Chapter Nine

Sbu and I left Jo’burg at the end of the week. In the course of the week, Mamkhulu took us to view a few townhouses and I picked the one I liked. Sbu still didn’t understand why were buying a house because he ‘liked staying over at Mamkhulu’s hotels’. What a suck up! Anyway, the sale of the house was finalised by Friday morning and Sbu and I left in the evening. Mamkhulu gave me a long, heartfelt hug before we left. I know what that hug meant; she was reminding of the conversation we had had earlier in the week. She also insisted that I return the keys to the house in Waterfall, saying I would only get them back the next time I was in Jo’burg without Sbu. Yes, my stepmother is helping me cover my tracks. That’s what family is for. But I don’t know if I’ll ever need those keys again. Sbu and I have been in a very good place since his weird apology the other day. I think our marriage might just work after all. When we arrived at the palace on Saturday morning, we were greeted by an unfamiliar face. Although, judging by how she was dressed and how Sbu greeted her - with a hug and a kiss – I already knew who she was.

“Oh, MaMnguni. Welcome back. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.” She says, broad smile and all. I don’t respond, I’m just looking at her and I cannot hide the disgust on my face. I feel guilty for hating her. If Mamkhulu’s hate for my mother had resonated enough with my dad, I possibly would not have been born. But I can’t help it. This is a different situation. Delani comes out of nowhere and takes our luggage. I walk graciously into the living room and allow Kayise to play on the floor. The two lovebirds soon join me in the living room.

“Baby,” Sbu says and I look at him. He has his hand on her lower back, I roll my eyes. “This is Lineo Mofokeng, Princess of Lesotho.”

I don’t respond. What am I supposed to say, really? Welcome, hugs and kisses? Give me a break!

“I just love that dress. I just wouldn’t have thought that a young Queen like yourself would dress so… modestly.” She says and I take a moment to study what she’s wearing. Wait a minute, that dress she’s wearing is practically all mesh and it’s shorter than the skirt Sbu made me change out of in MY FATHER’S HOUSE! Why does she get to dress the way she likes? I choose not to say anything, Mamkhulu told me to protect my peace so I shall do exactly that. She comes and sits next to me.

“Well, at least it’s figure-hugging. The dress, I mean, even though it’s so long.” She says.

“Babe, come on. She’s trying to make conversation.” Sbu says, leaning against the doorframe. Now he’s going to force me to speak to his mistress? It’s fine, I’m an actress, I can pull this off. I put on my killer smile as I turn to face Lineo.

“I like my dress, thank you. And if you’re going to share in my Queenship, then you really should start dressing the part.” I say calmly.

“Oh it’s not necessary,” Sbu says, his eyes fixed on her. “I think she looks beautiful.”

“Well, that settles it then. You’ll wear the long , grandma dresses and I’ll dress appropriately for my age. Good Queen, Bad Queen. Best of both worlds.” She says and giggles. How old is this girl? Irritation washes over my face before I can control it. He’s letting her disrespect me, just like that. I tell her one thing, he tells her another. This is the life I’m going to live.

“Where on earth is Thandeka with my drink?” she asks no-one in particular.

“Why is Thandeka getting you a drink?” I ask.

“Because I told her to… she’s the help.” She says.

“She is not the help, she is MY right-hand woman.” I say to Sbu and he shrugs. As if to say, it’s not my business. Thandeka comes in a few minutes later with a glass of water on a tray. She bows slightly when she passes Sbu at the door and then again when she hands Lineo her glass of water. Seriously, she couldn’t get her own water?

“Ndlovukazi.” Thandeka says to me before leaving the room.

“She doesn’t bow to you?” Lineo asks in pure horror.

“I told them not to, it’s unnecessary.” I say and she slurps her water. Yoh hai, I don’t know if she bunked her royal etiquette classes or if she’s just trying to irritate me. If it’s the latter, she’s doing an exceptionally good job.

