Chapter Thirteen

The past two days have been hell. It’s as if I can’t catch a break; as soon as I patched things up with Sbu, I suddenly feel sick and can’t keep any food down. I’m laying on the couch trying to recover from my latest puke episode when Thandeka comes into the living room. Low and behold, the mighty Kgomotso Mnguni-Zwane strolling in behind her wearing 6-inch heels and oversized sunglasses. I don’t even bother sitting up.

“Ndlovukazi, your stepmother has just arrived. Which room should I prepare for her?” Thandeka asks.

“No, Thandeka, that won’t be necessary. Thank you.” I say, sitting up reluctantly. Thandeka leaves the room and I follow Mamkhulu with my eyes as she makes herself comfortable on the couch opposite me.

“I suppose I could sleep at the lodge…” she says and I only give her a blank look. “What’s going on?”

“With what?” I ask, emphasising the boredom in my tone.

“You threw an entire tantrum about me not buying you a car and when I did, you sent it back. Why?”

I sink further into the couch, my back really hurts right now and I don’t think I have the energy for this conversation. Good timing is obviously a foreign concept to Mamkhulu.

“I sent the car back because I had to throw a tantrum before you bought it. You couldn’t just buy me a car just because you love me… like you did for your kids.” I say, barely finding my voice. She looks at me for a moment. I feel like I’m starting to sweat and that usually means I’m about to throw up again. I take a few deep breaths to maintain control over my body.

“Ntando, I don’t know where this… search for validation is coming from. You know I love you just as much as I love Nkosana and Nonhle, I have never made you feel like you’re not my child. Is a car, a valueless object, really going to damage the relationship we have built over these years?” she almost sounds like she’s pleading. The more she speaks, the more my temperature rises and the less control I have. I feel like my head is going to explode.

“And on top of that, you kicked Nonhle out of here like some dog. She was only trying make peace and you…” she pauses for a moment while I fumble on the couch for my remote. “Ntando, are you okay?”

I eventually find the remote and press on it frantically, summoning Thandeka. She’s in the living room before I know it.

“Ndlovukazi?” she says.

“Please get me… a glass of water…” I say, still practically voiceless. I can’t even breathe at this point. Thandeka dashes off and returns just as quickly with a glass of ice cold water which I can hardly lift to my mouth because of my trembling hand.

“Ndlovukazi…” at this point, I’m hearing Thandeka’s voice only faintly.

“Okay, Thandeka, we need to get her to the hospital now.” Mamkhulu says and before I can say anything, I feel the glass slip through my fingers and the last thing I hear is its shattering on the tiles.

*****

I immediately recognise this room as soon as I open my eyes. It’s the royal suite at the hospital. This is where I was kept before and after giving birth. Thandeka is sitting on the couch opposite the bed, playing on her phone.

“Thandeka…” I say and she almost jumps up.

“Oh, Ndlovukazi, I’ll get the doctor.” She says before leaving the room. She returns shortly with Dr Gumede in tow. Wait… why is Dr Gumede here and not a GP?

“Ndlovukazi, how are you?” she asks. I shrug. “Well, I have good news for you. Our Queen is expecting.” She says with the biggest, most stupid smile I have ever seen.

“Expecting what?” I ask incredulously.

“Twins. Two months.” She says excitedly and I feel a lump form in my throat.

“I’m…” I can’t find my voice again.

“Pregnant. Yes, Ndlovukazi. You are carrying royal cargo.” I hate how excited she is about this.

“You said two months?” I ask and she nods. This is dangerous because in the last two months I’ve been with both Sbu and Thuto… I am now officially a woman who doesn’t know who the father of her child is. I mean children. Twice the damage if these are Thuto’s kids.

“I have prescribed medication to regulate your blood pressure so as to stop the fever and the vomiting.” She goes on. Just then, the door opens and in strides Sbu. Dr Gumede bows in acknowledgement when he greets her and then he comes over to me.

“I heard the good news.” He says, beaming from ear to ear. Sbu and I are in a good space right now, we’re trying to patch things up, so I have to maintain honesty at all times. I have to remind him that there is a possibility that he might not be the father. I give Dr Gumede a look that says she needs to leave the room and when she does, I redirect that look towards Thandeka who follows suit. Sbu makes himself comfortable on the bed next to me.

