HOPELESS PLACES

Chapter 1

I think my life was cursed right from my mother’s womb.

Nah, corrections- right from the sack of the monster that
violated her. My mother was born both physically and
neurologically disabled; she’s fully blind and mute. She
couldn’t give a description of a man who violated her.
She couldn't tell where and how it went down. My
grandmother discovered the pregnancy after 2 months
and kept hoping that someone would come and claim
the pregnancy. 26 years later, nobody has ever come,
justice hasn’t been served.

My love life has never been rosy. Every time I meet

someone I envision a future only to end up with a broken
heart. I don’t know why I’m crazy about men, I really
want to find love and get married. I want the whole 1970
ethical principle of a woman. Marriage, kids, husband
who dies first, insurance pay-outs and happily ever after.
But unfortunately I haven’t had a relationship that get to
“family introductions” stage.

I’ve had a lot of heartbreaks but this one takes the cup.
It’s 5pm and I’m in a pub I don’t even know, I just saw
someone who looked drunk coming out and made my
way here, in my work uniform. I’m two shots in and all
the pain just flooded back in. I liked Tom, I really did. We
were strong for four months and I honestly saw myself
walking down the aisle. I let my guard down, I thought I
was safe, I left no room for disappointment. He was
mine, I was so sure of it, until I received that phone call.
Oh, that phone call!
“I need another shot,” I say to the bartender.
He gives me a judgmental look before serving me.
Some people don’t know how to mind their fuckin’
business.

So, back to the phone call. It was the wife calling me

using Tom’s phone. Yes, he’s been married all this time.
One thing men have shown me is consistency in not
giving a fuck about women. He had the nerve to text me
yesterday and say he moved out of the main bedroom
and talked to his lawyers about divorce. Tom
underestimates my intelligence too much, he could've
come up with a better lie. I have been heartbroken
before, I know heartbreak, but this one is a discovery
shem.
I hate everything with a letter T, including tequila.

“Having a good time?” asks someone standing next to

me.
Today is just not the day, trust me.
“What do you want?” I don’t even have the energy to
look at him.
“I’m just saying hello,” he says.
“Hello and goodbye.” I don’t want company, I hate men
with passion and I’m definitely not interested in a man
who hangs out in a pub on a Thursday evening.
“I’m sure a stupid man is behind this.” He’s not
determined to leave me alone and in his stupid head I’m
going to open up to a total stranger about why I’m sad.
“Dude, go away!” I turn my eyes to him. Uh, no. It’s not a
dude, this man is old enough to be my uncle and he’s in
a suit looking so respectable.
“You have a young man’s voice,” I probably shouldn’t
have said this, I’m just surprised. He sounds better than
he looks. He’s probably in his late 40s owning a few
trucks, with a wife at home and chicks at the side.
“If that’s a compliment, thank you,” he says.
“No, it wasn’t but it’s okay. I’m sorry I was rude, I thought
it was one of these punks who take chances with every
woman they see sitting alone. Do you want a shot? A
beer? Should I order you something?” Oh gosh, I’m not
even among the top earners at work, I don’t know why
I’m being so generous.
He ignores me and asks, “You work at New Universe?
My friend was once a chief director officer there.”
Ow, here comes the rich friends stories! He’s definitely a
fake blesser, he wants me to be hooked and fooled into
thinking that he’s rich.
“Where else did you have friends? Parliament?” I’m
already tipsy, this is cracking my ribs.
“Well, I know a few people in there,” he falls right into
the trap. Now I’m convinced even this suit he’s wearing
is fake.
“I’m Xolani Hadebe,” he extends his hand for a shake.
“Nice to meet you, I guess ‘they’ call you Mr X.” I’m
talking about the young girls he lures into his fake, flashy
life.
“I’m Nale, short for Nalenhle. Everything about me
comes in abundance, as my name says. I just don’t
know if it’s really good abundance because yoh, life is
showing me flames.”
“Nice to meet you, Nale.” He stretches a thin smile that
doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I was seeing a married man not knowing that he was
married. The wife called me.” I might as well tell him the
story since he already knows my name.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says with an awkward
chuckle.
“His name was Tom,” I tell him.
He nods, so I take it he wants to hear more. I take him
back to the beginning when Tom asked me out for the
first time. By the time I finish telling the story he’s
already Team Nale. I didn’t deserve what Tom did.
“Anyway, what’s up with a suit in a pub?” I ask.
“I’m coming from my late brother’s firm, I was holding a
meeting with his employees so I had to look
representable,” he says.
“Mmm, nice. Sorry about your brother.” I shouldn’t have
said this together with the word “nice.” It didn’t sound
right.
“Thanks, we are burying him on Saturday,” he says.
Now I’m sad for him, I thought he’s been dead for some
time, not someone who’s still in the mortuary. He’s
probably here out of grief and I’m going on and on about
a married man that fucked me while his wife was at
home.
“I’m really sorry Tom,” I say.
He chuckles, “Thanks Nale.”
Oh fuck, did I call him Tom?
“I saw you sitting alone, drinking by yourself and thought
there must be a reason such a young, beautiful lady is
here. I can give you a good platform to release all these
emotions and cry as much as you want.”
“A crying platform?” I’ve never heard of it.
“A funeral. My brother’s funeral. You can come and cry. ”
Oh, funny man! He keeps making me laugh.
“That’s a good one,” I laugh.
“No, I’m serious. I will compensate you fairly if you can
do that for me,” he says.
“Compensate me for crying at your brother’s funeral?
Yini, did everyone hate him?” I’m confused. Didn’t his
brother have wife and kids who will cry for him when the
coffin goes down?
He glances at his surroundings and then leans closer to
me. “No, I want you to come and cry as if you were his
side-chick."
“Oh!” I’m puzzled by this.
“Can you do that for me?”
Can’t I get a minute to think about it?
“I can compensate for your time, R3k.”
“For crying?” I’m stunned.
Never have I ever been promised money for crying!
“Important detail; crying like you were his sidechick," he
says.
Whose rich uncle is this? I can even faint, R3k is a lot of
money.
“Can I ask why you want to do this to your brother?” I’m
curious because it sounds like his brother was a
businessman, even in his death there’s a status to
uphold and protect.
“It’s between me and his wife,” he says.
“Did he have kids?” I want to know how many lives am I
going to ruin with this.
“Two sons and one daughter. All grown up, they
understand such things happen in marriage.”
It’s a tough one, I think it is going to be one of those
classy funerals with a dress code, media coverage,
black limos and flying doves.
“Let me think about it, Mr Hadebe.” I don’t want to come
across as desperate, I’m also going to need more than a
promise, maybe a deposit before the funeral.
He offers to settle my bill before leaving. I don’t know
when I got sober, Tom is no longer on my mind, now I’m
more interested in the Hadebes. I know Google and
social media will never fail me.

I type his name on the Facebook search button and a

few profiles pop up. His is easily identifiable, he’s got a
number of followers and only business related posts on
his timeline. There’s one recent post that has funeral
announcement with details and tags. One tagged name
is Nzalo Hadebe, he has a photo of the late Sbusiso
Hadebe on his profile with a caption; Rest Easy, Dad.
This is my “stepson” and he looks old enough, maybe
he’s in his mid-30s. His uncle was right, they’re old
enough to understand that side-chicks exist. I’m going to
take this gig and do a stellar job, his uncle will even
consider giving me a bonus.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 2

It’s Friday morning, whether I like it or not I have to be at

work and write the day. My head is pounding, I’m only
able to stand my breath because obviously I can’t kill
myself. A walk to the bathroom feels like Mandela’s long
walk to freedom. Two minutes feel like twenty seven
years.
I get to the bathroom door and turn the handle,
someone blocks it.
“I’m inside,” that’s my cousin’s voice, Zola, yelling from
inside.
See why I need to get rich and find my own separate
place. We left home and decided to share rent and live
together. It made financial sense when we did it. But
now I’m heartbroken, hung-over and late for work, and I
still have to wait for her to finish her bath first.
I wait by the door with my eyes closed. I need to eat
something and take pills, otherwise this headache is
going to kill me. Zola finally opens the door and walks
out naked.
“Don’t tell me you were out drinking last night,” she’s
coming from a night shift.
“I didn’t spend my money,” I justify myself. Yes, at first I
was going to spend my money, but my guardian angel
came over and settled my bill.
“A kind man settled my bill and offered me a job,” I put
her out of the misery.
Her eyes stretch out in disbelief. “A man offered you a
job in a bar, in this economy? No CV, no interview?”
She’s too rational, you can’t rationalize everything in life.
“Once-off gig; I have to cry in a funeral,” I say.
She holds her chest, bursting into laughter. It sounds
funny, except that I’m not laughing, it did happen and I
am going to cry in a funeral.
“Let me take a bath, I will brief you about everything.
And by the way, I’m going to be R3k richer,” I say and
rush inside the bathroom, disregarding her yelled
questions. I might need her to come with me, in case I
over-cry and need someone to hold me.

I take a cold bath and shiver throughout. Fridays are

short, I’m not too worried about my bossy line manager,
I only have to tolerate her for a few hours and then I
won’t have to see her wrinkled face for two days.
Zola should be in bed getting a rest, but she’s waiting for
me on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders. I
take my cosmetic basket to lotion in front of her while
taking her back to Xolani Hadebe’s ambush.
“What is the catch?” she asks.
Zola watches too many Chinese movies. Not everything
has a catch, some people are just lucky.
“He said it’s between him and his late brother’s wife. To
be honest with you, I don’t care about anything. I will go
there and cry, then I will get my money and never see
any of them again.”
“Nale, you’re going to ruin a man’s reputation,” she says.
Obviously she didn’t hear me saying the man is dead.
“What reputation? He’s dead.” I gather my things and
leave her with her thousand questions.
Oh, wait.
I turn back, “You have to help me get an outfit at the mall
after work.”
“Siyoyicela ivuthiwe!” she claps her hands in despair.
She will eat her words when I’m R3k richer, let me go to
work.
-
-
-
I work for wiring harness manufacturers as a general
worker. I’m on my feet most of the times, being
screamed at and running between engineers and
assembly machines. I don’t hate my job, but I don’t like it
either. I work the hardest, most of us general workers
do, and we get paid the least. People like MaKhoza just
put on their ironed uniforms and chew gum the whole
day then get paid large sums of money. Not to mention
that they’re driving company cars and kicking up dust to
our faces on the road.

I check my watch for time and remember that the battery

died a month ago and I never renewed it. I’m not a
perfectly detailed individual, I let a lot of things slide. I’m
a total opposite of my perfectionist cousin. I have gladly
worn a watch that stopped working a month ago. Right
now both my watch and I don’t know what the time is. I
have no choice but to turn to MaKhoza.
“MaKhoza what is the time?” I ask her, she has her
phone in her hand, Whatsapp’ing.
“Get the work done Nalenhle, you’re still here for
another hour.”
Urgh, I thought it was close to 3pm. I have an important
gig to find an outfit for. I hope Zola hasn’t forgotten
because she’s going to the mall with me.

An hour feels like a day under MaKhoza’s supervision.

She knows that most of us don’t like her. I’m not sure if
we don’t like her because she screams when doing her
job or we low-key want her job for ourselves. I internally
scream Hallelujah when I see her walking in and
checking the panels. Finally, I can get out of this place
and call it a week. I’m going straight home, I catch a taxi
and call Zola informing her that I’m on my way. I haven’t
practiced tomorrow’s act, I hope I have a Mercy Johnson
in me that’s going to pop out and pull an Oscar winning
performance.

I walk in to Zola cuddled up on the couch in her hideous

pyjamas.
“You’re still not ready?”
“Nale, you have to stop this.”
Gosh! I don’t need another lecture.
“I researched about them, this Xolani man is not good.
He didn’t get along with his brother, he’s using you to
hurt his wife and that’s not okay. She’s a God-fearing
woman who loves giving back to the community,” she
says.
God-fearing? I’m sure she’s a prayer warrior. She’s
going to pray, God will never give her more than what
she can handle. I will go and get the dress without Zola.
I don’t think she will accompany me tomorrow, I may go
alone, as a solo act.

My phone rings, I’m walking back to the road to catch a

taxi, Zola just ruined my mood. The caller is persistent
and getting me irritated.
“I was going to call you back,” I say.
I don’t know who this is, I’m just irritated that he’s not
dropping the call.
“Always in a bad mood, huh?"
I remember his voice very well. It sounds even more
good over the phone.
“Mr X?” I’ve been waiting for his call.
“I know you’re back from work. Can we meet at the mall
in an hour?”
“I’m on my way there as we speak.” I’m happy, we are
going to seal this deal, I need my deposit today. I’m
going to buy Zola a pair of cheap earrings, just to prove
her wrong.
-
-
-

I would’ve loved this car better if it was black, I’m

obsessed with everything black except being blacklisted.
It’s suede in colour, a very ridiculous choice. But it’s a
Jaguar, he’s black and he owns it. I’ve never been inside
a Jaguar before, it took everything in me not to scream
when it pulled up after our brief meeting. He’s not
driving, someone else is on the wheel. This man is
wealthy, even if this breaks his brother’s children he will
take them to psychological counselors, they will be fine.
He didn’t tell me the reason why he wants his brother’s
wife to think she was cheated on, I didn’t bother him with
a lot of questions either. I know his late brother’s favorite
restaurants, hang-out spots and I have some fabricated
texts screenshots, in case anyone questions if I really
knew him. Mr X has assured me that nothing is going to
come back to me, after my act they will be too busy
fixing the family and protecting their image. I don’t see
anyone standing on my way.

I’m outside, I can see Zola standing by the window. I’m

sure now she regrets not coming with me, both of us
would’ve ridden this Jaguar.
“Is that your mother Nalenhle?” Mr X asks.
I laugh thinking how angry this can make Zola, she’s
only three years older than me.
“My cousin,” I say.
“Oh, my bad. How is Tom?”
I roll my eyes. Before he mentioned him, I didn’t even
remember that Tom exists. I drank him away yesterday,
he no longer holds any power over me.
“We will talk via Whatsapp, Mrs Tom,” he teases.
I bid goodbye and climb out of the Jaguar. They drive
away, I’m poor again.
-
-
-

Zola is only here because she’s protective of me. She

didn’t approve of this but she helped me dress up abe
did my hair. I have to look like a proper sidechick,
someone who’d make a married man forget his vows,
that’s why I’m in high heels. I have to adjust the brim of
my hat every now and then to be able to see where I’m
going, it’s quite huge.
We’ve made it to the venue, the service has already
commenced. Zola is holding my arm, I don’t do well in
heels, she says I bend my knees and look funny. At least
with her holding me I feel safe enough to walk straight
and not bend my knees.
Didn’t I say there will be cameras here?
“Oh my word, the coffin!” Zola whispers.
It’s a beautiful, gold-plated coffin. Ever seen a coffin so
beautiful that you even wish it was you lying dead
inside? This funeral looks more beautiful than my
uncle’s wedding.
My eyes are searching for Mr X but I don’t see him. We
are ushered to empty chairs and given the program, with
two bottles of water.
“Sorry, sorry,” a girl whispers, leaning to us. “Have you
guys joined Abathwali Funeral Services?”
What the eff? We are not here because we want to die.
“Please leave us alone,” Zola politely turns her away.
I’m not sure she did that with anyone else here.
Opportunists are everywhere, even in funerals.
My phone vibrates, I check the text, it comes from an
unsaved number. It’s almost time, I give Zola my phone
and glasses. I also need to take these heels off.
“Don’t let me fall down,” I say to her.
She heaves a low sigh. I’m going to compensate her for
this, she mustn’t worry.
I don’t even know who’s that, she’s talking about Mr
Sbusiso’s loving character and how he always put a
smile on everyone’s face. All it takes is for me to think
about how I was born. I was born to no father, by a
mother who’s never said a word to me or seen my face
because of her disabilities. Zola calls her mother
everyday and chat to her. My mother is also alive but we
can’t talk.
I’m crying about everything; my life and Tom. Now I want
to throw myself on the floor but Zola isn’t close enough. I
have attracted a lot of attention.
“Sbusiso why? Why, my love?” I keep saying.
The hall just went dead quiet, this is exactly how Mr X
wanted this.
“Vuka Sbusiso, wake up.” I’m running towards the coffin.
I hope they closed it well.
Someone grabs me and holds me back. It’s not Zola, but
a guy in a black suit. Zola isn’t committed in doing her
job. I should’ve hired this man right from the start.
He’s pulling me outside, there’s a girl following us with a
bottle of water.

I stop crying once we are outside. Why the hell is Zola

not coming out? I need my heels.
“You can go back inside, I will take care of it,” says the
guardian angel who held me to the lady. She gives me a
bottle of water and returns inside.
“Who are you?” the guy asks.
I look at him, careful now with no tears in my eyes.
Damn, it’s the deceased son I saw on Facebook.
Do I start crying again?
“Hey!” he sharply stops me.
I hold it back. “I’m sorry to come like this, I just wanted to
see him one last time.”
“Who are you?” His voice is firmer than before.
I take a deep breath and tell him. “I’m Nalenhle, your
father and I were together. I know this is a shocker and
trust me, I didn’t want to cause a scene. Just
that…seeing him like that…I never thought.”
“Stop, just stop, okay? I need you to take your little
friend and leave,” he says, pointing at me with a
trembling finger.
Zola comes out on time. This guy isn’t playing with me. I
thought Mr X would come and save me, but I guess he
wanted things to end like this. I grab my sunglasses and
heels from her.
“Let’s go,” I say.
I take one step forward, his hand grabs me.
I look at him, a bit shaken.
“See you soon, mamncane,” he says.
My chest starts rolling drums. I feel threatened, which
wasn’t part of the plan. Mr X needs to sort this out, he
said nothing will come after me. I don’t want to see this
Nzalo guy soon, I’m not his mamncane.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 3
I spent the last six days obsessing about the Hadebes, I
was paranoid everyday thinking someone would show
up at work and ask me questions. But as Mr X promised,
nothing has happened. What I did was scandalous but it
didn’t make it to the media, I guess they’ve fixed their
reputation and moved on.
It’s my payday, I’m going home to see my mom. With the
extra money that I hustled on the side, I’m going to add
more to the grocery money than I usually do. I’m not a
breadwinner at home, I only contribute whatever I want
to contribute, my mother receives disability grant and
that’s solely what she raised me up with.

My mother lives with my uncle and his wife, Zola’s

parents. We are a small family, our bond is unbreakable.
I may have rebelled as a teen and almost ruined my
relationship with my uncle, but now I’m grown and
responsible. I still drink and party, but there’s a limit to
everything. I respect his house rules when I’m home,
even though some are stupid, like not wearing pants and
short skirts.
I have to go to the house and change into a dress that
covers my knees before taking a taxi home. Zola works
for the same company as me, but she’s a nightshift
squad, most of the times our dates of visiting home
clash. I’m leaving her in bed, about to get up and ready
herself for her shift. She gave me R300 to give to her
mother. Zola is every parent’s dream child. I also want
my children to take after her when I have them. Zola
minds her own business, she’s never been in any dating
scandal, and she’s a non-alcoholic family-loving
daughter.

I was every parent’s worst nightmare growing up. My

uncle once got so fed up, he ended up saying I was
doing everything to exploit the fact that my mother is
blind and she can’t say anything to me because she’s
mute. I will never forget those words, I cried myself to
sleep that night. I vowed to prove him wrong and not
end up on the streets with kids from different
babydaddies. I can say now he’s proud of me, even
though he hasn’t said it out loud. In my grocery shopping
I included peanut butter and a sack of oranges because
I know how much he loves them.

I call him when the taxi gets closer to my stop and ask
that he sends Thami to come and help me carry. Thami
comes after Zola, they’re over a decade apart, he’s
currently doing Grade 11. He’s a humble child, we invite
him to visit us during school holidays. I find him already
waiting with a wheelbarrow. He helps the taxi driver to
offload everything. In Mthonjaneni you pay for a ride and
pay for your groceries, each heavy item gets charged for
like it was also a passenger. I wait for the driver to count
how much me and my grocery cost, I end up paying
R65. I need to win a car, I’m going to continue entering
card-scratching competitions because this is daylight
robbery.
Thami is a typical boy child, I’m asking him for an
update, like who fought with who and who’s pregnant,
but he just shrugs and says nothing much is happening
in the village. My aunt will give me a detailed update.
My mom hears my voice as I walk through the door and
smiles. She knows my voice, she can tell when I’m
standing next to her; we have a magical connection. I
thank my uncle everyday for not abandoning her when
my grandmother died, instead he got married and
moved his wife in with my mother. His wife is the primary
caregiver, I didn’t believe in angels before meeting this
woman but now I do.

I greet them, my uncle doesn’t even wait for me to sit

down before updating me about his sheep. I don’t care
for animals, I only love them when they’re dead and I’m
eating their meat.
“That cream one just gave birth, surprisingly her lamb is
a moorit breed like it’s from Scotland.” He’s smiling as
he tells me the news. I’m thinking maybe his sheep
found a moorit boyfriend. It is not a big deal but I have to
play along and ask a couple of questions about it.
His wife saves me. “Your mom has been excited all day
after I told her you’re coming home. Don’t mind his
sheep stories.”
My mother can’t communicate but she can respond to
my voice with her body language. She’s into perfumes, I
take her hand and spray the new one I bought for her.
She smells it and smiles, nodding her head. She likes it,
I hold her hand and sit next to her.
“Did Zola send anything for me?” Auntie asks.
“Yeah, she said it’s for stokvel though.” I direct her to the
purse for it.
“Your uncle will cover the stokvel, I need to pay for
Manono’s Tupperware. I’ve been owing her for two
months now,” she says folding the R300 and shoving it
between her breasts.
She distributes the goodies I came with for Thami and
his friend. My uncle only eats his oranges and goes
outside to fix his sheep kraal. It gets fixed everyday, he’s
obsessed with his sheep.

“I thought you’d dropped off by that expensive black car

from last month,” auntie says. She’s the only person
who’s always been cool with any boyfriend that I date. I
don’t introduce boyfriends, her husband is strictly
against men who date the Thabethe girls. Zola is 29 but
he still wants no man next to her unless they’re coming
with a herd of cattle for lobola. She saw me and Tom
severally.
“We broke up,” I tell her.
She’s trying not to laugh. “What happened?”
“We just decided it wasn’t working.” I can’t mention that
he was married because I’ve lied too much, she won’t
believe me if I tell her I didn’t know beforehand.
“Let’s hope you will take a little break to focus on
yourself. Your heart and body need to rest,” she says.
My mother squeezes my hand and nods. I don’t think I
need to take any break, as long as my heart is still
beating. I will stop the day I wake up in the hospital and
have the doctors telling me that my heart can’t handle
more pain.

It’s automatically my turn to cook dinner. Taps are not

working, I’m told I have to go and wait for the water truck
with Thami. This is what I hate the most about life in the
rural areas. There’s a lack of community services but
we’ve been voting like any other South African. I have to
get in my rural girl element. I wear my auntie’s apron
and tie a doek around my head. Wearing socks is
essential for your legs, we walk among insects and
spiders.

There are people I don’t like, specifically in this area. But

I have to join them in waiting because I need water. My
former best friend, Khanyisa, is here too. We were
friends until high school, she was almost like a sister to
me. Then her mother said something about my mom. I
have a good heart and I respect my elders, but there’s
one line nobody should ever cross. Anyone who speaks
ill of my mother is provoking the socket of my eye.
Khanyisa couldn’t see her mother’s wrongdoing, that’s
how we ended. My mother was born disabled, claiming
that she wasn’t raped and she’s hiding the truth about
my father hurt me to the core. I do have questions that I
haven’t asked anyone in the family because I don’t want
it to look like I’m accusing them of something. They were
taking care of my mother before I was even born. It
doesn’t help that I look like her mother, my grandmother.
I can’t even search for someone who looks like me and
hope that he's my father. All my features belong to my
grandmother.

Khanyisa is coming to us. We haven’t spoken in years,

I’m not sure why she wants to be on my face.
“Thami, you have to hold me back if you see that I’m
about to do something crazy,” I say.
“Hhayi sisi, don’t beat her,” Thami laughs and stands
behind the wheelbarrow.
Khanyisa comes, she stands in front of me.
I keep my eyes away from her, her mother called my
mom a blind, sex addict.
“I haven’t seen you in a long time, Nale,” she says.
I turn my eyes to her. Shem, she looks worse than
before, motherhood isn’t pap and vleis.
“Hey Khanyisa,” I’m just being polite.
“I saw you arriving earlier but I was far, I couldn’t say
hello.”
I’m not a good pretender, this small talk is getting boring.
“How is work?” she asks.
“It’s okay, I can’t complain,” I say.
“I know we don’t talk but if something comes up, please
let me know. Things are not good, I’m struggling,” she
says.
“You’re struggling?” I’m surprised by her telling me this.
Khanyisa has pride, we were once best friends I know
how she protects her ego.
“I have a child, Nale, and her dad has been gone ever
since,” she says.
“I’m sorry to hear that. There’s nothing yet but if there’s a
post I will tell Thami and he’d come and tell you. You
need to look in call centers as well,” I say.
She rolls her eyes, “With what English?”
I burst out laughing. I forgot how crazy and brutally
honest she is.
She turns one of our buckets and sits on it, then we start
catching up. My family won’t approve of us being friends
again but it’s nice talking to someone who’s known me
half of my life. Nothing happened between her and I, we
got caught up in our mother’s issues.
-
-
-
It’s Sunday, I have to leave, tomorrow I’m going to work.
I’m helping auntie with laundry, she does a lot, alone. I’m
washing my mother’s clothes while she deals with the
rest. I don’t want her to get any surprises, I decide to tell
her about my reconciliation with Khanyisa.
She’s not welcoming of the idea. “Her mother has a foul
mouth, I really don’t want them anywhere near us. If it
was up to me, you’d keep away from that girl too.”
“She kind of apologized and said her mother always
talks about me,” I say.
“Saying what about you? She needs to stay out of
izindaba zakwaThabethe and mind her own business.”
She’s not hearing any of it.
Khanyisa’s mother was once like a second mother to
me. I just wish she can come and properly apologize to
everyone. I’d like to meet Khanyisa’s baby.
“Auntue, do you really think nobody knows who my
father was?” I’ve never asked this question out loud, I
just go with the flow. But it really doesn’t add up because
my mom stays indoors, she doesn’t go anywhere unless
there’s someone holding her hand.
“Nalenhle! This is exactly why I don’t like Khanyisa and
her mother. Rinse and go hang all the T-shirts on the
line.” She dismisses me.
I guess I will never know.

They all walk me to the taxi stop and wait for transport
with me. I’m sure Zola didn’t wash my work uniform, I’m
going to start another pile of laundry when I get to turn
house. Saying goodbye to my family is always hard
even though I see them every month.
I arrive in town and buy a few things for tomorrow’s
lunch and fried chicken for dinner. Zola is not a fan of
cooking, I’m sure she survived on bread the whole
weekend. I always feel good when I’m coming from
home. My uncle strongly believes in ancestors, he
makes little speeches in the alter before you go. That
just boosts my level of confidence and feeling safe.
I know my ancestors are with me. I get off the taxi, it’s a
bit dark, but I bravely cross the road and head to my
rented house. Zola has already left, the light is off.

A car swiftly pulls up behind me. I can hear wheels

scratching the surface. I turn my head and see that it’s
not a phara driving. This is a nice car, I just don’t know
why it’s stopping behind me.
“Hello,” the person says, opening the door and climbing
out.
I don’t know who this is, it’s a young boy. I can’t clearly
see his face because our street light is not working but
with the little moonlight I can see that he’s wearing a
leather jacket and has a chiskop.
“What do you want? I’m going to scream,” I ask.
This is a safe neighborhood, that’s why we came here
and left cheaper areas. But I still feel uncomfortable
because he just pulled up unexpectedly.
“I’m sorry, I was waiting for you all day, your cousin said
you’d back earlier,” he says.
So it’s not someone who’s here to harm me?
“Your name?” I ask.
“Msindisi Hadebe.”
Oh, hell no. Not the Hadebes!
“My brother sent me to give you this.” He’s passing an
envelope to me.
Nzalo? I don’t think this envelope carries any good
news.
But I don’t panic in front of his little brother, I thank him
and walk inside the house.

I throw everything on the floor and lock the door. My

hands are sweating. It’s a handwritten letter, signed by
Mr Nzalo Hadebe. He’s inviting me to his father’s life
celebration that’s going to be held in a private lodge.
I saw him, he doesn’t look like a kind person. What
game is he playing?
I take out my phone and quickly call Mr X.
It rings once and drops. Wait, I’m blocked. What the fuck
is wrong with this uncle? He’s left me in a mess, his
brother’s sons now think I was truly in their father’s life,
they’ve hunted down my address to deliver invitation
letters.
Nale what have you gotten yourself into?
2023/10/10, 09:48 - TSI: HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 4
All Zola keeps telling me is that she told me so. I had to
call Mr X using a different number, he said he’s in
Pretoria for business and we’ll talk when he comes
back. But I don’t know if I will be still alive by the time he
comes back. What if this Nzalo person is a murderer?
I have declined the invitation, I’m just not going to show
up. But I feel like this is just the beginning, he’s not
going to back down until he gets what he wants. I’m
going to work, Zola is coming back from her shift and
sleeping. I remind her to keep the doors locked. Msindisi
might pop up with another delivery from his brother.

I invited drama into my life. I never thought there would

be a time when I prefer being around MaKhoza than
being in my house. I feel safer at work, I know nobody is
going to come here. If it was up to me I’d ask for double
shifts and permanently stay here. The clock seems to be
working against me, when I have to leave it feels like I
just got here. I’m always paranoid about cars pulling up
behind me. I swear if I see Msindisi again I will scream
so hard, the community will come out and put a tyre
around his neck.
“Nale!” someone yells my name before I exit the gate.
I look back, it’s someone by the parking lot. I think he
works for the line next to mine. I don’t pay attention to
the guys I work with because I know how much they get
paid. I ignore him and keep walking.
My eyes are on the left, where taxis come. I just want to
get home. A white quantum appears, I step closer to the
road and make a signal. It stops but nobody opens the
door. I’m the only person on the road, my colleagues are
still gossiping inside.
I open the door and climb inside. It’s empty, there’s no
other passenger. I’m a little bit suspicious so I look at the
driver, he also looks at me.
“Long day?” he asks.
“Ah, you don’t want to know!”
I’m so relieved, I thought it would be Msindisi.
He gets more passengers as we go, I take it upon
myself to open doors and count change.
By the time I get to my stop we are chatting like old
friends. He takes his chance and asks for my number, I
give him and change the last digit.

I’m going to cook and iron for tomorrow, then rest.

Dealing with MaKhoza is both physically and mentally
draining. I push the door and take off my boots by the
door.
“Zola!” I yell.
This girl could be sleeping and forgetting that she’s
going to work.
She’s not responding, I walk inside speaking to myself. I
almost die and resurrect when I see a man with long
legs sitting on the couch. His legs are so long, they
almost push our TV stand. I’m seeing him in casual
clothes and he just decided to wear black, like he’s a
murderer that I’ve suspected him to be.
I’m scared but I conceal it as I walk in.
“Zola has already left,” he says, lifting his face.
I’m sober minded, in true character. He looks like his
uncle, Mr X. But he looks less warm and friendly, his
voice doesn’t sound sexy, it’s just gruff.
“And she left you here?” I ask, uncomfortably.
Zola knows that I don’t want anything to do with these
people. Why didn’t she call the police?
“I’m your stepson, she obviously didn’t see any problem.
Do you?” He has grabellar lines between his eyebrows,
they make him look bitter without being bitter.
“I didn’t expect you, I don’t like surprise visitors,” I say.
“My apologies,” he says.
I don’t think he means it; he’s still sitting with his legs
stretched.
“Your TV is off,” he says.
We haven’t paid DSTV, not that it’s any of his business.
“This is not a cinema,” I say.
His grabellar lines shrink deeper. But he holds his peace
and doesn’t say anything.
I’m not comfortable, I don’t even know where to sit, we
only have one couch.
“I sent you an invitation. Should I wait for you to get
dressed?”
“But the celebration was yesterday,” I’m confused.
“Yeah, but I invited you and that still stands.”
My chest is dry. I’d like a glass of water.
“I’ve been waiting for too long, please hurry.” He drops
his eyes back to his phone.
I’m not going anywhere with him. I don’t know him, I
don’t know his father, I don’t trust him.
“I’m not going,” I tell him.
“But you came to the funeral, I’m sure coming to
celebrate him with his kids is also the right thing to do.
Wind your neck in and get real!” He gets up and pushes
his phone in his back pocket.
I’m coming from work, I need to at least freshen up
before going wherever he’s taking me. I close my
bedroom door, he’s on his feet worked up. I have to text
Zola and tell her where to look for me if I happen not to
come back home today.

I take a quick bath and slip into my jeans and poloneck. I

make a small prayer before stepping out. Zola calls me,
I silence the phone because of the cold stare from my
so-called stepson. For now I’m not sure if he really
thinks I was with his father or he knows that I’m lying.
How did I not see his car parked across the road?
I feel a bit kidnapped, if there’s anything like that. Yes,
he didn’t put a gun on my head and he’s not pulling me,
I’m walking to the car on my own. However, I feel
kidnapped, he didn’t really give me a choice but to do as
he instructed.
Zola calls again, I’m inside the car now.
I answer, I want him to know that if anything happens to
me Zola will tell the police.
“Hey mzala,” I answer in a bold voice.
“You scared me. Did he do anything to you?”
“No, I’m going to a little ceremony right now with him,
Nzalo Hadebe. Let my friend, Sergeant Cele, know that I
will be off Whatsapp for a few hours,” I say, loud.
“Who is Sergeant Cele?”- Zola.
You’d swear she’s 6 years old. Sergeant Cele is my
nonexistent police friend who arrests and shoots people.
“Tell malume too,” I say.
“Okay, answer your phone ke please.”
I drop the call and put my phone back inside my purse. I
glance at him, he’s driving unbothered. Didn’t he hear
me talking about my close dangerous people?

I’ve watched too many movies, I thought he’d pull up in

some warehouse and tie me up on the chair. But we are
in a house. It's fully furnished but in an old style. I doubt
anyone lives here but it doesn’t look like people die here
either.
“Where is the celebration?” I ask.
He looks at my face like he’s studying me and doesn’t
answer.
The door opens, Msindisi walks in with a young
gentleman in a suit.
Is he also a guest? I’m not seeing anything here, not
even a single flower.
“Ngiba!” Nzalo shakes his hand.
I didn’t think he knows how to pull his face together and
look welcoming.
“This is Nale. Do you recognize her?”
The gentleman looks at me, then shakes his head.
“Not from anywhere?” Nzalo.
“No, I don’t know this face. As I told you, the only other
woman I know is that one who worked at Spar. I went
everywhere with your father. You know I know
everything he did and had plans of doing.”
Is this Mr Sbusiso’s right handman? If that’s the case
then my game is over.
But I can’t just give up without trying.
“Why am I here?” I ask.
“I’m trying to figure out who you are,” he says.
“I’m Nale. Is there a celebration of Sbusiso’s life or not?
Don’t waste my time.” I pretend to be angry, but the truth
is I’m shit scared.
“You didn’t date my father. You are not his type,” he
says.
“I was his type.” Who the fuck is he to tell me that? I was
his father’s type, that’s why I’m here.
“You’re just a regular girl, I know for certain that you
didn’t date him. What would’ve been special about you?”
What is special about his mother?
“I’m beautiful, I’m independent, I know what I want and I
speak my mind.”
“Do you think other people speak their stomachs?
Everyone speaks their mind and there are millions of
other beautiful, independent women.” He clicks his
tongue and turns to the gentleman. They hold a low
conversation. I’m standing at the side seething with
anger. One thing I know for sure is that his father did
have a side-chick, it just wasn’t me.
He looks at Msindisi and says, “Talk to her, maybe you
will understand her better as her agemate.”
Then he walks out with the Ngiba man.

Msindisi could be around my age, he’s very handsome

compared to Nzalo. I can breathe in his presence, he’s
not an asshole, or doesn’t look like one.
“Why exactly am I here?” I ask him.
“Ma wants to meet you, she’s a kind woman. If you
really were with my father she will share some of his
memories with you, just to give you closure. But you’re
dramatic and you didn’t respect our family in the funeral,
that’s why we doubt that Hadebe could’ve been involved
with you. As much as he liked women a little bit, you just
don’t look like his type.”
I don’t know why it irks me so much that they keep
saying this. I’m everyone’s type, if their father had really
met me he would’ve liked me. There’s nothing not to like
about me. I can end this right now and tell him the truth.
Mr X will deal with his mess when he comes back.
But something in me just doesn’t give up easily. I can’t
be casted out because him and Nzalo think I wasn’t their
father’s type. They’re disrespectful children.
“Your father wanted to marry me,” I say.
“Quit playing!” he laughs and stands up.
I’m not laughing. I may not have the ring but people do
propose without them.
He composes himself and sits again. “Hadebe didn’t like
polygamy. He’s never promised anyone marriage, not
even the ones who stuck around the longest. He made
vows only to one woman…okay two, but our biological
mother is late.”
Wait, so they’re not the current wife’s kids but they’re
bothering me like this!
“I know my truth, you don’t have to believe me. Your
father and I loved each other,” I say.
“How did you meet?” he asks.
“I met him in a restaurant, I can give you the name and
date. He was a sushi man, that’s just one of many things
that we had in common. One thing I hated was his taste
in music though, especially Madala Kunene.” I’m just
going on the script that Mr X gave me.
“How long were you together?” he asks.
“Almost a year,” I say.
“Didn’t you know that he was married?”
“I did. Didn’t he know that he was married?”
He sighs and gets up again. He disappears in the
passage and comes back with bottles of water. Just
water. His brother kidnapped me coming back from
work.
“I’m hungry,” I say.
“There’s no food here. Did you ever come to this
house?”
“No,” I say.
His look confuses me. Should I have said yes?