“Of course, you would. You commoners have to stick together. As for me, I will always be above all commoners and they will bow down in my presence.” She takes another sip. My left eye twitches. This girl has just told me that she is above me. And Sbu is just looking at her like a lovesick puppy.

“It must have been hard for you… having to adjust to the royal lifestyle.” She says after a moment of silence.

“Why do you say that?” I ask, bored out of my mind.

“We, the royals, do not live like the peasantry. The subjects. From birth to death, our lives are more meaningful… more important… even when we’re not doing anything. But luckily for you, you got a taste of that. A taste of the throne, even. What a lucky little nobody you are.” She says and I decide I’ve had enough so I get up, pick Kayise up and storm to my bedroom. My bedroom door is locked. Why is my bedroom door locked?

“Oh, that isn’t your room anymore.” I hear the brat say behind me. She followed me?

“Of course, it’s my room. I am the Queen – I share the master bedroom with my King.” I say. Sbu appears behind her and places a hand on her shoulder.

“Actually, my love, we’ve moved you into this room.” he points at the bedroom next to the main bedroom. “The royal wife gets the main bedroom.”

I feel like my head is going to explode. Lineo stands there with a smug look on her face. She’s right, she is above me. Even though I, as the first wife, have not even agreed to her becoming the second wife. Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t have a say in that. I don’t have a say in anything around here.

“Come to Daddy, Kayise. We’re going on a picnic with Lineo.” Sbu says as he takes Kayise from me. I watch them as they walk down the passage – she’s taking over my life. My new life.

“Ah, kaMalandela, do you like your new room?” Sbu’s mom says as she appears out of nowhere. “I tried my best to make sure it was decorated to your taste.”

I harden my face to erase all suspicion that I might be on the verge of crying. I open the door, walk in slowly and shut it behind me. Tears run down my face as I take off my dress and get into bed. I remember the last time I was in a bed with nothing but lingerie on… it was with Sbu just yesterday. And I felt like he loved me. Like he loved me the way he had loved me when we started dating. Before I fell pregnant and we had to get married. Apologetic Sbu was lovey-dovey Sbu and I wanted him around forever. But now here I am, a Queen sleeping in a spare bedroom, crying into her pillow. This would make a fantastic storyline for a movie or something… but it’s my reality and that is very soul-crushing.

I cried myself to sleep and I ended sleeping all day. I eventually sit up, grab my silk robe from the bedside table and put in on, tying it only loosely. It’s just after 8pm and I have a text from Thuto:

Hey Ntando. I hope you got to KZN safely. Please call me when you get the chance, I’m thinking about you.

I’m thinking about him, too. I haven’t stopped thinking about him since the last time I was with him and he told me he loved me. If Sbu hadn’t showed up at my parents’ house that day, I would have seen Thuto the entire week. I would have been in his arms. I probably wouldn’t be in this bed right now, regretting every decision I’ve made since I started varsity.

“Aww, is the little baby sulking?” the brat waltzes into my room with a plate of food.

“I asked Thandeka to bring my food, not you.” I say.

“I do as I please.” She looks around the room. “Hmm, peasantry.” She puts the plate on the bedside table and walks out. Lord, I know I’m not a devoted Christian, but surely I haven’t sinned so much as to deserve this. I reply to Thuto’s text with a smiling emoji. I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know how I feel. There’s a knock on my door and I decide to ignore it. Nobody in this palace can make me feel better now, so I just don’t want to talk to them. The door opens slowly and Sbu pops his head in.

“May I come in?” he asks softly. I don’t respond, I just get up, fasten my robe and close the curtains. He locks the door behind him and sits on the edge of my bed. I join him.

“You’re not fair.” I say. He’s looking down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs.

“What have I done?” he asks softly.

“I have given myself to you, committed myself to you… yet I must continue to compete for you.” I say, my voice is shaky but I’m not crying yet. I think I cried enough all afternoon. Only now does Sbu make eye contact. He takes hold of my hands and looks straight into my eyes.