“We needed good news, Sthandwa sam… but I must ask… am I the father?” he asks. I gulp. He has this desperately hopeful look in his eyes. He is right, we do need this. We do need good news in our marriage. Sbu and I have been through so much that I cannot bear to trouble him further by planting another seed of doubt. I must protect my marriage and my place as the Queen.

“You are definitely the father. Dr Gumede gave me a timeline of when these babies were conceived. They’re definitely yours.” I say with a smile and I squeeze his hand just for extra reassurance. Relief immediately washes over his face and he flashes that beautiful Sibusiso Ngubane charmer boy smile that made me weak at the knees in the first place.

“Royal twins, huh?” he giggles. Sbu is giggling… wow.

“Double trouble.” I do my best to giggle. I’m probably creating problems for my unborn children, I’m probably going to raise commoners as royalty, I’m probably going to burn in hell.

*****

Sbu and I arrive at the palace later to find his mom and Mamkhulu drinking tea in the living room. Why is she still here?

“Sanibonani.” He says and I attempt to walk right past towards my bedroom but his mother calls me.

“Ma?” I say, turning around to face them.

“Come sit, your mother is here.” She says and I roll my eyes as I make my way to the couch. Kgomotso is not my mother, she made sure that I know that.

“Can you please give us a moment?” Mamkhulu says and Sbu and his mother reluctantly leave the room. I sink back into the couch. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” I say.

“I heard the good news, congratulations.” She says and I roll my eyes.

“Why are you still here, Kgomotso?” she looks startled by the fact that I’ve just called her by name. Why must I respect her? She doesn’t respect me.

“I don’t like how you kicked Nonhle out like she’s nothing. She’s your sister. The least you could’ve done was hear her out.” She says.

“And what difference would that have made?”

“She was telling you the truth, Ntando. And so was Thuto.”

“Oh? So, you did hook your daughter up with him even though you knew he was….” I quickly hold my tongue because I’m not sure if Sbu’s mother is out of earshot, but she knows what I’m asking. The look of shame on her face confirms that she really had no problems with her daughter dating a guy that I was sleeping with.

“It’s more complicated than that, Ntando.” She says. I shake my head, reaching for my remote and summoning Thandeka to the living room.

“Ndlovukazi.” She says when she arrives.

“Thandeka, please escort Mrs Mnguni-Zwane to her vehicle. And let the guards at the border know that she – and the rest of the Zwane family – is not welcome here anymore.” I say, looking straight into Mamkhulu’s eyes. The disbelief, the shock.

“Ntando, don’t do this. You can’t write off your own family.” Mamkhulu says.

“You are not my family! You have proven that you will always put other people before me, I will never be treated the way Nkosana and Nonhle are treated and you remind me that I am not a Zwane at every turn. You and your perfect little light-skinned family can go burn in the depths of hell. Get out of my palace!”

She stares at me for a moment before slowly getting up and walking out. I don’t need her. I don’t need any of them. I am a Mnguni by blood and a Ngubane by marriage, that’s my family. The Zwanes are dead to me.

*****

Sunday, 1 December 2041. I am exhausted, trying to recover from last night’s year-end function and yet another function awaits – the Christmas celebration. The people of Emabomvini like to party – even more so now that they have young leadership, they expect so much from us. Last night one of the farmers told me that when Sbu’s parents were still ruling, the parties were never this vibrant. I’m glad to be making my mark, considering that I planned this party single-handedly. Well, with Thandeka, of course. I’m lying on my bed staring at the laptop, searching for inspiration for a fun yet authentic Christmas party when my phone rings. It’s Aunt Violet – my real Mamkhulu.

“Hello, Mamkhulu wami.” I say. It’s always great to hear from her – I hardly ever do.

“Hi, baby girl. How are you?”

“I’m okay. To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“Woo, so formal. Anyway, I’m calling to let you know that I’m hosting everyone for Christmas, including you.”

“Where?” I ask, frowning.