The door opens, Nzalo walks in. My comfort ends before

he even says anything.
He looks at Msindisi and gets a hopeless shrug. Msindisi
now believes that I was seeing his father.
“You can go bafo,” Nzalo says.
My eyes widen when Msindisi gets up. No, he can’t
leave me with this monster.
“I also want to go,” I say.
He looks at his brother. Nzalo just ignores the exchange
and sits opposite me. Msindisi walks out. I guess he
does what his big brother says.
“This is not right. I feel kidnapped,” I say.
“Being kidnapped is not a feeling. MaMkhwanazi wants
to see you. What’s your story?” He’s less aggressive
now.
“I have no story,” I say.
“You dated him, okay. You were not the only one. Why
did you come to the funeral to cause a scene? You
wanted our attention, right?”
“The only attention I would give my life for, is Sbusiso’s,
but unfortunately he’s dead. I don’t want to be here, I
haven’t done anything wrong to your family, let me go.”
“You haven’t done anything?” His lines shrink deeper
between his eyebrows. “Do you know what we had to do
to cover the scandal you brought into his funeral? Do
you know what our mother is going through?”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Right now I just want to go. R3k is not that much of
money for me to be going through this.
“She wants you to come home and get cleansed. She
shouldn’t be doing that but she’s a good woman, you're
young and have your whole future ahead of you. I hope
you know that you’re not on his will, you need to get
over him and stop crying over another woman’s
husband so shamelessly.”
“Okay then,” I agree because I want him to let me go.
I’m wondering what kind of a good heart would make a
woman welcome a side-chick for cleansing after she
messed around with her husband. MaMkhwanazi must
be one of a kind, that’s why they’re fighting for her like
this.
“I’m hungry. Can we go?” I ask.
He just exhales heavily and stands up.
Finally. I don’t even know why he had to bring me here,
they could’ve interrogated me in my place. Creepy ass,
disrespectful brats.
-
-
-
Zola is calling me. I just got back in the house, I’m trying
to fix a quick meal, my stomach is growling at me.
“Hey, are you good?” she asks.
“Yeah, he just brought me back.”
“What did he want?” She sounds concerned.
“They just wanted to interrogate me, thinking I’m lying
about being with their father.”
“But you are lying Nale,” she says.
“That’s not the point though. How is work?”
“Nale, stop dragging this. Tell them the truth and we will
find a way to refund Mr X.”
“I can’t, MaMkhwanazi wants to meet me and get me
cleansed,” i say.
“The wife? This is crazy Nale, don’t tell me you’re going
to let the poor woman slaughter a goat to cleanse you
knowing very well that you were not dating her husband.
Don’t play with someone’s kindness like that, she
probably feels sorry because you’re a young girl.”
“I wasn’t going to continue with this but Nzalo’s behavior
irks me. Talking about his father couldn’t have been with
someone like me, I’m not his type. He’s a child, what his
father did and who he linked up with is none of his
business.”
“First of all, he’s probably 10 years older than you. He’s
a child to his parents, you’re not his real stepmother.
And it’s his mother he’s trying to protect. You’re burying
your head in a hole just to prove him wrong.” Zola is too
rational, I appreciate it at times because I’m a short-
sighted person, I do things for what they’re going to give
me today. But not today.
“I am his stepmother and he’s going to respect me. I’m
going to meet with my sisterwife, MaMkhwanazi.”
I hear her heavy sigh. “I think you are having your issues
again.”
I hate her so much for bringing that into this.
“That’s so low,” I tell her.
“But this is how you behave Nale, you just do crazy
things knowing how concerned everyone is about you. If
baba gets a wind of this he’s going to blame the
ancestors and do more crazy rituals.”
“Okay, you’re done talking.” I drop the call.
This has nothing to do with my inner personal issues.
I’m not thinking about having a dad, I’m not doing this
because I want attention, I’m simply trying to teach
Nzalo a lesson. He's a child, he needs to know his
place.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 5
ZOLA

I may only be a few years older than Nale but I’ve

always seen myself as a big sister. I think that’s what the
family expects from me as well, I have to play a certain
role in her life. I don’t think I’m a bad example to her,
nobody is for that matter. Nale lives her life as an
adventure. It’s always one thing after another. Last week
she was crazy about Tom, crying over their break-up.
Not because she was too hurt by it, she just had nothing
else to do. As soon as the Hadebes came into the
picture she forgot about her broken heart. They’re her
next hobby, I’m just afraid she might end up in a deep
mess that won’t be easy to come out of.
From the little knowledge that I’ve gathered, the
Hadebes are good people despite the family conflicts
they’ve had for a couple of years. I’m not going to fold
my arms and watch Nale getting in the middle of all that.
We will refund Mr X if he wants his money back. Had he
stayed in contact I’m sure there would’ve been a
different turn of events. Right now Nale is just doing
what Nale always does.
I contacted the Hadebe office and gave the lady who
picked up my cellphone number to give to Nzalo. It’s
been hours, he hasn’t called. Even though he
trespassed yesterday, I didn’t see him as a monster that
Nale paints him to be. He’s just concerned about his
mother. I’m sure he’s going to understand and back off,
before Nale digs a deeper hole of dishonesty.

She’s at work, she said she will come back and get
ready to meet MaMkhwanazi. If this thing escalates from
here families may end up getting involved. My father
gets physically sick when Nale do things like this. I’m
going to tell Nzalo the truth.
My phone rings. I take it out thinking it’s Nzalo, but it’s
her.
“Hey mzala,” I answer.
“Hey, can I ask for a favor?”
“Sure.” I expect some crazy shit, she’s not up to any
good these days.
“Please iron my black formal skirt and floral shirt. I have
decided that I’m a born-again Christian, I don’t slaughter
or involve myself in such things. I’m not going to
participate in the cleansing ritual but I will go and meet
the wife,” she says.
“Okay.” I just want to cut the phone call short. It sounds
like a great plan but it’s only going to work today.
I’m not going to let her go there and play with the wife’s
feelings. But I will iron her clothes, I don’t want her to be
suspicious of anything.

I’m about to call the Hadebe office again, a phone call

comes through.
“Hello,” I answer hoping that it’s the man I’ve been
looking for.
“You left a message for me.” It’s him.
“Yes, yes. This is Zola, Nale’s cousin. Can we talk?” I'm
relieved.
“Yes,” he says.
“No, in person. Can you come over before 4pm?”
“What is this about?” he asks.
“It’s about Nale and your father.”
“I will get back to you in a minute.”
Finally, I will put this to bed and have the normal Nale
back. Nzalo calls me again and tells me he will be here
in an hour. I don’t want Nale to find him here, that’s why
I’m asking him to come earlier.
-
-
-
I’m cleaning and wondering how he initially got our
address because yesterday he just knocked on the door
while I was sleeping. I definitely want this to be over, I
don’t want him to keep trespassing in search of his so-
called stepmother.
I’m done cleaning, he’s at the door again. Today he’s in
a formal shirt and black pants. He looks less intimidating
than he was yesterday.
“Please come inside and have a seat,” I say.
He walks in. He could’ve made a good basketball player
overseas. We have one couch, which he's too tall for,
our lounge is the size of the toilet. I stand, he takes a
seat.
“I’m sorry to disturb your day, I really need to talk to
you,” I say.
“You said it’s about Nale and my father.” He looks a bit
anxious.
“Yeah, it is. They never dated, she was asked by a close
family member to do what she did.” Nale will kill me for
this but she has to be stopped. This lie has to end.
“I thought so!” He bursts open the top button of his shirt
and exhales enormously, evidently frustrated.
“Was it my uncle?” he asks.
“Yeah, he met her in a bar and paid her R3k to do it. It
was a confidential deal, that’s why I’m going to ask you
not to tell your uncle that you know. I just want you to
leave Nale alone. Don’t take her to any cleansing
ceremony, she wasn’t dating your father.”
“Why did she agree to meet my mother and get
cleansed then?” He’s confused, anyone would be, Nale
can be too much.
“Because you’ve given her a new hobby. Nale has a
dysfunctional character, it has a lot to do with the
situation at home. There’s a parent involved, your
mother, I don’t want to see people getting hurt. If you
don’t back down, Nale won’t stop.” I know my cousin
very well, unless there’s a new event in her life that
grabs her attention, she will feed off this drama until all
those involved in it are emotionally drained.
“I’m not sure how I feel but thanks for bringing this to my
attention.” He opens the second button and rolls up his
sleeves. I can see that he’s managing his temper right
now.
“That’s all I wanted to ask, thanks for coming. I don’t
want her to find you here,” I say.
“Thanks.” He takes a heavy sigh and stands up.
I hope this is the last time I see him. I walk him to the
door and we exchange polite goodbyes.
-
-
-
NALENHLE

I’m looking forward to meet MaMkhwanazi. Mr X blocked

me without explaining what him and the wife are fighting
for. So I’m going to find out from the wife herself. I go
straight home from work. I don’t know how I’m going to
get to the Hadebe residence but I think Nzalo will send
Msindisi to come and pick me up. Zola is still here but
she’s getting ready for her shift.
“Did you iron my clothes?” I ask.
“Yeah, they are on your bed,” she says.
“You’re a lifesaver.” I blow her a kiss and rush to my
room.
I need to take a bath quickly and dress up, then take
care of my hair. I’m a born-again Christian, I have to
make sure my hair complements it. I do have a physical
Bible that was given to us by a pastor who was going
door to door spreading the word.
Zola comes to say goodbye, I’m about to get dressed.
“I will keep you updated,” I say.
“I can’t wait.” She rolls her eyes and walks away.
She doesn’t agree with what I’m doing, which I
understand because the Hadebes are now coming to
disturb her peace as well. But this will be over soon, I
just need to prove those boys wrong first then we will
move on to more exciting things.
-
-
-
It’s almost 6pm and I’m still waiting for someone to come
and pick me up. I’m a little bit bored now to be honest. I
feel like I wasted my time, they might not come. These
kids are stressing me out. I call my aunt while waiting
and we chat for over ten minutes. She’s giving me all the
latest village updates. It’s clear now that I’ve been stood
up. Maybe MaMkwanazi changed her mind about
meeting me. I should be glad there’s a possibility that
this is over, but I’m not. I have to find something else to
keep my mind busy with.
I’m not going to let this incredible look go to waste, so
I’m going to Uber to town and have a few drinks then
come back to sleep.

It’s Thursday, people don’t hang out in bars simply

because tomorrow is a working day. I also don’t plan to
stay longer than two hours. Most of the times I drink
alone, Zola doesn’t touch alcohol and I don’t really have
friends that much. But men always hunt for single ladies
who are minding their own business.
I’m enjoying my drink and misery, then I see a tattooed
man sitting on my table.
“Why is such a beautiful lady sitting alone?” He smiles,
displaying a perfect set of teeth. Teeth are the first thing
I look at in a man and his just tick the box.
“Maybe she’s just enjoying her own company,” I say.
“I’m sorry to disturb. I’m Melusi, I’m here waiting for a
client-friend of mine. I hope you don’t mind me sharing
your table, I just want to bless my eyes with your
beauty.”
I wasn’t here trying to meet someone, but my life is
boring again, I must open up to new people.
“What kind of a client?” I ask.
“I’m a property developer, it’s someone I usually work
with,” he says.
“Mmm, that’s nice,” I say.
“I know you’re bored, your generation only considers the
entertainment industry as exciting.” He’s not bad at all, I
love that he’s on his chair, not trying any silly advances.
“Not really. My uncle owns a plot of land back in the
village. I’m sure one day I’d be rich and in need of your
services,” I say.
“Oh, you’re from the village? No wonder your energy is
so calm,” he says.
“Yeah, I’m from Mthonjaneni,” I say.
“I’m sorry, your name is?”
I laugh, “I’m Nale Thabethe, I forgot to tell you.”
“Oh, MaThebethe.” He brings his hand across the table
for a shake.
We are having a normal conversation, it’s flowing nicely.
He’s not trying to pursue anything with me, I’m actually
enjoying his company. He’s telling me about his tattoos.
I’m not into ink but I love seeing the passion in his eyes
as he talks about them.
I check the time, I have to finish this drink, exchange
contacts and leave.
“Oh, he’s here!” He stands up.
I turn my head. Oh fuck, no. I understand they say it’s a
small world but it can’t be that small.
His face changes the second he sees me.
“I was about to give up,” says Melusi with a smile.
He’s looking at me, not at Melusi. “I was stuck in traffic a
little bit. I’m sure your new friend here has convinced
you that she’s a mermaid.”
Melusi chuckles, but he looks confused a bit. “This is
Nale, uMaThabethe omuhle,” he says.
“I know her, she’s my stepmother.”
What the hell? I’m 26 years old, I’m no grown ass man’s
stepmother.
Now Melusi is staring at me, shocked.
“I’m not his stepmother,” I say.
“She is. Let me walk her out, I will be back.” He links his
arm around mine and lifts me off the table.
I haven’t finished the drink I bought.
First, he stood me up, now he’s interrupting my
conversation with my possibly new boyfriend.
I keep calm until we exit the bar.

He’s on his phone, busy with something.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I’m furious.
“It’s late, you need to go home. Your ride is 5 minutes
away.”
Who the hell does he think he is? My dad?
He slides his phone back in his pocket and doesn’t
mention anything about the cleansing he promised me.
“I’m not your child,” I say.
“Yeah, you’re my stepmother and you should be home,”
he says nonchalantly.
I didn’t even get Melusi’s number because of this
blockhead.
“I can tell the driver to drop me off in another bar,” I
threaten.
Yes, he’s probably saving me because tomorrow I’m
waking up for work. But I just hate it when people try to
control me like they gave birth to me.
“You’re young Nalenhle, you need to get your life
together and stop having fun at other people’s expense,”
he says, gruffly serious.
“You need to leave me alone,” I say.
“I have left you alone.” He’s still standing next to me
though.
Yes, I cried in his father’s funeral, so what? He’s chasing
me around playing daddy instead of mourning his
father’s death. He's a pyscho.
“This is your ride,” he points at the car pulling up across
the road.
I didn’t ask him to request a cab for me. I was going to
do it on my own time.
“You better go home and not try anything funny. I will call
Zola to check if she finds you home in the morning,” he
says.
“You have Zola’s number?”
“Don’t keep him waiting,” he says.
Zola needs to explain what is going on; when did she
and Nzalo become my mom and dad.
"Goodnight," he says as I walk away.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 6
NALENHLE

I was released from work before 12pm, I’m not feeling

okay. I made it look like I’m catching a flu, when in reality
I’m just experiencing the effects of last night’s
intoxication. I’ve had a nap, I’m feeling better as I wake
up. I fix something to eat and turn the TV on, trying to
find something interesting to distract my mind with.
My Whatsapp is flooded. I have a ton of messages but
one that catches my attention the most is the one from
Mr X. He unblocked me, he must be back in town. I don’t
know how I feel about him. I open his message and get
a bit confused and shocked at the same time. He’s
saying I betrayed him, there’s an attached screenshot of
the messages he received from Nzalo. I was drunk
yesterday but I remember everything that happened. I
didn’t say a word to Nzalo about Mr X, we didn’t even
talk about his father. Mr X is clearly furious about this.
I try calling his number but he doesn’t pick up. Shortly he
sends me another message, this one plainly says we will
meet and talk. I don’t feel safe because I don’t know
how much damage this has done. Nzalo’s
screengrabbed messages to him don’t look pleasant
either. I feel like Zola has something to do with this
because it doesn’t make sense that all of a sudden
Nzalo has her cellphone number.

I call her right away. I’m fuming because she’s put my

life in danger.
“Hey mzala,” she answers.
“Zola did you tell Nzalo about my deal with Mr X?”
“I can explain,” she says.
My stomach is in knots.
“How can you do this to me? Now I have Mr X texting
me angrily and vowing that he’s going to see me. I don’t
even know where he is.”
“What?” She sounds extremely surprised. “I asked Nzalo
not to confront him. I only wanted you and him to stop
playing games,” she says.
“It wasn’t your place, you’ve put my life in danger. What
do you think a man who can disrupt his brother’s funeral
can do to a stranger?” I’m dead, that man doesn’t care
for anyone, not even his own family.
“I’m so sorry mzala, I thought I was helping. Are you
scared?” she asks.
“Of course I’m scared but what can I do except waiting
for him to do whatever he wants to do?” I have to face
the music, there’s nothing I can do now.
“Let’s send him his money back, I will transfer R1.5k to
you,” she says.
“He didn’t ask for it back but I will prepare myself in case
he does.” I know she had good intentions but I would’ve
appreciated if she stayed out of it like I asked her to. I’m
not sure I will be able to sleep not knowing what Mr X
thinks.
-
-
-
ZOLA
I have taken another trip to the bathroom. I’m not at
ease, I keep thinking about Nale’s safety. I didn’t know
that Nzalo is a real blockhead, Nale has been right all
this time. I’m calling him, I don’t care if he’s in bed with
his girlfriend. This is not what we agreed on.
“Hello,” he answers.
“This is Zola, Nale’s…”
“Cousin, I know,” he says.
“Your uncle is threatening Nale. I thought you agreed
and understood when I asked you not to confront him
about it because it will put Nale in danger.” I’m fuming
but concealing my anger because I don’t want emotions
to get over and overshadow my points.
“I’m sorry about that. I was angry, I couldn’t control it,”
he says.
“Is that all Nzalo? You got angry and decided to throw
my cousin under the bus. What if something happens to
her? I’m at work, that man is sending her messages,
anything can happen.”
“Okay, calm down. I will take care of it,” he says.
“You better!” I’ve lost all the respect I had for him.
I thought he uses his head but clearly not, that’s why his
uncle wants to take over his father’s businesses and
wife. I’m going to keep my phone in the pocket, not in a
locker, there’s a situation in the house that needs me to
keep open communication with Nale. I just pray for her
safety in all of this.
-
-
NALENHLE

I ignore a knock that’s persistent on the door. My chest

is pounding, I’m one click away from calling 10111.
Could Mr X be here? He knows my address. This
situation just escalated and got out of hand within the
blink of an eye. I can’t imagine dying so young, I’d be a
clueless ancestor.
My phone’s screen brightens, it’s on silent. Zola is
calling me.
I take a few deep breaths and answer under the duvet.
“Why are you whispering?” she asks.
“Someone is at the door trying to break in and kidnap
me,” I say.
“It’s Nzalo, open,” she says.
“What is he doing here?” I’m so annoyed. I almost wet
my pyjamas for nothing.
“I asked him to make sure you’re okay.” Sometimes Zola
thinks from her ass.
Nzalo is the reason why I’m in this mess and she’s
called him to rescue me?

I go to the door and open. He’s wearing a long, brown

coat and a beanie.
“What do you want?” I ask.
His brows slightly furrow. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I keep my stare icily.
He looks around and rubs his hands together.
“Zola called me. Can I see the texts my uncle sent you?”
“No!” One thing he can’t be, is being a perpetrator and
rescuer at the same time.
“I’m in this mess because of you. I don’t need you here
close to midnight playing my superhero,” I say.
“No, you’re in this mess because of you. Do you even
know what Xolani is capable of? R3k is a beer change
and you risked your life for it,” he says.
I’m yet to buy a beer and get R3k change.
“Because you made a fuckin’ big deal out of a small
funeral cry.” I swear to God, I’m never crying in any
funeral again, this is too much, I didn’t even drop too
much tears.
“Okay, you’re innocent, I did this to you. Zola is worried
about your safety, do you mind packing some of your
things and coming with me?”
I knew he was coming here to be my superhero.
“Oh, you’re saving me now?” I ask.
“I didn’t want to come here and I wouldn’t have come if
your cousin wasn’t such a good person. If I had a choice
I wouldn’t be in your space, anywhere in the world.”
Then he should move to another planet. I’m going to
pack my cosmetic bag and changing clothes. I feel
unsafe, I haven’t slept a wink, that’s the only reason I’m
taking his offer. Even if there was no age difference, I
just don’t think there would have been a chance for us to
ever get along. Whether I cried in his father’s funeral or
not, I don’t like him.

He fills the car with Madala Kunene’s music, I heard that

his father was a die-hard fan. I told Msindisi that I hate
this music, he’s probably blasting it to annoy me. We
enter the suburbs, I’m not sure where he’s going to hide
me. I hope it’s not his father’s house where
MaMkhwanazi is, I’m over the drama. I just want my
normal life back.
I can’t even ask where we are because of the loud
music. He drives through the gate and parks in front of
the house. It’s not a big mansion, just a normal ranch
house surrounded by a few trees. It’s a quiet
neighborhood, I hope nobody sees me until I leave
because I don’t want anyone to think I was really a
sidechick who’s now sneaking around with the son.

I carry my bag and follow him inside. It’s furnished in a

relaxed, modern style. There’s breathing space,
minimum esthetics and eye-catching art pieces on the
wall. I love it inside that I’ve even forgotten that this is
my refuge, I’m not here to tour.
“I’d like to show you your bed,” he says.
I move away from the glass book cabinet.
Hospitality skills, zero. I follow him to the bedroom.
Oh my, oh my! I have a king size bed.
This room looks nice. I just need that hideous calendar
off the wall.
“I don’t want that calendar,” I say.
His grabellar lines shrink. I kinda hate him when he does
that, like I’m just stupid and saying nonsense. This is not
1986, everyone has an access to digital calendars.
He reaches to the wall and takes it down.
“Thank you.” I sit on the bed, just to feel it.
It’s so comfortable, I’m going to sleep like a baby here.
“I’m going to sleep in the main bedroom,” he says.
He can sleep wherever he wants, I’m so happy that I’ve
forgotten that I’m in hiding, not a holiday.
-
-
-

It’s a good morning, I woke up and went to take a long

warm shower without Zola screaming for me to hurry. I
have loved my stay here, I only wish Nzalo had more
generosity. I’ve been awake for an hour or so, but he’s
still not up to show me around the kitchen or give me
breakfast. I hate being starved. I don’t know which
bedroom is the main between the two others. I knock on
this first one and push the door open. Nope, this is not it.
I go to the second one and knock.
“Hello!” I yell.
He grunts from the inside. Don’t tell me he was still
sleeping.
He comes and opens the door, looking annoyed.
“Good morning,” I say.
“What do you want? It’s not even 8am.”
“Can I charge my phone? I’m hungry too? I forgot my
comb, can you borrow me one? What time are you
taking me home? I’m sure Zola is back now.” I don’t
mind if Zola is around, she’d call the police if anyone
comes and tries something with me.
“I’m coming,” he says, yawning.
“Okay.” I turn away and return back to the sitting room.
I’m going to find a good comedy to watch, I haven’t
laughed this week. I should’ve asked for the WiFi
password.
He comes out of the bedroom after what feels like three
hours. He’s taken a bath but he still looks the same. He
shouldn’t have guests, he sucks at hosting.
“I have no groceries, we will go to see what we can eat
in a restaurant down the road,” he says.
“Let’s go then.” I’m not even worried about being seen in
public, I’m too hungry to care.
Zola hasn’t called me, I’m sure she’s in the house now.
What if this man murdered me? I don’t know why she
trusts him so much.
-
-
-
It’s not far from the house. It’s half-empty, I’m relieved
not to see any familiar faces. We get a table and our
menus. We don’t enjoy each other’s company, we don’t
even fake it. He sits on his side and looks at his menu, I
do the same on my side. I’m going to order their ranch
breakfast because it comes with two pork sausages and
steak. I love meat. I hate coffee and any other hot
beverages.
“Do you have any glass of wine?” I ask.
I hate it when I’m ordering something and the waiter
gives me a look.
“Yeah, we do have wine but it’s not on our breakfast
menu,” he says.
“Please give me one glass of red wine. I lost my father
last week.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that sisi.” He looks really
sympathetic.
“Thank you. I’m trying to cope and deal with grief, but it’s
just hard.” I heave a heavy sigh and close his menu and
give it back to him. I’m not going to look at Nzalo, he
should focus on what he’s ordering.
“I will see what I can do,” he says and turns to Nzalo.
I take out my phone and reply to Zola on Whatsapp. Mr
X hasn’t said anything since his last message. I’m
worried because I don’t know what his plan is.
Our food comes, I get my glass of wine, God bless the
manager and our waiter.
My phone rings, it’s my uncle this time. This is what I
needed to start off my day. We talk over the phone while
I’m eating, he’s calling me because he wants me to
speak to my mother. She can’t respond to anything, so I
just talk and hope that there’s a smile on her face as she
listens to my voice. Nothing will ever make me feel like I
have a normal life.

I accepted my mother as soon as I was able to

understand life and its unfairness. But nothing will ever
fill the void in my heart. I long to have a parent that I can
communicate my feelings to and have shopping trips
with. I have always kept hoping that my father would
show up. I want justice to be served but I also just want
to know who he is. I want him to see me, I want to hear
his voice, even if nothing positive comes out of it.
“Are you okay?” Nzalo asks a few minutes after I got off
the call.
“Yeah,” I say, finishing the last drop of my drink.
“Are we going to split the bill?” he asks.
Such a boring question.
“No, the bank froze my account,” I say.
“Of course, they froze it.” He’s smiling.
Very strange to see him smiling at me.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 7
XOLANI HADEBE

Anyone would look at him and think, life is good. Maybe

it is, if you’re looking at it from the materialistic point of
view. He has it all. Nice cars, a mansion so expansive
guests can use golf carts to get from one side to the
other, a few entertainment establishments to his name,
and designer suits that he wear often. Most people wish
to have that, he’s achieved more than he dreamed of.
One would say, but he’s 43. Well, he didn’t have
anything until he was at least 34, so all that he’s
achieved, he achieved it in less than 10 years. His life
promises to be perfect until his last name is brought up.
Yes, being a Hadebe. It has its highs and lows, just that
for him his lows has been lowest.

As it stands, his nephew has requested a meeting with

him. He knows how his brother’s children are, they’re
just like their father. But he cares less about them, it was
never about them. MaMkhwanazi was his target, but it
doesn’t look like his plan worked at all. Nzalo, as
expected, hunted down Nalenhle and squeezed the
truth out of her. He will forever despise MaMkhwanazi
and as long as he lives, she will never have peace in her
life. Their history goes way back, before Nzalo’s
biological mother was brutally killed. They were together
for solid three years, making plans together. He wasn’t a
part of the family, he was hustling on the streets to make
ends-meet. They were going to fight their way up, he
trusted her with his family secrets and everything. But
what did she do? She used all the information she’d
gathered from him about Sbusiso and found her way to
his bed. She was the first side-chick at the Hadebes, his
plan was to give her the taste of his own medicine and
embarrass her in front of the whole world. But it didn’t
work because she’s managed to get Sbusiso’s children
on her side, lied to them about only coming to the
picture after their mother’s death whereas she’d been
there while she was still alive. She can attend prayer
meetings and sing Bible verses from page one to
whatever page is the last, but she can never fool him.
The first person he wants to see is Nale, he did tell her
that he’d inform her when he’s back and they’d meet
and talk. But her phone has been off, so he drove here,
to her house.
-
-
-
The windows are open, someone is definitely home. He
didn’t think it far, he only wanted Nale to play side-chick
to break the devil’s heart. He parks the car and makes
his way in. The door is slightly open, he knocks twice
and wait for the footsteps coming.
A young woman wrapped in a towel opens and stares at
him. She’s tied her own T-shirt around her head to be a
scarf. She’s just staring at him.
“Hi, I’m Xolani. Is Nalenhle around?”
She just…stares at him.
Maybe she has a hearing problem or she can’t speak.
So he waves his hand, maybe she uses sign language.
“What do you want from her?”
Oh, she actually speaks.
“I’d like to talk to her,” he says.
“After blocking her and having your nephews coming
here looking for answers?” She’s quite angry.
Understandable but she didn’t specifically block Nale
because he was running away from the situation. He
blocked all calls, he had a project that needed his full
attention in Pretoria.
“What are you here for now? You threatened her, right?”
This young lady is livid. He can’t even remember when
was the last time a woman talked like this to me. Raised
eyebrows, firm voice and intense stare.
“I didn’t threaten Nale. I said we will meet and talk once
I’m back,” he’s calm. If he raises his voice too this whole
street is going to witness a full blown drama.
“So you’re telling me she’s lying? My cousin woke up
and decided that out of 100 million South Africans she’s
going to lie about you?”
He cannot be sure of the exact number, he’s not census
accurate, but he knows that the population hasn’t
reached 100 million yet.
“I can show you the texts,” he says.
This woman is young, she can’t do anything to him
except shouting but somehow he’s just desperate to
prove his innocence.
“I don’t need to see the texts. At your age you
persuaded a 26 year old to participate in dishonesty.
Other old uncles like you are out there trying to build the
nation and you are…” She can’t finish, she’s too angry.
“Leave my cousin alone,” she says.
This is not what Nale said though.
“Nale and I had an agreement,” he says.
“An agreement with a child you could father?” She tucks
the corner of the towel above her hip and steps closer.
All that’s going through his mind is, is this really
happening? He may have been wrong to some extent
but a girl who hangs out in a pub alone is capable of
making her own decisions. At no point did he force Nale
to take the gig, if she declined he would’ve moved on.
“You should be ashamed of yourself yazi. Please leave
Nale alone, or else! Or else!” She doesn’t continue but
points her finger at him and then turns back inside the
house, slamming the door on his face.
He needs a drink…
-
-
-

NALENHLE

Nzalo left me in the house saying he’s not sure about

my safety yet. I got bored and decided to request a cab
to one of the nearest pubs to have a drink. After this
ordeal ends I need to set new rules for my life. Like less
drinking during working days and not taking stupid job
offers from strangers.
My pockets are tight today, I’m trying not to waste
money and save, just in case Mr X wants to be
refunded. Three girls walk in, one is celebrating her
birthday, she’s wearing a belt for it. I’m sitting alone, they
ask if I don’t mind them sitting next to me.
“Happy birthday,” I say to the one with blonde short hair.
She smiles, “Thanks girl. I’m Slee and these are my two
bitches.”
Bitches? I can never be referred to like that, I’d kick a
bitch to Limpopo. But each to their own.
“Oh, hey Slee, hey two bitches,” I say.
They laugh and ask my name. It’s my first time having
girls crash my alone time. “We” are celebrating our
friend’s birthday, Slee. Now it’s the four of us with a table
filled with drinks. Tomorrow is Monday, I shouldn’t be out
here drinking but I can’t abandon my new friends. I don’t
even know what the plan is going to be, my work
uniform is back in the house, I only came to Nzalo’s
house in my pyjamas with one set of clothes and a bag
of cosmetics.
I keep forgetting the two bitches name but one has
suggested that we take this party to her boyfriend’s
place because there’s something going on there as well.
Her boyfriend rents in town, request a cab and take our
remaining drinks and leave.
-
-
-
I thought we were coming to a party but it’s just
boyfriend and brother hanging out with a case of beer
and blasting music through rusty speakers. She
introduces me and we all hang out in the kitchen. This
boyfriend is a hustler, there’s something shady going on
in this apartment. He’s got a lot of computers like he’s
running an internet café.
“Does he pirate music?” I ask Slee.
She quickly covers my mouth before others hear. It’s
probably something way worse than that. I’m not feeling
comfortable, I ask for a charging plug. My battery has
died, I need to charge and request a cab to Nzalo’s
house.
“So who do you live with?” Slee asks, she’s the nicest.
Or maybe I just like her energy more than the other two
even though they’re all cool.
“I’m currently in my enemy’s house for safety reasons
but I stay with my cousin,” I say.
“Sounds like you’re living in drama,” she says.
“Not really, I’m just in a sticky situation for a moment.
Otherwise my life is depressing, especially my
background.” I talk too much when I’m drunk.
“Girl, we are all coming from the shambles of the past.
I’m living with my mom, she just got out of a 21 year
marriage and she’s going through it. Dad is also having
his own issues after the divorce.”
“At least you have a dad,” I say.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Is your dad not around?”
“I don’t even know his last name, any father could be my
father.”
Wait, any father could be my father?
“What if Tom was my father?” I ask.
“Who is Tom?” she asks with her eyebrows snapped.
“My married ex,” I laugh at myself.
There’s no way Tom could be my father, he’s only 32
years old. It can’t be that he raped my mom at 6 years
old.
“What happened to your dad?” Slee.
“My mother was raped and I was the product of that.
She’s living with disabilities, so it’s complicated,” I say.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Do you need a cigarette?” She
doesn’t know what else to offer me because I have
Savanna in my hand.
I don’t smoke but I’m drunk, I’m not in God’s good books
anyway. I take it and take a skuif. It’s mentally relaxing, I
pull more.
-
-
-

ZOLA

I’ve been trying to call Nale all day but her phone is on
voicemail. Nzalo said he left her in the house and he’d
call as soon as he’s with her. I’m still waiting for him to
call. Nale needs to come back, tomorrow is Monday. I
have taken care of Xolani, I told him where to get off. I’m
just not sure he understood everything I was saying. He
looked lost the whole time. He didn’t look like the man I
pictured in my head. He denied ever threatening Nale,
and knowing how my cousin is, it’s possible that she
exaggerated some of the things. I’d be embarrassed if
that’s the case.
My phone rings. It’s Nzalo, finally!
“Hello,” I answer.
“Umh, Nale is not here,” he says.
I get up on my feet. How can Nale not be there?
“Where is she?” I ask.
“I’m not sure but it looks like she took a bath and used
her lotions in the bedroom. Her bag is on the bed but
she didn’t leave any note,” he says.
Nzalo took Nale here yesterday because we all felt like it
wasn’t safe after she said she received Mr X’s
threatening messages. His house is safe, supposedly.
How is it now possible that Nale is not even there but
somewhere else and he doesn’t even know?
“Your uncle was here, looking for her. He denied pretty
much everything and left peacefully. So if Nale isn’t with
him, then it’s you who knows where she is. You’re her
only two enemies, minus the village ones.”
“I will get back to you, I have to check the cameras
across the driveway,” he says.
“Okay,” I’m stressed again.
I don’t know where she could be. I’ve removed Mr X as
a threat in my head. I wouldn’t even know who to
suspect if anything happens to her.
-
-
-
NALENHLE

It’s late but not that late. I thought I’d come back before
5pm but it’s almost 7:30pm. The cab drops me outside
the gate, I still have the keys in my purse. I unlock the
goat and drag myself inside. I’m exhausted, I wish I can
go straight to bed but there’s still an issue of my work
uniform. I’m not even sure that sleeping here again is a
good idea.
Fuck whoever it is that’s calling me.
Oh, it’s Zola.
“Mzala,” I answer.
“Jeez, we’ve been worried sick about you. Where were
you?”
“Urgh, don’t even ask. I’m tired, I want to sleep,” I say.
“You have to come back, I sorted Mr X out, he won’t
bother you again.”
“How?” I’m confused.
“He came here and I almost broke a broom on his
head,” she says.
“What?” I don’t believe her.
It takes years for Zola to get to a point where she’d put
her hands on a person.
“I doubt he will ever come near you again,” she says.
I’m going to hear this story well once I get to her. We
chat a bit, then I drop the call and proceed, walking
through the door.

Nzalo is back, what I don’t understand is why he’s sitting

in a dark house. It’s only by the help of street lights and
outside light that I’m able to see where I’m going. I
switch the living room light on. He’s sitting with his hand
placed on his cheek.
“Hello,” I greet.
Silence….
“Zola saw Mr X and sorted him out, I can go back now.
Should I get a cab?” I ask.
He takes his hand off his cheek and stands up.
Okay, I’m seeing tense jaws and eyes full of rage.
“You’ve been drinking?” he asks.
“And smoking a bit,” I say.
His stare is cold. I have an ID, I legally qualify to drink.
“What if something happened to you? What was I going
to tell Zola? You’re here under my guard and you
couldn’t even call me to say you’re going out.”
“I don’t have your number. And it doesn’t matter anyway,
I’m here now and your uncle has backed off. Man, I
have to get my bag.” I leave him with his anger issues.
Oh, nope. He’s following me inside the bedroom.
“That’s not how things work, Nalenhle. I will call Zola,
you will sleep here and get sober, then give me a proper
explanation.” He grabs my bag from the bed and walks
out with it.
I did say this man is not well in his head. I throw myself
in bed, lazy to even take my shoes off, and take a little
nap.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 8
NALENHLE

My whole body hurts. I open my eyes, sun rays shine

through the close curtains right onto my face. I sit up, my
head feels so heavy, Lord. Where is my phone? 9:39
am!
No, no, no. I should be at work, not in bed with my jeans
and pumps on. I get up and run out of the bathroom. I’m
almost 20 minutes away from work. Zola would’ve
woken me up. I’m in disbelief thinking I was laughing
with Nzalo in a restaurant the other day not knowing that
he’s a snake. No, not even a snake, that’s an
understatement, he’s a hyena. I feel stabbed in the
back.

He’s here, I can hear him laughing somewhere.

“Nzalo kaHadebe!” I yell.
Two voices that I heard become quiet.
I walk in to him and Msindisi having coffee and
croissants in the living room. Yep, they’re eating like
nothing wrong happened.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I’m asking him, Msindisi
is excused because he wasn’t here.
He puts down his cup and then smiles. Jesu, I’m not
ready for jail!
“It’s almost 10am, I didn’t even notify my line manager
that I’m not going to make it. I need to go and get a
doctor’s note now or else I will receive a warning!” I feel
let down and betrayed.
He’s not even taking accountability, just smiling and
swiping glances at Msindisi like this is a comedy show
he’s paid him to come and watch.
“You didn’t ask me to wake you up,” he says.
“But you know that it’s Monday, I’m supposed to be at
work.” I’m close to tears, Friday I didn’t work my full
hours and today has been written off as well.
“I didn’t know that it’s Monday today, you told me to get
rid of the calendar.” He’s joking around, this whole thing
is funny to him.
“I depend on a salary. I didn’t have a wealthy dad, heck I
don’t even have a dad. Zola paid R5k for me to get this
job.” I shouldn’t be revealing this but he’s laughing,
thinking this is a job I applied for and got easily. No, I
scammed my way through.
“Maybe you should start appreciating it and be more
responsible. I didn’t ask you to drink and sleep until
9am. I held my Zoom meeting at 8am because I care
about the people I work with and I know how much I
need my job. That’s why I’m now enjoying coffee.” He
lifts the cup up, cheering, and then takes a sip.
I let tears flood my face. He’s so cruel. Yes, I shouldn’t
have drank last night, I will own up to it. But he should’ve
woken me up when he woke up, it’s called humanity-
ubuntu.

I text MaKhoza apologizing for not being at work, I lie

and say I’m sick. Now I have to spend the money I don’t
have getting a doctor’s note, all because of Nzalo. I get
in the shower, still crying. I stand under the water for
almost 10 minutes, I cry until my chest turns dry. My
eyelids are so heavy, I look at myself in the mirror and
see they’re a bit swollen.
I call Zola, I need to vent.
“You didn’t go to work,” she says as she answers her
phone.
“Yeah, I overslept,” I say.
“But you were coming back last night, what happened?”
“I’m not sure, I remember Nzalo taking my bag away
though, he didn’t want me to leave. Then this morning
he didn’t wake me up, knowing very well that I have to
go to work.”
“How many times have I talked to you about drinking the
night before you go to work? You know that I want you
to have fun and do things that you like, but be
responsible when doing it.”
“So you’re going to blame it on me going out? I would’ve
been there if he didn’t take my bag away and you
would’ve woken me up.”
“I know, but I’m your cousin, Nzalo is just a random man
who offered to help you. He’s not responsible for you,”
she says.
“Whose side are you on?” I already have a headache
from hangover and unnecessary crying, now her.
“I’m on your side, you need to come back today,” she
says.

