ZAMAHLOBO ,THE BLOOD WIFE
CHAPTER 07
ZAMAHLOBO
“Who is the woman I keep seeing? Why does she only appear to me?” She asks.
“Her face cannot be revealed to me; it remains blurry. But rest assured, she is your guiding angel. She wishes well for you,” Gogo’Nongoloza replies.
“So how do I find this husband of mine ?”
“When you do,you will know. She will guide you to them.”
“Who will?”
“When she appears again,you will understand. I have told you all I can see. Now it is up to you. You must decide your own fate. Choose wisely. One path leads toward light. The other leads into darkness, toward dreadful destruction.”
Zamahlobo nods. It isn’t much, but it’s more than she had before. She opens her purse to offer payment, but Gogo’Nongoloza stops her with a raised hand. Zamahlobo thanks her, stands, and leaves.
Sindiswa is waiting outside.
“So, how did it go?” she asks once they’re back in the car.
“Better than nothing.She told me that…” Zamahlobo’s sentence trails off. She sees her. The woman is there, walking along the roadside. “Sindiswa, stop the car!”
“What?”
“Stop the car!” She shouts.
Confused,Sindiswa pulls over. Zamahlobo gets out before the car fully stops.
“Zama,where are you going?” Sindiswa calls after her.
“I’ll be back,I promise!” Zamahlobo yells over her shoulder before running after the woman. “Lady! Please stop! Hey, I’m talking to you!”
People on the street stare. To them, she is a woman running and shouting at empty air. She ignores their looks and focuses on the retreating figure. The woman never looks back, but her pace seems to slow just enough to keep Zamahlobo following.
They turn down a quiet, tree-lined street. Zanokuhle pauses, breathless. The woman has vanished. She turns in a circle, but the figure is gone. Her gaze lands on the mansion before her. She knows this place. This is the Ngwenya estate.
A gasp escapes her as Gogo’Nongoloza’s words echo in her mind: ‘She will guide you to them.’
It can’t be. She can’t be the Ngwenya’s Keeper. Can she?
The ringing of her phone pulls her back. Her father’s name flashes on the screen.
“Baba.”
“MaQwabe, unjani ndodakazi?”
“I’m fine,Baba. And you?”
“I’m also fine.I need you to come home as soon as possible, MaQwabe.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“We have something important to discuss with you. Just come home. We are waiting.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
She has left Sindiswa stranded. Her friend has likely already driven off. Zamahlobo hails a taxi and gives the address for Umhlanga. Still in her dress from the visit to the healer, she leans her head against the window. The healer’s warnings loop in her mind. If this is real, she will accept it. How hard can it be? She isn’t ready for the chaos the ancestors might unleash if she disobeys.
–
When she arrives at her family home, Khetha, the gatekeeper, opens for her. A familiar car is parked inside. Her nephew, Khaya, runs up to her and says the adults are all in the main house. The property holds two homes: the main house belonging to her mother, Phetheni, and the second belonging to her second mother, Zekhethelo. Her father’s second wife .
She knocks and enters. It seems the entire family is gathered. Her eyes widen. Mntimande? What is he doing here? MaXulu sits beside him. And there’s another man who resembles Mandla—his brother, perhaps. Her mother stands and embraces her, her face unreadable. Zamahlobo greets everyone politely and sits beside Zekhethelo.
“Ma, kwenzakalani?”she whispers.
“Nami angazi, ntombi,”Zekhethelo whispers back. They have all been waiting for Zamahlobo to learn what this is about.
The door opens again. Mkhontowesizwe walks in. A smile touches Zamahlobo’s lips. Thank God he’s alright. She knew he was being discharged today, but she never expected him here.
“Sanibona,”he says, his voice low. The greetings are returned. Her father, Bhekizitha, gestures for him to sit. He takes the empty spot beside Zamahlobo, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Phakathwayo, may I?” Mandla asks Bhekizitha, who gives a solemn nod.