“What do you mean? Kanti where do I live?”

“KwaMashu?” I realise too late that my tone was a bit judgemental. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with KwaMashu, it’s just that I’m a snob.

“Haibo, Ntandokazi.” she says, annoyed by me.

“Okay, sorry. Who all will be there?” I ask.

“Everyone. Your mom told me you’re not on good terms with Kgomotso but you’re going to have to put that aside for Christmas.”

Arg. She had to go there. I don’t want to have any interactions with those people. But I know Mamkhulu Violet, she won’t take no for an answer.

“Of course.” I say just as Sbu walks into the bedroom.

“Good. Just so you know, the invitation extends to the whole Ngubane family, not just you and your husband.”

“Alright, I’ll let them know and then I’ll tell you who’s coming.” I say while patting the bed, indicating to Sbu that he should take a seat. Mamkhulu Violet and I say our goodbyes before hanging up.

“What’s up?” Sbu asks.

“We’ve been invited to spend Christmas in KwaMashu.” I say while assuming a kneeling position and proceeding to give Sbu a shoulder massage. I like doing this lately, I find it to be a good bonding mechanism for Sbu and I.

“Do you think that’s a good idea considering that you’re not on speaking terms with half of your family?”

“Ag those ones… they are a non-factor, really. But I think I can manage to keep things civil for Christmas. Besides, Mamkhulu Violet was not going to take no for an answer.”

“Aii ngoba vele.” Sbu says and we laugh. “Well I’m sure the rest of the family can manage without us.”

I never thought Sbu and I would find our way back to each other like this. Now all I can do is hope that this Christmas thing isn’t a bad idea.

“Oh great, you’re all here. I need to talk to you.” I say as I walk into the living room and find the Queen Mother with her cubs. I take a seat on the couch facing all of them and wait until I have their attention. As a Queen, you don’t speak over chatter and fidgeting. People must be quiet, sit still and listen attentively because as a Queen, you only speak once. Repeating myself is so beneath me. Eventually, Thokozani stops stirring her tea and looks at me. I roll my eyes, this one thinks I’m afraid of her.

“Christmas is around the corner and we obviously have a tradition of celebrating with the whole kingdom and giving gifts, et cetera.” I say.

“We know this, we’ve been here longer than you.” Thokozani says.

“Good, then you’ll have no difficulty running the show without Sbu and I this year. We’ll be spending Christmas in KwaMashu with my family but I expect the Christmas celebrations here to continue as planned even in our absence.” I say.

“How are you going to be in two places at once?” Sbu’s mom asks. Sometimes I wonder what kind of queen she was… one that asked stupid questions, no doubt.

“We won’t. Sibusisekile, Muzi and Thokozani will handle things.” I say and Thokozani chokes on her tea.

“We’ve never done that before…” Muzi says.

“Yeah, it’s really more of a king and queen event.” Thokozani says.

“Well, this year it’s a royal family event. And your parents, the former king and queen, are here to teach you.” I say sternly.

“I have plans on Christmas.” Busi says nonchalantly.

“Busi, the kingdom comes first. I expect this event to be a success. That’s all.” I say before getting up and leaving the room. I hear murmuring and complaining behind me. But that’s really all they can do, isn’t it? They won’t dare say no to me. Now I have one task: mentally preparing myself for this Christmas thing.

*****

It’s Christmas morning, 5am, and Sbu and I are getting ready to leave. It’s a 90-minute drive to KwaMashu and we’d like to get there early because Mamkhulu Violet was already upset that we didn’t arrive yesterday. The Ngubanes are panicking about the Christmas celebration because they’re used to just being pretty faces and not doing any work.

“Thandeka, are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I ask her as I try to fasten Kayise’s car seat.

“Cha, Ndlovukazi. I’ll be your eyes and ears on this side. Let’s just say you need someone who will give you an unaltered account of today’s events.” She says with a smile.

“Thandeka…” I laugh.

“Ready to go?” Sbu asks as he walks towards the car.

“Are you driving?” I ask.