There’s a knock, I tell her to drop I will call her back in a

minute. It’s Msindisi, thank God, I don’t want to see his
brother at the moment.
“I thought you’d want some tea,” he walks in with a tray.
“Thanks.” I show him where to put it.
This is my first time having anything made in this house.
Nzalo orders almost everything, he has no grocery and
no brain.
“I’d forgotten how small this house is,” he says looking
around the room.
Maybe my eyes have an infection. This house is small?
“I thought Nzalo was joking when he said he was
sleeping here. How did you convince him?” he asks.
“I didn’t convince him of anything, I needed a place to
hide and he brought me here. Obviously he couldn’t
leave me alone, he used the main bedroom,” I say.
“Well, we only come here to clean and fix broken
windows. Our mother died here, that’s why I’m surprised
you guys chose this house.” He’s still looking around it,
clearly he hasn’t been here in a long time.
Nzalo could’ve taken me to his own house, not his late
mother’s house where she died. I’ve been nothing but a
headache to him, I didn’t know he was out of his comfort
zone too being here.
“What happened to your mom?” I ask.
He sighs and walks to the window. “She was killed.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Was the killer ever found?”
“Yeah but he killed himself before appearing in court, so
we never got to hear why he shot a woman in the head
16 times.”
16 times? That’s crazy, even more crazier that he chose
to die without giving them closure. I’m really not the only
person in the world who has problems, even though I
like to act so.
“Maybe the killer was my dad.” It just slips out of my
mouth.
Maybe I’m still drunk.
“I’m sorry, don’t mind me. So MaMkhwanazj raised you
guys?” I ask.
“She played a huge role, especially to Lwethu because
she was only 8years old when our mother died. She's
part of the reason why dad married as soon as his
mourning period was over.”
“Six months?” I’m shocked.
I don’t care if I left a newborn behind, you don’t move on
within 6 months, I’m coming back with my whole dead
squad to strangle you at night.
“I know, she gets misjudged a lot, but she was a good
wife to him and she loves us like we are her own,” he
says. Clearly they’re very protective of her; she’s
probably using pink bathsalt.
“Why does your uncle hate her?” I’m just curious. She
sounds like a good woman, overlooking how quick she
married a dead woman’s husband.
“Some people just don’t like peace,” he says with a
shrug and moves away from the window.
My tea…I have to drink before it gets cold. Msindisi is
the total opposite of his brother. He’s charming, easy to
talk to and he’s a good host.
“Where do you guys live?” I ask.
“I’m at home, Lwethu is in university, Nzalo has his own
place that’s why I was surprised when he said he’s
here,” he says.
He obviously didn’t want me in his house, instead he
brought me to a crime scene. Nzalo dislikes me, that’s
why I’m not at work, he did this on purpose.
“This is your home, you should come here to remember
your mother,” I say.
“I’d love to but I’m not emotionally ready. It’s fine if I just
pop in like this and leave.” He’s walking out of the door.
“Come and have breakfast when you’re ready.”
“I will come,” I smile.
What a gentleman!
I’m repeating the same clothes because I have nothing
else to wear. I’m having breakfast and leaving, going
back to my caring cousin.
-
-
-
I’m not speaking to him, for obvious reasons. He doesn’t
care, he’s driving and listening to music. I’m going
home, I canceled the doctor’s note idea, tomorrow I will
just show up with a scarf around my neck and pretend to
cough every now and then.
My work uniform is hanging on the line. Zola is such a
lifesaver. He parks on the side of the road, hopefully this
is the last time him and I ever breathe in each other’s
spaces.
“Thanks for the ride and accommodation,” I say.
“Alright,” he says.
I get out of the car and he drives away. I’m sure he’s
relieved as I am.

I walk in to Zola cooking. Jesus is around the corner!

“Hello,” I say.
“Hello, welcome back.”
I look around and spot a bouquet of flowers. Zola is
single, she hardly gives men a chance.
“Are those my flowers?” I ask. Maybe an ex of mine
realized that they lost a diamond and now they want me
back.
“Is your name Nokuzola?”
Ayy, this is unbelievable. I take the note next to it and
read. It’s really her flowers, this is an apology.
“Who is anonymous?” I ask.
“But it’s anonymous, how would I know?”
“So who did you wrong? What is he apologizing for?”
“Honestly I can’t think of a single person, I will just wait
until this person shows up in person.” She’s smiling,
both of us have never received flowers before. I’m
jealous, people have been doing me wrong ever since I
was born but nobody has ever sent me flowers to
apologize.

She leaves the pot cooking and comes with me to my

room to catch up.
“So how big is Nzalo Hadebe’s house?” she asks.
I roll my eyes, “He took me to his mother’s house, not
his.”
“So MaMkhwanazi was there?” she asks.
“No, his biological mother. She was killed in that house
and they hardly even go there. But it’s a nice house, well
looked after. Tell me about your encounter with Mr X and
forget about Nzalo.” I don’t want to keep talking about
him.
“You should’ve seen his face. I put him in his place, he
couldn’t believe it. I hate criminals that wear expensive
suits,” she says.
I laugh, “Gosh, I missed out.”
“He looks good though. Oh, and his voice!”
I give her a judging look. Mr X is an enemy now, we
don’t care how he looks.
“He denied threatening you,” she says.
“He did say I have betrayed him and we should meet up
and talk,” I say.
She dramatically throws back her head. “Nale! That’s
not a threat, you made it sound way worse, no wonder
he was shocked by my outburst.”
“I felt threatened. What was he here for?” I ask.
“I didn’t give him a chance to say. But it didn’t look like
he was here to fight,” she says.
“He’s dangerous, don’t buy his act. Even Msindisi said
he doesn’t like peace. He’s against their mother, for
whatever reasons, that’s why they don’t get along with
him. They love MaMkhwanazi, they’re protective of her,”
I say.
“I’m just glad you’re out of that mess. We don’t need to
be in the middle of rich people’s feuds,” she says.
That’s what makes me happy too. Now that we’ve finally
closed this chapter I need to call Slee and find out how
she got home and how does the new age feel.
-
-
-

I had a good sleep, I’m still in bed giving myself a few

extra minutes of my bed’s warmth. I hear the door
opening, Zola has woken up. Maybe Mr Anonymous has
come to drop more flowers. I’m replying to my DMs
again. Who knows, my soul mate could be one message
away.
Zola knocking on my door so early in the morning is
annoying. I pull the blanket over my head and ignore.
She pushes the door and lets herself inside. I still have a
whole fuckin’ hour.
She grabs the blanket off me. Yazi I’m going to kill
this…what the hell?
“Wake up,” he says.
What is Nzalo doing in my bedroom?
“Why are you here?” I’m shocked and annoyed that he
grabbed the blanket off me. It’s freakin’ cold and I’m just
wearing short pyjamas with no socks.
“I’m here to do my job; waking you up so that you can go
to work,” he says.
“This is not a joke!” I try grabbing my blanket back but
he steps away.
Take a deep breath, Nale. This is just a test, God is
testing your faith.
“I’m not joking. I’m an asshole for making you miss a
day at work, right? Now I’m committing myself to my
responsibilities. Do you want me to drag you to the
bathroom?”
“No, back off, I will get up on my own.” Fuck this man. I
get out of the bed, my legs and nipples are freezing.
“Good girl!” he says, following me as I drag myself out. I
don’t think I will ever forgive him for this.
Zola let him in and then went back to bed. She's a
snake, we both agreed that we hate the Hadebes. Why
is she still his friend?
“I was already awake, I can do things on my own,” I tell
him.
“I wouldn’t let you wake up on your own, that’s a
violation of your self-made codified rights.” He stops
outside the bathroom door and flashes a mocking grin.
I don’t see what’s amusing him. I close the door and
hear him walking away, whistling happily. This is Tom's
fault. If I didn't break up with him I wouldn't have been in
a bar that Thursday evening. I wouldn't have met Mr X
and cried in that funeral. Nzalo wouldn't be forcing me to
get out of bed.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 9
ZOLA

Nale is angry that I keep letting Nzalo come to the house

every morning to wake her up. But look at the bright side
of this, I have the house keys, Nzalo fetches me from
work every morning when I knock off at 5:30 and brings
me home so that I can open and he wakes Nale up. Is it
childish? Yes. But not everyone can tolerate Nale, I think
he just wants to get his apology for whatever Nale said
to him. I also think he likes her, he could’ve easily parted
ways with her and forgotten about her. Unless he’s been
waiting to activate the drama button in his life because
that’s the only thing bothering Nale is going to give him.
Anyway, I just woke up, I’m preparing for work. Nale will
be home in an hour, today I didn’t cook, she knows I’m
not friends with the kitchen. I bought bread, that’s what
I’m going to eat and pack to work. Someone knocks on
the door. I’ve been expecting Anonymous to show up
and tell me what he was apologizing for but nobody has
come up. I open the door, it’s a young man in casual
clothes.
“Hello, can I help you?” I ask.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks me.
“Ready to go where?” I’m confused.
“I was told to come and take you to work. You’re
Nokuzola, right?”
“Yeah, but who said you must come and pick me up?” I
don’t remember asking anyone for a favor, I always save
money for my transport.
“Mr Xolani Hadebe,” he says.
What? I take a step back.
We are not friends, I didn’t even know him before he
hired Nale for a crying gig and that one time I saw him, I
wasn’t nice to him.
“Are you ready?” the man asks, he’s still standing in
front of my door.
“No, I’m just getting ready. But I don’t need your
services, I didn’t ask Mr Hadebe to send you,” I say.
“Don’t worry, I will wait in the car,” he says.
“No, what if you’ve been sent to kidnap me or kill me?”
I’m not going to jump to Mr X’s favors, he’s possibly
using me to fight against his family. That’s what he does
best.
“Before I’m his friend, I’m a verified Uber driver, I can
send you my profile details to share as a safety
measure,” he says.
But why? That’s what I don’t understand.
Is it possible that the flowers I got with an apology note
were from him as well?
“Please give me 20 minutes. You can do another trip
and then come back to me,” I say and take his details.
He thanks me and walks away.
This is so weird.

I get ready in 25 minutes, he’s back parked outside the

house patiently. Nale arrives and asks about the car. I’m
not going to tell her anything until I find out what Mr X
really wants from me. I wasn’t a nice lady to him, what is
he hoping to gain from all this?
“I sent my driver’s details on your Whatsapp,” I tell Nale.
“There are taxis, why did you choose Uber?” She’s
inquisitive as always.
“I don’t feel like being in a public transport,” I say.
“What if Mr Anonymous is in the public transport?”
I just laugh. “Then he’s not mine.”
“You want a man with a car? You go, cuz.”
“You’re delaying me, bye!” I grab my bag and head to
the door.
“Please don’t bring that person tomorrow morning,” she
yells after me.
Unfortunately I’m not going to say no to Nzalo’s free
rides. And he’s doing her a favor because he always
finds her still in bed.

The driver drops me outside my workplace, I was

holding my breath a bit thinking what if he drives
towards a different direction. It does creep me up a bit
that Mr X knows where I work and around what time I
leave the house. But I have to focus on work and take
him off my mind a bit.
We have two breaks, one at 9pm and the next one at
1am. We do take stolen naps here and there, it can be
physically exhausting to work night shift. But I love it
more, I get to sleep during the day and wake up to do
whatever I want. Unlike Nale, I can shop during the
week and do laundry, I don’t wait for the weekends.
Whenever we get a break, we rush to our lockers and
take our phones. I’m taking a restroom trip so I grab my
phone to check my Whatsapp messages. I have a few
missed calls from a number I don’t have in my phone. It
could be Nale, maybe she’s in trouble again.
I call the number back as I sit on the toilet. It rings a
couple of times before someone picks up. It’s a man’s
voice, so deep and sexy I should be dropping because
I’m trying to be celibate for another year.
“Who is this?” I ask.
“Did you get to work safely, Zola?”
Omg, it’s Xolani! I don’t even know whether to be mad or
grateful.
“I got to work safely, thank you,” I say.
“I’m glad to hear that and to hear you so calmly. How is
Nalenhle? I’ve been wanting to know but I didn’t want to
piss you off and maybe get a hiding.”
I roll my eyes, like really? I’m half the size of his
muscles.
“Nale is good,” I say.
“That’s good to hear.” There’s something about his
voice, it’s very low but full. I’m not even sure I want to be
on this phone call but it’s probably a sin to drop
someone who sounds so good.
“Did you send me flowers as Mr Anonymous?” I ask.
“I will send you flowers,” he says.
“I’m not asking you to. The answer is yes or no.”
“Or,” he says.
So childish but funny.
“I’m at work, I have to go,” I say.
“Thanks for calling me back, I will give you a call
tomorrow morning. I think I owe you an apology, if you
will listen to me,” he says.
“Okay,” I agree but I’m confused.
If he owes anyone an apology it’s his brother’s wife, not
me. I will wait for the morning and hear him out.
-
-
-As promised, he gives me a call right as I knock off
work. Nzalo is outside waiting for me because he needs
access to the house. It feels like I’m betraying him and
Nale by speaking to Xolani. I told Nale that we are
leaving the Hadebes alone, but here I am.
“I’m in the office until 1pm. What time do you wake up?”
he asks.
“Before 1pm, it’s hard having a good sleep during the
day,” I say.
“Would you kill me if I sent someone to pick you up and
take you out for lunch? Just to iron things out, I feel like
you misunderstood me and got the wrong impression of
who I am.”
“Why do you care? What I think of you will not change
your bank balance or give you nightmares,” I say.
“I don’t know but I care,” he says.
“I don’t feel like you owe me an apology, you didn’t do
anything to me.”
“I’m apologizing for asking your sister to participate in
dishonesty,” he says.
“Why don’t you apologize to her?” I ask.
“Because you told me I should leave her alone, I’m not
trying to find out what’s going to happen after
“otherwise”, “ he says.
I laugh. He really took my threats seriously.
“Let’s talk after 1pm, my ride is here,” I say.
“Okay, have a good sleep, “ he says and drops the call.
I open the door and get inside. Nzalo is a weird person,
he’s been doing this for three days without a break. I’m
sure if Nale had a way she would’ve killed him a long
time ago.
“Another day to fulfill your duties?” I ask.
He smiles, “Yes.”
He enjoys doing this to her.
“You’re putting me in trouble, she thinks I’m a traitor.”
“I’m sorry we are stressing you so much, but at least
someone is putting a smile on your face.” He doesn’t
know that I was smiling to his uncle, if he did he wouldn’t
be giving me these free rides.
“I was just talking to a friend. Speaking of talking to
people, have you sorted things out with your uncle?” I’m
doing my little investigation, I want to hear how bad their
feud is.
“We did but Xolani doesn’t care. He didn’t deny trying to
ruin the funeral. It wasn’t his first time doing something
to put our name at risk. So we let him be, we have better
things to do,” he says.
“But how does your mother feel about this hatred
towards her?” I ask.
“She knows her brother-in-law, they don’t get along and
she’s just trying to keep her distance away from him,” he
says.
“Ah, I feel sorry for her.” I’m not sure what Mr X’s
intentions are, it sounds like he’s someone who hate
women. Our lunch might and night not happen, I’m still
going to think about it.
-
-
-
NALENHLE

I woke up at 5am and started preparing myself for work.

By the time Zola arrives with her new, fake friend I’m
already on the kitchen chair eating porridge. I can’t wait
to see the look on his face when he realizes that he
missed today.
I hear their voices and go to the door to open.
“Morning, morning!” I ecstatically greet.
Zola can’t help it, she laughs.
His face is exactly what I’ve been picturing.
Disappointment!
I’m so proud of myself. You can’t play the player, that
can never happen.
“Nice shirt, Hadebe,” I give him the same smirk he
always gives me when he invades my space. “Can I get
a free ride too? I will finish my porridge in a minute.”
“If you’re not out in 5 minutes I will leave,” he says.
It doesn’t look like Nzalo kaHadebe is in a good mood
this morning.
I rush back to my porridge and eat quickly.
“You’re so dramatic. Do you know that you will get to
work probably an hour early?” Zola asks.
“I’d rather go and suffer the cold there than to miss out
on torturing him with my presence,” I say.
“You guys have strange ways of disliking each other.”
She’s laughing.
I grab my bag and rush out. This is going to be a very
good day for me.
-
-
-
I fasten my seatbelt and take out my face powder. I have
a broken piece of a mirror in my bag, I use it as I
enhance my beautiful face.
“Do you think I need eyeshadows?” I ask.
“I think you need a whole pair eyes,” he says.
“I have good eyes.” I’m offended, I won’t lie.
People always compliment my eyes. Who dies he think
he is?
His face lights up with a smile. Oh, so he was pissing
me off on purpose.
“You’re too early, you know that, right?” he asks.
“No, I don’t. I can’t see time with my ugly eyes,” I say.
“Oh well, my beautiful eyes can. It’s not even 6:30 am
and you only start working at 7:30am. We should get
some coffee to pass time,” he says.
“I don’t like coffee and I definitely don’t like having it with
you.”
“That’s fine, as long as you don’t get to work too early
like a fool.”
I roll my eyes, he drives us to a coffee shop two streets
away from my workplace. I hope he still remembers that
I have problems with my bank, whatever I eat I cannot
pay for.
He orders coffee and two bagels. Bagels are just
doughnuts that grew up with parents. I’m having coffee
with a French toast. I don’t usually eat at this time, I’m
only doing it to pass time.
“Can I have two scones to go?” I ask the waiter, the
bigger my lunch box is, the less hungry I will be at work.
Nzalo’s father probably left him millions, he won’t mind
paying.
“Are you back in your house now that I’m gone?” I ask
him.
“Yeah,” he says.
“Why didn’t you take me to your house?”
“Because my mom goes there unannounced and you’re
her husband’s sidechick.”
Oh yeah, that…it makes sense. I thought he wanted his
biological mother’s ghost to haunt me, that’s how much I
think he dislikes me.
“I owe you an apology,” I say. God knows how much I
hate apologizing to people, I just want him to stop
coming to the house and disturbing my daily routine.
“Really?” He stops everything to look at me.
“Yes. I’m sorry I shouted at you and put the blame on
you for not waking up for work on time. I hope now that
you’ve got it you will stop coming to the house,” I say.
“So everything happens on your terms in life?” He’s
gotten his apology but still that’s not enough.
“No, but it’s only fair that you stop bothering me,” I say.
“You apologized on your own time and I’m going to
forgive you on my own time. The world doesn’t revolve
around you, Nalenhle,” he says.
“I never said it does,” I hate that he’s getting on my
nerves again.
“But that’s how you act. I haven’t known you for a long
time but I already know that you’re one of those people,”
he says.
“Then leave me alone. You have a choice not to be in
the world that revolves around me.” He’s here on his
own terms, he wakes up every morning and decides to
come and see my face. I don’t understand what his
problem is.
Now he can’t say shit, can he?
“Leave me alone, Nzalo,” I say, firmly.
“You don’t like me but you’re sitting with me, having
coffee,” he says.
I put down the cup. I don’t even like coffee, this is not a
big deal.
He chuckles, “You’re a nutcase.”
“I don’t think you’re sane either.”
“I am, at least most of the times. Are you ordering
anything more? We should go before we make a scene.”
He’s right, this might escalate.
I pick the menu and run my eyes over it. “No, they don’t
have brain on the menu, I would’ve ordered it for you.”
“And how would you have paid for it?” He laughs.
“I’m not broke,” I say.
“I’m sure you are not.”
I hate it when he tries to be funny. At least I’m rich at
heart.
He pays, I take my scones and we leave without
breaking the tables.
-
-
-
The tension is high as we reach my workplace. Maybe
he’s right a little bit, I do make everyone’s world revolves
around me.
“Have a good day,” I say.
This is the first time I’m wishing him anything good in
life.
“Thanks,” he says.
I open the door and climb out.
“Nalenhle…”
I look at him. We are both unnecessarily mean towards
each other, I don’t know why, something just
disconnects between our spirits.
“Do you mind coming over Saturday?” he asks.
“To your mother’s house?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s her birthday and I want to spend the weekend
there. I’m just not sure I can do it alone,” he says.
“No problem, I will come,” I say.
He smiles, I close the door and walk away. I should’ve
said I will think about it. I think about things before
committing myself to them. We are like Tom and Jerry,
the weekend might end with one of us admitted in a
mental health facility.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 10
ZOLA

I decided to accept Xolani’s lunch invite. This time I’m

fetched by a polite grey-hair man in the same luxury car
that dropped Nale off the other day. I’m a simple girl
from the village, sometimes I wear jean skirts and
takkies. Nale always condemns my style. I would’ve put
more efforts if I knew I would be having a good looking
driver You and pulling up in front of Ski Boat Vlub.
I’m walked inside one of the seafood restaurants by the
driver, my eyes quickly spot the man sitting alone on the
table and my chest beats drums. It’s quiet here, his table
has a champagne bucket and flowers. I don’t know
when the driver leaves, I’m just overwhelmed. He stands
up, pulls the chair for me and gives me the flowers. He’s
looking dapper in a shawl lapel suit.

I don’t like being the center of attention, this is too top-

tier for me and definitely grabbing our surrounding’s
interest. I’m more nervous than I let out.
“Hello Mr Hadebe,” I greet once seated. It feels I’m
sitting across someone of high class either begging for a
job or ordered by him for a hook up.
“Nokuzola, I’m delighted to be joined by you. Did you
sleep well?”
I nod, “Yeah…why is this section empty?”
I’m seeing few other customers on the other side of the
restaurant, there’s no one around us.
“Don’t you like some privacy?” he asks.
No, I eat on fully packed Honchos tables. But I just smile
politely.
He asks for our starters and then looks back at me,
smiling.
“You look beautiful, thanks for honoring my invite.” He’s
thanking me for the second time now.
I nod, still feeling out of place and overwhelmed.
“As I said, I want you to dislike me for who I truly am, not
what the media writes about me,” he says.
“But Mr X, nothing was ever about the media. I dislike
you for what you made my cousin do.” I may have seen
a few distasteful things about his character but it was
none of my business.
“You still haven’t forgiven me?” He smirks.
“You haven’t explained yourself to me. Why ruin your
brother’s funeral?” I ask.
He’s interrupted by the waitress serving our starters;
shrimp dip with cream cheese. This wouldn’t be a
restaurant I pick up, I don’t eat seafood unless it’s for
free.
“Mr X?” I raise my eyebrow, he’s trying to ignore me.
“It’s a long story,” he says.
“I have more than two hours.”
“I would’ve shared if I knew you better. I’ve trusted
women with my life before and it ended with betrayal
and hatred,” he says.
“Okay, share that one, the one where you were betrayed
by a woman,” I say. He can’t bring me here if he’s not
going to try and change my mind about him. Maybe I will
understand where he was coming from.
“It was 9 years ago, it was someone I was with in my
hustling years who ended up with my enemy, if I may put
it that way,” he says.
“9 years ago? You should move on,” I say.
“I believe in revenge, Zola. I don’t like being stabbed in
the back.” His face changes when he says this. I don’t
know if he’s been faking the gentle, soft spoken
character or it’s truly who he is.
“So you haven’t forgiven Nale?” I ask.
He chuckles, “I’m not petty. I never intended to punish
her for telling Nzalo that I wanted her to ruin the funeral.
I just wanted to meet up and see how she had been.”
“I told Nzalo, not her,” I say.
“Oh, you did?” He’s not that much surprised.
“Yeah, Nzalo wasn’t backing off and Nale was just
running with the lie. We have our own issues at home,
Nale wasn’t born under the best conditions and that
affects the way she behaves. I wasn’t going to watch
you and your nephew put her in the middle of your
wars.”
He nods, “I understand and I’m sorry. But I’m not fighting
with my nephew, he also knows that. He’s getting
involved because of MaMkhwanazi,” he says.
I can just feel the bitterness after he mentions her name.
“Was MaMkhwanazi the woman who betrayed you?” I
ask.
“Let’s have our main, shall we?” He stages a smile and
calls the waitress.
I’m now invested, I want to know the root of the Hadebe
feud and he’s not giving me anything. MaMkhwanazi is a
good woman, that’s what she’s portrayed as, why would
she gets so much hate from her brother-in-law?
“Do you want your brother’s estate?” I ask.
“No,” he says.
“His wife?” I ask.
He laughs, “Not even if she was the last woman on
earth. I want someone that I might never get.”
That’s sad, why is he laughing?
“Why can’t you get her? You have nice cars, money and
you’re well-known,” I ask.
“You forgot to mention soon to be turning grey,
unfamiliar with latest social networks, gender role
believer and sometimes emotional unstable,” he says.
He makes it sound like a lot. Ladies would want him
even if he had one eye.
“Don’t give up so easily,” I say.
“Well, I’m looking at her,” he says.
I laugh out loud. Me?
No, he’s mistaken.
“You don’t know me, Mr X,” I say.
“But I know what I want, that’s what important.”
He’s already turned 40 and I’m not even 30 years old. I
said we are leaving the Hadebes alone, I didn’t even tell
Nale about this lunch. I raise my eyes and find his
intensely on me. Maybe I’m a bit dumb, I didn’t think
he’s asking me to join him for lunch because he wants
me to be one of his girls.
“I don’t do well in relationships, especially with someone
like you. But thank you for being interested,” I say,
hoping my response will put an end to this subject.
“I didn’t say I want the best version of you in a
relationship. I’m interested in getting to know you better
and proving myself to you, I’m not what you think I am.
Under this suit I’m just a man who wants a woman to
share life with and a family of my own,” he says.
I need a sip of water because, wow. He’s from “that”
generation, straight to the point and unapologetic about
seeing a woman as a tool to start a woman with. He’s
not talking about what he likes me for, just that he wants
to share his life with a woman and have a family.
“I’m sorry if this overwhelms you, but you really stole my
heart on first sight. You’re all I’ve been thinking about
ever since you almost gave me a hiding publicly,” he
smiles.
I put down the glass and ask, “How do I know this is not
one of your games?”
“By giving me a chance to love you,” he says.
“I don’t know Mr X, I really don’t,” I say.
“While you try to make up your mind, I will love both of
us and I would like to take you out on a first date on any
day that you pick this week,” he says.

I’m nervous again, but for different reasons now. Does

he truly like me?
If he does, how will I betray Nale and Nzalo and go out
on a date with him? He’s good-looking, mature and
humble. There’s nothing not to like about him, except his
family issues.
“So tell me about yourself. What do I have to know
about you, Miss N?”
I raise my eyebrows, “Miss N? Just call me Nokuzola or
Zola.”
“I will, as soon as you start calling me Xolani, not Mr X,”
he says.
I didn’t even know he doesn’t like it, that’s how Nale and
I call him.
“I’m the eldest, I have a brother. I was born out of
wedlock but now my parents are married. I come from a
small village, small family of 6 and I’m 29 years old,” I
say.
“You will be a family of 7 soon, your father will have
another son...in law.”
I can’t help it, I laugh. My father will definitely ask
questions and have a problem with having a 43 year old
son, he’s also in his 40s, late 40s.
-
-
-

I can say it was a good day, I was overwhelmed at first

but I loved the experience. I’m now back in the house,
dressed up for work. I feel good, you know those days
where you keep smiling to yourself but can’t pinpoint
one thing that made you happy….that’s me today.
Nale gets home, I’m about to leave. She looks
exhausted.
“Whose flowers are these?” she asks.
“Mine,” I say.
“From Mr Anonymous again?”
Well, his name is Xolani.
“Yes,” I say.
“Why do I feel like you’re going to get married first? This
man wants to put a ring on it and start making babies,”
she says, joking.
But it just triggers what Xolani said. I do want a mature
man who knows what he wants but I still want to enjoy
my life, alone as a young woman. Xolani said he
believes in gender roles and I assume his expectations
from a woman are traditional.
“I re-activated my Bamboo account,” she says.
“But the last man you got from that website asked you
for money.” I just can’t believe this right now.
“I’m only replying to white men this time,” she says.
“You don’t want someone who will be able to say
“sthandwa senhliziyo yami”?”
“He can say; love of my heart,” she says.
“You’re silly.” I’m laughing.
“Before I forget, I won’t be here on Saturday.”
“Where are you going?” My big sister instincts have
kicked in.
“Nzalo is celebrating his mother birthday in her house so
he wants me to be there because he only feels safer
when I’m around,” she says.
“Why?” I don’t understand.
Nale would run first if someone attacks them or his
mother’s ghost appears.
“I don’t know, I don’t care, I just can’t wait to take
pictures in their backyard.” That’s Nale for you.
But I’m glad they’re getting along. I just don’t know
where it’s leading.
-
-
-

SKHUNDLA THABETHE

He would die for his sister. He’s already killed certain

parts of him for her. His conscience and good heart. Yes,
he once had a good heart. Once upon a time, Skhundla
was a forgiving man who gave people second chances
and sometimes overlooked what people were saying
about his family, just to keep peace. But not now, he
easily cuts people off and calls out bullshit.
His wife has been talking about making peace with the
Thwalas. Mam’ Thwala was one of the first people to
make Nalenhle feel different about herself and her
mother. His sister, Bazamile, has excellent hearing
abilities. His back and forth with his wife about letting the
Thwalas back in their lives have started to affect her.
She hasn’t been sleeping well these days. Sometimes
she walks in her sleep and end up hurting herself.
That’s what has brought him to Khanyile today. He
wants izinyamazane to burn in his sister’s bedroom so
that she can at least sleep peacefully at night. He
suspects bad spirits as well.

Instead of Khanyile just wrapping the medicine that he

needs, he’s praying for a glass of water and summoning
high powers to the room.
“Is there a problem, Khanyile?” he asks as soon as the
prayer ends.
Khanyile has been a big part of his life. He’s helped him
and his family through so much.
“There’s a dark cloud that is about to destroy the
relationship between the kids in the family,” – Khanyile.
“How so?” He’s confused.
“I’m seeing an ugly division between the female kids in
the family. They’re going to hate each other, there’s a big
war coming and it might end their unity forever,” –
Khanyile.
“We have to prevent that.” He’s worked so hard for his
family to be united the way it is.
He raised both his children and niece in unity. They love
and look out for each other, that cannot be destroyed
now.
“We can’t, Thabethe. But there can be a way.”
“Then let’s use that way,” he’s running out of patience.
“Bring your father’s spirit back home,”- Khanyile.
He folds his handkerchief and puts his shoes back on.
Khanyile sighs heavily, “At some point you have to do it,
Thabethe. He was your father, just bring his spirit back
home and cleanse the alter.”
“I don’t call him my father anymore. Do you know the
lies I’ve had to tell my niece whenever she asks about
her identity? Do you know the kind of shame he left me
in?” That’s the last thing he will ever do. He will never
slaughter a chicken for that man. His mother died
knowing that very well. His body was buried in the
sugarcane field 25 years ago, that’s where his bones will
forever be. He’s not coming anywhere close to his kids
and wife, not anywhere close to his sister and definitely
not anywhere close to his niece…also his sister.
"Then a division is coming Thabethe," Khanyile says.
If Nokuzola and Nalenhle still value and appreciate
being the Thabethes, they will not let anyone or anything
get between the two of them.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 11

MaMkhwanazi walks in to Msindisi and Nzalo sitting

together in the lounge, watching a sport channel on TV.
She wasn’t blessed with children of her own but her
husband’s first wife left children for her. She couldn’t
have asked for better stepchildren. They lift their heads
and smile when their eyes meet hers. Behind those
smiles she knows that there’s buried pain. It’s their
mother’s birthday, that’s why Nzalo is here on a
Saturday morning to be with his brother. They’ve
probably video-called their sister as well.
“I was about to come and wake you up,” Msindisi says.
He’s the one that’s left at home, Nzalo moved out a long
time ago, Lwethu is in Mpumalanga studying.
“I drank pills late last night and overslept. Have you
eaten anything?” she asks, looking at both of them
“I only had coffee,” Nzalo says.
“I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday,” – Msindisi.
There’s an empty plate with bread crumbs next to him,
but he claims he hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday.
“I will make something quickly. What do you have
planned for today?” They usually spend time together as
a family, just to forget about the significance of this day.
She would love to cook for them and participate in
whatever they want to do.
“I’m going to Ma’s house, I just want to be there,” Nzalo
says.
She’s surprised. That house haunts them, why would he
want to be there? They haven’t seen it as a home in
almost a decade since their mother was murdered there.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“Yes ncane, don’t worry I will be okay.”
“Wena Msindisi?” She looks at him.
“I’m going to watch TV and eat whatever you bake.”
“I’m not baking today,” she says.
“Hawu ncane!” Msindisi is a foodie, only for her home-
cooked meals and cakes.
He might be able to twist her arm as the day goes up.
Their relationship is a bit different, he’s more close to
her than others. He grew up a middle child, often
ignored. Now Nzalo is living on his own, Lwethu is in
university, he’s taking full advantage of finally being the
only child.
“I talked to Xolani yesterday, he called me saying he’s
checking how we are doing since our mother’s birthday
anniversary is coming up,” Nzalo says.
She was about to leave, she stands with her hands on
her hips. Hasn’t Xolani done enough already. He doesn’t
care about this family, why can’t he just leave her
children alone?
“I thought he was still in Pretoria,” she says.
“No, he came back and we talked about the drama he
tried to cause at the funeral. He still hates you,” Nzalo
says.
She sighs, “He can hate me all he wants, I don’t have
his time.”
“I think you should sit down with him and try resolving
your issues. He said today you’re going to pretend to
care about his brother’s wife and called you names I’m
scared to even repeat.”
“I’m not going to give him the attention he wants. You
need to focus on the business as well, your brother is
here to help you, nobody needs him. I’m going to make
breakfast.” She walks away, like she doesn’t care. But
she’s just concealing her true feelings in front of them.
Xolani is a man from hell. It doesn’t matter what
happened in the past, it’s been almost a decade and
he’s still angry. Now the direction he’s trying to take is
dangerous- talking about their mother and trying to fill
Nzalo’s head with silly ideas.

She’s already held a conversation but she will try to

make this work because she hadn’t brushed. Her
children will never listen to anyone who says something
bad about her. She disappears in her bedroom and
takes her dry toothbrush to rub it on her tongue. Then
she returns back in the kitchen and fills the kettle with
water, she rinses the dirt of her tongue inside and puts
the kettle to boil. She hides the toothbrush and gathers
other ingredients for breakfast.

Msindisi walks in, invited by the smell of eggs.

“Do you need help?” he asks.
“I’m almost done, don’t worry.”
Msibi grabs a fork and stands next to her. She rolls her
eyes and permits her to take one sausage.
“What made your brother decide to go to your mother’s
house to celebrate her birthday this year?” she asks, this
worries her a bit. Xolani is talking about their mother
again, now Nzalo is refreshing memories, next they will
be trying to find closure.
“I think he just wants to do something different,” Msindisi
says.
“I’m just confused as to what you and I must do. Do we
go or stay behind?”
“I’m not going there,” Msindisi quickly shuts down the
possibility. All he remembers about that house is seeing
the police tap, flashing lights of the ambulance and
holes in the windows. He’d rather protect the memories
in his head.
“I just think your uncle is getting in his head,” she says.
Msindisi laughs, “Ncane relax. Nobody is going to
disrespect you just because dad is not around anymore.
As long as Xolani can’t respect you, he’s not related to
us.”
She smiles, this makes her happy. Xolani might use this
time, when they’re still most vulnerable, to turn them
against her. But it looks like she’s still very much safe.
“Before the funeral he was very helpful, especially in the
businesses,” Msindisi shakes his head. He’s never had
a good relationship with his uncle. Anyone who comes
for his mother gets canceled with immediate effect.

He’s carrying the teapot, MaMkhwanazi comes with a

tray of breakfast. They’re all going to eat in front of the
TV. Nzalo is a coffee-addict, MaMkhwanazi watches
through the corner of her eye as he pours boiled water
in a cup. Xolani must keep trying, he’s pushing himself
further away from his nephews, because they will never
choose or listen to him over her.
-
-
-
NALENHLE

I’ve been up since 6am waiting for Nzalo to send me a

cab. I turned down Zola’s warmed leftovers thinking I’m
going to eat out in a fancy restaurant. I’m not his mother
but this is the worse birthday ever. It’s 9am, I’ve almost
given up, thinking maybe he changed his mind. Because
let’s face it, I’m not that good of a company, anything
can happen with me around him.
I drag myself to the kitchen, Zola is washing the pots.
These days she’s always willing to do things around the
house. Mr Anonymous and his flowers really put her in a
good mood.
She looks at me as I take out the plate I turned down
two hours ago, then she laughs.
“He’s such a jerk,” I say.
“Maybe he meant in the afternoon, not you waking up by
dawn and wearing lipstick thinking you will have prawns
for breakfast,” she says.
“That’s not funny.” I’m not taking this lightly. The last time
someone stood me up was when I was inside my
mother’s womb- my dad.
Zola’s phone rings, she looks up her eyes flickering with
mockery.
She answers and talks to the person for a minute, then
she looks at me. “He’s outside, you guys should just
exchange numbers.”
“That was Nzalo?” I’m both relieved and angry. What
time is this?
“Yep,” Zola nods.
I abandon the ugly plate and run back to my room to
grab my bag. I almost filled my stomach with cabbage.
I’m still mad though. I say goodbye to Zola in passing,
she said she will spend her day outdoors with a friend
too.

He gets out and opens the door for me. Strange!

I frown, getting inside and putting my bag on my lap. He
also enters and greets.
“You should’ve told me the time,” I say.
“Oh sorry, I started at home for breakfast,” he says.
He’s eaten breakfast. I didn’t eat because I thought we’d
eat together and he went to eat home.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m good.” I’m not saying the truth, I’m not okay, I feel
betrayed.
He’s driving, there’s a bit of tension coming from my
side. But I need to let it go because today is not about
me or him, it’s his late mother’s birthday. I’m still not sure
what we are going to do in her house.
We arrive, I climb out of the car with my bag and ask for
the house keys. I know my way around now, I’m just
hoping he stocked some groceries so that I can make
something to eat. I didn’t come here to suffer.
I go straight to “my room” and change into my short
empire waist dress. It’s a bit old but it has no holes on it
and perfect for being indoors. I’m not going to just sit in
the house in my smart clothes. I put my sandals back on
and walk out.
He looks at me and frowns.
“You changed?” he asks.
“I did, I will change back to my other outfit if we go
somewhere. I hope there’s grocery here,” I say walking
away, leaving him with his mouth dropped. I’m not sure
what shocks him. My dress or that I changed too quick?
I check his fridge, there’s no grocery but Wimpy
takeouts. Even better, I can just warm up what needs to
be warmed and go catch up on my favorite TV shows
while he figures out what he wants to do for the rest of
the day.
-
-
-

I took a nap and now I’m waking up to loud

conversations coming from the living room. Is this
Nzalo’s party or his late mother’s? I wanted to cook his
mother’s favourite meal out of the goodness of my heart
and he promised to get groceries.
I walk in, he’s having drinks with two guys. It doesn’t
look like he told them that he’s with someone here. He
either went and bought drinks or these friends came with
them.
“Hello,”, I greet them but my eyes on him.
I’m seeing his coffee and his friend’s beers. Where is his
mother’s birthday cake?
“Hadebe didn’t warn us,” one says, smiling and glancing
between the two of us hoping someone will explain.
“I’m his maid,” I say.
Nzalo gives a snort but doesn’t say anything.
I bow my knees a little and ask, “Did you get groceries,
Mr Hadebe?”
“Yes,” he says.
I thank him and walk away. I have to cook and go clean
the balcony while his friends keep him company.
This maid thing can work. What if I’m really his maid?

He said his mother liked spinach and pap, that’s what I

have cooked. But I have added meat, I didn’t move out
of the village to come and eat spinach in the suburbs. I
don’t care if he bought his from Pick’ nPay and I grew up
sharing mine with goats in the garden.
It’s just after midday, his friends are leaving. I offer them
lunch but they’re already tipsy, they say they’re craving
shisanyama.

