UMFAZI WAKWA NDWANDWE
WRITTEN BY L . P . MBHELE
INSERT 025.
_KAGOENTLE NDWANDWE _
The morning after our return, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off. Ziyanda was MIA, and I wasn’t exactly broken-hearted about it. I figured she’d gone back to her usual sulky self. I left Nhlanzeko snoozing in the room and headed to the main house to lend a hand with breakfast and cleaning. As I approached, I caught a glimpse of Mfiso supporting Ziyanda, her steps unsteady, like a fragile leaf on a windy day. My curiosity piqued, I paused, watching as they stumbled, laughing awkwardly, trying to get through the door. I shook my head, following them in.
In the kitchen, Sthembile and I worked in sync, chatting lightly as we whipped up breakfast. The peaceful morning was shattered by a blood-curdling scream from upstairs. We exchanged wide-eyed glances, our smiles frozen. Mfiso burst into view, Ziyanda cr cramped in his arms, a crimson stain spreading down her legs…
Sthembile’s eyes locked onto mine, her face a mask of shock. We dropped our utensils, rushing to Mfiso’s side as he stumbled down the stairs, Ziyanda limp in his arms. The air was thick with tension, heavy with unspoken questions. What happened? Why the blood? Mfiso’s face was etched with panic, his eyes wild as he shouted for help.
We reached the living room, and Mfiso gently laid Ziyanda on the couch. Sthembile rushed to grab a towel, pressing it between Ziyanda’s legs, trying to stem the flow of blood. I stood frozen, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Ziyanda’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused, her lips parted in a silent scream.
Everyone walked out of the rooms, shocked to what is happening as Mfiso’s words spilled out, a frantic explanation of what happened. My stomach dropped, a wave of nausea washing over me. This wasn’t just a simple accident; something was seriously wrong. Sthembile’s voice cut through the chaos, calm and authoritative. CONTINUE ON C’S.