“Ntando, I told you we don’t need a driver and guards. We’re going to have Christmas lunch with your family. Over there, we are not the king and queen.” He says. Sbu can be so boring. I get into the passenger seat and fasten my seatbelt.

“Sibusiso, these people need to understand my magnitude. I am not just anybody.” I say and he laughs at me.

The drive was long and tiring. I think Sbu is too embarrassed to say it, but he knows I was right about the whole driver situation. We arrive at the Ndlovu family house and it’s very busy with aunts and uncles going up and down preparing things. I’m wearing a long, flowy floral dress and sandals – an outfit that does not deserve the dust and dirt with which it is being met. Sbu follows behind me with a sleeping Kayise in his arms.

“Sanibonani.” I greet the people in the yard as I walk in. They even slaughtered a goat, umcimbi mos lo. They all respond busily as Sbu and I make our way to the door of the main house.

“Woooh abasebukhosini bafika, finally.” Mamkhulu Violet, who is sitting in the living room pouring a healthy amount of mayonnaise in a bowl of potato salad, says when we walk in.

“Sawubona, Mamkhulu.” I say, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Sibusiso. Somahhashi, kunjani?” Mamkhulu says.

“Sawubona, MaNdlovu.” Sbu says with a smile.

“You can put Kayise on the bed in that room.” She says, pointing to the bedroom door to her left and Sbu does as he is told. I’m pretty sure this nap will be short-lived, though because of how busy it is here. I take a seat next to Mamkhulu and she gives me stern look.

“Cha, cha, there’s still a lot to be done. Go to the kicthen and find out how you can help.” She says.

“Awu kodwa Mamkhulu, after such a long drive?” I protest.

“Ntando, go help in the kitchen. I don’t care what happens, all I know is that this house must be clean, the food must be ready and everyone must be picture-perfect for lunch at 2pm. Go help. Oh Sibusiso, in the backyard there are some chickens that need to be slaughtered. Do best, mfanam.” She says before turning her attention back to her potato salad. Sbu immediately obliges and makes his way outside. I reluctantly get up and head towards the kitchen.

“Kodwa Mamkhulu, I’m a queen. These hands don’t peel vegetables.” I grumble as I reluctantly walk to the kitchen.

“There are no kings and queens in KwaMashu, baby girl. And make sure the food is delicious. Nobody wants diarrhea on Christmas.” She calls out.

“Sanibonani.” I say to the many women in the kitchen. Some I know, some are family and some I have never seen in my life. There’s one face, however, that I wish I didn’t have to see.

“Ntando. Hey, how are you?” she says.

“Hello Nonhle.” I say. “Ma, where can I help?” I ask one of the ladies in the kitchen.

“You can make the coleslaw. The vegetables are in the fridge in the back room.” She says and just before I can head out, Nonhle throws her arms around me.

“Merry Christmas.” She says. I give her a gentle pat with the tips of my fingernails before peeling her off me.

“Merry Christmas.” I say coldly before walking out. This is going to be a long day, especially if Nonhle is going to behave like this.

“Hau hello, Ma.” I say as I walk into the backroom and find my mother stirring a barrel of traditional beer.

“Ntandokazi. I didn’t think you were coming.” She says. I see we’re still not lovey-dovey with each other.

“No, it’s just that Sbu and I could only come this morning. Unjani, Ma?” I ask.

“I’m fine. Listen, I’m going to go find my grandchild. Keep an eye on this for me.” She says as she gets up and leaves the room. Okay, seems like the cold shoulder I was giving to Nonhle has been returned to me. No worries, though, I can make the salad from here. The fewer people I have to interact with, the better.

My mom comes back eventually just as I’m finishing with the salad.

“Take that to the kitchen, Violet is already taking stock of everything.” She says, her eyes fixated on her barrel. Screw this, I’m not gonna beg for her attention. They should be honoured to be in my presence. I left my kingdom to come mingle with them, I don’t need this. I grab the salad bowl and leave the room just in time for me to bump into the rest of the Zwane family. I suppose they spent the night at my dad’s family home up the road because there wasn’t enough space for everyone here.