Nzalo comes back after walking them out.

“It smells so good in here,” he says joining me in the
kitchen..
“That’s because I’m a good cook. I thought you’d make
this day more about your mother than friends. Why
didn’t your stepmother and Msindisi come?”
“They had other plans,” he says.
I don’t believe that, I think this house is haunted and
he’s using me.
“And your uncle. Have you guys spoken?” I ask.
“Yes, but that one just loves complicating things and
upsetting MaMkhwanazi, which I can’t tolerate,” he says.
He doesn’t like his uncle, I should drop the subject.
“I will come with the food. Do you want coffee?” I ask.
“Thank you,” he stands still, staring at me with his
furrowed lines. “You’re my not my maid, you know that
right?
“I am,” I say.
“No. I didn’t hire you,” he says.
“I’m self-employed. Go and sit down, I will serve you.”
“Hopefully you will self-pay yourself for your services.
I’m going to wait with my throat open.” He walks away. I
hope my food taste good as it smells, my catering
service isn’t cheap at all.

I dish for both of us and join him on the couch.

I know that he’s here because he wants to remember his
mother but he hasn’t done that in years. I’ve given him
hours to figure out how he wants to celebrate and he’s
failed to give me an answer. Maybe if he tells me a little
bit about her I will be able to figure something out.
“How was your mother like?” I ask.
“She was just like you,” he says.
“She was broke?” I ask.
He laughs, “No, I mean bold and beautiful. I guess that’s
why you’re the first woman to use her kitchen ever since
she died.”
Oh shit, what if her ghost comes to haunt me at night?

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 12
NALENHLE

His mother was passionate about homeless children, so

upon hearing that I suggested that we visit the homeless
shelter in town and spend time with the children. Big
mistake, those little humans are exhausting. It turns out
I’m not that similar to his mother because I’m not
passionate about children, I’m a child myself that needs
a sponsor. We got there with some gifts that I wrapped
on last minute, I had to assist in the kitchen and later
join them playing in the backyard.
It’s needless to say I’m tired to my bones. We are about
to leave but the little ones don’t want their malume to
leave. They’ve come to stand outside the car, grilling
both of us with questions. He loves them, he’s been
smiling ever since we got here.
“Aunt and I are going to come back with a lot of toys and
goodies and visit you guys the whole day,” he says.
“And balloons?” one asks, she’s dimpled and bubbly.
“Yes! Right, auntie?” He looks at me.
I need balloons of my own.
“Yes,” I smile.
That sends them back inside the building with smiles on
their faces.
We finally get in the car and leave. I need a glass of
wine and one hour body massage. But despite all of that
I’m happy, his heart is full, that’s all I wanted. I
successfully carried my duties as his self-employed PA.
-
-
-

I throw myself on the couch while he goes and makes

his coffee. He comes with two cups and offers me one.
I’d take wine over coffee but different rules apply here. I
take the coffee and sit straight up.
“This is a thank-you coffee,” he says.
“But you know that would’ve liked a glass of…”
“No,” he says before I even finish.
This guy hates me.
“My mother didn’t like alcohol,” he says.
“But your friends were here drinking earlier.”
Clearly he has double standards.
“You’re not my friend,” he says.
I lift my cup up, “Cheers to that!”
“I didn’t mean it like that. You’re a beautiful lady, you
have a lot to achieve and you can’t do that by drinking
everytime you’re happy or sad.”
“I can, but let’s not argue.” I don’t want this to be about
me, it will get nasty.
It’s his mother’s birthday, we can continue with
celebration by ordering pizza.
“Your mother would’ve loved pizza,” I say.
“Just say you want pizza,” he laughs and takes out his
phone to make the order.
Sometimes I like him, especially when he buys me food
without complaining about high prices like some men I
have hung out with in the past.
“I didn’t imagine today going so well, I’m truly blessed to
have you around,” he says.
“Just for today because usually you can’t stand me,” I
say.
“Most of the times yes, I can’t. You talk too much,” he
says.
“I beg to differ, I only talk when necessary.” I know I say
things that may sound dramatic at times but I definitely
don’t talk a lot. I don’t relate to people easily and they
also don’t relate to me.
“I’m going to have a new sbari,” I tell him.
He laughs, “Really? Tell me about it.”
“He’s been sending Zola flowers everyday.”
“Everyday?” His eyes widen.
“Yes, everyday. I think he’s rich and he wants to marry
her,” I'm exaggerating, it's not really everyday, it's been
twice.
“Why is being rich a standard?” he asks.
Very typical of an African man. They’ve had standards
since the beginning of times but now they can’t
understand why women also have certain standards.
“Men want women who have attractive physical
features, limitless domestic skills and wombs that can
carry 10 babies. Women only want men who have
money, is that too much to ask? Your own mother
married a rich man.”
“No, she didn’t. I grew up with a hustling father, Msindisi
and I attended local government schools,” he says.
I didn’t know that, I just assumed they’ve always been
financially stable, but that wasn’t the point anyway.
“I’m talking about your current mother, MaMkhwanazi,” I
say.
“But she didn’t marry him for his money,” he defends.
He’s a little delusional. Who marries a man whose wife
got murdered for no known reasons within six months
and mother his three children? She only did that
because he was rich. I also wouldn’t mind being a
stepmother to the kids that have trust-funds and maids
cleaning after them.
“Did Mr X like your biological mother?” I ask.
“Yeah, he had a good relationship with her,” he says.
“Oh, maybe he’s just fighting her battles. Your father
moved on too soon.”
“It wasn’t too soon, he needed someone to help him with
Lwethu and Msindisi too.”
“I’m sure your father could afford a nanny.” I’m not
buying the excuse of him marrying someone for the
sake of children. There were other alternatives he
could’ve explored.
“It doesn’t matter, he got her instead and she was the
best thing in our life at that time.” He stands up and pulls
down his T-shirt. I don’t know why he’s wearing saggy
pants, I hate them. Our delivery is here, I’m sure he
wanted an escape because he can’t stand a different
take on MaMkhwanazi and his father’s marriage.
-
-
-

I eat and head to “my room” to take a shower. I haven’t

checked on Zola since I left in the morning. I call to find
out how her day went. Surprise, surprise!
“I’m not in the house,” she says.
“Where are you? Who are you with?”
“I’m 29 years old, do I need to report to you?”
“Yes. Are you mad? Where are you?”
She laughs, “I’m older than you. It’s not even dark
outside and you’re worried about me. I’m having dinner
with a friend, that’s all you have to know.”
“Is it Mr Anonymous?” I know something is happening in
her life and I’m happy for her, I’ve been wanting her to
either find a man or hobby. I just don’t want to be left out
of it, whatever relationship she gets in I have to be a part
of it.
“Maybe, maybe not,” she says.
“You’re so boring and you’re wasting my airtime.” I drop
the call while she’s laughing. I don’t know how long she
thinks she’s going to hide a relationship, we live together
sooner or later I’m going to meet Mr Anonymous.

I get in my pyjamas and slide in bed, ready to participate

in fruitless online discussions about things that don’t
matter. Nzalo calls my name outside the door.
“Go away,” I say.
True to his rebellious nature, he comes inside instead of
going away.
Oh no, take that back, he must come inside.
“I didn’t know which one you like,” he’s holding two
packets of chips.
I like both of them, they’re different flavors.
“My guys really think you’re my maid, they would’ve
crossed boundaries if we didn’t have codes against each
other’s employees,” he says.
I’m stunned by this reveal.
“So you are trying to tell me that one of them wanted to
ask me out and didn’t because he thinks I work for you?”
I ask.
“Precisely,” he nods.
“And you didn’t correct him and tell him the truth?” I’m so
disappointed in him. This would’ve been my chance to
get myself a rebound boyfriend.
“No, I figured you wouldn’t have liked him anyway
because he’s like me,” he says.
Unbelievable!
“You’re not my dating agent. I would’ve liked him, as
long as he’s not seeing someone else because I hate
cheaters and lies,” I say.
He frowns and laughs. “You? You hate lies?”
“In a relationship, you idiot.” I hit him with a pillow. Lying
doesn’t mean I want to be lied to, especially in a
relationship.
“So it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t have money and looks
ugly, as long as he doesn’t lie?” he asks.
“Even if he’s ugly but he must take care of himself and
smell good. Money has to be there, even if he’s not rich,
I don’t want a man who asks me to split the bill,” I say.
“Stray bullets everywhere!” he laughs.
I’m glad he still remembers that he once hinted that we
should split the bill.
“Enough about me, what about you? Where is your
girlfriend?” I’m enjoying the snacks, they will go down
well with some juicy relationship news.
“I’m single by choice,” he says.
Every lonely person says that by the way.
“So girls can’t turn you down?” I ask.
“No, come on, it’s me.” He’s so full of himself.
I bet he’s been turned down by girls in the past, he’s not
Chris Brown.
“Why are you rolling your eyes?” he asks.
“Nothing. When is MaMkhwanazi going to get
grandchildren? You’re not getting younger, your chin is
covered with beard?”
“When is your own mother going to have
grandchildren?” He poses the question back to me.
I don’t think the society puts pressure on unmarried girls
to have kids more than they put it on unmarried men.
They’re expected to have sons to carry their father’s
names.
“My mother is blind, she doesn’t care,” I say.
He nods and doesn’t say anything more. A lot of people
react exactly like him. They don’t know whether to ask
more questions or feel sorry for me and shut the topic
down.
“My uncle isn’t looking for grandchildren until I’m
married. And there’s Zola before me, so there’s no
pressure,” I say.
“But you said Zola’s rich man is going to marry her
soon,” he says.
“He will and then he’s going to introduce me to his rich
friends and I will get married too.”
He bursts into laughter. It’s not far-fetched, is it?
“What if the rich man cheats and lies?” he asks.
“We will be married in community on property,
remember? I will file for divorce and get half of his
property. So I will be rich anyway, I will get another
husband and…” WTF!
“Nzalo are you sleeping while I’m talking?” I ask.
He lazily opens his eyes, “No, I’m listening. You will get
another husband after your divorce?”
“Yes, the second husband will be someone in his late
50s. We’ll have children but he’d be close to death.
Once he dies I will inherit everything that he owned and
raise our children alone, maybe get myself a toyboy to
keep me company when they’re in school,” I say.
No response.
I look at him, he’s closed his eyes again.
“Hey!” I shake his shoulder.
He’s already snoring softly. Was my story that boring?
He’s sleeping in “my bed”, taking up all the space with
his long legs. I finish my snacks and leave him sleeping.
I’m kind enough to cover him first.
-
-
-

I’m bored, there’s nothing to do except watching TV

which I don’t want to do. So I make my way to the main
bedroom, it used to be his parents’ room. The walls are
light grey, very calm and relaxing. It’s less intimidating
than I thought it was being inside this room.
I open the drawers and find a photo album. There’s no
picture on the wall, they’re kept here in small sizes. His
parents wedding photos and them as babies. His father
had a beautiful family. I wonder why his wife would just
die inside their home, just like that.
They let her down, big time. I read her name behind one
photo and put it on Google, surely her death made
headlines. 16 bullets in a woman’s body!
Well, there it is. Her killer was caught within a few
weeks, her husband was having sleepless nights
working with the police. One of their neighbor was a
witness, sherelocated to the UK about two years ago
after retiring, it was just an old white woman. Mazwi, the
killer, had a daughter and fiance. He really risked
everything for this job. I’m calling it a job because he
wasn’t an enemy to the Hadebes, Mr Hadebe said he
had never seen him before.
I’m on my FBI mode, tracking down his fiance on
Facebook. She’s beautiful, I don’t know why her
babydaddy chose to leave her to raise their daughter
alone. Oh, their daughter has started college already.
She has her own Facebook account and damn, she’s
living this life thing. How did their life turn around so
fast? They seem to be well-off, even the mother is
driving a Mercedes. Their weaves shine brighter than
my future.

I call Zola after walking out of the bedroom. She must be

already in bed but this can’t wait.
“Mmmmm,” that’s how she answers.
“Mzala, I’m sorry to wake you up. Can we talk?”
“Of course, I’m already awake,” she says, annoyed.
“I think Mr X killed his brother’s wife and now he’s
supporting the killer’s family and taking his daughter to
expensive private colleges,” I say.
“What? Have you been watching true crime
documentaries?”
Sigh!
“Look, I know this sounds crazy. But what if he did,
working together with MaMkhwanazi, and then she
turned around and betrayed him?”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would he kill his
brother’s wife?”
“I don’t know, maybe he wanted to take over his
companies. So they started with the wife, planning to kill
him next, but MaMkhwanazi had second thoughts and
decided it would be more beneficial to marry the man
instead.”
“I don’t think he’d do something like that. Just go to bed,
this case was handled by private investigators and top
police officers. All of them failed. What do you think you,
ordinary Nale, is going to achieve?”
“I can’t help but feel like people let her down on
purpose,” I say.
“Who is her?” she asks.
“Thobile Mpungose, the real Mrs Hadebe,” I say.
“Nalenhle that’s not your fight to fight, you went there for
good food and backyard pictures. Get in bed and sleep.”
She drops the call.
Maybe she’s right, I didn’t know Thobile to be bothered
by what happened to her. I’m just ordinary Nale who
can’t even figure out who her father might have been. I
need to get in bed and sleep.

But which bed? Nzalo has his arms spread to my side of

the bed, snoring. I pull a pillow and get a thin duvet from
the wardrobe. It looks new, at least I know his mother
never used it. I sleep facing a different direction. This is
my first time sharing a bed with a man I don’t like.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 13
NALENHLE

He woke up first, I find him in the kitchen having a cup of

coffee. I still can’t believe we shared a bed. I have
freshened up, I’m hoping we are going out for breakfast.
“You slept in my bed,” I say.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that happened. But I paid for
it, you kicked my face all night,” he laughs.
“You’re lying.” I’m embarrassed.
“You did, and you were bursting your engine all night.
You need to stop eating eggs, you don’t fart to release
your pipes, you fart to pollute the planet.”
I was asleep, so I have no comeback, I’m standing like a
rained chicken embarrassed.
His phone rings, putting an end to his stupid laughter.
“Ncane?” he answers, then his eyes widen.
He puts down the phone. “My mother is here.”
Fuck, no.
MaMkhwanazi can’t find me here.
He stands up, “I have to go and open the gate.”
“What is she going to say finding me here?” I’m nervous.
“I don’t know, just relax.” He takes the keys and walks
out.
I think about running to the bedroom and hiding under
the bed. But how long can I hide? I don’t know if she’s
here to stay or just dropping off something.

They walk in with food containers, she’s here to bring

him food. He didn’t tell her while they were outside that
he has a guest and that guest is me; she’s shocked.
“This is Nalenhle,” he says awkwardly.
She looks younger than I anticipated, maybe she’s in
her mid-40s. She’s evidently a rich widow, her jewelry
alone can renovate my uncle’s house. “Isn’t this the
same girl who tried to ruin your father’s funeral?”
I should’ve hidden somewhere, this won’t be good.
“I can explain ncane,” Nzalo says.
“Explain what? You brought her to Thobile’s house after
she disrespected her husband that way. No Nzalo, if
you’re not going to respect your father then spare your
mother, I’m sure she’s turning in her grave.”
This is very rich coming from a woman who married
Thobile’s husband before her body even rotted in the
grave. She’s mad, she walks out without saying
goodbye.
I’m mad too, okay.
“Are we still going to eat out?” Nzalo asks.
“No, you’re taking me home.” I fetch my bag from his
mother’s guest bedroom.
I don’t want to end up doing or saying something I might
regret later. This MaMkhwanazi was willing to give me
cleansing but now that she’s found me here, Thobile is
turning in her grave. Well, she started turning when she
married her husband. Who still draws one-line eyebrows
in this century? Failed make-up artist.
“What did I do?” he asks.
He saw exactly what just happened but he still wants to
act dumb.
“Take me home,” I say.
“But you’re the girl who tried to ruin the funeral. I don’t
understand why you’re so angry, people who attended
the funeral will know you as that girl,” he says.
I take a deep breath and ask again. “Nzalo please take
me home.”
“What did I do wrong?” He’s not moving.
Maybe I should request a cab instead of begging him.
MaMkhwanazi didn’t even help him celebrate his
biological mother’s birthday, I was here cracking my
head and making suggestions, yet she comes here and
says Thobile is turning in her grave because of me.
Nzalo didn’t even try to stand up for me and tell her that
I’m not what she thinks I am. That’s the least I would’ve
expected.
He finally agrees when he sees that I’m taking another
option and drives me to my house. We are not talking.
He thinks his stepmother was justified to say what she
said to me and I think she was unreasonable.
-
-
-
Zola is home, at least I will have someone to vent to. I
take my bag and open the door. He holds my arm,
pulling me back.
I sigh, “What?”
“You’re being unfair. I didn’t do anything wrong, there
was nothing I could’ve said or done to avoid what
happened. I don’t understand why are you angry at me,”
he says.
“If you don’t see anything wrong then maybe nothing is
wrong. Have a good day.” I don’t want to argue. Him and
I are not friends, maybe it’s time we stop hanging out
together in his mother’s house.
“Can I have your banking details?” he asks.
“No,” I say.
“But you said you’re my maid and personal assistant.”
“I’m nothing to you,” I pull away and climb out of the car.
I don’t want his money, lest his mother starts turning in
her grave again.
He doesn’t drive away until I’m through the door.

“Someone is angry,” Zola says, she’s standing in front of

the mirror tying her braids.
I throw my bag on our two seater and sit. I hate the
Hadebes.
“What did he do?” she asks.
“Him and his whole family can go to hell. Where are you
off to?”
“I’m going to the mall,” she says.
“You look too good to be just going to the mall.” Zola has
no sense of style but this morning she’s put an extra
effort. I don’t believe she’s only going to the mall.
“I’m going to be 30 next year, I must look good.” She
puts on her earrings and disappears to her bedroom.
Mr Anonymous means business, my cousin doesn’t
even have my time anymore. She comes back with a
leather jacket over her shoulders and says goodbye.
-
-
-
ZOLA
I’m more angry than I let on. I had to put a face for Nale.
He offered to send a car but I declined and took a taxi
instead. He’s at work on a Sunday morning, that alone
proves that he has a lot to hide. Xolani and I had dinner
last night. It was fine, romantic and definitely more than
just dinner between two people who are trying to have
something together. I was honest with him, I told him
everything there’s to know about my life, both present
and past. I expected him to do the same. We didn’t kiss
but we almost did, I hugged him before he left. I took in
his scent, listened to his heartbeat and fell in love with
fingers running on my skin. I haven’t felt the way I feel
about him in a very long time.
It would be a pity if my bubble ends in less than 24
hours.

He owns a Casino club, that’s where he’s at today. It

closes on Sundays, at least he knows that gambling is
against God. I head inside after the taxi drops me
outside the gate. I bet Nale has been here before,
there’s a bar at the side. He gets people drunk so that
they can gamble all their money away. I take out my
phone to call him because I’m not sure where his office
is. But he appears before I press the call button. He’s in
dark navy T-shirt and khaki shorts fastened with a belt,
and golf shoes. I’m attracted to him in a way I can’t put
in words. He's the sexiest man I've ever laid my eyes on.
“I didn’t play, no sweat,” he says opening his arms.
I’m mad but I let him hug me. He really didn’t play; he
smells good.
He holds my hand as he leads me to his office. This
place is well-established, he might be more monied than
I thought. His mini office at the back of the casino. It has
gleaming white marble floors and soft grey walls. He
pulls his swivel chair and indicates for me to take a seat.

Now I’m sitting behind his desk, he’s standing at the

front with his hands balanced on it. I’m nervous to
confront him but I can’t boil this inside my chest.
“Xolani, I asked you to be honest with me,” I say.
He nods, “Yes, you did.”
“Do you know anything about Nzalo’s biological mother’s
death?” I ask.
“She was shot in her home, I wasn’t in the province that
week. But I came home because her and I were good, I
only had disagreements with my brother. I helped with
the funeral, I stood by my brother’s side and followed up
on the case like any other family member.”
His face is calm, I can’t read what’s really going on his
mind.
“Did you follow up on the killer’s family after his death?” I
ask.
“It wasn’t my place, so no,” he says.
“Someone is financing the killer’s fiance and daughter. I
wanted to know if you don’t know anything about it
because…” Let me end it here, I can’t bring Nale’s name
into it.
“How do you know this?” he asks.
“I did a follow up and saw them on Facebook,” I say.
“No, I don’t know anything about that. What makes you
think they are not financing their own lives?” He’s asking
a valid question, but Nale’s suspicions cannot be
dismissed.
“I just think it’s worth looking into,” I say.
“I can do that to prove my innocence to you. But after we
find out that maybe someone is financing them perhaps
to pay the debt, what would we do? Thobile’s kids don’t
care, they have a new mother. Her husband also didn’t
care. I’m not in good terms with my family, what reason
would I give for digging things up?”
“Maybe it would be your way of reuniting with your
brother’s kids and make peace. You want that, right?” I
ask.
“I do but I know that they will never give me a chance as
long as MaMkhwanazi is there,” he says.
“She’s not untouchable, nobody is. Just because your
brother failed to get justice for his kids’ mother doesn’t
mean you must also throw in the towel.” Looking in his
eyes I can tell that he’s innocent. If Xolani was capable
of hiring a hitman to put 16 bullets in a woman’s head he
would’ve done the same to MaMkhwanazi a long time
ago. He has many reasons to.
I get off the chair and take his hands, turning him around
so we stand face to face. I want him to be okay with his
family, he can’t be a loner forever.
“You’re the only father figure they have now. Take on
that role and forget about MaMkhwanazi for a moment.
She doesn’t deserve any part of you and you’re giving
her so much power over you. So what if you two didn’t
end up together? I’m here.”
He smiles, “Nokuzola, you’re going to make the old
man's heart beat too fast. What are you saying?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. I have been thinking
about your proposal and I want us to try, but on
condition that we have our eyes on the future, not the
past,” I say.
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
“Well, in a multiple choice format, yes.”
He lifts me up and turns to put me on top of his desk. He
buries his head on my shoulder and severally pecks my
neck, causing me to giggle like a little girl.
He finally lifts his head and we share our first kiss. This
is the quickest I’ve ever gotten in a relationship, I haven’t
known him that long but I know I want something solid
out of this. I want something that’s going to last for a
lifetime.
-
-
-
I’m a shy person, I don’t know if I will ever adjust to his
lifestyle. He does a lot to express his love. I’m the only
woman carrying two dozen of red roses and a bag of
goodies. His love language is louder than his
personality. I’ve never had a man who buys me flowers,
gets me food and holds my hand at the mall to show
everyone that I’m his. It’s a bit overwhelming but I’m
enjoying it. Now that we are official I have to tell Nale
about our relationship. I don’t know how she will take it
because she’s now close to Nzalo and she still holds on
to her lie that Xolani threatened her.

He parks down our road, it’s almost midday.

“Are you still going back to the Casino?” I ask.
“No, I need to go and rearrange my house,” he says.
I don’t know why I’m smiling. “Why?”
“Because I have turned on a new page in my life and I
need to make sure everything is organized,” he says.
I’m not going to do sleepovers yet, I won’t easily break
my celibacy. This relationship is still new, there’s a lot we
need to learn about each other before we get there.
“You go and rearrange your house and I will go and take
a nap,” I say.
“Without kissing me goodbye?” He turns my face and
leans his forehead on mine.
I close my eyes and welcome his lips on mine. This one
lasts longer, he doesn’t want to let go.
We finally break it off, he rubs my lip with his finger, his
eyes locked on me.
“I’m not going to take this for granted, MaThabethe.
Inhliziyo yakho ngizoyiphatha kahle, thank you for
trusting me with your heart,” he says.
“I believe you.” I really do but we are going to take this
step by step.
“We will talk on the phone, keep it close,” he says.
I walk inside the house with a smile stuck on my face.
I’m really dating. I’m in a relationship!!!
-
-
-
Nale is standing with her hands on her hips and a wild
look on her face. I take it she’s already seen his car, she
knows that he’s been my Anonymous lover. We have to
work around it as cousins because I’m not going to let
Xolani go.
“Mr X, really Zola?” She’s shocked.
I expected this reaction.
“I will explain, wait.” I have to put my things in the
cupboard and take a deep breath.
I have a fuckin’ boyfriend.
“I can’t believe this. It’s been Mr X all this time and you
went to see him right after I told you what I think he
might have done.”
“He didn’t do it. I asked him about it and he said he’s
willing to investigate,” I say.
She puts her hands over her head. “You did what?”
“I didn’t mention your name, I said it like it was my own
suspicions,” I tell her.
“I was telling my cousin whom I trusted with my life and
inner thoughts. And you went and told him everything?”
She’s crying.
“I’m done!” she sniffs and walks away.
This is dramatic and I don’t think I’m really the reason
why she’s crying. I didn’t mention her name, Xolani and I
were talking before her phone call. I needed closure for
myself, I had to ask.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 14
NALENHLE

I’m miserable and hopeless. Yesterday Zola and I went

to bed without resolving our issues, today I went to work
leaving her in bed. Now I’m coming back to her ready for
her shift. I want us to talk but she doesn’t look like she
wants to. Nzalo and I had no defined friendship or
anything close to that, but we were cool. It feels worse
than a break up with Tom. I keep hoping that he’s going
to come and apologize, but another part of me wants
this to be the end. My life has been dramatic ever since I
got involved with the Hadebes. Now Zola is dating Mr X,
I’m better off the equation.
“There’s food in the microwave,” she says, closing her
lunchbox.
“Thanks.” I open the microwave. It’s not home-cooked
meal but Nandos cheese roll and chicken with chips. Mr
X obviously bought this. Zola knows how I feel about
him, this is just another thing that’s going to make us
fight.
I close the microwave. “Thanks but I will cook, I’m
craving potatoes.”
“Really?” She rolls her eyes and pulls the chair to
sit.There are issues, she’s very much aware of that. “Are
you going to give me your blessing or what?”
“With Mr X?” I ask.
“Xolani, yes. He makes me feel happy. I have never had
a man who listens to me and do things for me the way
he does,” she says.
I pull the chair and sit too. “I want you to be happy, but
Mr X? How do you even know that his intentions are
pure?”
“Wait!” she takes her phone and scrolls down the screen
and then gives it to me. It’s an E-wallet of R500.
“It’s for my taxi fee and lunch. He wanted to send a
driver to take me to work but I declined. I don’t want to
change my lifestyle overnight. Then he sent me the
money for taxi and lunch.” she says.
“But your return is R30 and you have your lunchbox.”
Even though I don’t like Mr X, this deserves a round of
applause. Older men are what they’re always said to
be...ATMs.
“He’s different, I really want to give him a chance,” she
says.
I can tell she’s speaking from her heart. Do I trust Mr X?
No.
“How old is he again?” I ask.
“Does it matter? He’s only 14 years older than me,” she
says.
I can’t believe she just said “only” before 14 years older.
When my aunt was pushing her out of the womb Mr X
was already having wet dreams and masturbating.
“Nzalo is also old,” she tries to justify it.
Nothing can ruin my mood faster than the mention of
that man’s name. But I still defend, he’s not old at all,
he’s within our age bracket.
“Did you guys break up?” she asks.
I can’t help but laugh. “Break up? We have never been a
thing.”
“Then why are you heartbroken?” She’s asking a valid
question.
Why am I heartbroken?
“You enjoyed his company, didn’t you?”
I let out a heavy sigh and nod. Acceptance is the first
step towards healing. I did like being around him, it
didn’t have to be romantic.
“Are you going to need a bottle of wine?” she asks.
My way out of every sad situation has always been
alcohol, but not this time.
“I want to cry and sleep,” I say.
“Aw mzala, you’re really sad.” She comes and hugs me.
Whenever someone sympathizes with me, I cry. She
holds me while I flood my face with tears. I’m in pain but
I don’t want to numb myself with alcohol, I want to feel
every ounce of it. Maybe after this I will stay away from
men I’m not related to.
“Are you going to be okay?” Zola asks.
“Yeah.” I nod, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything mzala,” she says.
“Block him, let’s not talk to him ever again.”
“Your enemy is my enemy, period.”
“But Mr X is my enemy too.”
She laughs and picks her bag. “Hold it right there, I need
to figure out how I’m going to spend my R500.”
“Invest it on me,” I say.
“Never!” She walks out, laughing.
She’s really happy, I don’t know if Mr X is genuine but I
have to accept their relationship and be happy for her.
She’s done the same with all the assholes I’ve been
with.
-
-
-
My phone rings. It’s my uncle, I haven’t called home in
two days, I was going through a lot.
“Thabethe,” I answer.
“I almost went to the police to open a missing person
case. Why are you not calling your family?” he asks.
“I’ve been busy malume, I’m sorry. How is everyone?”
“We are all fine. How are you and Nokuzola?”
“We had a fight yesterday but now we are good.”
I hear him taking a heavy sigh. Zola and I hardly argue, I
hope he knows it’s not that deep.
“I need you both home this Sartuday,” he says.
“Why? Is there anything wrong?” I ask.
“No, there’s a little something that we need to do as a
family,” he says.
“Okay, I will tell her when she comes back, you know
how her shifts are.” I know we are called for a ritual or
ceremony, my uncle never gets tired of slaughterings
I didn’t do my laundry yesterday, I need to do it this
evening and keep myself busy before I get sick thinking
about the Hadebes. At least I will be home during the
weekend, that will also help me get over it. Who knows,
next week when I come back I might meet someone
special.
Oh no, I said I need a break from men.
-
-
-

It’s Saturday, both Zola and I are home as malume

instructed on Monday. I thought there’s a ceremony but
he just says he missed having both of us home at once.
Zola is in love, it’s so obvious that even her mother
keeps frowning at her. She’s on Whatsapp most of the
times smiling to herself.
“What is in that phone?” Auntie finally asks.
“Just memes,” she shrugs and puts her phone down.
Auntie looks at me hoping I will share, unfortunately it’s
not my place. I leave them to catch up, maybe Zola will
let the cat out of the bag. I go to my mother’s bedroom
where she’s resting. Even though she can’t talk to me
back, I like having conversations with her. She never
judges me…not that she can.
“My heart was broken again,” I tell her.
She holds my hand, comforting me.
I laugh, “It’s not that serious, he wasn’t my boyfriend. His
surname is Hadebe, I hope I’m not related to it. I always
worry about associating with my dad’s relatives without
knowing we share the same blood.”
I know this is not a good topic, he’s my dad but to her
he’s a rapist. But I want to share my thoughts with her
every now and then, she’s my mother.
Malume calls me from the kitchen. I just left, what does
he want?
“I will be back,” I tell my mother.
I walk in to the kitchen, auntie is dishing up. I have my
own plate, so does Zola.
“You two will eat in one bowl,” she says.
Zola has the same reaction as me. “As old as we are?”
“Are you short of food?” I ask.
“I used to share from the same bowl with three cousins
growing up. This will strengthen your relationship, eat
up,” malume says.
Now I know why he’s doing this. I said Zola and I had a
fight on Sunday, now he’s making a big deal out of it. We
are both grown women, we argue and resolve our
issues. I don’t think this thing works, we are still not
going to see everything the same way. But I take a
spoon and we both eat from one bowl. Zola’s throat is
three years older than mine, I have to pick up my eating
pace before all the rice disappears in front of my eyes.

Eating from one bowl like the Zwane people wasn’t

enough assurance for my uncle. Now he’s filled a big
basin of water for us to share a bath. We did bath
together growing up, our bodies were still innocent
God’s temples. But now it’s disgusting, Zola’s body is
now Mr X’s temple.
“Is this necessary?” she asks her father, she feels
exactly the same.
“You two question everything. I know you categorize as
adults but under this roof you’re children. Don’t throw
away that water after you’re done,” he says and walks
away.
We can’t share the same bath and wash our whole
bodies, even though he expects that. We wash our
faces separately and only put our feet inside the water
together.
Zola stretches her neck, glancing around, then leans
closer to me. “There’s an update regarding Mazwi’s
family.”
I’m no longer interested in the Hadebes but gossip is
gossip, I want all the details.
“His daughter received a scholarship, neh. Her mother is
currently single and unemployed, so your suspicions
were right to some extent. This scholarship is from
Steelwork Productions, owned by Gabisile Ngobese who
happens to be a member of the same church that your
mother-in-law goes to.”
“Who is my mother-in-law?” I’m confused.
“MaMkhwanazi,” she says.
I swear, if I slap this girl she will fly to Limpopo and
dance with Makhadzi. MaMkhwanazi can never be
anything that starts with “mother” to me.
“Is it possible that the scholarship is just a front?” I ask.
“Anything is possible. Xolani wanted to let this case be
but I asked him to get more information. Who knows,
maybe Thobile Hadebe might finally get justice,” she
says.
“That would be good but I don’t know if her kids would
come on board if they find out that the evidence points
to their beloved stepmother.” I have hung out with Nzalo
enough to know that he’d go to the moon and back for
MaMkhwanazi.
“Why does Mr X hate her so much anyway?”
“She was with him before,” she says.
I was standing on one leg drying the other, I almost fall
to the ground. Mr X and MaMkhwanazi? I wonder if
Nzalo knows about this. She had the audacity to tell me
that Thobile is turning in her grave because of me
whereas she jumped from one dick to another, opening
her legs for two men who laid in the same womb.
“So mzala now tell me, are you fighting for justice or you
low-key want to remove his ex from the community?” I
ask.
She laughs out loud. “I’m a ten out of ten baby and he
knows that I’m the prize.”
“Okay, you go girl!” I’m definitely team Zola, if
MaMkhwanazi ever becomes a problem in their
relationship.
Malume collects our bathwater and puts a fire of flame in
the middle of the yard, then he puts it out with our dirty
water. Do I think this will make Zola and I inseparable?
Yes, only because we’ve been that way since growing
up. I don’t know why he’s taking this so seriously. It’s not
like we try to kill each other when we fight. It’s just
disagreements and ignoring each other for a couple of
hours.
-
-
-

AT THE HADEBES

Nzalo came home but there’s some tension.

MaMkhwanazi makes him a cup of coffee and decides
to address the elephant in the room. They can date
whoever they want, she’s always welcoming to
Msindisi’s different girlfriend. Some she’s hosted for
dinners and found out the next week that the
relationship had ended.
“Are you in love with her?” she asks.
Nzalo’s brows furrow. “In love with who?”
“That statuesque girl with big eyes,” she says.
Nzalo takes one more sip before putting the cup down.
He’s been wanting to talk about it but didn’t want to
come across as disrespectful. She just lost a husband,
he’s very mindful of that.
“Nale and I are not dating,” he says.
“Then what was she doing in Thobile’s house?”
“I asked her to come over and help me celebrate my
mother’s birthday since I wanted to be in the house.
She’s the only person that makes me comfortable when
I’m there.”
Her eyes widen. “So that wasn’t the first time she was in
Thobile’s house?”
“No, we’ve been hanging out.” He takes a deep breath,
there’s a shallow smile on his face. “Yazi ncane
whenever she’s there it feels like my mother is also
present.”
MaMkhwanazi frowns, “How so?”
“She reminds me of her, and there’s just something
about her, she’s special.”
“But you said you don’t love her,” – MaMkhwanazi.
“I didn’t say that, it's just that she is the 50 shades of
craziness, I haven’t figured what makes her tick,” he
says.
“Nzalo please don’t tell me that you want to ask her out
just because she makes you feel comfortable in your
mother’s house.” She can’t take this.
It’s okay if they remember their mother here and there,
but Nzalo can’t bring someone who’s going to be
significant and representing what Thobile was to them.
“She’s currently mad at me but time will tell,” he picks
his cup and sips again.
MaMkhwanazi takes a few deep breaths and then
smiles.
“She will stay mad at you because you’re keeping her in
that empty house, starving her instead of coming here to
eat and then go do whatever you do in that house.”
“But you two don’t get along,” Nzalo says.
She chuckles, waving him away. “Nonsense! I will never
stand in the way of your happiness, if she’s the one then
bring her to me for dinner one of the days.”
Nzalo smiles, maybe Nale will forgive him after finding
out that he’s resolved the misunderstanding between
them.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 15
NALENHLE

I’m coming back from work exhausted, we came back

late from home yesterday and I had to wake up early for
work today. For the first time I’m praying Mr X had some
food delivered for his boo. I’m too tired to cook, or to
even eat our nonsense food that we have in the house.
I get off the taxi and plug in my earphones, ready to
burst my music that I got from Whatsapp-digital-music
store. My eyes land on the black Avanza, maybe Mr X is
here to pick Zola. Him and I haven’t ironed out our
issues, I don’t even think I want to, I have moved on
from the situation.

I make my way inside, just two steps from the door his
Fougere scent hits my nose. I pause and contemplate
what my next step is. Before I can make up my mind,
Zola raises her eyes and calls my name. I thought we
agreed that he’s now our mutual enemy. I take a deep
breath and proceed. Zola stands up, she’s already
dressed for work and holding her bag. I feel betrayed
and she’s just smiling at me.
“See you tomorrow,” she says and walks out, leaving me
with the serial killer.
I wrap my earphones and put them inside my bag. I’m
not looking at him but I can feel his burning stare on me.
I sit on the couch and take off my work jacket.
“Hello,” he says.
I don’t respond, I start fixing my jacket’s zip.
He chortles, “You’re still angry at me?”
I finally raise my eyes to him. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing. How are you?” he asks.
“I’m fine, just tired and not in the mood.”
“I can see,” he says.
“So what do you want?” I ask.
“I want us to reconcile. So I’m here to say I’m sorry, what
I did to you was wrong. Truce?” He’s so quick to shout
truce, I haven’t even done all my annoyed facial
expressions.
“I don’t like it when you don’t talk to me,” he says.
His voice could’ve deceived me into thinking he’s being
genuine, but I'm not naive.
“We don’t talk like that, we don’t even call each other.” I
don’t understand why he’s making it sound like we are
regular chat buddies. We only talk when we see each
other.
“It’s different to not talk because we are busy from not
talking because you’re angry at me,” he says.
Don’t be flattered, Nale.
“Okay,” I say with a straight face.
“You forgive me?”
“Yes, I just said okay.”
Here I am, giving him another chance to let his
stepmother disrespect me.
“Now can you leave the jacket alone and look at me,” he
says.
I look up with a light frown. Is he trying to control me
now? Am I one of his employees?
“I missed you,” he says.
“Oh well, I can’t say the same because I’ve been too
busy to think about insignificant things.” I was home, I
forgot he existed before walking in and finding him on
our couch. What was his name again?
“So you didn’t cry?” he asks.
Zola is testing me. We just got our bond strengthened at
home, why would she betray me like that?
He laughs. “Don’t be embarrassed, I’d be upset too if I
didn’t see my face for a week.”
Pshhhh! His face is not even that cute.
“You’re so full of yourself, I need to freshen up and
cook.” I get off the couch and take my jacket.
He picks the TV remote, I don’t think he’s going to leave
anytime soon.
“What can I watch here?” he asks, turning the TV on.
Zola and I haven’t paid our DSTV bill, we are still
planning to. It’s not like we watch TV everyday, most of
the times we are at work and our subscription goes to
waste.
“Other channels are locked but you can watch Channel
100,” I say.
He switches to it. I don’t think he understands what I just
said, rich man’s son never had his channels locked by
DSTV due to unpaid bills. I won’t explain anything, this is
a little welcome to the real world.
I freshen up and pick a dress I normally don’t wear to be
indoors. It fairly shapes out my body, which I’m not trying
to show off. That’s not my intention at all, I just want to
put on a dress that I bought with my hard-earned money.
I cover my head because I’m too lazy to style my hair.
Oh, he’s switched the TV off.
He looks up as I walk in. “Why did you make me watch a
promo channel?”
“It’s the only channel we have available at the moment,
you get to watch everything in one place.” Isn’t that so
cool?
“Do you guys ever pay for this TV?” he asks.
“No, we are very poor.” I walk past, making my way to
the kitchen.
Is he really not going to stop me and offer me a
restaurant dinner?
I look back, he’s looking at his phone, not at me. Sigh! I
dressed up for nothing.