“You never have to compete for me. Lineo is just… royal protocol, that’s it. She’s arm candy, at most. The one I take to royal functions, the trophy wife. You’re the one I love. The one who helps me run my kingdom. You’re my Queen, my people’s Queen. Just ignore her if she gets on your nerves, please.” He’s begging. Sibusiso Ngubane, King of Emabomvini, is begging. I never thought I’d see the day. He usually demands, this one.

“It’s hard to ignore her when she’s taking over my life.” I say.

“I’m sorry, my love. It’s just protocol, like I said. She’s royalty, we have to treat her as such or it could jeopardise our relationship with the Lesotho monarchy. Listen, I need you to remember that I love you dearly and no matter how hard things may be, nothing will ever take away the love that I have for you, Ndlovukazi.” He says. I don’t think Sbu and I have ever had a moment so sincere, so sacred. I actually believe him. I believe that he loves me and that he’s not trying to replace me. I mean, he loved me in varsity. He knew I wasn’t from a royal family and yet he still followed me around, begging for my attention. Whereas if Lineo wasn’t the daughter of a King, he wouldn’t have given her a second thought. He really does love me. I put my arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.

“I love you, Thuto.” I say, mid-kiss. Wait, what? He pulls away from me.

“What the hell did you just call me?” he asks softly but his face has hardened.

“Sbu… I called you Sbu.” I say.

“Ntandokazi, what the fuck did you just call me?” he’s growling again. He gets up from the bed and stands right in front of me, my first instinct is to move back onto the bed towards the middle. But he’s too quick for me. In one rapid swing of his arm, he grabs me by my neck, pulls me off the bed and pins me against the nearest wall.

“Sibusiso… please…” I say, trying to pry his hand off my neck. My feet are barely touching the ground, I am completely at his mercy.

“You’re cheating on me.” he says.

“No, I’m not.” I say in between sobs, still at war with his hand. He startles me into letting go when he punches the wall, only a few centimetres from my face. “Please, Sbu…”

“Don’t lie to me! That’s why you went to Jo’burg, isn’t it?” he says and I attempt to shake my head but he throws another punch at the wall.

“Yes…” he goes on, his grip on my neck seemingly getting tighter. “That’s why you slept out the day before I arrived. And that’s why you were dressed like a bloody prostitute!”

Oh, how rich coming from him! His second wife is out there dressed in mesh and I’m the one who looked like a prostitute. Double standards! Of course, I don’t say anything because I’m in a battle for survival.

“Baby, please… I didn’t cheat on you…” I say, barely audible because I’m choking. I need to say something that will calm him down, stroke his ego. “Please, Sbu… you’re my King, I would never dishonour you like that…” A good actress knows how to improvise. But this doesn’t have the desired effect because his grip only gets tighter.

“Damn right, I’m your King. And I’m going to show you that he is not half the man that I am.” He says just as he unfastens my robe, exposing my bare skin other than what is covered by the lingerie. Does he honestly think he’s going to get lucky while he has me in a choke-hold?

“Sbu, stop… please…” I say, still choking, as he rips my underwear. Sbu is strong, guys. He’s holding me up with one hand and undressing me with the other.

“Stop?” he’s growling. “You didn’t tell him to stop. You sure as hell don’t get to tell me to stop, you’re my property. Do you know how much money I paid for you? And then you go and give yourself to a little boy but you want to tell me to stop.” He says, still growling and then he swiftly throws me onto the bed before climbing on top of me. I immediately cover my neck with my hand, as if to protect myself. It’s a futile exercise, I know…

“Please… not like this…” I’m begging my husband to get off of me. It’s 2041 and I have to teach my husband about consent. The same husband who has just man-handled me. What is this life? He pulls my hair and tilts my head backwards.

“I am your KING!” and as he says ‘king’, he thrusts into me so violently that I am instantly paralysed. Paralysed with fear… disbelief… all I can do is let the tears roll down my cheeks. I hate him. I hate Sibusiso Ngubane with every fibre of my being and I curse the day that I met him.

