UMFAZI WAKWA NDWANDWE
WRITTEN BY L. P. MBHELE
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_NARRATOR_
The beauty of the sunset covered the household in KwaZulu Natal, casting an orange glow all over the place. People were coming from work while others were still going to work, and every child went back to their homes. A black car drove into the Ndwandwe household after the guard opened the gate for them. Ziyanda looked around the house, her mother in the front seat while her father was in the back seat.
“Such a big house it is,” Mrs. Mtungwa said, looking at her daughter. Ziyanda nodded with a smile on her face. “We have arrived, fam. We can get out,” she opened her door to get out. Already the guards were near the car, ready to take anything out. Cebo walked out of his room, his eyes going to the car that didn’t look familiar to him. He called one of the guards, who ran to him. “What’s going on? Who are those people?” he asked, looking at the guard.
“Angibazi mphathi, bathi bafuna ukukhuluma no Mkhatshwa” (I don’t know them, boss. They said they want to talk to Mkhatshwa). He nodded and then told him to go. He walked to the main house without glancing at them. He went to his father’s study and then knocked. Cebo walked in, finding his father sitting behind the desk, sipping a glass of whiskey. “Dad, there are people here to see you,” he said, his tone casual. Mkhatshwa looked up, intrigued. “Who is it?” he asked, gesturing for Cebo to come in.
Cebo shrugged. “Don’t know, but they drove in a black car and the guards don’t know them either. Sounds like they’re from the city, maybe?”
Mkhatshwa’s expression turned serious; he placed the glass down. “Show them in,” he said, his voice firm. Cebo nodded and turned around to go get them. While Cebo walked out of the study, Mkhatshwa followed him; he went upstairs to fetch his wife. He entered MaShandu’s room, finding her applying lotion to her body. “Hau baba, kwenzenjani?” (What’s wrong?) Mkhatshwa sighed deeply, “There are people downstairs; after you’re done, meet us there.” MaShandu nodded her head, then Mkhatshwa walked out to MaCele’s room.
He walked in, finding MaCele already having taken a bath. “MaCele,” she smiled, looking at her husband. She bowed down, showing some respect, “Yebo baba?” Mkhatshwa walked closer to her, “There are people downstairs. Usuqedile?” (Are you ready?) MaCele nodded her head. “Asiye ezansi” (Let’s go downstairs). He walked out, and MaCele followed him briefly; they met MaShandu walking out of her room. MaShandu looked at MaCele, who just shrugged her shoulders.
“I wonder…” she then said. When they reached downstairs where the Mtungwas were seated, upon seeing them, MaShandu’s eyes popped out of their sockets. She jammed to a stop, her heart beating uncontrollably. Thinking about what they wanted here, were they here to report on her or what? She quickly regained herself and went to sit next to MaCele. “Ndwandwe, Zwide, Mkhatshwa, thina ke sibakwa Mtungwa,” Mrs. Mtungwa said. Mkhatshwa nodded his head, sitting up straight.
“Singanisiza ngani namuhla?” (How can we help you today?) Bahlekazi, who is Mrs. Mtungwa, cleared her throat and looked at Ziyanda, who was seated on the floor with a shawl on her shoulders. “Size ngodaba lentombazana lethu koMtungwa” (We came about the matter of our daughter). Mkhatshwa nodded his head; his eyes were now looking at Ziyanda. The lounge door opened, revealing Phiwayinkosi; he greeted them and then walked to the kitchen. “Intombi lena yakwa Mtungwa imithi Mkhatshwa, ithi imithiswe omunye wama dodana wakho” (Our daughter is pregnant, and she said one of your sons is the father).
Mkhatshwa looked at Cebo, who was seated on the side. Then he looked back at Bahlekazi, “I have four sons, MaMtungwa. Usho muphi Kanye?” (Which one are you referring to?) MaShandu looked at Cebo with a death stare, but Cebo wasn’t intimidated at all. “Nhlanzeko Ndwandwe,” MaCele looked at Bahlekazi and then at her husband. She stood up and went to squat in front of the girl. She raised her head and looked at her, “Ziyanda!” A deep and hoarse voice said from behind them; everyone turned to see where the voice was coming from. The embarrassed Ziyanda looked down again. “Uyamazi ndodana?” (Do you know him, son?) Mkhatshwa asked Phiwa.
He didn’t say anything but kept looking at Ziyanda. “What are you doing here? After everything you did, you still have the nerve to set foot on this land, Ziyanda Mtungwa,” Ziyanda didn’t say anything; she just looked at the floor. “Ndodana, bengcela uyehlise umoya; Sizwe o Mtungwa beze ngani?” (Son, please calm down so we can hear why they are here), Mkhatshwa said. But Phiwa just shook his head, “Akunamoya oziyehliswa lana Mkhatshwa; kusasenalo nondindwa lana ekhaya. I DON’T WANT HER HERE, BABA!” (There is no spirit that will be calmed here, Mkhatshwa, while this hoe is still here at home).
He clicked his tongue, still looking at Ziyanda. “What’s your purpose now, huh? Are you here to pin your stupid pregnancy on my brother? Ushelele Wawa keh Sisi, take your bloody family and get the hell out of here!” The door opened, and Nhlanzeko walked in, followed by Kago. Just by looking at them, they were shocked at what was happening. “Sanibonani ekhaya, umsindo ongaka kwenzenjani?” (Hello at home, why so much noise?) Phiwa looked at Nhlanzeko and then back at Ziyanda; Nhlanzeko’s eyes followed his.
His eyes popped out; he walked closer to where he could see her. “Ziyanda, what are you doing here?” Now everyone was shocked at what was really happening. “I’m 5 months pregnant, Nhlanzeko, and it’s yours,” she said amidst her sniffs. Nhlanzeko looked at her for a moment. “And it’s mine?” he repeated, whispering.
The room fell silent; the only sound was the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. Nhlanzeko’s words hung in the air, his eyes locked on Ziyanda’s, searching for answers. The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Kagoentle’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth as she took in the scene before her.
Mkhatshwa’s expression turned thunderous, his eyes flashing with anger. “Explain yourself, Nhlanzeko,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. Nhlanzeko took a step back, his eyes darting to his father and back to Ziyanda.
“I…I don’t know what’s going on,” he stammered, his voice shaking. “I haven’t seen her in months, I swear.” Ziyanda’s eyes dropped, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
Phiwayinkosi snorted, his expression twisted in disgust. “Save it, Nhlanzeko. You’re not that good of a liar.” He turned to Ziyanda, his eyes narrowing. “Do you think you can just wade in here and pin this on him? You’re a Mtungwa, after all. You’ve always been trash.” Cebo stood up, his eyes flashing with anger. “Hey, that’s enough. Don’t talk to her like that.” MaShandu’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth. “Cebo, no!”
But Cebo didn’t back down; his eyes locked on Phiwayinkosi. “You don’t know what’s going on, so shut up.” The room fell silent, the tension between the two brothers palpable.
Mkhatshwa’s voice cut through the silence, “Enough! We’ll get to the bottom of this. Nhlanzeko, you’ll take a DNA test after the child is born.” Nhlanzeko nodded, his eyes still locked on Ziyanda’s. Kagoentle stepped forward, her eyes flashing with anger. “Is….is this true, Nhlanzeko?” she whispered as her voice became scratchy. Her eyes became wet with tears; she shook her head slowly as the tears made their way down, and she ran out of the house, Nhlanzeko quickly ran after her.
The room was electric with tension, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Ziyanda stood up, her eyes locked on Phiwa’s. “I’m not leaving until I get what I came for,” she said, her voice shaking. The room fell silent; the only sound was the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.
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