I had my hopes up, now I’m disappointed and lazy to

cook. I chop the cabbage and put it on the stove to boil.
I throw one stock cube and cow intestines. Whatever
comes out of this will be my stew to eat with phuthu. I
wait for it to cook and taste it, more seasoning is
needed.
The outcome isn’t something to serve a guest. But if he
took me to a restaurant, even a dodgy one with food that
looks different from the menu pictures, we wouldn’t be
eating this.
He takes the plate, looks at the cabbage that still has its
original color.
“This looks…healthy,” he says.
It's not a compliment, we all know how healthy meals
taste.
"Ngathi okwasesbhedlela, kuhle," he says my food looks
like hospital food.
“Thank you,” I take the shade with grace.
He digs in, I’m staring at him so he chews and
swallows.He doesn’t finish his plate but he eats half of it.
I guess he was hungry, beggars can't be choosers. I’m a
proud cook anyway.
“It’s getting late, we should get going,” he says.
“We?” I’m lost, did he bring an invisible friend with him.
“You said you forgive me, so I thought you’d come with
me to my house. Remember you said you want to see
it,” he says.
“So forgiveness means a sleepover to you? You end up
taking over your bed, why would I want to leave my bed
that I don’t share with anyone for you?”
He laughs, “I promise today I won’t fall asleep in your
room.”
So I have a room in his house as well. Why doesn’t he
just change the title deed and give both houses to me?
I pack my pyjamas, clean work uniform and lunch bag,
then off we go. I text Zola on the way, letting her know
that she won’t find me in the house in the morning. We
have renewed our friendship or whatever this is,
hopefully from now on he will defend me from
MaMkhwanazi.
-
-
-
Being in his house feels different. I’m sitting on the
couch in an open living room feeling cold. He showed
me the room, I left my bag inside and came back to
watch TV. He comes back from the kitchen with sliced
fruits and juice in two glasses.
“You look bored,” he says.
“I’m not, this is how I am when I’m in a space I’m not
familiar with,” I say.
“But in my mother’s house you weren’t like this, you
were going through the rooms and opening cupboards.
Do you not like my house?” He’s being sensitive and
reading too much into nothing.
“It’s beautiful, I like it,” I say.
We eat in silence, watching TV. I’m tired, I want to go to
bed, tomorrow morning I’m going to work. I check my
Whatsapp and find nothing exciting. Okay, it’s time to
sleep.
He looks at me as I stand up, stretching my arms.
“Hhayi-bo Nale, are you that bored here?”
“No, I’m tired,” I say it for the second time.
His house is…well, not empty but it feels empty. I don’t
feel comfortable as I do in his mother’s house, I didn’t
even step in his kitchen. Maybe it’s because of the sleek
and white walls, giving me the mortuary vibe.
-
-
-
He walks in after a few minutes, I’m already in bed. He
puts a bottle of water next to me and sits. I can see that
he’s now a bit concerned.
“I’m tired Nzalo, I was at work for 9 hours,” I say.
“I know.” He takes his shoes and socks off, then gets in
bed.
We are not sharing again, are we?
“You said you won’t…” I don’t finish.
He cuts me short, “I will go, who said I want to sleep
here? My bed has a headboard.”
I laugh, he’s dissing his own guest bedroom, this
headboard-less bed still belongs to him.
“MaMkhwanazi invited you for dinner,” he says.
I was feeling sleepy, but not anymore. Say what now?
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I told her how special you are. She’s my
mother, if you’re special to me you’re also special to
her,” he says.
“You told your mother that I’m special yet you’ve never
told me.” How does that work? MaMkhwanazi was the
first to know about how special I am.
“I’d rather show you,” he says.
“But you’ve never showed me, you said I’m annoying the
other day.”
He laughs, “Being special doesn’t mean you can’t be
annoying at times. But just for the record, you’ve only
annoyed me once and that was when you were running
towards my father’s coffin.”
Was there a need to bring that up though? If I could I’d
go back to the funeral and uncry.
“The other times I thought you were doing and saying
things to rub me off the wrong way. And I think you do
that just for the fun of it, to anyone,” he says.
“But you don’t know me like that.” I feel judged and I
don’t think he has enough knowledge about me to draw
conclusions.
“I don’t feel like I know the real Nale. I know the
characters that you’ve given me, which I don’t think any
of them are really who you are,” he says.
I have been insulted before but this takes the cup.
“Are you trying to say I’m fake?” I’m astounded.
“No, you’re not fake. But I feel like you have characters
that you act to face situations.” Indirectly, he’s still calling
me fake.
“So you’re pyscho-analyzing me now?” I’m offended by
his accusations. If he was so good why didn’t he analyze
details around his mother’s death.
“I’m not, that’s just how I feel. Am I not allowed to voice
out my feelings?”
“Feelings about my life?” Hhayi, I thought I’ve heard it
all. Now he’s entitled to have feelings about my life!
“Maybe I should put it this way, can I get to know
Nalenhle better?” he says.
This is what he should’ve said in the first place. But now
it’s too late because I’m pissed and I’m going to turn my
back on him until he leaves.
“Seriously? We just reconciled less than 3 hours ago.”
He peeps over my shoulder, smiling like nothing serious
is happening. “I’m sorry ke,” he says.
“Ke?” I turn my face to him.
He does the unthinkable and kisses my lips. It catches
me off guard, I’m not even sure if it really happened or I
imagined it.
“Nzalo did you…?” Oh hell yeah, he did. My lipgloss is
on his bottom lip.
“That’s a violation, you can’t kiss me without asking.” I’m
not mad enough about this and he sees it, that’s why
he’s still smiling.
“Okay ngiyacela, can I have a kiss?”
“Why?” I think my face gives it away that I’m not refusing
this kiss.
“Because I’m attracted to you. I want to be around you
as much as I can," he says.
“You know that I got out of a relationship not so long
ago. You want to be my rebound?”
He laughs. “I plan to stick around for a very long time,
honey.”
“Okay, kiss me,” I say.
He leans closer, aiming for my lips.
“On my cheek,” I say.
“Come on, I want a real kiss, I want to taste your lips,”
he says.
I know I look modern and act like I’m moving with times,
but I’m actually from the rural village, I need him to ask
me out first.
“Ngifuna ukushelwa, I want you to ask me out like we
are in old days,” I say.
He throws back his head and laughs.
I’m not even trying to be funny, I mean it.
He takes my hand and softly kisses the back of it. “Okay
I will ask you out, but can I get a kiss and cuddle just for
tonight?”
“Just for tonight?” I ask to be sure.
“I promise.” He turns me around and entwines our
fingers together.

I have never looked into his eyes so close before but it

feels like I have done it since forever. I feel his breath
feathery soft on my cheek, his eyelids flutter and then
close as our lips meet. I feel the warmth of his tongue as
he parts his lips to tangle with mine. People say your
first kiss should send shivers to your body and escalate
your heartbeat. But mine feels so calm, like I’ve known
him forever.
He pulls away with a muffled moan, our fingers are still
entwined together. He ogles at me with a smile on his
face, “Dudlu ntombi! Awungiphe amanzi nakhu ngisha,
ngishiswa wuthando.”
“That’s boring, I want you to ask me out the modern
way,” I say.
“You’re contradicting yourself but everything and
anything for you.” He kisses my forehead and smiles at
me again.
I think I have been acting around him, just to hide how
much I’m actually attracted to him. But that doesn’t
make me a fake person!

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 16
ZOLA
I thought I was doing a good thing. I have a loving family
that I’m very close with, that’s what I want for him too.
But I’m starting to feel like maybe I’m making a mistake.
This little investigation I motivated him to do has put an
emotional strain on him. He’s tense, I can see from his
flexed jaw as he drives me home from work. I tried
turning him down but he insisted, saying he’s
uncomfortable with his woman taking taxis early in the
morning. I guess he forgets that this is the life I’ve been
living since I was in my early 20s.

He pulls up outside the house, he’s never been inside

before. I’d invite him in for a cup of tea but he’s on his
way to work, I can’t delay him.
“Maybe you should call MaMkhwanazi,” I say. I know
he’s got a lot in his chest that he wants to talk to her
about outside Thobile’s case. “Let her know that you
know what’s happening and then watch what her next
move is going to be. What you have is not enough to
convince the world that she was behind the murder.”
He takes a deep sigh and scrolls down his phone. He’s
calling his ex on loudspeaker and I’m sitting right next to
him. We are not even enjoying the tender stage of our
relationship because we have put a mission to punish
MaMkhwanazi for her sins as the main priority.
“Hello,” she answers.
He takes another deep breath, “Phindile, I hope you’re
well.”
“What do you want?” she asks.
Nothing about her tone fits the Christian picture I had.
“It’s about Mazwi’s family, someone is paying them and
that raises a lot of questions to me. I think he was sent
to kill Thobile, he made a deal with someone who’s still
paying off the debt.”
“What are you saying Xolani?” Her tone changes
instantly, she no longer sound angry.
“I’m going to tell Nzalo and Msindisi, I’m sure they’ll want
to know more,” he says.
“No, you can’t do that. I mean they’re kids,” she says,
sounding edgy.
“Nzalo is 33 years old, Msindisi is 25, they can handle
this.” He’s leading her straight to the trap.
And just like that, she steps right into it. She sounds
more fearful now.
“Let’s meet and talk about this as elders, there’s no
need to make them relive the trauma,” she says.
Xolani looks at me, I’m certainly feeling a type of way
about them meeting but I give him a nod and he
continues making arrangements with her.
“You will come with me,” he says.
“No, I’m fine.” I’m not going to be insecure, I have never
met MaMkhwanazi but I know she’s not a piece of meat
that can stuck on my throat.
“I want you to come with me, I don’t want to do anything
crazy to her,” he says
We are still in early stages, I wasn’t ready to come out to
his family members and enemies as his girlfriend. But I
will go and be by his side, if that’s going to make him
feel comfortable.
He puts the phone away and looks at him, his lips finally
cracking a thin smile. “Things are getting in the way of
us strengthening our love. When are you visiting your
man ntomb’ emhlophe?”
“What’s the rush? We always see each other,” I say.
“Awu MaThabethe, even if it’s just for one night, you’re
off today. I have no other intention other than wanting to
spend time with you,” he says.
There’s a way he looks at me, I don’t think any man has
looked at me like this before.
I betray my own set principles and agree. “Do I come
after the meeting with MaMkhwanazi?”
“You can just come with your bag at once, go and have
some rest for now,” he says.
I lean over for a kiss, careful not to wrinkle his shirt.
When I pull away he holds my hand.
“I love you,” he says.
The L word hasn’t been said before, we liked each other
and started this relationship about a week ago.
“You love me?” I’m still trying to take it in.
“Yes I do, I love you.” His stare doesn’t shift, it’s like he
wants me to read what he’s saying in his eyes. Every
doubt I had about him no longer exists, I believe he’s an
honest man who hasn’t been given a chance to prove
his innocence. And I’m not going to make him fight for
me the way he’s fighting for his family.
“I’m going to be your happy place, just one thing that’s
going to bring you peace,” I say.
“I appreciate that, thank you.” He kisses my hand and
lets me go.
Our relationship is growing faster than I anticipated. I
wanted to take things slowly but the universe wants us
to get right into it. I’m going to be by his side when he
faces MaMkhwanazi.

Nale went to Nzalo’s place, I knew it was going to

happen that’s why I didn’t entertain it. When Nzalo came
knocking on our door, I let him in and I knew they were
going to make up. I’m not sure if they’ve realized that
they’re in a relationship and they’ve been in it for a
couple of weeks. I’ve met different guys before, Nale is
the type that believes in indoda, she starts picturing a
wedding right after the first date and that’s why she’s
always heartbroken. But with Nzalo it’s different, she
doesn’t even realize that she’s in a relationship with him.
I have hope, it will be different than any other
relationship she’s had in the past.
My father calls, I just got in bed after setting the alarm
clock for 1pm.
“Are you and your cousin getting along?” he asks.
“Yebo baba, we are okay.” I don’t know why he’s so
fussy about it these days, we are always okay.
“I had a bad dream about both of you,” he says,
ebidently concerned.
“What was it about?” I ask.
“You were going against each other, there was a woman
in between. Please don’t let people come between the
two of you,” he says.
“Don’t worry baba, Nale and I are okay,” I assure him.
“Alright, have a rest I’m sure you’re tired,” he says,
sounding a bit relieved. I can hear my mother in the
background, she wants him to give her the phone but
he’s shutting her down saying I’m coming from work, it
can wait. I’m sure she wants to ask me for some money,
that’s what my mother is good at.
-
-
-

I have packed a pair of cute underwear, even though I’m

not planning on breaking my celibacy yet but I know how
men can be. If a moment of weakness catches me, I
want to be prepared. I was expecting him to pick me up
but he sent the driver and we are going straight to
Chelmsfold Heights. I have a picture of how his living
space looks like. I know he’s got some plants, large
backyard and achromatic painted walls. He’s laid back,
totally different from the man I thought he was when
Nale told me about him approaching her with a gig in a
bar.
The front door is open, the car drops me off and leaves.
I don’t see anyone, so I let myself inside. Everything I
pictured about the house is true, except that I didn’t
picture a man in an apron standing in the kitchen with a
soup ladle in his hand.
He turns around with a smile. “Oh, hello mam.”
“I almost got lost,” I say.
He hugs me apologizing. “I wanted you to find your meal
ready, I’m sure you’re hungry.”
I am, I woke up and got ready to come here. I didn’t get
a chance to eat and I’m salivating over the aroma
coming from his pot.
He pulls the chair for me to sit and serves me curried
chicken soup with baked cheese sliders. There’s
something weirdly unsettling about how perfect he is in
my eyes.
“So Mr X, what are your flaws?” I ask.
He’s clearing out the sink. “What do you mean, Miss N?”
“Nobody is perfect, what is the downside of being with
you? If you were perfect as I think you are, you wouldn’t
have been single when I found you,” I say.
“The only thing I can say is don’t think I’m perfect
because I’m far from it.” He doesn’t put anything in
details, so I know I have to prepare myself for surprises.
Change of plans, MaMkhwanazi is coming here. She
doesn’t want them to meet in a public space, I guess
she doesn’t want any mistake of being seen with him. I
can’t wait to see her and hear what she wants to say.

He shows me around the house. I didn’t expect him to

have his brother’s kids on the wall but they’re all here,
including the girl. Nzalo was young here, he was in high
school and he looked so different.
“Do they ever come here?” I ask.
“Not Msindisi, he’s far up his stepmother’s ass.” He
moves to the next picture. It’s those old black and white
ones, a picture of a beautiful lady with combed afro. He
doesn’t say who she is, he just moves to the next one.
“Who is that?” I ask, my woman instincts just woke up.
“She would’ve been your mother-in-law,” he says.
I move back to it. “This is your mother? She was
beautiful.”
“Yes, she was. Sadly her heart was not.” He points at
the other one; two boys with a ball in front of them.
That’s him and his late brother. So they once got along.
He stares at it longer than others.
“What happened between the two of you?” I ask.
“Money happened. Our father didn’t leave a will, that’s
when things fell apart,” he says.
“He took all the inheritance?” I ask.
“Yeah, he was appointed to inherit everything as the first
born. He took everything from me, everything!”
I hope he’s not counting MaMkhwanazi as everything
because I’m everything. I blame his family, no child
should be above others, no matter which position they
hold.
“I’m sorry,” I don’t know what else to say.
I don’t think he’s over it. His brother died before they
made peace.
His phone rings, he inhales deeply and answers. It’s her,
she’s arrived.
“I will come after you,” I say. I still want to see more of
his family photos. I snap a photo of Nzalo, I will show
Nale tomorrow. I’m sure she will be happy to see the
young, innocent-looking Nzalo. I have my hopes on him.
I think he’s they key in his siblings reuniting with his
uncle. He’s the eldest, they follow in his footsteps. But
without evidence Xolani cannot convince him that his
beloved stepmother is not the God’s cousin she
portrays, she’s actually the devil’s BFF….
Except that she looks nothing like the devil. She’s
standing in front of him, way too close. Her hand is on
his shoulder until she raises her eyes to me. There’s a
little frown on her face, then Xolani turns his head. I
thought I’d be walking into a war zone. Why is he
allowing her hand on him?
“Who is this?” she asks.
I thought she’d be wearing mourning clothes, not a
spring dress and high-block heels.
Xolani looks at me, “This is Nokuzola.”
He doesn’t shift his eyes away for a minute, trying to
read my face.
I fold my arms and lean against the wall, I’m just going
to watch. My feathers are ruffled a bit. So what would’ve
happened if I wasn’t here? Was he going to let her
seduce him? Is he not over her?
“Oh, another gold-digger,” she says.
I’m not here to dig any gold, she’s insulting me.
“Yes,” he says.
I can’t believe my ears. I’m a gold-digger just because I
accepted a few roses and ate his food?
“Can she go? We are in the middle of a conversation,”
she asks.
He glances at me, I’m fuming.
“Come MaThabethe,” he opens his arm.
I step closer, he wraps his arm around my waist. “As I
was saying, I will be hiring private investigators to look
into the case again.”
“Is this the right time Xolani?” She’s looking at me
uncomfortably.
“Yes, this is the right time,” he says.
“I’m not going to talk about my family affairs in front of a
stranger.” She turns around and walks away.
I won’t lie, she’s a good-looking woman.
“I will talk to Nzalo about it,” Xolani says.
She stops and turns back. “Do not get my kids involved
in this. They have already healed and you don’t know
what it took for them to get there.”
“They healed? I don’t remember them mourning Thobile,
you took over and replaced her. Do you even let them
visit her grave?” he asks.
“They don’t need my permission, they’re grown-ups.”
She’s coming back, arguing about her family affairs in
front of a stranger.
“Now they’re grown-ups?”
She takes a deep breath and glares at him. “What do
you want Xolani?”
“I want…we want justice, all of us as a family,” he says.
“But the murderer died, everyone knows that. Why is it
wrong for his family to move on? So what if someone
was kind enough to get them out of poverty?” She’s
losing it.
“Out of every struggling family it had to be them. How
lucky!”
“It’s fine if you don’t want to let it go but keep me and my
kids out of it.”
“They’re Thobile’s kids,” he says.
It doesn’t look like that was a gentle reminder at all,
she’s shaking.
Does she really want them to be her children? What did
Thobile ever do to her for her to take everything from
her; husband and kids.
“Stay on your lane!” She storms out.
This was fruitless but at least now he has triggered her
to make another move.
He sends a text, typing quickly. Someone is going to be
on her heels, following every move she makes.
I move out of his embrace and fold my arms again,
glaring at him.
“I’m just another gold-digger, really?”
He smirks, “I thought she said goal digger. Did you say
you have a driver’s license?”
“Yes,” I say.
“I hope you still know how drive, I have a car that I
haven’t used in a while. Instead of taking taxis, why
don’t you put your driving skills into good use and take
it?”
“A car? No.”
His ex just called me a gold-digger, why does he want
me to prove her right?
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because it’s a car Xolani, I can’t borrow such a valuable
asset.”
“I value you more than any asset under the sun.” He
unfolds my arms, pulls me with him.
I don’t know if I will take it. I don’t want to be that girl
who’s dating an older man and suddenly driving a car, it
will send out the wrong message. I’m not a gold digger, I
fell in love with his personality, not what he has.
“I saw how you looked at me when you walked in. What
was going through your head?” he asks
“From the way you speak of her, I didn’t think you’d let
her breathe so close to you,” I say.
“I want her to play her game. When I said your heart is
safe with me, I meant it. Right now she’s on her way to
her friend, Gabisile, and I’m with my gold-digger.” He
kisses my cheek.
I can’t even get mad at him.
-
-
-
NALENHLE

I’m standing in taxi stop exhausted. I didn’t sleep well

last night, I had a man snuggled up on me the whole
night and I just felt unfamiliar with his house. I raise my
eyes as I hear a car coming.
Oh no, not the Avanza from yesterday. Why is he here?
He pulls up at the side of the road and rolls down the
window.
“Hello gorgeous, can I have your number?”
I roll my eyes and go to the window. Even though I know
he already have my number, I call it out for him and he
types it on his phone.
“Name?” he asks.
“Nalenhle Thabethe,” I say.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Nzalo Hadebe.”
He’s so dramatic!
“I’d like you to join my family for dinner tonight, 7:30pm.”
“But we talked about this Nzalo.” Now we’ve dropped
the act.
I told him it’s too soon for me to be meeting his
stepmother, plus I don’t trust her.
“It looks bad Nale, I have taken you to my biological
mother’s house, meaning I’ve introduced you to her.
Now MaMkhwanazi feels left out, like I’m marking her off
because she didn’t give birth to me,” he says.
I can’t believe she’s that manipulative.
“She’s childish,” I unintentionally say it out loud.
“Come on, what’s so wrong about it? She just wants to
meet the girl I’m spending so much time with.” It’s
MaMkhwanazi, he won’t see anything wrong with this
rushed dinner.
“Okay,” I agree just for the sake of it.
“Thank you. When is the right time to call?”
“Anytime,” I say.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, I hope we’ll meet again.”
He’s in character again.
But why is he rolling down the window?
“I need a ride,” I open the door and get inside.
He laughs, “But I’m just asking you out. Didn’t your
mother warn you about taking lifts from strangers’ cars?”
"No, my mother can't speak, she's mute," I say.
"It was just a joke." He doesn't take it nicely, just like I
can't take his stepmother's dinner invite nicely. I never
thought I'd be attending family dinners before I even
confirm a relationship with words.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 17
NALENHLE

If Zola was here she would’ve told me this too much. I

criticize people’s make-up but to be honest I’m not a
good make up artist either. After failing to draw
eyebrows that look the same, I opted natural eyebrows
and dark eyeshadows. I tell you what, I look like a
possessed Katy Perry. But it’s too late to make changes,
Nzalo is already on his way. I have packed my overnight
bag with my pyjamas and work uniform because I know
for sure that I’m not coming back tonight.
I’m wearing heels, I don’t want to be mistaken for a
village girl who’s going to wash dishes after dinner. I
look at myself in the mirror, even though my make-up
looks scary I’m actually a beautiful girl. I take a few
selfies and send them to my new friend that I got on a
drinking spree, Slee. She sends back fire emojis,
validating what I already knew.

Nzalo calls saying he’s outside, I grab my bag and make

my way out. I wish he could’ve parked closer, this is a
long distance to walk on pencil heels. I have skinny legs,
what if I trip and they break?
A gentleman would’ve come out of the car with a
camera, whistled and snapped pictures. This elegant
dress I’m wearing is not from free market, I actually
ordered it from Shein and paid shipping fees.
“Do you need help?” That’s what he asks.
My ankle almost twists as I stand. “With what?”
“Oh…you look so beautiful,” he says what he should’ve
screamed the moment I stepped out of the door.
He opens the door, I get inside and give the heels a little
break. Why is he staring at me like that?
“I’m just taking my shoes off, I’m not killing anyone.”
“Absolutely!” he says.
I take out my sleepers from the bag and put them on. I
didn’t sign a contract with the heels, I can wear anything
I want.
“Are you done?” he asks.
I give him a look, he smiles.
“Can I get a kiss now?”
“We are not dating yet, you know that right?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good.”
He brings his face closer, our lips entangle on a brief
kiss. His kisses are going to be my weakness, because
why am I going in for another kiss?
-
-
-

I put my heels back on when we arrived, he held my arm

which made it easy to walk. We are at the dinner table
but MaMkhwanazi hasn’t arrived. Msindisi is getting
impatient saying he hasn’t had a meal in two days
because of his work schedule. I guess they don’t eat
until their beloved queen arrives. I had a sandwich in the
house so I’m still good, she can take her time.

Oh, she’s here.

Her heels are higher than mine. She’s wearing a hat like
this is one of those top family dinners. She’s even
overdressed and outshining the guest.
Nzalo stands up and pulls the chair for her.
“Thank you son,” she sits, Nzalo returns to his seat.
This is too over the top, I only pull the chair for my
mother because she’s blind.
“Can we start over?” Nzalo says turning to me. “Please
meet my father’s beautiful wife, umamncane wami.”
Then to MaMkhwanazi, “This is Nalenhle, she’s the
reason why I haven’t been home often. I’d like us to put
things in the past.”
“Nice to meet you again, Nalenhle,” she says.
I’m not sure we are okay yet, so for Nzalo’s sake I
apologize to her.
“I’m sorry about the scene I made at your husband’s
funeral,” I say.
“No, you’re young, I don’t blame you. I only want to
know if you really care for my son.”
I look at Nzalo, he’s got his eyebrow raised waiting for
an answer to.
“Yes, I do,” I say.
“Good, the last thing we need is someone coming into
our space with unknown intentions,” she says.
I thought I was invited to their space, I didn’t just come
here.
“Can we eat?” Msindisi.
She laughs, “Stop being forward and embarrassing me.
Your brother will start a song and make a small prayer
thanking this dinner, then we will dig in.”
That’s so religious.
I look at Nzalo. Can he sing?
Oh yes, he can. I’m stunned. They really open a church
because of food?
We close our eyes, he prays. I undermined him, he
knows the church language.
“Nalenhle do you go to church?” MaMkhwanazi asks.
“Not physically, I attend with my heart,” I say.
Msindisi laughs, “That makes the two of us.”
“I need to pray for you two.” She’s starting to sound
welcoming and warmer than I anticipated.
She serves around the table before sitting down.
“How is your mom?” she asks.
Umh, she’s looking at me.
“She’s okay,” I say.
“She has a beautiful daughter.”
“Thank you.” I might leave with aching cheeks from all
the smiling.
The food is nice, especially the salmon. Msindisi eats as
much as he complains, maybe he really hadn’t eaten in
two days. This dinner is not what I had in mind, nobody
is interrogating me, I’m getting to see Nzalo as a child
and as crazy as it may sound, I’m seeing why they love
MaMkhwanazi. Had I not known that their mother is late,
I would’ve thought she’s their biological mother.

There’s a dessert, she went all out for me. Nzalo doesn’t
eat dessert, so he goes to check their geyser as
requested. Msindisi eats everything and leaves no
crumbs, then gets a phone call that he takes outside. I’m
left with MaMkhwanazi, craving something stronger than
the drinks we have on the table.
“You look very young, how old are you?” she asks.
“I’m 26,” I say.
“You could’ve been with Msindisi. He’s your age group.”
I’m not sure what to make of her statement. I’m not
attracted to Msindisi and he’s not attracted to me. Who
said I want to be with someone of my age group?
“We are not dating yet, we are still getting to know each
other,” I say.
“Oh, please!” She chuckles, “You’ve been in and out of
Thobile’s house practicing to be his wife. I just hope
you’re not with him because you think he’s going to take
you out of poverty.”
This is what I was expecting from the start, her true
colors.
“I don’t come from poverty. I come from an average
family, both my cousin and I work and earn decent
salaries so we don’t marry men for money.” I hope she
caught that sub, it’s hers.
“Don’t you work at NU? General workers earn R6.5k,
that’s not a decent salary given that you are renting and
have a single, disabled parent,” she says.
I hate it when people bring up my mother to prove and
support their argument. My mother receives grant from
the government and my aunt gets compensated for
being the guardian. I’m content with what I earn, I have
never eyed and hated my line manager, MaKhoza, for
her position and what she earns….right?
“Is Nokuzola related to you?” she asks.
I’m confused. How does she know her name and what’s
her business?
“Yes,” I say.
“She needs to be careful with the man she’s with. You
also need to be careful, that’s why I approve of you
spending time with my son. I wouldn’t want anything bad
to happen to you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I know Xolani, we all do, there’s a reason why we don’t
want him closer to us. He doesn’t take opposing views
and he certainly doesn’t take betrayal. You betrayed
him, that’s why he’s using your cousin to get closer to
you and your family, he’s planning his revenge.”
“No, that’s not true.” It can’t be.
She sips her drink with a mocking grin.
“You’re so young ngane yami!”
“Mr X is not a bad person,” I insist.
“Well, I know him better than you do, he’s my children’s
uncle.”
“He is your ex, that’s why you don’t like him,” I say the
truth. Zola told me about this woman, she’s a devil that
wears high heels and sings Hallelujah.
She’s shocked and worried about her surroundings,
checking if neither Msindisi nor Nzalo are at an ear
distance hearing this. “So he’s now telling people that he
was my ex? I’m keeping quiet because I’m protecting his
image. If we go back there I’d have to tell people why we
broke up, why I have scars that will never heal and
attending therapy.”
“But you betrayed him.” I don’t know why she’s trying to
be a victim.
“Sbusiso saved me from the devil. I’m only telling you
because I care about Nzalo and since he cares about
you, you have to be safe. I’m sure he’s painted himself
as the saint to you and your cousin. He didn’t mention
that he’s a rapist.”
I’m triggered. No matter how much I like a person but
once there’s rape involved, I turn into a hater with
immediate effect.
I take a deep breath, “What are you talking about?”
}} “We broke up because he raped me, everyday. I was
helpless, he was stronger than I am. He was always
angry at his family and taking it out on me. He is a very
violent man, I wouldn’t wish what he did to me even on
my worst enemy.”
“Did you press charges?” I ask.
“I didn’t want him to go to jail. You know how silly you
can be when you’re in love. I believe he was going to
change but he never did. I cried to his family, asking for
help, and that’s how I got to know Sbusiso. He helped
me a lot, medically and mentally. We fell in love and he
showed me how a woman is treated like, Xolani didn’t
take it well. He can’t accept his mistakes and be happy
for people who are happy without him,” she says.
I don’t think she genuinely likes me for Nzalo but I can
put that aside. I hold her hand, the way I hold my
mother’s. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. No
woman deserves that kind of trauma.”
“Don’t worry, I’m good. I’m really good, Nalenhle. I’m in a
better place, I found a good husband and most
importantly I found God. I just don’t want my children to
know all this. I still want to protect his image from them,
even though they don’t like him for all that he’s done in
front of them, but telling them what he really did would
destroy their relationship with him for good.”
“It’s not your job to protect his reputation,” I’m so mad.
“I know, trust me. But I’m a wife kwaHadebe, I have to
build this family, not destroy it. That’s just how it is.”
She’s a better person than I am.
“Enough with sob stories. Guess what? Nzalo told me
that you enjoy lokhu okubabayo and I bought a bottle,
just in case I like you.” She stands up, smiling.
“So you like me?” I ask.
“What’s there not to like about you? I’m coming back.”
I’m quite shocked. Isn’t she a devoted Christian? How
did she even go to a liquor store? My word, God is going
to punish me.
She comes back with the bottle and a glass of red wine
already poured. But she’s holding its bowl, not stem. I
don’t like my wine held like that, her fingerprints are all
around the glass now.
I pick another glass, no offense but she should’ve let me
pour it for myself.
“No, I already…” she says.
“You can have that one, God doesn’t say don’t drink.
Phuza kodwa ungadakwa.” I take the bottle and pour
mine, then raise it for a toast.
“I don’t drink but cheers,” she clicks on my glass and
puts it down.
She’s not bad as I thought, this ended with a good glass
of wine.
-
-
-
I’m a bit tipsy and sad. I have no choice but to tell Zola
what kind of a man she’s dating. We can’t have a rapist
around us. We are in Thobile’s house, I think he brought
me here instead of his house because I wasn’t
comfortable in his house when he took me there.
“Your uncle is really trying to get to me,” I randomly think
out loud.
He looks at me with a slight frown, “Where is this coming
from?”
“It’s just making sense in my head now. I need to refund
him his money,” I say.
“He’s not petty,” he defends him.
Are my ears deceiving me?
“So you’re on his side now?” I ask.
“No, but I know him, he’s my uncle. I’m not saying he’s
wealthy but he’s definitely even forgotten that he once
transferred some cents to you. He doesn’t care about
the situation, he wasn’t even sorry about it when I
confronted him,” he says.
“If you say so.” I’m not resting this case before I get my
cousin out of that relationship.
He lifts me off the couch and pulls my arms up to his
shoulders.
“You were great today,” he says.
“So you expected me to be dramatic and ruin the
dinner?” I’m quite offended because I’m normally a well
behaved young girl.
“I did and you proved me wrong, thank you.” He links his
forehead on mine and takes a deep breath.
“You know Nalenhle, I think you’re a blessing from my
father. The last couple of weeks could’ve been hard, I
lost an important person in my life, my last biological
parent. Meeting you, longing for your attention and
getting addicted to your presence, has helped me go
through grief. I thank you for that and I hope this is going
somewhere.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” I lift my hands to his face. He
lost his parent but didn’t shave. I’m not complaining
though, his beard makes him look mature.
“Can I come to your bed? I’m scared of sleeping alone.”
I roll my eyes, “You need a new book of tricks.”
I knew we would share a bed, we are together but not
really together-together.
-
-
-
I forgot my working boots in the house, so I asked Nzalo
to bring me here so that I can grab them and proceed to
work. Our undefined relationship is going well but this is
one time that I leave a huge space for disappointment in
a relationship. I’m not in with both feet; I have one in and
one out.
Oh shit, Mr X is here.
“Your uncle!” I let out a sigh.
“Uze ekhweni, nami ngize ekhweni.” He’s joking about it.
I don’t want his uncle to be with Zola, this time I have a
valid reason. But I will respect MaMkhwanazi’s wishes
and not say anything about his past.
I kiss him and get out of the car. I don’t know if I’m going
to keep quiet and not say anything. I want to refund him
his money, maybe he will leave us alone.
I pass the sauve silver Urban Cruiser parked in front of
the door. Is Mr X moving in? Should I move out?
I walk in to Zola lying on the couch and reading a book.
“Where is he?” I ask.
She lifts her head up and looks at me confused. “Who?”
“Mr X,” I say.
“He’s at work.”
“But his car is outside.”
“I’m using it.”
“What????”
“He gave it to me.”
Oh no, this is bad.
“You have to give it back.”
She frowns, then laughs. “Mzala, no. Are you crazy?”
“He’s not what you think he is,” I say.
“Says who? MaMkhwanazi. Oh, please. Do you need a
lift?”
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 18
ZOLA

I know it’s wrong to question the victim and this is a

sensitive matter to discuss with Nale. She’s not
reasoning intelligently, her emotions are high. I don’t
know MaMkhwanazi, I have only met her once. But I
know Xolani, I have received nothing but respect from
him. I find it hard to believe MaMkhwanazi’s sexual
abuse allegations.
“You can be with him but he can’t come here,” Nale
says.
We’ve been arguing for the past five minutes. I don’t see
things the way she does, vice versa.
“Let’s say she said that about Nzalo, would you have
concluded that he did it without hearing his side of the
story?” I ask.
“Nzalo is not a rapist,” she says.
Again, not trying to see the point I’m making.
“We share the same house, I don’t see how it’s going to
be possible for me not to bring my boyfriend around.” I
don’t have a problem with Nzalo coming here beside his
differences with Xolani. Why must she have a problem
with Xolani based on his past with MaMkhwanazi?
“Not when I’m around, that’s all I ask.” She ties her
boots and leaves.

A few minutes later I hear the car driving off. I go to the

door and close it. Then I take a deep breath. I just got in
a relationship with this man. He did say he’s not perfect
and I must prepare myself for surprises. But he didn’t
mean sexual abuse. No, that’s not possible.
My phone! I need to call him and find out his exact
location.
His phone is going through but unanswered for a while.
When he finally answers I ask right away. “Where are
you, Xolani?”
“I’m in the casino. Is everything okay?” he asks.
“We need to talk,” I say.
“Okay. Umh, should I come over?”
“No, I’m coming,” I say.
“I will see you when you get here.”
I probably shouldn’t be taking things the way I am
because Nale hates it when she tells me something and
I go confront the person about it. But I can’t go another
hour without hearing what he has to say for himself. I
don’t believe MaMkhwanazi, I think she just wanted Nale
to hate him and found a good spot to hit. But I’m not
going to say he didn’t do it until he gives me his word.
I didn’t even change, I got in the car and forgot all about
my driving fright. This is my first time driving in years, I
didn’t even think I’d remember how to do it. But here I
am, driving from Gandhi’s Hill to Central like a maniac. I
only realize now that I’m wearing rhino onesies; I was
about to go to bed and take a nap because it’s a bit cold
today. As embarrassing as this is, I climb out of the car
praying I don’t bump into anyone I know.
I know my way around, I head to his his office at the
back with my head lowered. The door is open, I don’t
even knock. I walk in, he’s sitting behind his desk.
He stands up as soon as his eyes meet mine.
“I’ve been so worried. Is everything okay?” He’s looking
at the thing I’m wearing and getting even more worried.
“I’m sorry to get you worried.” I don’t want to come off as
if I’m accusing him or believing what is being said about
him. “MaMkhwanazi made a few allegations to Nale
about you that got me worried.”
He undoes his top button, stressing in advance.
“What did she say about me?”
“That you are a rapist, you used to sexually abuse her.”
“Okay. Do you need something to drink?” He opens
another button and walks out without waiting for my
answer.
I take a deep breath and sit on his chair. I don’t think that
went well, he’s upset. It’s sad because whatever he says
to Nale it will be his word against MaMkhwanazi’s and I
already know which side she will sympathize with. I
didn’t want the Hadebe matters to come between us but
it’s going to create a lot of issues if she bans Xolani from
the house and expect me to welcome Nzalo with a smile
on my face. If Xolani can’t come around, neither can
Nzalo. We will keep our relationships away from our
living space.

