UMFAZI WAKWA NDWANDWE
WRITTEN BY L. P. MBHELE
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_KAGOENTLE NDWANDWE_
He walked out of the shower. Since we came back from the hospital, he had never said anything to me, not to mention look at me. I guess it’s because of how I acted. They found MaCele innocent because why would she damage her own car just to kill Cebo? It wouldn’t make sense, even if the police had suggested that. I sighed, looking at Nhlanzeko as his back was facing me. I got out of bed; my December can’t start like this.
I crawled to him and held his broad shoulders. He tensed up as my skin made contact with him. I lowered my head to plant a kiss on his shoulder. He sat up straight, not moving an inch of his body. “Mkhatshwa,” he sighed as I started moving my hands on his shoulders, more like massaging them. “Mmmh,” that was the coldest—no, the most cold response I’ve ever received in my entire life. “Are we fighting?” I asked softly.
Since his eyes were closed, showing he was enjoying the massage, he opened them slowly, then turned to look at me. “Cha mama, kungani ucabanga kanjalo?” (No mama, why are you thinking like that?) I shook my head as I sat next to him. He took my hand in his. “Kago, how can I help you if you’re not talking to me? I can see something is weighing on you; yini inkinga?” But from the sound of his voice, he was annoyed. I didn’t know where to start. What if he wouldn’t believe me? I mean, MaShandu and MaCele had been staying together for years, and nothing like this had happened. Maybe I’m wrong.
I shook my head again. “It’s nothing, Ndwandwe. I’m just stressed about my university applications.” He looked at me with one brow raised. “Sesikhuluma amanga yini mama? Are we lying to each other now?” I sighed and shook my head. “Uzongisiza keh ndoni Yami ungitshele kwenzenjani” (You will help me and tell me what’s wrong). The way he was so calm, and his voice so soft, made me want to tell him what was on my mind, because what if I didn’t say anything and something worse happened to someone?
“You remember the night we had dinner here?” *He nodded.* “That’s when it all started. I went to put the dishes in the main house when I heard someone talking on the phone. This woman was talking to someone about killing someone who is also a woman. I didn’t know who she was or who she was talking to. So when I heard footsteps coming to the kitchen, I walked out of the house and came in here, but something told me to look behind me.”
I swallowed while looking at him. He looked so interested in what I was saying. I prayed to God, please don’t let him think I’m making it all up. “When I turned to look, I saw… I saw MaShandu going to open the gate, but I couldn’t see who she was opening the gate for because you came out, remember?” *He nodded slowly, and it looked like he was thinking about something.* “Yeah, so I didn’t take that seriously, but Bhuti Cebo got in an accident while he was using MaCele’s car. Then the next thing, MaShandu insulted MaCele, calling her names, asking her why she would want to kill her son.”
“Ndwandwe, if you think it through and put the pieces together, you can see what I see. I’m not saying MaShandu was trying to kill MaCele, but the way it is, it only makes sense when I think like this. I tried thinking about it another way, but…” I didn’t continue my sentence; I only shrugged my shoulders. He looked at me more like he was deep in thought. “The police said the brakes were damaged,” he whispered. I didn’t know if he meant to say that or what. He looked at me again, then sighed. “I will get to the bottom of this.” A knock disturbed us; Nhla told the person to come in.
Bhuti Mfiso walked in. The Ndwandwe brothers are a snack, if I may say so. Not that I’ll sleep with them or have a lust for them, just some compliments here and there. “Aww bafo,” they did a bro hug before turning to me. “Mfazi wethu,” I smiled, greeting him back. “Bathi anginitshele dinner is ready,” Nhlanzeko nodded, looking at him. “Where were you, Wena, because you didn’t come to the hospital?” Mfiso smiled mischievously. “I was out with a mama bafo; I knew my blood wouldn’t be needed, so why should I come by?” He chuckled, then walked out.
_ZIYANDA MTUNGWA_
I’m standing outside his tall gate. I know they won’t open the gate for me before announcing who I am. I pressed the intercom near the gate. “Hey, it’s Ziyanda Mtungwa.” They went silent for a minute. “How may I help you, Ziyanda?” I don’t recognize this woman’s voice. Did he already get married, or is this his girlfriend? “I’m here for Nhlanzeko Ndwandwe; please tell him Ziyanda is looking for him.” The woman went quiet again, but this time it was short.
“Mr. Ndwandwe is not here; he went back to KZN after his marriage.” My head spun. I felt like my chest was closing in, and I couldn’t breathe. “Ma… marriage?” “Yes, uhhm Miss Mtungwa, but I will let him know when he comes back.” I walked away from the gate in slow motion to my car. So he never loved me. I ruined my chances of becoming Mrs. Ndwandwe with Phiwa, thinking Nhlanzeko would look my way. Kanti I was fooling myself. No matter what, no matter who, nothing will come between us, baby, not when I’m carrying your heir here.
Whoever the girl is, she will have to learn to share, or she will have to get out because Ziyanda is in the building. No one will take what is mine and then live to tell the story. A call disturbed me; it was my mother. Ohhh, this woman—I’m sure she can feel when something is wrong. “My beautiful mother.”
📱”Ziyanda, where are you?”
“Ohhh mother, not even a sawubona, ngane yami. Unjani, Sisi wuuu, ayii I give up shem” (Hello my child, how are you sister?).
📱”Yey, kahle bo wena, silana kwakho njeh. Sime ngaphandle and sikhathe, Ziyanda Bandla” (We are at your house; we are standing outside and we are tired, Ziyanda).
I sighed. Parents, parents; I so wish I was an orphan at this point. “I’m coming,” I disconnected the call. Trust parents to ruin your plans; trust them to ruin your f***ing plans. Gosh. I started the ignition, then drove off. I had to go to KZN and fetch my husband, but no, here they are thinking they are all that, mxm. A call came through again; whoever it is will be sorry for herself. I answered without looking at the caller ID. “I said I’m coming, God damnit!” I heard a soft chuckle.
I looked at the caller before sighing. “Nkanyezi,” I said softly.
📱”Whoever made you this angry shouldn’t meet you like this,” she continued laughing. “If it’s not your parents, then who?”
📱”I’m sure they came unannounced again?” I sighed. “Yhoo, mntwana.” She laughed.
📱”I called to inform you that now I’m like my parents; I’m on my way to your house.”
“Not you again? Ohhh God, what did I do to deserve this kind of family?”
📱”And I’ll be staying with you for a while; my shoot is this side.” Ohhh God, yep, she’s also a model. I grew up looking up to her, always on the front pages of magazines. I’ve always wished to be like her. “Oh great, I was still enjoying my own space,” she chuckled.
📱”Sorry we burst your bubble, but I think Mom and Dad came to you because I told them I’ll be staying with you.” I sighed. Is this the family I asked God for when you asked me to choose a family? Then if it is, I don’t know, but please take them with you again, yhooooo. “Bye, babes; we will talk when you arrive.” I disconnected the call.
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