“Hey Sis.” Nkosana says. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” I say, winking at him. I’d give him a hug but my hands are full. I then proceed to walk into the main house without so much as a glance at Kgomotso and her husband. Granted, Bab’omncane didn’t do anything wrong but you know what they say about the company you keep. Guilty by association.

“Oh good, there’s the last salad.” Mamkhulu says as she takes the bowl from me. “Alright ladies, let’s all go freshen up and make ourselves beautiful. Ntando, Nonhle, clean this kitchen first.”

I want to protest again but now everyone is fussing over Kgomotso.

“Well, if you want me to clean then you have to get out the kitchen.” I snap, kicking things around in search of a mop. The kitchen goes dead silent before the older ladies start yapping about how disrespectful I’ve become and how I’m nothing like my mother. Ok’salayo they’re saying all of this while making their way out of the kitchen. Like I said, a queen speaks once and things get done. Now it’s just me and Nonhle in here and the tension is thicker than the smoke in the air outside. She starts gathering all of the dishes and heading towards the sink.

“Are you washing or drying?” she asks me as the sink fills with soapy water.

“Drying.” I say. There’s silence for a while. There are many dishes to be washed and I dread every second that I have to spend with this child.

“You know, you never gave me a chance to explain –“ she starts but I interrupt her.

“For God’s sake, Nonhle, not on Christmas day. Just leave it.” I say.

“But I can’t because you hate me. You hate me because you think all of this was done to spite you and the truth is you weren’t even a factor in this whole thing. It had nothing to do with you.” She says. I’ve decided that I’m going to ignore her and just carry on with what I’m doing here. She also decides to be quiet but it doesn’t last very long.

“You remember when I came to your palace and you asked me why I wasn’t at school because it was exam time?” she says, speaking particularly softly now. As though she doesn’t want potential eavesdroppers to hear what she’s about to tell me.

“Yes, I remember.” I say.

“Well, I wasn’t at school because I got suspended… for having an inappropriate relationship with a lecturer.” She says even more softly that I almost believe I didn’t hear her.

“A lecturer?” I take a moment to process the information. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain how you ended up dating Thuto.”

“Like I said, my mom hooked us up.”

“You’re not making any sense, Nonhle.”

“The lecturer was – is – a woman… because I’m homosexual. I’m not attracted to men.” She says, keeping her eyes on the dishes in the sink. What is even going on here? There is so much happening in our little family and so many secrets being kept.

“I am so confused…” I say.

“So, this whole thing came out in the open and my parents revealed themselves to be the biggest homophobes on the African continent. Thuto’s career was thriving and my mom thought it would be a good idea for me to be seen out on the town with him… you know, to squash the scandal. Thuto told me about you guys only after the night of your birthday party. The entire time I didn’t know you two had a thing…” she stops, a lone tear gracefully sliding down her left cheek.

“So, the only person who is in the wrong here is your mother… because she knew everything… she chose to protect her own image over accepting her daughter.” I say. Nonhle has stopped washing the dishes now and she’s full on crying so I dry my hands and pull her in for a hug. She sobs on my chest for a moment before regaining her composure. She just as quickly returns to the dishes in the sink so I follow suit. I’m a mom, tear-stained clothes are nothing new to me – even if it’s the tears of a 19-year-old with heavy make-up on my brightly-coloured dress.

“Thank you for telling me… and I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance the last time.” I say. I wish Thuto would have told me immediately when Kgomotso approached him. I wish they hadn’t sprung it on me particularly when I was having a bad week. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Had I not despised Thuto and Kgomotso at that point in time, I wouldn’t have made the decision to make things right with Sbu and work on my marriage. Sbu wouldn’t have called off his wedding with Lineo, he wouldn’t have admitted to having a problem or gone for anger management classes. We wouldn’t be as happy as we are now.

“I’m just glad you know that I had no intention of hurting you.” She says, draining the water in the sink. “I’ll go get a bucket.”

*****

Lunch went by swiftly. Everyone kept to their own little circles. Sbu and I kept ourselves busy with Kayise and some of my other cousins from KwaMashu, avoiding the Zwane family. Mamkhulu Violet decided she was sick of the factions about 10 minutes ago, at around 6pm, when she called everyone to the garden to take pictures. Eventually, the photographer decides he has earned his pay and starts packing up his equipment.