He comes back almost ten minutes later with a can of

cold drink and glass. He’s buttoned up his shirt.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“No, I’m not okay. But nothing can put me down,” he
says.
“So did you do it?” I need to hear it coming from his
mouth.
“If at any point she felt sexually abused she could’ve told
me. I have never forced myself on anyone. I hate that
she said this to someone from your family, that’s taking
things too far.”
“Nale is now scared of you. My aunt was raped, that’s
how Nale was conceived, so this whole thing triggered
her and she doesn’t even want me to bring you to the
house,” I say.
“That’s fine, I will keep my distance,” he says.
It breaks my heart. I wish there can be something we
can do but he can’t react to emotions while the
investigation is ongoing. We can only hope she’s not
going around saying this to other people because it will
ruin his reputation.
“Is there anything new about the Mdlunges?” I ask.
“Nothing solid yet. But they’ve been cautioned, they
removed their online pictures and the kid disabled her
Facebook account. I’m waiting for more information,” he
says.
“Only if you can get pictures of her meeting up with them
or get bank transactions of her transferring them the
money. I think convincing Nzalo is not going to be easy,
surely she’s told them a lot of things about you.” It
would’ve been easier if Nale was on his side but now
she’s likely not to believe anything that comes from his
mouth.
“We’ll see as time goes.” He scratches his head and
walks towards the window.
I can tell that he’s still angry but holding it back.
“I’m sorry I just came like this, dressed like this and
embarrassed you.”
He looks back, “No, no, you look good.”
“Come on, I came all the way in onesies. I hope nobody
is outside to see me coming out like a big rhino bear,” I
say.
“I can get you a dress, there’s a factory shop across the
street,” he says.
“Really? That would be amazing.” I honestly don’t want
to be in public looking indecent, people snap pictures
and create memes that will stay on the internet forever.
He takes his wallet, kisses my cheek and goes.
I have time to snoop around his office, there’s nothing
suspicious expect a pack of condoms in the bottom
drawer. It’s still sealed but this paints a different picture.
He’s had women in his office for sex. This breaks my
heart, he could’ve waited for me.
The door opens, I push the drawer and step away.
“Hi,”
It’s not him, thank God.
“Hey.” I’m still embarrassed though.
He’s staring at me, probably asking himself who I am
and why I’m dressed like this in the office.
“Xolani went to the shop,” I say.
“Oh, thank you. Can I drop this key here? I’m Mzi, I work
here.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say.
He drops it on the desk and quickly walks out. Let me
drink my Coke and sit in one place.

Xolani comes back, I’m eager to see the dress he

picked. He didn’t even ask my size before leaving. He
puts the packet on the desk. I open and see colour red.
Red is not my favourite color, I associate it with blood.
“It’s cute, thank you,” I say lifting it up.
It’s short and backless, I didn’t expect him to choose a
mini dress as a Zulu man.
“Did you choose this?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says.
“Hhayi-bo.” Let me put it on and see how it fits.
It’s a bit uncomfortable taking my onesies off while he’s
watching. We spent the night together but we both kept
our clothes on. He gave me a space to shower and
dress up before taking his turn.
“You’re short,” he says.
A very random statement.
“I’m not that short, especially if you’re not comparing me
to anyone.” I’m shorter than Nale, my brother is also
growing taller than me. But there are people somewhere
in the world that I’m taller to.
The dress fits. It’s more revealing than I would’ve
preferred but I was taught not to criticize gifts.
“Thank you my love,” I hug him and give him a full view.
“It’s really beautiful on you, come here.” He pulls me to
his chest.
He’s calm now, there’s a relaxed look on his face.
“I don’t want you to get involved in anything that
concerns the Hadebes. I will give you updates about the
investigation but I don’t want that to sit on your
shoulders. I don’t want to change you, I want you to stay
with this beautiful soul.”
I nod, “I hear you.”
“So please Nokuzola, close your ears and pay no
attention to whatever my family is saying about me.
Don’t let that stuff worry you,” he says.
“If it involves my cousin it involves me too,” I say.
“It’s going to divide you and her if you look at it that way.
I don’t want you two to choose sides and be against
each other, I only want you against me.”
I’m confused. “You want us to fight?”
He finally smiles.
“Against me, Nokuzola.” He wraps his arms around my
waist, then drops his other hand lower to touch my butt.
Now I get it.
This is my time to ask
“You have a pack of condoms in your drawer. Why?”
He didn’t expect that. Did he think I will just sit and not
look around?
“What happens in this office?” I ask.
“I’ve been single most of the times, so I wasn’t tied to
anyone and I may have invited people over in the past,”
he says.
“You could’ve just waited for me.” I don’t even want to
think that he’s looked at other women the way he looks
at me. That’s illegal.
He smiles, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I stand on my toes to kiss his lips.
He lifts me up, I’m really short compared to him. He
turns around and puts me on top of his desk, then we
kiss properly.
He pulls back, squeezes my boob and breathes out
heavily next to my neck. “I’m in love with you Zola. I
want you to be in my world, only mine.”
I’ve heard, I will focus more on him and I.
“Can I get another kiss?” he asks.
I answer on his lips. He smells good, his lips are full and
easy to smooch on. This kiss lingers longer and gets
more tense. His hands begin to run and squeeze
sensitive parts of my body.
“Xolani,” I gently push him off.
“Yes?” His voice rumbles before he opens his eyes.
I just wanted him to get back to his senses.
“Fuck!” He moves his hand off my waist and untucks his
shirt from his trouser. I can see that I’ve provoked
sleeping members.
“Ubaba wakho unolaka kakhulu yini?” he asks.
“Yeah, too much. Plus he has a spear and a knobkirrie
with a large knob.”
“I have medical aid,” he says.
“It won’t raise you when you’re dead, my father kills.” I
get off the table and pull down the mini dress I’m
wearing. I think it’s also the cause of this arising
situation. He’s ogling at me with a seductive smile. I love
him, my body reacted to his contact as well, but not
today. And I wouldn’t want our first time to be in his
office.
“So you’re running away now?”
“No, I was about to leave,” I say.
He chuckles, “Okay, but one day is one day.”
“Have a productive day Mr Hadebe and thanks for the
dress.” I blow him a kiss and walk out. At least now I can
walk with my head held up high. Oh shucks, I forgot my
onesie inside.
But I’m not going back, I might not be able to stop things
the second time.
-
-
-

I got ready for my shift a while ago, I’ve been waiting for
Nale to come back so that we can conclude on our
earlier conversation. She just got back, she looks tired.
I’m sure waking up from a man’s place doesn’t make
your day at work easy. I mean, she probably ‘worked’ all
night in bed and then woke up and went to another
work.
“The car is still here,” she says.
“Where would it go? I told you that I’m going to keep it
and my relationship. How was your day?” I ask.
“I was tired and MaKhoza was annoying to the power of
2!” She throws her bag down and lies on the couch.
“But I feel like she likes you, hence you never suffer
short times like everyone else,” I say.
“I used to think to so, but no she doesn’t like me. I’m
only liked by Nzalo.” She’s in love. I’m also in love, but
we can’t even celebrate that.
“I talked to Xolani,” I say.
She raises her up, “About what?”
“The rape allegations,” I say.
“I didn’t ask you to tell him. Ah, you always do this Zola.”
“He’s my boyfriend, I had to know the truth.” I was going
to react to it, she also reacted and came to me after
hearing it.
“So directly asking him was your answer? Did you think
he was going to admit it if he did it?”
“He didn’t do it,” I say firmly.
“That’s not the point right now. You shouldn’t have ran to
him with what I told you I heard. I was warning you, you
could’ve looked for the truth any other way.”
Okay, I’m not here for the rising temper.
I have to leave.
“Xolani said he will keep his distance, tell Nzalo to do
the same,” I say.
“What did Nzalo do?” she asks.
“You don’t want Xolani around, I also don’t want Nzalo
around. It’s simple, both of them must stay away from
our living space,” I say.
“You’re being petty, Nzalo hasn’t been accused of rape
or any crime.”
“That’s the house rule ke, bye!” I have to go before we
get into a fight.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 19
NALENHLE

For me there’s no better day at work but today was

tolerable. I even sat with MaKhoza during lunch break
and had a chat. I didn’t know her husband passed on
two weeks after she got married. She has a son who’s
my age that she couldn’t stop praising. Unlike me, the
boy has graduated university and he's currently in NW
looking for a job. She’s gained my respect, I hold single
mothers at a high value.
Nzalo said he’d be fetching me from work. I don’t think
he can go a day without seeing me. I haven’t told him
that he’s banned from the house yet. Zola and I have
been avoiding each other. I leave for work too early to
avoid her and she comes back from her shift too late to
avoid me. In all this I’m concerned about my uncle. His
prophesy is coming to life, we are starting not to get
along.

I walk out of the gate with my eyes on Whatsapp, trying

to find out how far he is. Only to raise my eyes to him
talking to Zanele, our snack seller who has a shelter
outside the gate.
“Hey, come here,” he says to me.
I make my way there. Zanele hasn’t stopped smiling at
him.
“Oh, it’s you Nale,” she says.
“What did I do?” I don’t trust Nzalo, he could’ve lied
about me to her.
“You’re the lucky lady,” she says.
"No, he is the lucky man. It’s not the other way around,” I
say.
“Okay. Can you buy me a hotdog and Coke?”
I look at him, shocked to the core. I never thought he’s a
gold-digger. He's a wolf under a sheep skin.
“With my own money?” I ask, hoping he’s going to prove
me wrong.
“Yes,” he says.
How shameless are men of today, child of Zion!
“How much will it be?” I ask Zanele.
“R15 for hotdog and R12 Coke,” she says.
Calculation time!
R15 plus R12….that’s R200.No, I can’t.
“Substitute Coke with Fru-Cool, how much?”
“Fru-Cool is R3, so it’s R18,” she says.
I turn to him, “Take any flavor that you want.”
“For real?” He laughs out loud.
I open my bag and take out R20. Lord, it feels like I’m
about to have a stroke. Zanele takes my R20 and gives
me back R2 coin as change. I need an asthma inhaler!
“Thank you sisi,” he says to Zanele, they’re both
laughing.

We go to the car. Today he’s driving a BMW 8 Series,

this is a ride I want when we go out but he’s always
using his father’s cars. My bosses are going to think I’ve
made it in life and start giving me short times, I didn’t
need this today.
“This car is cool, you should’ve came with it the other
day when I looked nice,” I say.
“You always look nice.” He tears the top of his Fru-Cool
with his teeth and unwraps the hotdog. “Can I eat first?”
he asks.
“Yeah, sure.”
I’m a proud breadwinner and probably the first woman to
ever make a guy in a BMW suck icy Fru-Cool with a
hotdog. It’s definitely not easy to have a mouth to feed, I
feel like a single mother and single father at the same
time.
“Is it nice?” I ask.
He laughs as I expected.
“Yes, thank you queen,” he says.
“Enjoy,” I say and turn my camera on to take selfies.
Even though I’m in a work uniform and ugly, I can’t let
this opportunity of being in this car pass me by. Nzalo is
not a rich man’s son in mind, tomorrow he might pull up
in a tipper truck.
-
-
-

He’s done, I have to tell him about the new house rules
because today I’m likely to find Zola still in the house-
I'm early. I still think it’s petty for Zola to ban him from
the house just because I did the same to Xolani. I had a
reason, she has none. I wouldn’t put anything past Mr X,
he’s the same man that was dumped over 100 years
ago and still gunning for his ex’s downfall. That says a
lot about his character. If someone dumped me, moved
on with someone close to me and then I blew up,
became successful in front of them, I’d be the happiest
woman alive. I'd be arriving in my Maybach in family
meetings and eating oysters in the living room.
“You can’t come to the house anymore,” I say.
“Why not? Do you have a man there?” he asks.
“No, we have new house rules,” I say.
He laughs, “You can’t be serious. I’m still going to pop in
and check if there’s any ntshebe trying to take you away
from me.”
“I’m serious Nzalo,” I say.
“Okay mam,” he says.
It’s easy because he’s got his own place, we will still
hang out together.
He’s in a delightful mood, he’s dancing with his head to
the music. It must be nice exploiting women for their
money. We are not safe as women.

He stops the car, takes out the keys and then climbs out
to open my door. I hope he hasn’t forgotten what I told
him just a few minutes ago.
“Zola is still home,” he says.
“Yeah, but where are you going?”
“Just seeing you off, don’t worry I won’t come with you.”
“Good!” I kiss him and bid goodbye.
Zola is still home, we can’t avoid each other forever.
Soon it will be Thami’s birthday and we’ll have to go
home together.
I walk in, she’s still making her lunchbox.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi,” she says.
“How was your day?”
“Good. Yours?”
“Better than other days.”
Then silence…
We are in a very bad place and it’s not even necessary.
I walk away and hear a knock behind me. I look back
and stop dead on my tracks. I told him he can’t come
here anymore.
“Zowie Zee!” he’s walking in.
Zola looks at me, inquisitively. God, I told him not to
come.
“Hey Nzalo,” she says.
“Are you good?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says.
I’m glaring at him and he’s making sure not to turn his
eyes my way.
“Your cousin has banned me from this house. What’s
going on?”He’s fueling the situation, now Zola will think I
told him she said he mustn’t come here anymore
whereas I didn’t even bring her up because I would’ve
then needed to explain how it came to that point.
“What did she tell you?” she asks.
“That I can’t come here anymore,” he says.
“Well, Xolani can’t come either. Nale said she doesn’t
want him around so I told her not to bring you around as
well,” she says.
He finally turns his eyes to me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I shrug.
“Are two okay?”
Zola gives me a stare, I hold it.
“Fine,” she says and turns to him. “Your mother told her
that Xolani raped her back in the days, so she is mad.”
“What???” His brows furrow.
I didn’t say anything to anyone about this except Zola
because we tell each other everything…used to.
MaMkhwanazi said she doesn’t want Nzalo to know
because it will ruin his relationship with Xolani forever
and I was trying to respect that. But Zola with her
running mouth has told more than one person already.
“Nalenhle explain,” he says, evidently upset.
“Zola told me that MaMkhwanazi is Mr X’s ex-girlfriend
who dumped him for his brother. So when she started
accusing me of being with you for the wrong reasons I
brought that up and she explained to me what really
happened between her and Mr X.”
“When were they together?” He’s shocked, I doubt this
is something he’s ever suspected.
“Before your father,” I say.
“That was almost 10 years ago, why would he go around
telling people that a married woman was his ex? What is
the end goal?”
I look at Zola, she’s looking at me, we are both surprised
by the angle his anger is taking. I thought he’d be mad
that his beloved stepmother jumped from his uncle to his
father, but no.
“He had to explain why he hired me to cry at the funeral
to Zola, right? So he was just saying how the whole
thing started,” I say.
“Is that why he’s mad? Does he want her back?”
Umh, not a good question.
“No,” Zola says. “He was betrayed by your stepmother
and his brother. It’s not that he’s bitter about her leaving
him, but ending up with his brother and fuelling him to
turn against him and using his ideas to grow their
businesses.”
“He could’ve taken them to court. The last thing
babomncane is going to do is convincing me that he’s
the victim because he’s never acted like one. You can’t
be the drama and a victim at the same time. He’s the
one hiring side-chicks and telling people that he’s her
ex-boyfriend.”
“I think you’re too angry and not even trying to
understand where he’s coming from,” Zola.
I think I will stand this out and let the future aunt and
nephew argue it out. I’m too young for izindaba zemizi
yabantu.
“Zola, I will never say anything negative about any
member of my family. I don’t get along with him but I will
never talk shit about him to outsiders.”
“Maybe I’m an outsider that listens to him better than his
family,” Zola says.
“That’s okay, good for him. But he can keep
MaMkhwanazi out of it. She’s in her house, minding her
own business and not bothering him with anything.” He’s
always going to protect his stepmother. I’m even
surprised myself that he missed the part where
MaMkhwanazi stabbed his uncle in the back, together
with his father.
“Minding her own business by spreading lies about him
calling him a rapist? Do you know how damaging those
accusations are? His clubs and casino could close
down. Even Nale, the ordinary Nale, has canceled him.
What would happen if this goes viral?”
She’s got a point but she’s very stupid for calling me
ordinary Nale. I’m not ordinary, her unlaid edges on
those braids are ordinary.
“If he didn’t go around calling himself his ex, she
wouldn’t have said that," Nzalo.
“So that makes it okay?” she asks.
He sighs, “Look, I’m not saying it’s okay because I don’t
think he’s a rapist. But he needs to let it go, she was
probably in her early 30s, didn’t know any better and she
changed. If babomncane has any legal grievances he
must let the law handle it. I don’t know anything about
that, I wasn’t there.”
“I think the problem is that you guys never acknowledge
anything being done to him. But I’m not his
spokesperson, I was just explaining the situation
between Nale and I. However I will advise you to just
have a chat with him, just one chat.” She really cares
about Xolani.
“It never end well but for you I will see if I can see him
some time this week,” he says.
Well, at least one positive thing will come out of this.
“But I’m not going to stop coming here though,” he says.
Zola laughs, “You’re breaking the rules.”
“I’m your future nephew, you can’t use children in your
fights.” He comes to me, Zola has packed her lunch bag.
I hope she understands that he trespassed, I didn’t invite
him in.
“I have to go guys. Whatever happens, don’t do it on the
couch,” she walks out.

He turns his eyes to me. Trouble is that you?

“Why didn’t you tell me about what MaMkhwanazi said
to you at dinner?” he asks.
Here we go!
“We talked and ended up understanding each other, so I
didn’t see any need,” I say.
“Why did you tell Zola if you didn’t see any need? If my
mother says something that doesn’t sit well with you I’d
expect you to inform me and let me handle it.”
“But it was already handled,” I say.
“No, Nale. I took you there, I was supposed to know
before you came back to Zola. This doesn’t sit well with
me. Do you even like me?”
Is he being serious? I emptied my bag for him not so
long.
“Do you think I go around buying men hotdogs and
Coke?”
“It wasn’t Coke,” he says.
“That’s not the point. I have never fed any man before
you. I have never visited their late mother’s house,
cooked and went to a homeless shelter to honor their
mother’s memory. I don’t sleep over and cuddle at any
man’s house all night and wake up the next morning and
go to work.”
“But why can’t we be official?” he asks.
“We are not?” I ask.
He smiles, “Are we?”
“But I asked you, are we not?”
“We are, that’s why I want you to be honest with me.” He
wraps his arms around me and takes a deep sigh. “Do
you promise that this is never going to happen again?”
I really don’t like making empty promises.
He raises his eyebrow, “Nalenhle!”
“I don’t feel like you’d have my back anyway, you love
MaMkhwanazi,” I say.
“But I love you as well. I welcomed her to the family
without questioning her character, why would she
question your character? And I don’t understand why
she spoke about babomncane to you the way she did.
We are going to talk about it but my main priority right
now is you.”
“Because I feed you?” I ask.
“Will I ever hear the end of it? Let me go before you tell
all your neighbors that I’m using you for your money,” he
says.
“Are you?” I can't be too sure, men are wired differently
these days.
He laughs out loud. “I will see you later. Don’t cook, I will
bring you food, to make up for the millions I ate.”
“You, my friend, you’re a blessing!” God knows how
unwilling I am to stand in the kitchen and cook. It’s only
fair that he repays me for all that I did for him.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 20

He wanted to see MaMkhwanazi first. He wanted to find

out why she made Nale uncomfortable. If she had any
questions she could’ve asked in front of him, not wait
until he went to fix the geyser. He’s disappointed
because she was the one pushing for the dinner to
happen. Nale didn’t want to go but agreed because she
respected him. Whether they ironed it out or not, he
doesn’t appreciate his mother going behind his back to
raise opinions about his partner. Yes, partner. This will
make him not trust his family with Nale in the future,
which is the last thing he wants. He doesn’t want Nale to
only visit his biological mother’s house, in his heart both
his biological mother and stepmother are equal. It needs
to be addressed.

But he chose to see his estranged uncle first. He’s come

right to his house after dinner with Nale. He needs to
find out why they have so many secrets in this family.
Him and MaMkhwanazi ex lovers, really?
He calls and asks his uncle to open the gate. He doesn’t
come here, not unless there’s really a need to. Unlike
Msindisi who has no relationship at all with their uncle,
he just doesn’t get along with him but they have each
other’s contacts and talk here and there.

Xolani already has a drink in his hand. It’s hardly ever

good news when his nephew just shows up. Nzalo walks
right up until he’s in front of the door, then they
exchange formal greetings.
“You should’ve told me that you’re coming, I would’ve
told Joy to cook something,” he says.
“Ay babomncane, are you trying to tell me that there’s
no food here?” Nzalo follows him inside. He’s not really
hungry, just keeping the conversation going.
“I have frozen meals,” he says.
“Maybe you need to get married because Aunt Joy can’t
cook for you forever and eating out everyday is not
healthy,” – Nzalo.
“Soon boy,” he says.
Nzalo clears his throat, “Speaking about marriage
related matters, babomncane I’m here to complain
again.”
He pours a shot of whisky and passes it to Nzalo. “This
is the coffee of this house.”
“No thanks, I will pass.” Nzalo’s eyes squint as he looks
at the bottle his uncle is sealing back. “Balvenie?
Babomncane are you that financially free that you’d
spend half hundred grands on a bottle?”
“It was a gift from a colleague. You’re not here to
complain about my whisky, right?” He pulls the chair and
sits, wearing an inquisitive look on his face.
Nzalo does the same; he sits. “No, I’m not here for
whisky.”
“Let’s hear what you are here to grieve about then,” he
says.
“You dated my mother?” Nzalo asks.
He takes a deep breath and nods, “Yeah, before
Sbusiso.”
“How did that happen?” – Nzalo.
“We were together for a long time. Planned our future
together, hustled together and loved each other. Or so I
thought, then life happened,” he says.
“Why did you break up?” Nzalo.
“We didn’t,” he breaks a chuckle. “She moved on, I got
aware of it coming back from the workshop I had
attended in Joburg. She moved on to your father.”
“Did dad know about your relationship?”
“He did,” he says.
“Oh!” That shot he refused…he needs it.
He reaches for it in front of his uncle and gulps it down.

All along he thought their rivalry was caused by the

inheritance that his father solely took. But no, his
beloved stepmother was in the middle of it. “Did you
abuse her?”
“Do you think I did?” Xolani asks.
“No,” he says.
That’s all he needs, MaMkhwanazi can say whatever
she wants as long as people still believe in the man that
he is without a shade of doubt.
“Was the Hadebe Freights your idea?” Nzalo asks.
“Your father was never into transportation and
warehousing. But I’m over it, he did a good thing by
equally dividing his estate between all his children, at
least you and your siblings don’t have yogo through
what him and I went through,” he says.
“Yeah but I want you to backtrack a bit. Did ncane
backstab you?”
Xolani laughs, “Stabbed in the back? No, she ruined my
life.”
“I didn’t know that.” He feels guilty, at the end of the day
this is his uncle and the only male figure they have in the
family. Despite how broken their relationship is, he will
handle their marriage matters in the future and conduct
all the ceremonies they need to have in the family.
“I feel like we need to have a family meeting and just lay
everything in the open because I end up caught in
between your feuds, not even knowing what they’re truly
about. You can say what you want for compensation, I
will make it happen.”
Xolani looks at him for a solid minute, his eyes tensely
on his face that almost looks like his. “You will make it
happen?” he asks.
“Yeah…do you want shares?” Nzalo.
“I want Phindile Mkhwanazi out of your lives,” he says.
“You’re kidding, right?”- Nzalo.
He chuckles, then pulls a straight face. “No, I’m not.”
“She’s our mother, where do you expect her to go?”
“To hell where she belongs,” he says.
“I’m talking about making peace babomncane, you’re
taking things too far. Are you going to come to the
meeting if I arrange one?”
“Yes, I will come with Nokuzola,” he says.
Nzalo finally smiles. His uncle is something else, he still
can’t wrap his head around their relationship.
“Awusho babomncane, what do you think you’re doing?
Zola is even younger than me, your old brother’s first
born,” he asks.
“Love knows no age,” Xolani says.
“But people know age, and you’re old. What if I need
you to go and represent me to the Thabethes in future?
You won’t go because you’re their son-in-law as well?”
“Your jokes are not funny. Text me with your meeting
details early and make sure your mother behaves
herself,” he says.
“No problem. I have to get going.” Nzalo stands up,
Xolani walks him out of the door and they bid goodbye.

Maybe this is the first time in over two years that they
talk and separate without exchanging any harsh words.
Nzalo is overprotective of MaMkhwanazi, that’s one
thing he learned to understand and live with. Telling
them that MaMkhwanazi might have been behind their
biological mother’s death will shatter their world, but
when the time comes, he will do it. MaMkhwanazi knows
that he’s got people investigating Mazwi’s family, but
what she doesn’t know is that one of his people have
befriended the fiance. The closer she gets to the fiance
the better, she will loosen up and let her in on everything
that’s happening in her and daughter’s life.
-
-
-
Nzalo’s next stop is home. It’s after dinner, Msindisi and
MaMkhwanazi are watching TV. They didn’t expect him
to pass by so late. He hugs MaMkhwanazi and kisses
her cheek, as usual. Then he pushes Msindisi’s
shoulder and sits next to him.
“Why are you here?” Msindisi asks.
“I’m in my parents’ house, I don’t need a reason,” he
says.
“We don’t have relationship advices.” Msindisi stands up
and goes to his room. He knows that whatever Nzalo
came for, it doesn’t concern him.

“Should I dish for you?” MaMkhwanazi asks.

“No, I already had dinner,” Nzalo says.
“Okay. You don’t look okay, what’s wrong?”
“What did you say to Nale?” he asks.
“We talked about a lot of things. Care to be specific?”
“About babomncane?”
MaMkhwanazi puts religion aside and curses. “Fuck! Did
she come to you with everything?”
“No but I found out because there was a major drift
between her and her cousin. I’m not saying you’re lying,
nevertheless I wouldn’t expect you to open up to
Nalenhle about such thing. Given the fact that I told you
about it and shared all my fears.” He doesn’t want Nale
triggered. Hell, he hasn’t even attempted any sexual
advances on her because he’s still not sure how to
navigate his way around the issue. He doesn’t know
how she feels or reacts to sex.
“I know but in that moment I needed to shed some light
about my situation with your uncle,” MaMkhwanazi says.
“To Nalenhle, ncane? As your kids we know nothing
about the situation but you’re determined to shed light to
Nale, someone you’ve only talked to once?”
MaMkhwanazi takes a deep breath, looking remorseful.
“I shouldn’t have, I just felt cornered and ashamed of
myself. I didn’t want anyone to find out about Xolani and
I. It puts me in a bad light, like I jumped from Xolani to
his brother.”
“But isn’t that what you did?” Nzalo.
Her eyes widen. “No. I had no control over anything that
happened.”
“Ncane be honest. Whose idea was it to start the
Hadebe Freights?”
“Come on now, how would I know who first thought
about logistics business in this wide world?”
“I mean in the family,” he says.
“They both came up with the idea, on different times.
The difference was that your father already had the
empty emporium, he turned it over for a warehousing
business. And he had funds to put in the business. On
the other hand your uncle just had a lousy idea that he
scribbled down in the backroom he was renting.”
“He claims that everything was his idea and you took it
to my father, started Hadebe Freights and robbed him of
his dreams,” Nzalo says.
“That’s a lie. Nothing is stopping him from starting a
similar company, instead he’s opening strip clubs and
taverns. Is that still my fault?” She’s getting worked up.
“No, but you have to take some sort of responsibility. We
can’t afford to be divided like this. We only have him
now. In a year or so, we will need him to conduct dad’s
ceremonies,” Nzalo says.
“I’m not going to kiss his whatever just because my
husband is dead. If we stole his ideas why wasn’t this
issue raised when your father was still alive? Is it
because I’m a widow now, I can’t fight for myself? Is that
why my name is being tarnished?” Tears flow down.
Nzalo gets up and goes to sit next to her. He didn’t
mean to make her cry.
“That’s not what I’m doing, neither is it what he’s doing. I
think this whole thing has gotten out of hand, that’s why
we must sit down as a family and talk. Do you agree?”
“If it’s going to get everyone off my back, yes,” she says.
He sighs with relief, still rubbing her back as more tears
flow down.
“Is tomorrow okay?” he asks.
MaMkhwanazi nods. She sniffs some more, this feels
like an attack. Nzalo shouldn’t have held this
conversation with Xolani in the first place. Now ‘they’
have painted her as a loose woman to her children.
“I will apologize to Nale. Will she come to the meeting?”
she asks.
Nzalo chuckles, “It’s a family meeting, we only became
official boyfriend and girlfriend today.”
“Well, next time I see her,” she says.
“Umh, I don’t know ncane. I think I will keep her away
until I, myself, have known her in depths,” Nzalo says.
“Just because I told her about being raped? Her mother
was also a victim, I thought she’d relate to me better
than anyone,” she says.
“I’m not saying your case is not serious, but Nale’s
mother has disabilities. Nale doesn’t even know her
father, it’s a different case that I doubt your story even
come close to. So I will respectfully ask you to never talk
about it to her again. You can afford therapy, if you need
to talk to someone book a session.”
She’s shocked. Now Xolani has started turning her kids
against her. Or is it that young girl he is now seeing that
makes him think he can reclaim this family and get rid of
her?
She swallows a lump on her throat and nods uneasily.
“Okay.”
“Thanks for understanding. I will see you tomorrow,
goodnight.” He kisses her cheek and walks out.

She switches the TV off and goes to her bedroom. Her

heart is sore but she has to prepare for tomorrow either
way. She locks the door and empties a bottle of water.
Tomorrow’s dinner needs some fresh tears. She gets a
clean soap container, it’s wide enough for her to use as
she cries. She drops her tears in the container and then
pours them in the bottle. They’re not enough, even
though she no longer feels like crying, she needs to
keep them coming. So she goes to YouTube and
watches random people’s funerals and cries among
mourners. She needs at least a quarter of the bottle in
order to mix with her stew for tomorrow. Nobody is going
to touch her crown.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 21

His secret agent, Robyn, asked that they meet up

urgently. Today he’s got a lot on his plate and would
have preferred to stick to his schedule. But nothing ever
goes his way, now he’s driving to X-Lifestyle for this
unplanned meeting. There must be an update, an
important one, for her to just disrupt his day like this. He
paid her to take the fiance on a girl’s trip for them to
know each other better.

Zola doesn’t have all the details about how far they’ve
gone with this. He pulls up and heads straight to the
private lounge before calling the club manager, telling
him to grant her access to the lounge. He’s known
Robyn for a long time, they’ve worked on other projects
before, professionally. But their relationship didn’t end
there, they have explored certain areas privately too.
He’s not into her, it was all casual and consensually no-
string attached thing. She is undeniable a beautiful
woman, very stylish and confident. It wouldn’t surprise
him if she’s already best friends with the fiance. Robyn
goes for what she wants and gets it.
“X-man,” she says, strutting in her heels.
“I hope this is important,” he says and helps her sit
down.

One of his staff members walks in with two drinks. Just

what both of them needed. They thank her, she leaves.
Robyn sits with her legs crossed.
“Robyn!” he doesn’t have a whole day.
“Wait, let me sip first. You will also need a drink after I
show you this.” She’s wasting his time, which is always
precious. But he waits, he sips her wine and then
carefully reapplies her lipstick.
“MaMkhwanazi is not sponsoring their lifestyle or giving
them anything at all,” finally saying something that
matters.
But he’s confused. “So you brought me all the way here
to tell me that I’ve been wasting my time?”
He wanted MaMkhwanazi involved, he couldn’t wait to
get rid of her. How come she is innocent? He literally
has pictures of her eating out with Mazwi’s fiance.
“Wasting your time? No darling.” She takes out her
phone and scrolls down on it with her manicured fingers.
She’s wearing a proud smile on her face.
“Guess who?” She gives him the phone.
He’s looking at the screenshot taken during a video call.
It’s the fiance on a video call with a man, not
MaMkhwanazi. How does this help him?
“And this?” he asks.
“This is the dead man on a video call, possibly calling
from heaven,” Robyn says.
No, it can’t be. He snatches the phone back and looks at
the picture again.
He stands up, WTF.
Mazwi is alive? Then who died in the cell? That person
was confirmed as Mazwi.
“He’s been taking care of his family,” Robyn says.
“What the hell?” He still can’t believe it.
All these years they’ve been lied to. Not only by Mazwi’s
family, but the police and prison wardens too.
“Now if Mazwi has a criminal record and a death
certificate that was issued, how does he afford to take
care of his family and sustain a living wherever he is?”
Robyn asks.
They’re all valid questions but his head is spinning right
now, he can’t think.
“Thank you for bringing this,” he says, still looking at the
picture.
Robyn smiles with pride. She’s done an excellent job,
it’s more than what anyone expected, hopefully her
check will match up.
“Do you need help de-stressing?” She stands up and
takes a step closer to him.
“Not today Robyn,” he stops her.
She smiles, “Okay no problem. Can I have my phone? I
sent this on your Whatsapp.”
He gives it back and then wipes a droplet of swear
running down his temple.
Robyn turns and walks away. “I expect a ping-ping
before I go to bed.”
The money he paid for the trip will never be refunded,
but he doesn’t mind. He’s got a big investigation to
embark on. It’s time to get real private investigating
experts now. He’s not just dealing with MaMkhwanazi
alone, a lot more people were paid for this. It’s going to
be bad, really bad. People’s lives will turn upside down,
especially Thobile’s children’s lives.
He sends Zola a text: I NEED YOU
-
-
-

He went on with his day even though his brain wasn’t as

productive. Zola read his text and didn’t reply, he took
that as a sign that she’s busy. It’s Friday today, hopefully
tomorrow they will have some time together. He’s going
home to take a shower and then head to his brother’s
house, to have that family meeting with the family. He
will be alone since Zola can’t come. All he wants is just
for it to be over and done with. He will let MaMkhwanazi
think he’s let everything go so that she will put her guard
down. All along she’s known that Thobile’s killer is alive,
she’s been looking at her children in the eyes and crying
with them as if she cares about their mother’s justice. It’s
going to be very sweet watching her go to jail, not only
that but her seeing the children she’s claimed as her
own look at her with hatred. Knowing how Nzalo is, her
life will be a living hell once the truth comes out.

He’s driving towards his gate, then he sees Zola parked

right outside. Only God knows how long she’s been
here. Maybe since he sent her the text. He opens the
gate and they both drive in. He didn’t expect her to show
up, when he said he needed her he expected a comfort
call.
“Are you okay?” She’s coming out of the car.
She loves her lengthy dresses and flat sandals. For sure
he needs to take her to the salon soon.
“Xolani!” her voice raises as she taps her hand twice on
his arm.
He smiles, “I’m fine makoti. What are you doing here?”
“It sounded like you need me,” she’s blushing.
“Well, I didn’t mean to disturb you from your day. I only
needed a phone call but I’m happy to see you.” He holds
her hand and they go inside the house.
He takes his jacket off and sits. Zola gets a juice from
the fridge and pours two glasses. Then they sit on the
couch, she’s looking at him curiously. Coming here she
thought something bad had happened to him.
“Mazwi is alive,” he says.
“Mazwi the killer?” She’s confused.
“Yeah, he never died,” he says.
“That’s so twisted and dangerous. Who did they bury?
How did he escape and where has he been living all this
time?”
“I will find out soon,” he promises.
Zola takes a deep breath, this is not easy to digest.
“How do you feel about this whole thing?”
“It’s going to ruin Thobile’s children’s lives forever,” he
says.
“Definitely. When are you going to tell Msindisi and
Nzalo?”
“Once I catch him,” he says.
“Do you think you will? He’s obviously working with
masterminds.”
“I will,” he says without any doubt. No matter who’s
sitting at the top holding the ropes, he will climb and get
there. Mazwi will face the law, together with
MaMkhwanazi.
“Do you think your brother was involved?” Zola asks.
“Sbusiso? No.” They didn’t get along, but no.
He wouldn’t have organized to kill his own wife, they had
children together.
Zola gives him a look but chooses not to push it any
further. He’s a level headed man, when he’s alone in his
room he will think about it.
“You have a meeting to attend, right?” she asks.
“Yeah, but…” He looks at her.
Zola raises her eyebrow. “What?”
“Didn’t you miss me?” he asks.
She smiles, relieved to see his playful face on. She
comes and sits on his lap, then gives him a kiss that
he’s pulling a face for. His arm wraps around her waist,
he’s really missed her. Coming home to her is the best
thing that has happened to him today.
“Why are you always hiding your body?” His hand
sneaks under her dress, running up to her knee.
“Do you want me to go around in crop tops and shorts?”
she asks.
“Not necessarily, but don’t hide your body from me. I
want to see it.” He inhales sharply, pushing his hand up
to her thighs. “Don’t hide this beautiful body from me,
please.”
“I’m not,” she says in no firm protest to what his hand is
doing.
It’s on her panty, looking for a way to slide in and touch
her cookie. His eyes are on her, reading all her
reactions. She’s calm as he touches her. He’s been
patient but there’s only so much a man can keep his zip
close for.
“Your body is warm,” he comments.
Zola shyly drops her eyes. This is unplanned but she
mentally prepared herself for this occurrence a week
back. His eyes are full of lust and hunger.
“Your love scares me, Nokuzola,” he says.
“How?” Her voice comes out as a low, shaky whisper.
“I’m not used to it. I’m used to 50/50 transactions; giving
what I have for what I don’t have. Waking up to sweet
messages and having someone look out for me the way
you do, scares me. Sometimes I read your messages
and feel my heart pounding heavily. Ungenz’ umuntu
and that makes me scared because I don’t ever want to
lose it.”
“You won’t lose me,” she says and kisses him on the
forehead.
Always assuring him; he finds himself blushing like her.
“I love you,” he says.
Now it’s her turn to blush.
“And I want you…I want this.” He brushes over her
mound. He’s been wanting this for so long. “I know that I
haven’t earned any right to be between your legs, but
you know I’m not going anywhere, you can trust me with
your body.”
“I trust you,” she says.
This feels like a dream come true. He turns and puts her
on the couch, then gets on top of her, kissing her like the
world is about to shut down.
He pulls away, breathing hard and throbbing hard
between his legs. He looks at her, cherishing her natural
beauty. “Are you really mine?”
Zola smiles, “Yeah.”
He lifts her dress up to her hips and pulls down her
panty. Is she really his? He kisses her shaved cookie
and then lifts the dress further up so he can kiss her
navel as well. His connection to her is insane. His whole
body is warm, his fingers are shaky.
“You have such a beautiful body!” He wants everything
out. He wants to see her in full nakedness. He wants to
see all her perfections and imperfections.
“Get a condom,” she says as he unfastens his belt.
“You don’t trust me one bit.” He chuckles and kisses her
lips before disappearing to the bathroom.
He comes back with condoms and puts them on the
side. He’s been deprived of this body for so long, he has
to give himself time and appreciate the art in front of
him.
“You and I…” he kisses both her firm boobs. “… are
going to spend the evening in our bedroom,” he says.
“What about the family meeting?” she asks.
“This is an important meeting; Hadebe meeting his
precious diamond for the first time.” He leans down to it
and kisses her on top of her thick, bald lips. There’s no
meeting more important than this one. Nzalo will
postpone and choose another day.
-
-
-

MaMkhwanazi defrosted the meat a long time ago.

