UMFAZI WAKWA NDWANDWE
WRITTEN BY L . P . MBHELE
INSERT 002
_KAGOENTLE NDWANDWE_
I sighed, leaning against the cold tiles of the bathroom, the faint scent of fresh paint and disinfectant filling my nostrils. The dim light above the mirror cast an unflattering glow on my face, making my eyes look sunken and my skin pale. I’d been in here for over an hour, trying to gather the courage to face the night ahead. The wedding reception was still going strong, the music and laughter muffled by the door, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside me. I could feel the vibrations of the bass through the floor, a reminder that the world outside was moving on, oblivious to my inner struggle.
I stared at my reflection, the woman staring back at me looked like a stranger. The wedding dress, the makeup, the hair – it was all a facade, a mask hiding the real me. I thought of Aurora, my girlfriend, and how I’d hurt her today. The pain in her eyes still lingered, making my chest ache. I wondered if she’d gotten my message, if she’d understood why I’d done what I did. The thought of her walking out of my life was unbearable, yet I knew I couldn’t escape the life I’d been born into.
A soft knock on the door broke the silence, making me jump. “Kagoentle, are you okay?” It was my best friend, Thandi. Her voice was a gentle reminder that I wasn’t alone, that someone was waiting for me, worried about me.
I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… just give me a minute.” My voice sounded shaky, even to my own ears.
Thandi’s voice was gentle. “Okay, but hurry up. Your… husband’s waiting.” The pause before she said “husband” was telling. She didn’t approve of this arrangement any more than I did.
Husband. The word felt like a stranger’s voice in my head. I turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run over my wrists. The chill was a welcome distraction from the turmoil brewing inside me. I closed my eyes, feeling the water trickle down my arms, trying to wash away the doubts and fears.
What was I going to do? How was I supposed to navigate this arranged marriage, pretending to be something I’m not? The weight of my family’s expectations, the Ndwandwe family’s reputation – it was all suffocating. I felt trapped, like a bird in a goliath cage, flinging itself against the bars, desperate to be free.
I dried my hands, took one last look at the stranger in the mirror, and opened the door. Thandi was waiting, a sympathetic smile on her face. “You can do this,” she whispered, squeezing my hand. Her eyes said it all – she knew I was scared, that I was in over my head.
Together, we walked back to the lion’s den, the music and laughter growing louder with each step. I could feel the eyes on me as we entered the reception hall, the curious stares, the whispers. I kept my head high, a fake smile plastered on my face, as I made my way back to the table where my… husband sat, watching me with an unreadable expression.
I sighed once more looking at my supposed to be husband, he is with his brothers. They sure a big family because Mr Ndwandwe married two wife, as I heard. Before my feet could carry me to my husband, I felt someone grapping my hand. I turned to look on my side, its my dad. He smiled then nodded a little.
I scoffed, pulling my hand from my dad’s grasp, trying to ignore the hurt that flashed across his face. My stepmother, Ilithalami, stood at the microphone, a smug smile spreading across her face like a bad rash. The room fell silent, awaiting her words. The air was thick with anticipation, and I could feel the weight of expectations bearing down on me. I glanced around the room, taking in the familiar faces of family and friends, all of whom were smiling and nodding in approval of this union. But I knew the truth – this was a sham, a desperate attempt to salvage our family’s reputation.
“Good evening, everyone,” Ilithalami began, her voice dripping with sweetness. “I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all for celebrating this special day with us. The union of our beloved Nhlanzeko and Kagoentle is a testament to the strength of our families and our communities.” Her words were like a slow-moving poison, seeping into my skin and making me feel like I was drowning in a sea of lies. I rolled my eyes, feeling a snort building up in my throat. Beloved? Ha! Nhlanzeko’s eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a glimmer of amusement there. Maybe he wasn’t as invested in this charade as I thought.
Ilithalami continued, her voice never wavering, “As a mother, there’s nothing more fulfilling than seeing your child find happiness and love. And I know Luminjalo would be thrilled to see her sister take her place.” The mention of Luminjalo’s name sent a ripple of unease through the room, and I glanced at my dad, his expression a mixture of guilt and worry. My stepsister’s disappearance was still a sore spot, and Ilitha’s words were a not-so-subtle reminder of the reason I was standing here, in this dress, with this man.
The room’s attention shifted back to Ilithalami as she raised her glass. “To the happy couple! May their love grow stronger with each passing day.” The crowd echoed her toast, and I forced a smile, clapping along with them. Nhlanzeko’s eyes never left mine, his expression inscrutable. What was he thinking? Did he care about this facade as little as I did? The music started up again, and people began to mingle, their laughter and chatter a cacophony of sound that threatened to overwhelm me.
My dad approached me, his eyes pleading. “Kagoentle, can we talk?” I shook my head, feeling a cold mask slip into place. “Not now, Dad.” I couldn’t bear to look at him, to see the guilt and shame written across his face. Nhlanzeko appeared at my side, his arm brushing against mine. “Is everything fine?”, his cold, deep voice interrupted my hearing, his cologne damn. I nodded fast trying so hard to hold my tears, “yes everything it’s fine”, I said then turned to walk to our table.