When he was done, when he was satisfied with himself, he stood over me and told me that he hoped I had learned my lesson. That no man could ever be better than him. And that I belonged to him. Then he got dressed and walked out, leaving me paralysed on the bed – my naked body riddled with all sorts of bruises, scratches and bite marks. My face throbbing from all the slaps. I had no more tears. I had no more strength. I sat in the bath tub, contemplating my next move. Phone in hand, I decided that I had to make this call and I had to make it now. It rang twice.

“Hello? Ntando, it’s 11pm.” He says.

“I know… I’m sorry… but I need your help.” I say.

“Are you okay?”

“Bab’omncane, I know you specialise in property law but I think you’re the only one who can help me… I need a divorce lawyer…”

*****

I have had no sleep. I’ve been sitting in the corner of my room in sweatpants and an oversized hoody, holding onto my knees very tightly, since I got out of the bath tub. The sun has already risen. Was I supposed to bath? Won’t I need proof that he raped me? I should go to a doctor, the scars and bruises on my body should provide enough evidence. There are even bruises on my neck, this time, that’s how tight his grip was. There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I ignore it. The door opens slowly.

“Hey, big sis. We missed you at breakfast, Mom said I should check up on you.” Thokozani says. She walks slowly towards me. “Are you okay?”

I don’t say anything. She touches my shoulder and I flinch, it hurts. She quickly retreats, frightened by my reaction. She pulls the hood of my sweater down and gasps as she sees my neck.

“Was it Sbu? Did he hit you?” she asks, close to tears. I’d also cry if I found out my big brother was an abuser. I don’t say anything, still. She can figure it out. A lonesome tear runs down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away.

“I am so sorry, Ntando… I can’t believe he’d do this…” she’s shaking and she’s crying even more now. “Are you gonna leave him?” I shrug and she continues to wipe away her tears. She gets up and walks out of the room, I think she’s overwhelmed. I wonder how she’ll explain why she’s crying. I look at my phone, it’s 9:30am. I’ve been sitting in this corner for far too long. I must get a move on. I spring to my feet and head for the closet. In about 30 minutes, I have managed to pack all of my clothes, shoes, accessories, toiletries, portraits into bags and boxes. To be fair, some of my stuff was already in boxes from when they moved me out of the main bedroom. Just as I zip the last of my suitcases, Sbu barges into my room. He scans the whole room and suddenly turns into Apologetic Sbu again.

“No, baby please don’t go… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, please.” He says, walking towards me with his hands together to emphasise his begging. I don’t say anything. I just continue to look through the drawers to make sure I haven’t left anything behind. The only things I’m leaving behind are things that have to do with this place – their royal jewels, their green-beaded things, the green golf shirts that we wear when we go to the farms. And the wedding ring. He hugs me from behind and my body freezes. The only sign of life being my heavy breathing.

“Baby, please. Don’t leave me. What would become of me?” he continues begging. He eventually realises that I won’t respond so he lets go of me and turns me around to face him. He cups my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. My cold, fearful eyes.

“Are you in pain?” he asks and I look away. “I’m sorry, my love. Please forgive me. Please don’t give up on me, I love you. You are my life.”

I still don’t say anything so he lets go of my face and gets onto his knees. What?

“A King,” he says, fighting back tears. “A King bows down to no-one… but his Queen. And a King is nothing without his Queen. Don’t leave me, MaMnguni. Ndlovukazi. Sthandwa sam. Please.” He’s crying. He’s making me weak and pathetic. He’s making me feel sorry for him. I mean, I did cheat on him… he wasn’t entirely wrong. No! No, there is no justification for what he did. I take hold of his hands and help him up, cupping his face in my own fragile, trembling hands.

“My King…” I whisper and his face immediately hardens, but not with anger. It’s as if he’s regaining his strength, he’s no longer crying. He’s no longer begging. He looks triumphant now. He takes my hands into his, not breaking eye contact, and kisses them.

“Til’ death, my Queen.” He says softly but with great intent.

I am dead inside.