Msindisi wasn’t that surprised that she chose to be
hands-on in the kitchen, his mother likes showing off. It’s
just a family meeting with Xolani but she will exaggerate
everything and even take out her new set of dishes.
She’s done peeling all the vegetables, now about to
check if her bread is steaming well.
Msindisi walks in, “Can I borrow your laptop?”
“Yeah, go to my bedroom,” she waves him away.
She’s cooking a feast nobody can say no to. Maybe
after this everyone will close the Thobile chapter. Can’t
she die and rest in peace like everyone? Why is she still
the main character? She’s not the only mother who died
that year. Her kids have forgotten about her. All Xolani
has to do is to keep his mouth shut.
Msindisi gets in her bedroom and looks around for the
laptop. But his eyes catch a stink bug on the carpet. It
probably came from the garden. There’s no pesticide in
sight, only a bottle of water. There’s nothing much inside
but a few drops of water will keep it in place for a minute
while he gets a broom.
MaMkhwanazi walks in, she almost faints at the door. Is
that… her tears?!
“Msi…ndisi!” she can’t breathe.
Msindi looks at her, “Get a broom ncane, it’s a bug.”
“My tears!”
“Huh?”
She’s pointing at the carpet. Msindisi is confused.
“I cried so much and you just….” She stops before it
slips out. She cried for nothing, Msindisi has poured all
her hardwork on a stupid bug. The biggest bug is his
uncle.
“Ncane are you alright?” he asks.
She takes a deep breath, “Yes. Is it dead?”
“Not yet, but it’s just a bug ncane, it has no gun.”
Msindisi laughs, thinking she got a fright.
She fakes a smile. This meeting is now useless, maybe
she should call Nzalo and say she’s sick.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 22
NALENHLE

Zola left yesterday and didn’t come back. She didn’t

even notify me, I had to see her active Whatsapp status
to know that she wasn’t kidnapped. I wake up today later
than usual, she’s back. She is sleeping on the couch
with her sandals on. If she was a drunk I would’ve
assumed she drank too much and she’s hung over. But
she doesn’t drink, clearly her lack of sleep was caused
by Mr X himself.
“Hello!” I shake her shoulder.
It has to be twice and aggressive before she opens her
eyes.
“It’s Sunday,” I say.
“Mmmm, I’m tired.” She attempts closing her eyes
again.This is why sex before marriage is forbidden.
“We have to go shopping, Thami’s birthday is next
Friday and we can’t get everything last minute,” I say.
“Yoh, it’s Sunday today?” She rubs her eyes, grunting
with frustration.
“Yes and it’s already 9am, if we go late it will be too
crowded and you know I have social anxiety.”
She frowns, “Since when?”
“It doesn’t matter, get up.”
She gets up and stretches herself. You can tell from her
eyes that she’s exhausted.
“You didn’t tell me that you will sleep out,” I say.
“It just happened, I didn’t plan it,” she says.
“You could’ve at least texted me when he requested
another round. I could’ve gone to the police and said
you were missing,” I say.
Instead of showing remorse she starts smiling. “Should I
start wearing revealing clothes? Not so much, just a bit.
Maybe show some cleavage and legs.”
“Why would you do that?” I’m confused.
“Because I have a man who likes my body.”
“So you want to advertise it?” I ask.
“Nale, you wear dresses that show your bums when you
bend. I don’t expect criticism from you, the village Miley
Cyrus,” she says.
Now this is my problem, you don’t ask me for advice
when you’ve already decided what you’re going to do.
And I’m not the village Miley Cyrus, Miley Cyrus is the
city Nalenhle.
“It’s not who you are. Did Mr X ask you to reveal your
body?” I’m uncomfortable with this.
“Not really but I know that’s what he wants. He liked it
when I wore the mini dress he bought me the other day,”
she says.
“I don’t understand why he wants you to go around
showing your body, it’s not who you are. If he doesn’t
want a girl that dresses up the way you do, then he
should get one that meets his requirements.”
“Yeah, yeah. I knew that what you’d say. It’s all coming
from a place of not liking him,” she says.
“That’s not true.” At least 60% of it is not.
My feelings about him probably influenced my opinion a
bit, but it’s still valid with or without my personal stand
point. Why must she change herself to please him?
“Every woman out there does things here and there to
impress their men. You also went to a homeless shelter
and played Mother Teresa to please Nzalo’s mother’s
ghost,” she says.
I can’t help it, I laugh. She’s so evil for using that against
me, I wasn’t even doing it for the ghost. Well, not
entirely.
“That’s a different scenario, you want to change your
whole wardrobe for a man who found you with 32 teeth,”
I say.
“I haven’t grown all my four wisdom teeth yet, they’re still
30,” she says.
“At 29? They will never grow, that’s why you’re not wise.
All my wisdom teeth grew before I turned 25.” Maybe
that’s why I’m this wise and not changing my wardrobe
for a man.
“I think Xolani is spoiling me and ruining me so that even
if I break up with him, I won’t be able to move on. The
standard he’s setting is too high,” she vaunts.
“Really?” I’m surprised to see her singing men praises.
Usually it’s me in her position and she always advises
me not to trust men too much.
She sits, facing me. Her skin is glowing better than other
days. “Do you think I can be able to date a man who
doesn’t give me a car, send me lunch everyday and
make me cum with his tongue.”
“What???” My God-fearing self can’t listen to this.
“Mzala if I knew everything he’s capable of doing to my
body, I would’ve gotten naked for him after our first date.
I have robbed myself of nice things for what? For what
mzala?”
“Don’t you fear God?” I’m traumatized.
She laughs out loud. “God will understand. I’m so in love
with that man, yoh.”
She covers her eyes, giggling. Then opens them, “Can
you guess how much he sent me in the morning to fill up
the car and buy myself a snack on the way?”
“He gave you money again?” God help us all. My cousin
is really not herself. Maybe she’s right about Mr X
ruining her for other men. In less than three months she
will be depending on him, asking him what she should
wear and eat.
“And he took care of rent, so you will give your half for
me,” she says.
“No, I’m not going to do that.” Is she crazy?
Mr X was obviously sent by God to take care of our rent.
If he only wanted to pay her half he would’ve done so.
I’m not paying Zola a cent.
“But he’s my man,” she says.
“So what? I’m your cousin, I’m keeping your secrets.
Malume doesn’t know that you’re now sleeping over a
man’s place and driving his car.”
“Whatever! I have to go and take a bath, make me
something to eat.”
Mr X is ruining her. Now she thinks I’m going to be her
cook because he paid our rent.
-
-
-

We both agreed to equally contribute towards Thami’s

birthday. He doesn’t know that he’s having a party, it’s a
surprise. But Zola is suddenly more monied than I am, in
some shops I do take a step back and let her pay. It’s
my way of respecting her. We don’t know what Thami
wants for his birthday, we are just going with our hearts.
He’s a teenage boy, obviously he’d want sneakers and
headphones as a gift, all teenagers want that.
We sit down to eat at Steak House. I generously choose
my meal, knowing she’s going to take care of the bill, if
not she will call Mr X to come and pay. Do I like him
now? I have my reservations and I will be watching him.

My phone rings, our food hasn’t arrived yet. It’s Nzalo, I

step out to take the call because it’s a bit noisy inside.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in town with Zola doing some shopping.”
“I need to see you, send location.”
I’m a bit worried, this is unlike him even though he likes
being around me a lot. I send him the location and return
inside.
“Nzalo is coming here,” I tell Zola.
“Oh good, he’s going to pay the bill.” She picks the
menu again.
“Excuse me?” I can’t believe she wants to order more
food. Didn’t Nzalo lose his father not so long ago? What
happened to humanity?
“He will pay, or you will pay?”
Me? “Of course not.”
I can’t even enjoy my meal because I don’t know what
he wants to see me for. I last saw him two days ago and
he was going to talk to Mr X about his shenanigans. He
finally walks in, becoming the most outstanding man in
the room. Not because of height, but his presence is
hard to not to feel. Not just by me, almost everyone
turns and looks when he passes their table.
“Hello girls,” he greets.
It doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with him. He
kisses my cheek and allocates himself a chair…and my
drink.
“Why are you drinking beer?” he asks, putting it down
.
“It’s a cider, not a beer,” I say.
“Same thing, it’s alcohol.” He’s trying to pull a Mr X on
me; telling me what to do.
I drink, his uncle and I met in a pub for crying out loud.
“Your man didn’t show up,” he says to Zola.
“Sorry about that,” she says.
“So it was you who kept him busy?”
“I tried telling him to come but he chose not to listen. Are
you going to reschedule?”
“Yeah but not this week because I have to quickly go to
Botswana,” he says.
I’m shocked and hurt at the same time. This is my first
time hearing that he’s going somewhere this week, to
another country at that. This is exactly why I didn’t want
to invest my emotions in this relationship.
“That’s why I’m here,” he says to me.
I don’t say anything. I have nothing to say.
“My flight is booked for tomorrow morning 11:20am,” he
says.
“Okay.” I just want to go home.
Zola knows me, she can see that I’m not okay.
“Let’s eat and go,” she says.
Nzalo gets his own meal, we are in this place longer
than I would’ve wanted to. So I decided to go and wait in
the car, leaving the bill between the two of them, aunt
and nephew.

I don’t see Nzalo necessarily everyday but him going to

another country leaves me to my reality. And my reality
is not something I want to live. Being with him gives me
a chance to focus on our relationship. I haven’t thought
about my father in so long. My mom’s condition didn’t
bother me for a while. I tend to overthink a lot,
wondering what would happen if one day my aunt
leaves this world. How will I live my life and take care of
her? My father, what if his name is Hadebe? Not
knowing who he is makes my life difficult. I can build my
happiness on something only for his identity to destroy
everything, if I ever discover it.
Zola comes to the car with take-aways of our left-overs.
“Nzalo paid,” she says.
“Where is he? Still eating?”
“No, I told him to stay behind so that we can talk. What’s
making you angry? He’s not going on vacation, he’s
going to work.”
“I’m not angry, he should go,” I say.
“Are you scared of being alone?”
“No,” I say.
“I think you are. But it’s really unfair on him, now he’s
worried because you left on a verge of tears. Maybe you
need to find another way to deal with the situation than
using your relationships as a shield. He’s only going
away for a week and coming back.”
“I’m just so used to having him around. I don’t know
what I’m going to do. I’m already feeling lost. He’s not
even going to another city, but another country. That’s
why I didn’t want to be too invested.”
“Exactly why I’m saying it’s unfair on him. You’ve dated
assholes in the past and given them your whole heart
and kidneys. Obviously he likes you and he cares a lot,
but putting your happiness entirely on him and his
physical presence is unfair. You can’t pour from an
empty cup.”
“I’m not forcing him to do anything.” I wasn’t crying but
now I am, because she’s making this situation
something that it’s not.
“Come on, you need to at least take this week that he’s
away for self-care. I know it’s hard because you can’t
even have a conversation with aunty, one parent that
you have and would like to have a word with. But you
can’t change anything about that, so you have to find a
way to work around it.”
“Work around it, kanjani Zola? This is not even a matter
of having a father, but knowing the truth so that I can
know who I am. And I don’t feel like I have been told the
whole truth.”
She frowns, “What do you mean?”
“My mom has never been independent. Rape isn’t like
stealing where you go inside the house, take something
and run away. She was home when it happened. How
come they don’t even have one suspect?” I have never
said this to anyone. I have asked myself these questions
in private because I don’t ever want it to sound like I’m
blaming my uncle or assuming things.
“But if dad knew why would he hide it from you? This
has affected you right in front of his eyes. You’ve seen
him going through different emotions and stressing over
your well being.” She’s defending her father, which is
something I already knew she’d do, as well as anyone
who’d hear me asking these questions.
“My life will never go anywhere!” It’s been 26 years, I
have been waiting for someone to come and say he’s
my father. It was someone they knew, surely he heard
about the pregnancy and maybe he’s seen me grow.
Why is he not coming forward? Yes, he will be arrested
but I will have closure. He at least owes me that;
closure.
“Maybe try and see a pyschologist,” Zola says.
“I don’t have mental problems Zola, it won’t fix my
problems.” I don’t need to sit with a professional, I need
my uncle to start going down the memory lane and tell
me who they hosted at home before my grandmother
found out that my mother was pregnant. I will go to each
person and demand a DNA test.
“I know it won’t but do it to fix your relationship,” she
says.
“My relationship is fine,” I say.
“Is it? Are you going to actually talk to Nzalo and wish
him a good flight tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Okay, let me call him.”
I do feel like a piece of work right now. Zola being here
means so much to me at the moment because a lot
could’ve gone wrong.

Nzalo comes, I get out of the car so that we can have a

private conversation. I’m still not okay with him leaving
but as Zola said, if you can’t change the situation find a
way to work around it.
“I knew you weren’t going to be happy, that's why I didn't
want to tell you on the phone but I’m hurt,” he says.
“Sorry I walked out,” I say.
“I had someone going there on my behalf but sadly he
had a family emergency. Msindisi can’t go, I have to do it
myself. It’s only a week and we’ll video-call.”
“It’s really fine Nzalo. I have lived without you for 26
years,” I say.
“You’re making it sound like we are breaking up.” He
pulls me for a forehead kiss and then holds my hand.
“I’m really sorry. Do you want me to leave the house
keys with you?”
“For what?” I ask.
“I don’t know, if you happen to want to go there. You
love my mother’s house, don’t you?”
Life is really a tree, because why on earth is he giving
me his mother’s old house’s keys and not his car keys?
Doesn’t he take notes from his uncle?
“Yeah, I will go there and clean,” I say.
He smiles, it really went above his head. I was trying to
mock him.
He gives me the house keys and another kiss. “I love
you Nalenhle. I haven’t figured everything out yet but I
know that I’m going to stick by your side. Now I know
you hate feeling alone, so next time I have a trip we’ll
plan in advance and go together. Okay?”
I work, it might be impossible but I appreciate him for
considering it. Now I have to give him a smile and wish
him a good trip. But I know I’m about to sink back into
darkness, a week is a very long time.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 23
ZOLA

I had given up on having a sibling when Thami came. I

was already in high school, doing Grade 8. Then one
day I just came home and my mother told me she was
having another baby. It was something we had all
wanted and prayed about, but at that point I had
become a teenager and I didn’t want to have a pregnant
mother. I was embarrassed, I knew that my parents
were having sex and that irked me. But today that baby
is 16 and I couldn’t have asked for a better sibling.

Nale and I arrived late yesterday, he was already in his

room asleep. Xolani brought us, I couldn’t come home
driving his car because my dad is not that kind of man,
he wasn’t going to let me park a man’s car in his yard.
But he would’ve excused it if it was Nale. She gets a lot
of passes that I don’t. MaMkhwanazi knew what she
was doing when she talked to Nale about rape, that
planted a permanent seed of doubt in Nale’s head. It
was awkward having both of them in the car but we got
home safely.

I’m not a kitchen person by nature. I’d rather eat bread

and take-aways than to cook. But today is a big day, I
woke up first and came to the kitchen to make breakfast.
I’m making the mother of all breakfasts that have ever
happened in this village.
My dad walks in, my main man.
“Hello dad,” I greet.
“Saze sabusiswa bo! Thami should have birthdays
everyday so that we can get this soft treatment.” He
teases, looking at the mess I’ve made in the kitchen.
“I didn’t see him last night, he needs to wake up and go
invite his friends for the party,” I say.
“Did you talk to him about the party? I thought it would
be a private thing because you know how your brother is
like when it comes to social settings,” he says.
Nale is just walking in. “What is going to be private?”
“We are talking about Thami’s party,” dad says.
“But it can’t be private. We have spent so much, getting
décor material and food. People have to come and see
what we did,” she says.
Dad laughs, “You will hear from him.”
He goes and wakes Thami up from his room.
“He can’t do us dirty like that,” Nale says.
Funnily, I agree with her. It’s more than Thami’s day, we
wanted to put on a show. The first biggest Sweet 16 in
the village. This boy can’t disappoint us.
He comes, his eyes on the phone. He’s been awake but
hiding in his room.
Nale starts singing, I join in;
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!”
He buries his face on the wall as we sing. I think it’s
happiness, he didn’t expect this, plus Nale has a good
voice. She’s hitting Beyonce high notes, even neighbors
can hear where they are.
“Thanks bosisi bami, but that was loud,” he says.
“Well, it’s about to get even louder. You have to invite
your friends for your party, it’s your Sweet 16. Ma will
take care of adults invites. 1pm sharp, we start,” I say.
“I have a soccer game at 1pm,” he says.
“No, you’re having a birthday party. Nale and I had your
cake custom made by an expensive baker. We have the
décor, we are going to cook seven colors…”
“Eight,” Nale interjects.
“Right, we will cook eight colors. Have dad in a costume
dancing, Nale is the MC and a musician for the day.” It’s
going to be fun, we planned everything perfectly.
“It does sound like you guys will be having a good time. I
won’t be here, one I don’t like birthday parties, two my
friends are doing this soccer game to celebrate me.”
Wow, what an ungrateful rat!
“So your friends are more important than us?” I ask.
“No, but what’s more important is me enjoying my
birthday, right? Not my sisters having fun and proving a
point to their childhood enemies?”
I look at Nale, why is she quiet and not backing me up?
“But we can’t have pictures of your party without you,” I
say.
“We can have pictures as a family. I’m not going to be
here for the party but I do appreciate you doing this for
me. I’m blessed to have sisters like you.”
This is a disaster. Dad was right, we should’ve asked
him before planning.
“Are you at least going to see your gifts? I bought you
sneakers, R1.8k cash,” Nale.
He smiles, “Really?”
“Let me get them,” Nale.
I give up. I think we should save our food and have a
private thing when he comes back from his soccer game
as dad said. I respect teenagers of this century, in my
time I would’ve done absolutely anything and everything
to have a surprise party thrown for me. I remember
when I turned 16 coming home from school, tiptoeing so
that I didn’t ruin my surprise birthday. Only to find my
mother cooking ujeqe. For Nale’s 16th birthday we had
to run all over the yard chasing a chicken that had no
will of dying and leaving its family behind.
-
-
-

NALENHLE

Some days are better than others. I really miss Nzalo,

for the first time in my life a week feels like 10 years.
Today I’m in the village, my signal won’t allow me to
have a video call with him. I have been obsessing over
Zola and Mr X’s relationship, saying she will depend on
him if she lets him take over her life like this. But that
was just an objection, I still have a freedom to do
anything that I want but I’m empty when I have no one
but myself. I don’t have inner peace, there’s no joy in my
heart. All the happiness that I’ve amassed in life has
been dependent on other people, even before Nzalo. I
have never been happy because I made myself happy. I
rely on other people to make me feel happy.

I have so much to say to my uncle. I’ve had so much for

a very long time but I’ve been scared. I know how much
he goes out of his way for me and I can never doubt his
love for me and my mother. I don’t ever want him to feel
like he hasn’t done enough, because he has done more
than enough for his sister and I. But for me to be at
peace I have to ask all the questions that I have. My
aunt wasn’t here when it all happened, I can’t say
anything to her.
I leave them inside cooking lunch with Zola. It’s a family
lunch, Thami ruined all our plans. But for once Zola is
taking care of the kitchen, voluntarily and happily. My
uncle is sitting in front of the rondavel grinding
something in the pot. I hope it’s not another mixture to
make Zola and I get along. We’ve worked around our
issues…okay, I’m lying. But we always find our way
back to each other.
“Shano why do you look so sad? Is it about Thami
turning down the birthday party idea?” he asks.
“Not really.” I pull my dress and sit on the grass.
I want to have real talk with him and I know it will be
uncomfortable for both of us.
“Okay, talk to your uncle,” he says, pushing the pot
aside.
“I’m dating someone.” I’m not allowed to talk to my own
uncle about boys. He hates boys topics but I’m a known
rebel, he knows that I always throw a challenge or two
on his way.
“Why?” he asks.
I laugh because at my age aunty already had Zola.
“We like each other but I don’t know if him and I might
be related,” I say.
He heaves a deep sigh. “What’s his surname?”
“Hadebe,” I say.
“You don’t have to worry about that, live your life and be
happy,” he says.
“But that’s the thing malume, you expect me to forget
that I don’t know who my father is and live like nothing is
wrong when everything is wrong. I’m 26, nobody is
saying anything to me. I still know one story that doesn’t
even make sense.” I’m tired of pretending.
They didn’t tell me enough. They also didn’t look hard
enough.
“Who did my grandparents host before my mother
conceived me? Surely it’s not that hard to remember, it
was someone close to you. Everyone trusted him with
my mother, that’s the only way he had access and
enough time to not only take away her virginity but make
her pregnant as well.” I know it can only take one sexual
encounter for a woman to get pregnant but in my head
my mother was raped repeatedly, not just once.
“I was young Nalenhle, I can’t remember such details,”
he says.
I’m sorry but that’s bullshit. He’s not that young from my
mother, we all know the story.
“She had me at 22, you were 21. Were you not her
replacement?” I know he doesn’t deserve this
interrogation but he mustn’t act like he was a newborn
when it happened. He’s only 13 months apart with my
mother. When my grandfather discovered that he has a
daughter who’s not only fully blind, but mute as well, he
demanded another baby. Apparently my mother was
less of a human, so my uncle had to be born as a
replacement.
“You know how much I love my sister. If I had a say on
when I was born, I would’ve given her 20 years to enjoy
being a baby. I didn’t want things to happen the way
they did and I’m trying to make up for that.” He’s hurt by
my words, which wasn’t my intention.
“I’m not saying it was your fault,” I say.
“But that’s how it sounds and that’s how I’ve always felt.
I robbed my sister a chance to be a baby and to be
loved and cherished. I came and all the attention was on
me regardless of her being a person of special needs.
She wasn’t taken care of the way she should have been,
hence what happened happened. That’s why I’m taking
care of her myself, I want to make sure what happened
never happens again. And for 26 years I’ve done that.”
This conversation has gotten out of hand. The point I
was trying to make didn’t stick in, now we are talking
about something else. I don’t think anyone will ever
understand how hard my life is. Nobody is walking in my
shoes, they’re just by my side, which isn’t always
enough.
“I’m sorry I brought this up again.” I dust myself up. I
don’t think I will be with everyone for lunch. I need a
moment to myself.
“Nalenhle, we love you,” he says.
“I know malume.” I’m locking away a thousand drops of
tears.
“You are a Thabethe, those are the ancestors who look
after you. Live your life to the fullest and be happy. But
don’t forget that you’re still a child, not anyone’s wife.”
I nod and walk away.
-
-
-

Thami is not here for his birthday lunch, I’m also in my

room lying in bed because I can’t take my negative
energy to everyone on the table. My mother can feel it
when I’m not alright, I don’t want to ruin her day as well.
My uncle comes in with a plate of food. He tends to
overcompensate when something isn’t right with either
me or my mother.
“Get up and eat,” he says.
“I’m not hungry malume, thank you.”
“This will affect your mother, you know that. She already
knows that you’re not gathered with us for lunch.”
I sit and take the food. “Thank you.”
He sighs heavily and doesn’t walk out as expected.
“You know that your grandfather wasn’t buried at home,
right?”
“Yeah.” My grandfather’s body was too injured, they
said. He had too many wounds on his body, bringing his
body to our cemetery would’ve been a bad omen and
possibly create a generational curse.
“I think it’s time we bring his spirit home. Your mother,
you and I,” he says.
“And Zola?” I think he forgot about her.
“No, the three of us will be fine,” he says.
I don’t understand why we are leaving Zola behind, if
this needs biological family members I should be going
with his kids as well. His wife should be the only one left
behind. I don’t like dead spirits, don’t ask me about
Thobile’s, that one is a friendly spirit. I didn’t meet my
grandfather but from what I heard, he was a no-
nonsense man, I don’t think his spirit is friendly.
“When are we going?” I ask.
“Next time you come home, which I hope will be in your
next fortnight,” he says.
“Okay. But why are we bringing him home now? He’s
been dead my whole life.” I don’t think his dead self still
cares about it. I don’t even know where he was buried,
nobody ever visits him. Even my grandmother didn’t.
Zola comes in before he can give me an answer.
“What was the point of a family lunch if you two are
going to be doing your own thing in the room?” She’s not
happy at all.
“You can continue, I will join in a second,” malume says.
“No, you won’t. Even Thami’s day is about Nalenhle.”
She’s directing her aggression to me.
I’m the wrong person, darling.
“Thami is also not here, why is it a problem if I choose to
be alone?” I ask.
“Because ever since Nzalo went to Botswana you are a
baby, Nale. You can’t even make one day be about
someone else, everything is about you,” she says.
“How am I being a baby? I’m not sucking anyone’s
breast, I simple want to be alone.” I don’t understand
why this is hard for her to understand.
“That’s your way of seeking attention. We had an
agreement Nale, even aunty is now not eating because
you’ve thrown all your toys out of the basket,” she
throws her hands in the air.
“Call your sugardaddy, you will be fine.” I’m not going
back and forth with her.
“Oh, you want to go there now?” she asks, as if she
didn’t bring Nzalo into the conversation first.
“Yeah, call your sugardaddy and tell him to come and
pick you up,” I say.
“What sugardaddy?” Malume asks.
She blinks rapidly; looking at me with disbelief.
I eat my food and keep quiet.
“I’m not doing this.” She takes out her phone.
Hilariously doing exactly what I say she must do.
Sugardaddy will be jumping inside the car and racing
here to save his toddler.
“What’s going on between you two? Are you dating older
men Nokuzola?” Malume is getting angry.
“He’s not old, he’s 43,” she says.
“What? Nokuzola are you mad?”
“Of course it’s going to be an issue because it’s not Nale
doing it. I’m out of here.” She walks out of her own
father. And then she says it’s me who is an attention-
seeker?
I stayed in my room, she’s leaving her own brother’s
birthday. But I’m the bad guy, right?

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 24
ZOLA

I knew that he was going to come, as uncomfortable as

this is. We made a stop in the house and I packed what I
can, and we came to his house. Could I have handled
the situation differently? Yes. But I have been the bigger
person all my life. Thami knows how much I love him,
it’s unfortunate that I had to reach my breaking point on
his birthday.
“Hey, come here.” He puts me on his chest and gives
me a hug that I need.
I know my dad is mad where he is. I have never done
anything like this. I don’t disrespect him, I do what he
wants me to do, even when Nale doesn’t and get a
pass, I’m always that child who listens.
Xolani hasn’t asked me what happened, I was very
emotional, he did good by giving me a moment.
Now he asks, “What happened?”
“A lot.” I untangle from his embrace and sit up.
He’s staring at me, holding my hand. I know he wasn’t
comfortable coming to my parent’s house and taking
their daughter, especially since it wasn’t peaceful.
“I had a disagreement with Nale, she turned Thami’s
birthday and made it about herself. Everyone had to
stop celebrating and worry about her, I just lost it,” I say.
“I’m sorry about that. Was it that only?” he asks.
“It’s been a recurring behavior, they do a lot to please
Nale. Especially my dad, he’d disregard everyone’s
feelings to nurse Nale’s, I’m fed up.” I grew up and
endured this treatment, Nale before everyone else. I
understand that she has a void in her life, particularly
because of how she was conceived and my aunt being
unable to communicate. But it can only go on for so
long.
“Is it about Thabethe or Nale?” he asks.
“Both, I’m fed up with them,” I say.
“Alright.” He pulls me to his chest again.
I don’t cry easily, even though I’m hurt all I can do is vent
about it. And Xolani is the first man I can do that to,
freely. He puts me first, something no man has ever
done for me. For once I’m someone’s first priority, I
know he’d leave everything and come to me whenever I
need him. He doesn’t expect me to be bigger than
everyone in the room. He’s listening to me, not telling
me to know better and do better.
“Should we order something to eat?” he asks.
“Yes, please.” I didn’t finish my lunch.
My aunt wasn’t eating because Nale and my dad were
hiding in the bedroom. My mother was then begging her
to eat so that she could take her medication. Nale knows
how much everyone fusses over her but she’d pretend
like it just happens and she plays no part in it.
“Do you want pizza?” Xolani asks.
“Yes, creamy chicken,” I say.
He taps into his app. I think he’s figured out that I hate
cooking. But I will surprise him one day with a home
cooked meal.
“Maybe I needed to be born out of rape too,” I think out
loud. It seems like you have to be from traumatic
experiences to be noticed kwaThabethe.
“Please don’t say that, especially to your cousin,” he
says.
“But what should I think? They haven’t even called to
check how I’m doing but trust me, if it was Nale my dad
would be on radio stations, erecting missing person
boards, and looking for her up and down.” I know where
I stand in the pyramid, I have known my whole life. And I
stomached it for so long. I’m in the bottom; it’s every
child first then me. Maybe the first three years of my life
were good, before Nale was born. But sadly I can’t
remember. I just remember having a dad who had other
priorities. A dad who doesn’t let me make any mistake
but accept hundred similar mistakes from his niece.
“I don’t think he would call because of me. Indirectly, I
involved myself in your fight. Which is okay because
you’ve done the same for me, you fight my battles. But
it’s not going to have positive outcome as far as my
relationship with your parents go.”
I know, I just didn’t think straight at the time, I was too
emotional. I shouldn’t have called him, especially since
Nale had already told my dad that I’m dating a
“sugardaddy”, I should’ve taken a taxi.
“I will fix it,” I say.
“No, don’t worry. Your pizza is coming.” He kisses my
cheek and takes a deep breath. It’s not nothing, he’s
worried more than he lets on.
-
-
-

We move to the bedroom after our pizza delivery. I don’t

know if he had plans prior to getting my call, but it
seems like he will be indoors with me. He doesn’t have
snacks so we resorted to fruits. We are cuddled up, I’m
feeling a bit better and less angry about the situation.
“Maybe I should call them and tell them I’m okay, even
though they didn’t ask,” I say.
“Yes sthandwa sami, just to put them at ease. They
might not say it but I know any parent worries about their
child’s safety.” He was waiting for me to come to my
senses.
Because as much as I hate it, I care about my family
more than they care about me.
I call dad directly and he answers.
“Nokuzola,” he says.
“I just wanted to let you all know that I’m okay. I know
you didn’t ask, but just in case you were wondering,” I
say.
“You have disappointed me mntanami, I’m not going to
lie. I hope you come to your senses soon. That man
might be driving an expensive car but you’re not going to
get anywhere in life by associating yourself with older
men. He only wants one thing from you.”
Xolani is right next to me, he can hear this. I still don’t
think it was necessary for Nale to say I’m dating a
sugardaddy because I wasn’t referring to her
relationship with Nzalo, I said that to make her reflect on
her behavior. I wasn’t ratting her out, but even if I did
there wasn’t going to be any consequences for her. Dad
heard Nzalo’s name, he knows that Nale is also dating,
but he turned a blind eye and focused on me having a
sugardaddy. Nale knew that was going to happen, she
threw me under the bus.
“Your mother is heartbroken. The way you walked out
and got in that car, publicly shaming us, is not something
she expected from you,” he says.
“Dad do you care about how I feel at all?” He’s talking
about being publicly shamed, my mother’s broken heart
and being disappointed, nothing about how his daughter
feels.
“I care,” he says.
“It doesn’t feel so. You lead others and expect me to just
figure it out.”
“We could’ve talked about it. I have never refused to
listen to you. If you were not happy about something you
should’ve talked to me, like your cousin always does.
Not call another man to come and disrespect my house.”
This is not going anywhere, I drop the call.

Xolani didn’t disrespect him, he stayed in his car and

waited for me to come out. I don’t understand why he
uses that as an excuse not to consider my feelings.
I hear him taking a deep breath before putting his arm
around me.
“I didn’t mean to bring this drama to you, I’m sorry,” I
say.
“It’s fine sthandwa sami. I’m just sad that I couldn’t make
the situation better, my involvement added salt to the
wound,” he says.
“Don’t blame yourself. We had unresolved issues before
you, he’s just mentioning you to avoid acknowledging
my feelings.”
“I love you. I know it’s going to be questioned because
of the age difference but there’s nothing that I want from
you other than your heart,” he says.
“So you don’t want my body anymore?” I thought he was
obsessed with me.
He smiles, “Now you’re tricking me.”
“So you’re lying?” I ask.
“No, I’m just sad that things turned out like this. But I’m
going to do right by you and everyone who doubted our
love will be surprised,” he says.
I have no doubt about that. I snuggle myself on his
chest, his hand drops down to my waist. My weekend is
not going as planned but I’m in my happy place. In a
place where my feelings are acknowledged and put first.
-
-
-

NALENHLE

Zola took some of her things here. I don’t know if she’s

moving out or temporarily gone to vat’ n sit with Mr X.
We haven’t talked, she hasn’t been on Whatsapp. Thami
was hurt when he came home and found her gone. I
have tried reflecting back on the events of that day trying
to figure out how I offended her. I can’t think of one
single thing. Zola advised me to find a way to work
around my identity issues. That’s what I was doing by
confronting my uncle. I understand the timing may have
been wrong but it’s not like Thami was even there. I
didn’t ruin his day, even if I did it would’ve been his place
to confront me about it, not Zola. Whatever she’s going
through, I hope she heals. Maybe take her own advice
too and ‘find a way to work around it’.
I got back in the morning because I wanted to do
laundry. It’s Sunday afternoon, I’m bored and our TV is
still off. I have Nzalo’s keys to his mother’s house. I can
treat it as my vacation home, go there whenever I’m
bored. Nzalo is coming back tomorrow, I can’t wait. I
have a lot to talk about. I have never really shared my
deep fears and opened up about my issues to him. Zola
has always been there for that, but now that I know
she’s not, I will open up a bit more to Nzalo.

I requested a meter taxi to bring me here. It’s dark as

usual, but unlike his house there’s warmth and life here.
It feels like I’m walking in to a place I’ve lived in before. I
open the windows to let the air come in. At least here
there’s peace, I’m not worried about Zola walking in with
Mr X.
I find a box of juice in the fridge and pour some in a
glass. Nzalo bought grocery at long last. There is plenty
goodies and meat in the fridge.
I sit down in front of the TV and look for something to
watch. Yesterday was crazy, I didn’t get enough sleep
because someone chose to stress her parents so I was
looking after my mother. Sleep overpowers me halfway
through the movie.

I sail into the land of dreams. I’m still in this house but
I’m not alone. There’s a woman with me, she’s in the
kitchen. I can’t see her face but it feels like I know her
and she knows me.
She stands against the counter and I start telling her
about the the grocery Nzalo bought. I’m in a dream but it
feels like real life. I tell her about Nzalo’s coffee
addiction, which she laughs off.
“But my house is always dark,” she says.
I can hear the wretchedness in her voice.
“They don’t cook, I’m always hungry.” She turns her
back to me after she’s said that.
There’s a vertical rack where all the pots are displayed.
She grabs one after another, opens the lid and looks
inside then throws it away. In the blink of an eye
everything turns chaotic, she’s throwing pots all around
the kitchen because they are empty.
I wake up, panting heavily. I look around, I’m lying on the
couch and there’s no other person in here. I get up and
rush to the kitchen. The pot rack looks untouched. It was
all a dream, there was no woman. Or was she? In spirit,
maybe.