“I am sorry for calling everyone here on such short notice,but the matter is urgent,” Mandla begins. “It involves both of our children. My son, Mkhontowesizwe, and your daughter, Zamahlobo. I have already spoken with Phakathwayo, but you all should know. Zamahlobo my dear, you are my family’s…”
“Keeper,” Zamahlobo finishes quietly.
All eyes turn to her.
“You already know?”Bhekizitha asks.
“Yes,Father. I know.”
“Well,my dear, I am glad you do.” Mandla’s voice is heavy. “I know I will sound selfish when I ask you of this, but I have no choice. For his safety, and for the balance demanded, you must marry my son.”
“What?!” Mkhontowesizwe’s head snaps up.
“Mkhontowesizwe,you are in danger. The ancestors have made this clear. To live and be safe, you must marry MaPhakathwayo.”
Mkhontowesizwe lets out a sharp,disbelieving laugh.
“Good joke, Mntimande.” He continues laughing, but the sound dies when he meets the ring of serious faces. “What the fuck?”
“Language,mfana!” Bhekizitha rebukes.
“Wait,what? So you called me here to tell me I have to get married? Are you for real?”
“Yes.It is the only way to protect you—and MaPhakathwayo—from the ancestors’ wrath.”
“So you’re telling me that people who died long ago think I’m in danger,and she is the only one who can ‘protect’ me?” He scoffs. They all nod. “You guys are funny.”
“It is not funny,Sizwe. It is the truth.”
“What? Zamahlobo don’t tell me you believe in this nonsense. ”
“It is not nonsense Mkhontowesizwe. It is what it is.”
“Well,believe whatever you want. I am not getting married because some dead people say so.” He stands to leave.
“Mkhontowesizwe Ngwenya,sit down!” Mandla’s voice thunders through the room, startling everyone. “If you do not marry Zamahlobo ,you are going to die! Why can’t you understand that?”
“Because I don’twant to get married! If they want their keeper so badly, tell them to wake up and marry her themselves!” He storms out, slamming the door behind him.
He will not be forced into marriage by the dictates of the dead. He is tired of his father dictating his life. It hasn’t even been three months since he left prison. He needs to find his footing, to rebuild. Marriage is not on his list. Zamahlobo is beautiful, and she deserves someone who can love her properly, someone who can give her happiness. That person is not him. She deserves better than an ex-convict. He pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it, sucking in the smoke to steady his racing thoughts.
“You know storming out won’t change reality, right?”
He turns. Zamahlobo stands there, arms folded across her chest. He sighs, flicks the cigarette to the ground, and crushes it under his heel. She walks over and stands beside him. Together, they look out over her father’s kraal.
“Are you okay?”she asks.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“I’m fine too. Thank you. For saving me.”
“It was nothing .I also wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t dragged me out of that car.” A faint, shared chuckle passes between them.
“So,”he says, the word hanging in the air. “You’re my keeper.”
“Unfortunately ,yes.” She turns to face him. “Mkhontowesizwe, you might not believe it, but it’s true. I didn’t want to believe it either, but it is what it is. Listen, I’m new to this too, but I believe in the ancestors. They will make our lives a living hell if we don’t listen. We might not know each other well, but can’t we at least try? For the sake of our own lives?”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I went to a traditional healer today. A woman has been appearing to me—in the street, in my dreams. She keeps telling me I’m a keeper. I thought it was nothing until Sindiswa took me to Gogo’Nongoloza. She confirmed everything. If we don’t marry, there will be consequences. Dreadful ones. Not just for you. For me, too. You saw what happened last week . I don’t want to die .”
“So marriage is the only way?”
“Yes. I’m scared too. But I’m willing to try. Just… think about it.” She gives his arm a gentle, fleeting squeeze, then turns and walks back to the house, leaving him alone with the weight of her words.
He pushes his hands deep into his pockets and exhales, watching the horizon. Jail was easier than this.