“Mamkhulu Violet really went all out with this Christmas lunch, I must remember to thank her before we leave.” I say to Sbu as we disperse from the crowd.

“Ah, Nkosana. My man.” Sbu says, holding his hand out for Nkosana to shake or something. Nkosana just looks at Sbu’s hand and shakes his head. This isn’t good. Nkosana looks upset.

“Nkosana…” I say.

“Are you okay, bro?” Sbu asks, sending Nkosana into overdrive.

“I am not your bro!” he snaps, causing everyone to turn their attention to us. Even the music dies down. I look around and spot Mamkhulu Violet ushering all of the non-family members out of the yard. Yup, the party is over. Sbu looks confused. Once upon a time, these people were friends.

“Okay… um, I didn’t realise the bad blood extended to Nkosana as well.” Sbu says to me.

“There’s no bad blood between me and Ntando. I have a problem with you thinking you can treat my sister like trash and then come call me your ‘bro’ like nothing happened.” Nkosana says and now the parents have joined the party. Oh dear Lord, don’t let Nkosana air my dirty laundry at a family Christmas party. Please.

“Treat your sister like trash?” Sbu asks.

“Don’t act surprised like you didn’t hit her!” Nkosana snaps.

“Haibo!” I hear Mamkhulu Violet from a distance. Sbu doesn’t say anything. I keep my eyes on my dad who is walking towards us.

“Nkosana… how could you?” I say, barely a whisper. “Baba, stop!” I scream when my dad grabs Sbu by his shirt. He’s shaking him now and I’m trying to loosen his grip. Sbu just allows himself to be shaken around by my dad, what else is he going to do? Eventually, my dad lets go.

“Ntando, why didn’t you tell us?” My mom asks and I shrug. I don’t have a valid reason.

“You put your hands on my daughter?” My dad is basically spitting at Sbu.

“Bab’Mnguni… I… I’m sorry… I…” Sbu doesn’t even know what to say and I take hold of his hand.

“You’re sorry? Well, I’m sorry!” Dad says right before he punches Sbu on the face. The blow was hard and unexpected, sending Sbu right to the ground. I drop to my knees almost immediately, holding Sbu’s head in my arms.

“What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?” I scream at my dad.

“I can do worse!” He says as he proceeds to kick Sbu.

“Baba, stop it! Stop!” I scream to no avail. He leaves me no choice. I grab my phone and dial.

“Ntando what are you doing?” Kgomotso asks.

“Hello? Yes, I need your help. There’s a man here who is beating up my husband… I’m at number 45 Hlubikazi Street, KwaMashu… please hurry, he’s going to kill him.” I say, sounding very distraught.

“You’re calling the police? You couldn’t call the police when this one hit you.” Nkosana says.

“It’s none of your business, Nkosana. What happens in my marriage doesn’t concern any of you.” I scream, all the while trying to support my husband who is in even more pain. I soon hear the sound of a police siren and then Mamkhulu Violet tries to stop the police from coming into the yard, claiming it was all a misunderstanding. I quickly get onto my feet and rush to the gate.

“There is no misunderstanding. That man, with the red golf shirt. Arrest him.” I say, tears flooding down my face. The officers push past Mamkhulu and head directly towards my dad. Seeing Sbu laying on the ground, bleeding, was enough for them to make the arrest, despite everyone trying to tell them otherwise. Everything seems to be happening in slow-motion.

“Ntandokazi… are you really choosing this bastard over your own father?” he asks as the police handcuff him.

“I would choose him over all of you over and over again.” I say and the police take him away. He looks hurt by what I’ve just said. Well, tough, my husband is physically hurt. I help Sbu up and lead him to the car before going back into the house to fetch Kayise and the rest of our stuff. Everyone looks at me like I’m state enemy number one. I look at Nkosana one more time before I leave.

“I thought I could trust you…” I say and then turn around and head out of the gate. I’m going to drive my husband to the hospital and then we’re going to head home. So much for a happy family Christmas lunch.