughs.
“That is impossible. A hidden palace, Ngwane? Hayi suka.”
“That was my reaction too.”
“What if it is true?” she asks.
This is the reason she came out of the house, just to add to his problems.
“How would he have done it? When he left Manzana, he had nothing. No army, no support. The community remained here.
“Do not forget, your brother was king of KwaZulu. Not just some village chief.” MaNxumalo says.
Her worry is not for Ngiyabonga, but Menzi. As much as she hates the way Ngiyabonga treats their son, she still believes in the throne. She wants Menzi to be king one day.
If another palace rises… what happens to their son’s future?
“We will talk when I come back, I need to speak to Mpondo before he starts drooling on his wife’s flat chest.”
MaNxumalo does not laugh. She simply shakes her head. She is used to this version of him. The arrogance, the mocking. The constant need to belittle others to feel tall.
“Should I take a herd with me? And pay the bride price once and for all?” Ngiyabonga asks.
“Where have you ever heard such a thing being done? You do not want to upset the ancestors further. You already upset them when you k’illed your brother and his family.”
Then this woman claims she loves him.
“Pho, umemezelani? Why are you shouting?” He snaps.
“I did not even shout.”
He sucks his teeth and walks away without saying goodbye. He gave her a kiss in the house, that should last her two weeks.
.
.
Ngiyabonga’s car rolls into Mpondo’s yard and he immediately notices the three young men sitting outside by the fire. It’s those boys who look like Mpondo.
At night it is impossible to tell them apart. During the day, maybe. But now? They are just three copies of the same stubborn face.
He steps out of the car and walks through the gate, the ground surely recognizes those shoes. Dust won’t even dare. He shouts their clan names loudly as he walks in.
One of them stands up. He cannot tell which one. They all have the same build, same posture.
“Who are you?” One of them calls out.
Ngiyabonga almost rolls his eyes. The tone is rude, too direct and lacks respect. But he forces a chuckle.
“It’s me. Chief Menzi’s father. uHlongwane.”
One of them snorts, the sound is small but disrespectful. The one who is standing extends his hand for a shake.
Ngiyabonga looks at the hand, he does not take it.
It’s been a long day. Where has that hand been? Scratching what? Touching what? He imagines dirt under the nails. Sweat, maybe worse.
He sees all three of them staring at him, they are waiting for him to take this man’s hand. He cannot show disgust, he needs them on his side.
So he slowly takes the hand and shakes it, forcing a polite expression on his face while his stomach churns. This is the oldest, Mkhululi. The moment Mkhululi looks away, Ngiyabonga subtly wipes his palm against his trousers.
“Is Majola home?” Ngiyabonga asks.
“Our father is sleeping.” Mkhululi says.
Not dead, that’s the highlighted word. As long as there is still breath in his lungs, he can be woken up.
“I will not take long.” Ngiyabonga says.
“What is so important that it must be discussed at night and not in the morning?” That’s the younger looking boy.
Ngiyabonga looks at him. The fool is still sitting, he did not even greet him.
“It involves adults, call your father.” He says.
Ngcwele stands abruptly, he looks ready to fight, but Ngiyabonga isn’t, he couldn’t throw a punch to save his life, so he steps away. Besides, he would not want his expensive clothes stained tonight.
“I will call him,” that is the second born, Lindani before he disappears into the house.
Now it’s awkward. The two of them are staring at Ngiyabonga, he almost believes he brought a bad smell with him.
He looks at the fire.
“Nice fire,” this is to break the silence and distract them, because, why are they staring at him?
They frown at him. He clears his throat.
“We have solar panels at home. It’s been so long since I saw original fire.” Ngiyabonga lies.
Where is that boy with his father?
“How is KaMajola? Umakoti wethu?” The fire conversation isn’t working, so why not shift it?
Ngcwele’s reaction is immediate, he charges forward and Ngiyabonga quickly hides behind Mkhululi. Luckily, at that exact moment, Mpondo appears at the door. The old man is walking like a tortoise.
Ngiyabonga forces a wide smile.
“Majola, my old friend!” he calls out cheerfully. “I am sorry to disturb your sleep. Please send my apologies to your beautiful wife.”
He nearly gags at his own words. There is nothing beautiful about that old woman in his eyes. Mpondo does not smile after such a compliment. He has no idea how hard it was for Ngiyabonga to compliment his wife.
“Tell your sons to give us space.” He tells Mpondo
“Hambani, bafana.”
They do not move, all three of them remain standing as if their father did not command them to leave.
Ngiyabonga is shocked. This is disrespectful.
“Hambanini niyolala, bo-boys 2 Men.” Ngiyabonga orders them. (Go to bed.)
No one moves.
“Let us speak in the car,” Ngiyabonga.
Mpondo follows him, but… Oh Shembe! Ubaba! Why is he walking so slow?
“Do not die on the way, phela nawe. At least wait until I pay lobola for your daughter.” A worried Ngiyabonga complains.
Mpondo suddenly stops walking, they have barely taken three steps. The old man turns and looks at him directly.
“What is it now? Did your knees lock?” Ngiyabonga.
“I will do it. I will accept the bride price.” Mpondo says.
For a second, Ngiyabonga thinks he misheard him. Then a wide smile spreads across his face. He almost pats Mpondo on the shoulder, but stops himself. He does not know where that shoulder has been.
“You have done the right thing, Mpondo. See you tomorrow morning, my people will be here first thing.”
He glances back at the sons. They are seated again, but their eyes are still burning holes into him. They all look like they ate hot coals tonight. Mkhululi’s acting strange, he’s not the Mkhululi who followed Menzi around.
“Babhayini, bafana.” Ngiyabonga waves.
They are grown men, but he speaks to them like children. He owes them zero respect.
“Mpondo, my friend. Can I have water with soap? One of your boys shook my hand, now it’s itchy.”
Mpondo only responds with a glare.
Ngiyabonga shrugs. “It’s okay. I have sanitizer in the car.”
He turns and walks to his vehicle, whistling loudly.
.
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My chapters are too long, so I have to cut them in two. That’s why you find the same day in three chapters. We’re moving though.
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