I log into Whatsapp to check if Nzalo has been online. I

have to update him about this dream. He hasn’t been on
Whatsapp since morning. I really hate this, can
tomorrow come already?
It’s getting late, I have to leave. I decide to call Msindisi
because I need a ride and I need to talk about this
dream. I think that was his mother. I don’t think she’s
happy about them leaving her house, Msindisi as the
younger son should’ve remained behind. I don’t know
why he’s staying with MaMkhwanazi at his age. His
mother’s house is unoccupied, he could have the
freedom he doesn’t have in MaMkhwanazi’s house.
I give him a call and ask him to come and drive me back
to my place.
-
-
-
I don’t know the weather in his head. He’s wearing long
white socks with shorts and a coat. Maybe he’s
confusing his ancestors. He comes in and gives me a
hug.
“Nzalo didn’t tell me you’d be here,” he says.
“I wanted to watch TV,” I say.
He laughs, “I would’ve came and watched it with you.
Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, but there’s something I want to tell you first, let’s
sit.”
I lead him back to the lounge. Msindisi is an easy person
to talk to. Maybe it comes with an age thing too, we can
relate to each other better.
“So I took a nap not so long ago and dreamed of your
mother. I didn’t see her face but I think it was her
because she said this is her house.”
He frowns, “My mother?”
“Yeah, she was standing against the kitchen counter. I
couldn’t see her face but we were talking, particularly
about Nzalo’s laziness when it comes to grocery
shopping. Then she said you guys keep her house in the
dark and she’s always hungry. Then she started
throwing all the pots on the floor, looking angry.”
“Hhayi ngeke Nale. My mother?” He doesn’t believe me.
I also can’t believe myself. I don’t dream a lot, so for his
mother, a complete stranger to appear in my dream, it's
hard to believe.
“She was a medium-sized woman, a bit thick below her
waist. You know plastic shoes? Others called them jelly
sandals, they used to be popular back in the days. She
was wearing them and a floral dress that was below her
knees.”
His face transforms from disbelief to a state of shock.
For a moment he’s frozen; not moving or saying
anything. Then he says, “She loved those shoes. Were
they pink?”
“Yes, pink,” I say.
“I don’t know what this means. Did you tell Nzalo?”
“He’s offline. But I think she simply wants her house to
be open. Where I come from every night you leave
some food in the pot because we believe our ancestors
visit at night. Nobody cooks here, that’s why she said
she’s hungry.”
“So I must come here and cook?” He’s now looking
nervous.
“Yes. And open her house, sometimes sleep here and
keep the lights on.”
“But ncane needs me at the moment,” he says.
“For what? She has a helper, her house is under
security 24/7.” I don’t understand why he makes it sound
like MaMkhwanazi is a child. He’s 25, he should’ve
moved out a long time ago.
“For emotional support,” he says.
“But you’ve been living with her for years. Uwena
isalakubusa from your mother’s womb, you should be
looking after her property,” I say.
“I will ask ncane if I can come.” He’s very weird.
“No, you have to come to your mother’s house and put
life into it. There’s grocery, pack some of your clothes
and come here tomorrow.”
“This place…it brings me bad memories,” he says.
“It’s time to confront your fears. You will feel better once
you’ve taken the first step.”
He nods but there’s still a lot of doubt in his eyes. I don’t
know if he’s scared to be where his mother’s life ended
or he’s scared of leaving MaMkhwanazi alone, which is
ridiculous.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 25
NALENHLE

I come out and see his car parked outside my

workplace. I run like a child, my world is complete again.
He climbs out and catches me as I swing up on his
arms. Oh my god, I have missed him so much. I can’t
believe how much I actually enjoy his company. It’s true
that sometimes you don’t know what you have until it’s
gone.
“I see, someone really missed me.” He’s smiling.
I have missed this smile so much. I stand on my toes
and kiss his lips.
“Let’s get inside, I will tell you some hot gossip about
MaKhoza.”
He laughs, “I just arrived.”
I get inside, he closes the door and goes to his side.
I just missed having a conversation with him. Oh,
flowers?
“Are they mine?” I ask, they’re already in my hands.
“Yes, I went for some classes in Botswana, I’m a better
boyfriend than I was yesterday.”
“That’s nice. What else did you bring me? Seswaa?” I
ask.
“No, you will see when you come to my house. Can I get
a kiss?”
I talk too much and forget important things. We kiss for a
good minute. Sometimes my body aches for more but I
hold back. I’m feeling his chest, aching to burst his
buttons open and touch his skin.
“Babe, I missed you so much.” My feelings for him are
deeper than I acknowledge.
He cups my face in his hands. “You don’t know how
hard it was for me to leave you behind. How have you
been?”
“Not good,” I say, truthfully.
“What happened?” He’s instantly concerned.
“Zola and I had a fight. She called me an attention-
seeker for not gathering with the family for Thami’s
birthday lunch but Thami wasn’t even there. Then I said
she’s dating a sugardaddy, your uncle pulled up and
took her. I haven’t seen her ever since that day.”
“You should talk about it and sort it out,” he says.
“If Mr X wasn’t in the picture we would’ve sorted it out a
long time ago.” Mr X inserted himself in our fight. As
someone old enough to be our father he should be
telling Zola to sort things out with her family.
“I don’t know why she was mad. Even if I was seeking
attention, how does that affect her bank account to the
point where she’d pack her clothes and move out?” I
don’t have a clue. If I knew what I did I would be open to
apologizing and hunting her down.
“Maybe you have to hear her out and then decide if you
care or not. I don’t like it when you two don’t get along,
you know that.” He wants to mediate, mostly because
he’s got a soft spot for Zola.
Am I being unreasonable? No, Zola wanted to do this. I
think she’s been waiting for an opportunity to be mad at
me so that she’d go and live with Mr X. But I will become
a bigger person and let Nzalo take me to their house so
that we can talk.
Just not today, today I want to be in my man’s arms.
“Zola’s drama aside, I had a chat with my uncle about
my dad and it wasn’t productive,” I say.
“Why are you looking for him?” he asks.
“I want to know who he is, that’s all. But my uncle
couldn’t give me any solid explanation, he made it about
something else and became emotional about it, so I just
let it go.”
“Have you ever thought that you may never find out who
he was? The possibility of living with that?” he asks.
“Honestly, no.” I have always thought that one day I will
know who he was.
I have never put a room for any other possibility.
“I think 26 years is a very long time. Life is not really that
long, you have to start living it. You can’t waste it
because there’s one cruel man whose identity you don’t
know,” he says.
“You’re right, looking at it that way. But life isn’t that
simple, things like this are what make it complete. What
if his surname is Hadebe? What would become of us if
we find out too late?”
This is a serious moment, but he’s smiling and making it
something it’s not. “Then we’ll have izidikiselo, we’ll not
be the first ones.”
“What is that?” I’ve never heard of it.
“An incest child,” he says.
I don’t want izidikiselo, I want beautiful children who are
born under shameful circumstances.
“I love that you see a future between us,” he says.
I didn’t mean to publicize my inner thoughts, I will be
more careful the next time

We drive to my place so that I can freshen up and

change my clothes. Zola is still not here but she hasn’t
come back for all her staff either, so I believe she’s
going to come back. I make Nzalo a cup of coffee and
go to the bathroom. I bought it specifically for him. It will
stay in our cupboard for whenever he comes by.
I have a set of sexy underwear. I’m always properly
dressed; always prepared. You never know, you can be
walking on the street and have the wind blow up your
dress. It’s cases like that I prepare for.
I’m wearing a cami cropped top and long skinny jeans. I
put on a cap to complete my casual look.
“Won’t you get cold?” he asks when I appear.
“No, I have a crocodile skin. I don’t get cold.” I pull his
hand up, he gets off the couch and takes my bag then
we go. I will be back tomorrow, hopefully with Zola if she
forgives me for whatever I did to her in her head.
-
-
-

Msindisi is here. Nzalo is just as surprised, I guess they

didn’t talk about it. We find him in the kitchen cooking, or
attempting to. I don’t think he’s ever cooked in his life.
There are potato peels everywhere. Whatever he was
cooking in the small pot is burnt and smelling.
“Why are you burning the house down?” Nzalo asks.
“I’m cooking.” He looks at me. “Should I have cooked
the potatoes first before peeling them?”
“You think that would have been a great idea?” I don’t
understand why he thinks they’re wrong the way they
are.
Nzalo breaks into laughter. “What’s wrong with you
ntwana? Go home and eat. Or just grab a bite
somewhere.”
“I’m cooking for my mother,” Msindisi says.
He stops laughing, freaked out a bit. “Uncane?”
“No, Thobile. She told Nale in her dream that we don’t
cook here.”
“Oh…when did that happen?” He looks at me.
“Yesterday, I was going to tell you but you were offline.”
I’m proud of Msindisi for honoring this.
I hope it’s going to become a habit for both of them. I
don’t want their mother to keep coming to my dreams.
“This is spooky,” he says.
I didn’t expect this from him, he’s the oldest in this room.
“So who’s going to eat burnt potatoes? You will take
them to her grave?”
Msindisi shrugs, “I will just leave it inside the pots.”
“You could’ve just ordered instead of cooking,” he says.
There’s a long way to go. But he will go and buy us
something to eat because we are not going to eat
Msindisi’s potatoes. I don’t even know what he’s
cooking, it could be a mash with spices or potato curry
with no seasoning.
Nobody wants to drive out, Nzalo ordered online. Our
food arrived and for the first time in years they’re having
dinner in their mother’s house. Msindisi is also sleeping
over. I hope their mother is going to come with heaven
money to thank me. None of this would be happening if
it wasn’t for my wisdom.
“I think I’m going to start a Thobile organization,
something to keep her name alive,” Msindisi says.
It’s not him speaking, I think he got freaked out. It’s not a
bad idea, they should’ve done something to keep her
name alive a long time ago.
“To help the less privileged?” Nzalo asks.
“Yes, something she was passionate about.”
Nzalo nods, “That would be fantastic, I will do it with
you.”
I’m about to compliment them for this beautiful initiative
they’re taking, Msindisi’s phone rings.
He answers, it sounds like he’s talking to MaMkhwanazi.
The call ends with him on his feet. “Ncane says there’s a
lizard in the living room.”
“So what?” I’m a bit confused.
“I can’t sleep here, otherwise she will be freaked out the
whole night.”
What the fuck bazalwane? I have never heard of anyone
who was killed by a lizard. Where must it stay if not on
the wall?
“It’s just a lizard, she’s a grown woman,” I say.
“But she’s a woman and she’s alone over there.”
Unbelievably Nzalo is backing this bullshit up.
“What if Msindisi was far? Would she have slept in a
hotel and left her house?” Hotels also have lizards by
the way. Well, not the five star ones but lizards are
usually inside buildings.
“It doesn’t matter, he’s around,” Nzalo says.
Msindisi grabs his keys and leaves. I’ve never been so
confused in my life.
“So if she sees another lizard she’s going to call you to
come and gang up on them with Msindisi?” I ask.
“You’re being dramatic,” he says.
At times like this I miss Zola. This is a hot gossip, we
would’ve broken down it into different narratives.
-
-
-

Today I’m going to Mr X’s house for the first time. Nzalo
is with me, I hope we are on time because she’s due for
her shift in an hour. I know there’s a possibility that
things might not work out. Zola wants to be with Mr X,
she needs this undefined feud going on to justify her
moving in with him. There’s no reason why she moved
out because we can not see each other if we want.
We’ve done it before; I left too early for my shift and she
came too late from hers. Then on weekends she can be
with him and I’d be with Nzalo. Problem solved!

I had no doubt that Mr X is a wealthy man, so his

house’s exterior doesn’t surprise me. Neither does a toy
parked at the front. I wonder why he couldn’t just let go
of MaMkhwanazi and her betrayal because he’s done so
well for himself ever since she left him.
We walk inside, he comes and gets us from the door.
Things are still tense between us. Even though I no
longer think he’s with Zola for any malicious intention,
but him coming to my uncle’s house and taking Zola
because she had a disagreement with her family rubbed
all of us the wrong way.
“How was Molepolole?” he asks.
“I had a great time,” Nzalo says.
To me he said he didn’t enjoy it because I wasn’t there.
“Can we see Zola?” Nzalo asks.
“Yeah, I think she’s done dressing up.” He turns his eyes
to me. Maybe he wants to say something but I keep my
eyes away. He takes us to his lounge, offers a seat and
asks Nzalo to get me something to drink while we are
waiting.

She’s dressed up for work, but not completely. There’s

still time, she greets Nzalo and takes a seat. Mr X has
also invited himself to this meeting. It’s two versus two.
“Did you move out?” I ask.
“My stuff is still there. What do you mean?”
“You’ve been gone the whole week. What is the real
problem?” I’m calm today, I want to listen, maybe I will
understand where she is coming from.
“I didn’t say there was a problem.” She’s not willing to
participate and have a productive conversation with me.
Very childish!
“So you just left your brother's birthday for the fun of it?”
I ask.
“Because you told my dad that I have a sugardaddy.”
Here we go!
Mr X will shoot and kill me one day because she tells
him everything that I say.
“We were arguing and you started bringing names into
it,” I say.
“So his name is sugardaddy? You knew what his
reaction was going to be. And that’s my problem with
you. You know what your actions cause. When you don’t
eat and lock yourself in your room, you know that my
dad is going to follow you and beg you to eat.”
“And how exactly does that affect your breathing pipes?”
I’m not here to fight but I’m not here to take her
nonsense either. If she didn’t want him to follow me she
could’ve dragged him back.
“He is my dad, it was his son’s birthday and you made it
about you. Don’t you get it? Give other people a chance
to be attended to.” Her voice is rising, her man better
check her out.
“This is exactly why I’m looking for my own dad, so I
don’t have to do this.” I’ve never tried to take her dad
away from her, however he’s the only person I have as
well.
“If my mother was able to communicate I would’ve left
your dad alone. But right now he’s the only person I can
ask questions. I don’t have anyone else to turn to.” I
didn’t come here to cry, I’m leaving.
“I don’t think that’s what she meant,” Mr X butts in.
They’ve probably discussed me the whole weekend. I’m
the attention seeker that has taken people’s daddies
away.
“Nzalo let’s go,” I say.
He’s hesitant but he gets up and says goodbye.
This was fruitless, I shouldn’t have agreed to come.

He opens the door for me. Zola appears, she’s following

is.
“Can you excuse us for a minute?” she asks Nzalo.
He doesn’t even confirm with me, he just walks back
inside the house.
“I heard you,” I say. I don’t want to talk about this any
further.
“I didn’t start feeling this way Saturday or last week. I
have been feeling neglected my whole life, by my dad
mostly. How he treats you is not how he treats me. You
not having a father shouldn’t have taken away my right
to have a present father.”
That hurts. It breaks my spirit to the core. If I knew she
was feeling like this I would’ve minimized the time I
spend with my uncle. Because I’m not a dad thief, I don’t
steal people’s dads.
“If you left home the way I did he would’ve been in a taxi
to Tongaat first thing the next morning. But it’s me, he
doesn’t care,” she says.
“I have never had a man pick me up outside the yard.” I
get her point but I don’t think I would’ve gotten a free
pass on that.
“But do you see what I’m talking about?” she asks.
“I do but I feel like you should talk to him about it. You
made it seem like I was the problem whereas you have
issues with him as a parent. I didn’t do anything wrong
to you or anybody. I’m a human, I’m allowed to have my
lows. You cannot dictate when I should feel down and
need space.”
“I was wrong for doing that. I just needed you to realize
the role you were playing into dividing everyone’s
attention and making everything about you. Whether you
do that intentionally or not, but it happens. You stop
eating, dad follows you, my aunt doesn’t eat therefore
can’t take her medication, so my mother as her guardian
gets stressed as well.”
“I don’t think we will agree on that because if I don’t feel
like gathering with everyone, I’m not going to force
myself to. But I heard you loud and clear on other
issues.” I will just minimize my time around my uncle,
hopefully she will get what she wants.
“I haven’t moved out, I will come back,” she says.
“Okay, see you when I see you.” I close the door.
She walks away. I didn’t know I was holding back tears
until now.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 26
ZOLA

I don’t feel like I was able to express myself. Nale didn’t

understand where I was coming from and that hurts
because in all of this I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
The right person to talk to would’ve been my father but
we are not open to that level. Nale and I talk about
almost everything but this time around I feel like our
communication is broken.
Xolani tried to talk to her, he understands what I was
trying to say. But Nale wouldn’t listen to him, she
chooses who she listens to. I feel like I didn’t handle that
well and I hate myself for it because the past thing I
wanted to is come across as jealous. I’m okay with her
relationship with my father, it’s my relationship with him
that I’m not okay with.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he hugs me.
I know it’s not okay. Right now I’m at odds with my
whole family.
“Let’s sit,” he pulls me back to the couch.
I should be going to work but I’m an emotional wreck.
“You can report absent at work, it’s just one night.”
“But I can’t miss work because I had an argument with
my cousin. That’s a lame excuse,” I say.
“You don’t have to undermine your pain. Take this off.”
He kneels down and unties my boot laces then takes
them off. He sits on the other side and pulls my feet to
his lap.
“I don’t have massage oils,” he says.
I force out a smile, “It’s okay.”
“You’re a good sister, don’t ever doubt that. Siblings fight
all the time and make up,” he says.
I understand he’s trying to motivate me but he’s really
not the one to say this.
He grins, “I know what you’re thinking, my case was
different.”
“I just think fighting with your own family is not alright. I
really don’t know what changed because I’ve been okay
with things that were happening at home. Maybe you
are not the best influence on me.”
“Bad influence should leave you alone.” He pushes my
feet off his lap.
Can’t he take a joke?
I put them back on his lap. “I’m kidding, please rub my
heels, it feels so good.”
Well, he can’t say no to me, he’s massaging me again.
His phone rings, his face changes before he drops it.
I want no fishy behavior.
“Answer it,” I say.
“I don’t want to bring my family issues, today is about
you,” he says.
“No, I don’t mind.” I want to know who is calling him.
He can’t drop calls as if he has a side-chick.
It rings again, this time he answers.
“Robyn what is it?” he asks.
His speaker is too low, I can’t hear her. But he looks
uncomfortable talking to her, he says he’s busy and
drops the call. I guess this female wanted to see him.
I’m not going to ask questions, if there’s anything he
wants me to know he will say it.
“Robyn is working with me on the case,” he says.
“Oh. Is she a private investigator?” I ask.
“No, I asked her to get close to Mazwi’s fiance, she’s
good,” he says.
“So what was she saying?” I ask.
“She wanted to see me, I guess she has an update.”
“Then why didn’t you tell her to come here instead of
saying you’re busy? It could be important.”
“No, I know her, she exaggerates,” he says.
“Let’s go to her, we are not doing anything.” I want him
to resolve this so that we can move on. If he keeps
postponing important meetings we are delaying.
I get my feet off him.
“Nokuzola!”
I look at him, confused.
Why doesn’t he want to hear what Robyn has to say?
“Sit,” he says.
I sit down. There must be more to this. Why do I feel like
he doesn’t want me to meet this Robyn?
He smiles, “Today is about you, I don’t want you to
stress over my family skeletons.”
He’s hiding something from me and I won’t push
because I don’t know what it is. But it doesn’t sit well
with me, I hate what he’s doing.
“Do you want us to go out for dinner?” he asks.
“We’ll do whatever you want us to do,” I say.
“But you’re the woman of this house.” He pulls my feet
up and kisses both of them, then smiles at me.
“So you make the rules and I listen,” he says.
“Well, you didn’t listen to me just a few minutes ago.” I
need to change into something comfortable. I’m not
going out, I will make myself something to eat and then
watch a movie from my phone.
I leave him on the couch and go to the bedroom to
change. I close the door and change. Then I sit on the
bed and play back everything that happened today. I
don’t know what exactly I’m crying for. That he’s hiding
something from me or my fight with Nale.
.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

We came back to my place. He was just dropping me off

but he ended up coming inside with me. He’s never
spent the night here, today might just be his first. I’m a
very emotional person, I used to throw a lot of tantrums
growing up, now I overly express myself and say things
that I wouldn’t necessarily say out loud without anger.
My uncle calls, right during my explosive mood swings.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Hey mshana, can you find time this coming weekend to
come home? I think we should fetch your grandfather’s
spirit sooner than I planned. You, your mom and I.”
“No, I’m not going. Tell Zola to come with you,” I say.
“No, this needs you,” he says.
“She will replace me, I’m not coming.” I drop the call.
He calls again, I switch it off.
“Nale you’re being dramatic,” says someone who
inherited his stepmother’s battles.
How am I being dramatic, Zola doesn’t want me around
“her dad” because it takes away their bonding time. So
I’m minimizing my presence for father and daughter to
bond.
“I really don’t think it’s that deep,” he says.
“It is deep, she’s moved out.” We’ve had arguments
before but this one is extreme.
“She said she’s angry over the sugardaddy comment,”
he says.
“How come she’s angry and Mr X, the actual
sugardaddy, is not angry?”
“Can you calm down?”
No, I won’t actually calm down.
I leave him with his three senses and go to my room.

Moments later he follows me, giving me the phone.

“Zola wants to talk to you,” he says.
I’m really not in the mood to have another conversation
with her.
I take the phone and put it over my ear. “I’m here.”
She doesn’t speak but I can hear her breathing on the
other side.
“Zola?” I’m not sure what’s going on.
Why is she calling me if she won’t speak?
“Something is just off with him,” she says, she’s crying.
Zola doesn’t cry. Her celebrity crush can die, get married
or stop posting on Instagram. Zola wouldn’t shed a tear.
I’ve known her for 26 years, my whole life. But I can
count with my hands the number of times I’ve seen her
cry in her adulthood.
I sit up properly. “What’s going on?”
“Xolani is hiding something. I hate how he’s making me
feel, I’m not an insecure person,” she says.
Bloody pensioner! I almost trusted him, I was ready to
put my pride aside and go apologize for misjudging.
“What happened mzala?” I ask.
“There’s a busy body called Robyn, I don’t know what
she is to him, he’s lying to me saying they’re working
together on Thobile’s case.” The phone’s speaker is
high, it’s a bit later when I lower it.
Nzalo is standing over me, hearing his mother’s name.
“Do you want me to come over?” I ask.
“No, I just want to cry,” she continues crying.
I don’t think this is all about Mr X. His untruthful ass is
catching stray bullets.
“Are you done crying?” I ask after a minute.
“No…he’s at the door,” she says.
“Don’t let him inside, make him sleep on the couch.”
“It’s his house,” she reminds me.
“Okay don’t speak to him.” At the end of the day he
needs to get punished for his sins.
“Alright, I will open and give him silent treatment.”
That right there is a true Thabethe!
I give Nzalo his phone and switch mine on. Hopefully my
uncle got the message, I’m not going. He needs to invite
Zola, maybe they will talk about whatever they need to
talk about.
“Can I sit?” he asks.
It’s serious. I don’t even know what I’m going to say. As
much as I don’t like Mr X, I’m not going to rat him out.
He will tell Nzalo once he’s gathered enough evidence,
the fact that he hasn’t said anything means he doesn’t
have it yet.
“Nice to you two reconciling over my uncle.”
But he doesn’t like his uncle, so what is the problem?
“What’s going on Nalenhle? Why is my mother’s name
in it?” He’s the Nzalo I saw at his father’s funeral. He’s
not laughing with me.
“It’s another Thobile,” I say.
“Look at me.” He turns my face towards him, “Do you
see ‘stupid’ written on my forehead?”
“No,” I say.
“So why is Zola talking about my mother? What case is
she talking about?”
“You better talk to your uncle about this,” I say.
“And not to my girlfriend whom I have opened up to and
shared everything with? What would make me trust my
uncle over you?”
God help me! He’s angry, his grabellar lines deepen
between his forehead.
I keep quiet, silence is golden.
“Okay,” he says and stands up.
I’ve never heard a more admonitory okay.
He’s leaving.
“Babe!” I want him to stay.
“We’ll talk when you want to talk to me.” He walks out
and closes the door behind.
Moments later I hear him driving off.
Zola is responsible for this but she’s going through a lot.
I’m not going to burden her more. Nzalo will calm down,
as I said his uncle will clarify this better than me.
.
.
.
.
I don’t have transport to work, obviously. I have to take a
taxi, something I’m no longer used to. I’m preparing my
lunchbox when I hear a car pulling up. I refuse to believe
that’s Zola. Zola will be coming back here with her bags
by taxi. Not using Mr X’s car.
I open the door and look outside. Mameshane!
What are my eyes seeing?
He’s dropping her off, I walk out just as they’re sharing a
kiss.
My anger, my words of comfort, all down the drain!
Mr X drives away, Zola makes her way to the house
carrying a box of pizza and her purse.
“And then?” I’m confused.
“I need my ID, I think left here.” She’s intentionally not
answering my question.
“And then why are you still together?” I ask.
“Oh, he explained the Robyn situation. We even called
her, there’s nothing going on between them,” she says.
I can’t believe this. I even stopped myself from telling
her how she ruined my night because I thought she was
going through a lot.
“I thought you weren’t going to speak to him,” I say.
“I tried but he’s a smooth talker, you know him.”
“No, I don’t!”
“Well, he is. Later today we are going to meet with
Robyn together.”
Well, speaking about that…my relationship is hanging
on a thin thread.
“Nzalo heard you talking about Mr X being on Thobile’s
case, the call was loud and he was standing next to me,”
I say.
“And you didn’t say anything to warn me?”
“I didn’t know you’d talk about her,” I say.
“Even so, why would you hear me crying and let another
person listen to the call.” She’s forgotten that it was
Nzalo’s phone that she called.
“This is a mess, he’s going to fight Xolani.” She’s
worried about her man, not my relationship.
“He’s angry at me for not telling him the truth,” I tell her.
“Don’t worry, Xolani will sort it out, he’s a superman.”
She opens the pizza and asks if I want some.
Obviously I do, she’s the reason why I have no pizza of
my own.
“Your father called last night, there’s something she
wants you, him and my mother to do this coming
weekend,” I tell her.
“I’m not going Nale, I have other plans.” Her mood
changes instantly.
“But if I go you will have a problem, so I don’t
understand.” I’m truly confused, what does she really
want.
“You won’t understand Nale, only Xolani understands
me,” she says.
“Someone you just met now understands you better
than I do?” I’m shocked. What a good dick can’t do
doesn’t exist. Oh, throw money in there too.
“I don’t have a problem with you doing what you want to
do with him. I don’t have an uncle of my own, so I don’t
know the dynamics of such relationship.”
“I also don’t know how it’s like to have a dad, so?”
“So we won’t agree to disagree. I don’t think all fathers
disregard their daughter the way my father does, just
because they have nieces.”
“I don’t understand, what makes you think he disregards
you?”
She unlocks her phone and scrolls down a few times.
Then she shows me their call history.
“I left home, he didn’t call me. But how many times has
he called you? I’m just not a priority to him, he expects
me to figure it out, which I always do. But I need him to
make me a priority at times. He can have more than one
priority, it can balance out.”
I think I understand her concerns now. I also don’t think
my uncle intentionally disregard her. Had she not called
me yesterday, I also wouldn’t have known that she
needed a shoulder to cry on.
“You have to talk to him about it,” I say.
“I don’t think I’m the type that asks for attention. I don’t
know how to, it’s either you give me or you don’t.”
“I’m also that type,” I say.
She fakes a cough. “How many slices?”
“Just three, I will have more when I come back. You
need to tell Mr X to expect Nzalo so that my name can
be cleared. Also try to express your feelings to your
father.” I don’t think he’s even aware that there’s a
problem. Maybe his wife also feels neglected because of
my mom who needs help 24/7.
I really don’t know how this is going to be resolved. I will
try and stay out of it.
I call Nzalo on my way to work. His phone rings
unanswered for some time, when I’m about to drop he
answers.
He first talks to someone on the side; “Give me a
minute, I have to take this call from my garden lady.”
“Hey, it’s me, Nale,” I say.
“What do you want? I’m busy.”
“Nzalo?” I don’t think he’s aware who he’s talking to.
“Speak Nalenhle,” he says.
He’s very much aware.
“Why are you calling me a garden lady? Since when am
I your garden lady?” Out of all things he could’ve called
me, a garden lady. He doesn’t even have a garden.
“Well, I could’ve called you a double-dealer, a quisling or
Judas.” He’s such a cry baby.
I told him exactly where he’d get information.
I click my tongue and drop the call.
“Eyy men!” someone says on the seat behind me.
I may have relationship problems for now, but I need no
taxi broken-heart women group.
I put my earphones on and play music.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 27
ZOLA

We talked about the Robyn situation and I really hated

myself for being dramatic. I haven’t had many
relationships that ended because of cheating, I don’t
know where the insecurities came from because I’m a
very confident lady.
But walking in, seeing her sitting on the table in her
skinny jeans and sunglasses. Xolani’s discomfort when
she hugged him, I’m thinking maybe I wasn’t delusional
to think something is going on. I still feel that way, which
is crazy because they’re having a conversation right in
front of me, including me. I can’t find it in me to trust her
with him.

My mind is roaming far away, I’m only brought back by

hearing her mentioning that Mazwi’s fiance is planning a
private birthday party for her daughter’s party in a secret
location and none of her friends and family are invited.
They’re likely to be going to him to celebrate the girl’s
birthday. It’s time for action, tracking devices and all. I
don’t know what Xolani plans to do when he’s found his
exact location. He’s not really his target, MaMkhwanazi
is. He just needs Mazwi to spill out the truth, which is
what he ran away from.
Robyn stands up to go. “It was nice meeting you,
darling,” she says to me.
I force a smile, “Likewise.”
She grabs her Gucci purse and walks away. I watch her
go, she’s a mid-aged mixed raced woman, good looking
and definitely high in her confidence.
“Are you okay?” his voice pulls me back.
I look at him and nod. I’m okay, just feeling a bit weird.
“Do you want anything else or we should go?” he asks.
“I will get a burger for Nale,” I say.
He waits for me as I order. I know she will come back
from work pissed and blaming me because of her fall out
with Nzalo. Honestly, I wouldn’t have guessed that Nzalo
was listening. I told Xolani about it but he didn’t seem to
think it’s a big deal and said he will talk with Nzalo when
he comes.
I get her burger and chips and then we go.
.
.
.
.
I’m going to my place, I wasn’t moving out, I just needed
his support for a moment. Now that Nale and I have
ironed out our issues I’m okay being in the same space
as her, even though she hasn’t apologized for calling
him a sugardaddy.
He pulls up outside, Nale is already home, the windows
are open.
“See you tomorrow, hopefully,” I say.
“Wait Nokuzola,” he says.
I sit still, looking at him.
“Are you sure that you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say.
“I’m picking an energy shift. Can you be honest with
me?”
He won’t understand, intentionally. I don’t want to make
something out of nothing. After all, it’s all in my head. My
instincts could be wrong, maybe I’m just intimidated by
Robyn.
“I’m really okay,” I assure him.
He gives me a kiss and comes to open the door for me.
He kisses me again then I walk away.

I walk in, Nale is stretched on the couch.

“Did you see the time or you’re not going to work?” she
asks.
“I’m not, I took a day-off,” I say.
“But you didn’t go yesterday as well.”
“It’s not a big deal, my management is aware and they
have someone standing in.” I know she thinks I’m not
caring for my job but the truth is I’m exhausted. I work
night shift five days a week. Before I was in a
relationship it was okay, but now I really get exhausted.
“Maybe you should change to day shift,” she says.
“I will think about it.” I push her feet down to the floor
and sit. “I got you something to eat,” I say.
“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Same question.
I just sigh and rest my head on the couch.
She exclaims, “Robyn! You didn’t like her, right?”
“Yoh! Something is off, I swear,” I say.
“What happened?” She’s a natural mamgobhozi.
I sigh and sit up straight. I don’t mind not making sense
to her, I’ve listened to her nonsense since she was a kid.
“There is nothing specific but I’m getting a vibe that
those two know each other naked,” I say.
“Was he checking her out?” she asks.
“No, but he was trying too hard to keep the conversation
formal. So my thing is, this is one acquaintance that has
the privilege to call you numerous times and ask to see
you. But when you see her you want to call her Miss
Robyn?”
“Oh, fuck. Did you confront him?”
“And said what, Nale?” I would’ve sounded stupid saying
all this.
There’s an alert on my phone.
“It’s a bank notification,” I tell her Nale, turning the
screen to her.
She reads the amount and her mouth drops.
Xolani is guilty as a fuck. This is the confirmation I
needed.
“He’s smart,” Nale says.
His call follows. I can’t even describe how I feel.
Nale wants me to answer but I’m not sure what I’m
going to say to him. Do I ignore the red flags and act like
nothing is wrong?
“Hello,” I finally sum up courage to pick up.
“MaThabethe, I miss you,” he says.
I signal for Nale to keep quiet, she’s trying to tell me
what to say. Nale is an expert of everyone’s relationship
except her own.
“You just saw me,” I say.
“Yeah but I felt like something made you upset.”
“I’m not upset. What is the money for?” I ask.
“Spoil yourself, you have a whole day tomorrow you can
go shopping,” he says.
“Thank you.” I can’t say no to money and I can’t
question his intentions because he often gives me
money.
“I love you, don’t ever doubt that,” he says.
“I love you too,” I say.
He ends the call. I can hear that he’s stressed out.
Nale would’ve probably preferred for me not to say I love
him back. But the truth is, I’m not going to attack him
without any proof, just because I feel like something has
happened between him and Robyn.
“Really?” Nale with a disapproving look.
“I can’t be mad until I have a solid reason to be.”
She claps her hands, “I thought I’ve seen it all!”
I’m definitely not going to overreact but I will keep my
eyes open. If there’s still something going on between
them I will be hurt. I really love him. I don’t imagine
myself out of that relationship.
“Let me eat and go,” Nale says.
“Where are you going?” I’m lost.
“I have to talk to Nzalo, he’s still mad at me.”
Oh, she’s going to fix her relationship. Really, her!
“I bought you food and you want to leave me alone the
whole night?”
“Says someone who’s been gone for days.” She’s takes
the burger and starts eating.
I shouldn’t have wasted Xolani’s money on her.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Nzalo’s anger is exaggerated but I’m going to be a

bigger person and apologize. I hope he’s here, not in
MaMkhwanazi’s house. The taxi drops me outside, I
have to call him to let me in. But he’s not picking up. It’s
dark outside, I’m getting cold. Zola would laugh if she
saw this.
I call Msindisi and ask him to call him on my behalf. It
doesn’t take long before the gate opens. Thobile really
gave birth to a drama king. He stands outside the door
waiting for me.
“Hello,” I say walking up to him.
“I didn’t know you were outside.”
“Well, I’ve waited for over ten minutes in the cold.”
I walk in, he closes the door and follows me behind.
It smells like lamb curry here. I grab a chair in the
kitchen and sit. It’s warm here, he’s cooking.
“Did you talk to your uncle?” I ask.
“About what?” Now he’s forgotten why him and I are not
in a good place.
“Okay, your uncle wasn’t satisfied with how your
mother’s case ended. He’s got new team of
investigators looking into it.” I hope this won’t create
more tension between them.
He frowns, “My uncle? Since when does he care?”
“But it’s your stepmother he doesn’t get along with. He
was okay with your mom, right?”
“Yeah but my uncle wouldn’t just do something if he’s
not going to benefit from it. And another thing, the killer
died. So what is in it for him?”
“He lost his sister-in-law,” I say.
“If his intentions were pure he would’ve informed her
family first. Not you and Zola because what business do
you have with my mom?”
Isn’t she my mother-in-law?
“Why couldn’t you tell me yesterday?” he asks.
“It’s not my place, I’m only telling you because I want
you to stop calling me a garden lady,” I say.
“I really don’t like secrets, Nalenhle. If you’re going to
keep things from me, eyy I don’t know.” He shakes his
head and turns to his cooking pot.
He’s still mad, so I let him be. He cooks silently and
dishes up for both of us. He’s not a bad cook, he really
tried. I just wish we could eat with a good conversation
going down.
“I said I’m sorry,” I say.
“Did you even mean it? You don’t care Nale, this is just a
game to you. Umjolo nje.”
“What have I done?” I’m not sure where this is coming
from. I have been very intentional with him.
Not even once have I made this a game.
“I want us to connect deeper than this on an emotional
level and that means we have to be open and honest
with each other,” he says.
You’d swear that I cheated on him.
On my side I feel like we’ve connected, as far as we
could have. I know who he is, I also believe for the last
few days I’ve also shown him who I am, the most
vulnerable sides of me.
“I feel like I’ve done everything, what I haven’t given is
what I don’t have,” I say.
“I feel like there’s more to who you are,” he says.
I’m honestly bored by this conversation. Maybe it’s time I
let him nut, I think he’s sexually frustrated.

I strip my clothes off and get in bed only in my

shapewear bra and panties. I didn’t bring any sexy
underwear because I wasn’t prepared for what I’m about
to do.
He comes out of the bathroom, already moisturized and
in his sleeping shorts.
I remove the duvet, his eyes land on my half nakedness
and he gasps.
“Hey,” I stand up.
He clears his throat, “I thought you are already asleep.”
“No, I’m waiting for you.” I wrap my arms around his
waist.
I love how he smells; I kiss his bare chest.
He takes in a deep breath, “Are you not tired?”
“No, I’m not.” I massage him around his waist.
I don’t think I’ve ever been with a man for so long
without knowing him in bed. We’ve spent so much time
together, shared a bed and cuddled so many nights, but
he’s never rushed me or asked me to do anything.
I push my hand inside his shorts and finally grab his
shaft. His front package is big. I raise my eyes to him.
His lips are slightly parted. I kiss them, he opens his
mouth to deepen the kiss. I play with his shaft until he’s
fully erected.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask.
“Mmmm.” His voice is too rough to come out.
I push him down to the bed and then open the drawers. I
find a sealed pack of condoms and take one.
He’s playing with his shaft, watching me tearing the
condom open. Before I put it on him, his phone disturbs.
“Just a second!” he wraps one arm around my waist and
answers.
I’m playing with his beard as he talks to the phone.
But I immediately stop when I hear that someone is
crying. It’s a phone call from MaMkhwanazi, I don’t know
why she’s crying. Nzalo is also trying to find out exactly
that.
It’s fruitless, she called him to cry without explaining.
“Love,” he says, getting up.
I don’t think he’s going to leave me here. Never!
“Nzalo?”
He grabs my face and kisses me.
“I don’t know what’s wrong, I will quickly go there and
check what’s going on.”
This is a joke! MaMkhwanazi is not a baby. Even if she’s
missing her late husband, she has friends and her
church community. Why is she calling Nzalo? She
knows that I’m here, Msindisi was with her when I called.
“And leave me here?” I ask.
“We can go together,” he says.
Unbelievable!
“I thought you wanted this?” I can’t believe he’s
choosing his stepmother’s tears over my good coochie.
“I want you. Look at this.” He shows me his erection.
“When we come back I promise, I will be fully inside you
until your legs tremble. I just have to see what’s
bothering ncane, I don’t want her to cry just after losing
her husband.”
I’m fighting a losing battle. No number of kisses is going
to make up for this. MaMkhwanazi is doing this on
purpose, she knew that her tears would work on him.
“Nale,” he lifts up my face.
I’m getting in bed, with my clit throbbing and moist
coochie. MaMkhwanazi wins!

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 28
NALENHLE

He came back after midnight. I have really grown, I

applaud my maturity, because the old Nalenhle would’ve
saved her last crumb of dignity and left. But I covered
my horny ass and slept here. He’s awake now and he
thinks I’m going to open my legs for him after he walked
out on me last night.
“Nale are you awake?” He's rubbing his thing against
me. His hands are all over my ass.
“Yes,” I say, shifting away from him.
He chuckles. Great mood!
“Why are you running away?”
“Why are you touching me?”
“Because you’re beautiful. Can I…?” He shifts, closing
the space I created between us.
“What’s wrong?” he asks when I push him away.
I’m trying to be a better person, I don’t want to say
hurtful things to people. But this one deserves a few
insults, because what does he take me for?
“You really think I’m going to let you touch me after what
you did?”
He frowns, “What did I do?”
“Didn’t you abandon me for your mother yesterday?”
“But it was a family emergency, I thought you
understood. I even asked you to come with me and you
chose to stay behind.” He’s really stupid if he thinks I
was okay.
“You made feel ashamed and cheap. No woman
deserves that, if you were not ready to have sex with me
you could’ve just said so, not to leave me like a dirty
whore and run home because a 50 year old woman was
crying.”
“She’s not 50,” he interjects.
“I don’t care. It’s either you want to be with me or you
want to be your mother’s tear-wipe. Because clearly you
have to choose, I won’t be disrespected Nzalo, you’re
not going to make me feel less valuable.” I worked too
hard to build up my confidence I’m not going to let a
mama’s boy make me doubt myself.
“I feel like you are fighting with me. And asking me to
choose between you and ncane is ridiculous. You can
raise your concerns without threatening our relationship,
that’s not fair,” he says.
“What is fair Nzalo? What you did yesterday?” I ask.
He releases a deep sigh. “I really didn’t think things
through, I can see how it must’ve came as an insult and
I apologize for that. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I
love you and the only reason I haven’t initiated sex is
because I wanted you to be ready.”
“I hear you, but I was ready yesterday, not today,” I say.
He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me, not
sparing me a blink.
My phone rings, it’s Msindisi. A bit strange, we don’t just
call each other, let alone at 6am in the morning.
“Your brother is calling me. Is your phone off?” I ask.
“No, maybe he wants you,” he says.
I’m hesitant, but I answer. Guess what, it’s not Msindisi
but the famous ncane.
“I almost trusted you Nalenhle,” that’s her. She’s not
greeting me, not asking if I’m comfortable talking to her
so early in the morning.
“How long have you been scheming with Xolani?”
I’m shocked, to say the least. “I don’t understand.”
“I know that you have been going behind my son’s back,
scheming with his uncle over madness. Did you know
Thobile?” She’s very angry and I can’t have my day
ruined by the Hadebes so early in the morning.
I drop the call, Nzalo has sat up.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
I get out of bed. I’m ready to go, this chaos is not for me.
I have a lot going on in my own family.
“You told your stepmother,” I’m calm as I can be.
“It wasn’t to set you up, I was just venting,” he says.
“Go and vent to her again, I’m gone.” I’m not even going
to take a shower. I’m requesting a cab and going to my
place. I love him, God knows I do. But I can’t tolerate
this, it won’t work if he doesn’t create boundaries with
MaMkhwanazi. I’m not in a relationship with her, so I
don’t expect her to confront me about my relationship
quarrels.
“Nale, wait!” He grabs my arm and pulls me back. “I’m
begging you, let’s talk about this.”
Grabbing someone and restricting their movements is
not begging. He’s forcing me to stand and listen to him
whereas I’m not interested in his apology or whatever.
“I was wrong and you have every reason to be mad. I
wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have…”
“I don’t care Nzalo. You were thinking, this is who you
are,” I’m not interested, I want to leave.
“It’s not who I am, I should’ve thought things through.”
He’s lying, he did think things through.
“This is exactly why your uncle started an investigation
behind your back. He knew that you don’t care about
your real mother, and you’re proving him right. What’s so
bad about him trying to get to the bottom of your
mother’s death?”
“I didn’t say it’s bad,” he says.
“So why did you need to vent if it’s not bad?”
“Because he went behind my back,” he says.
“How long have your mother been dead? What
questions did you ask after her killer suddenly died?
Moved out of her house, went to live with her husband’s
new woman and forgot about her. Now you are angry
because someone is doing what you failed to do for your
mother.” I can’t believe I’m actually defending Mr X. Not
so long ago I was on MaMkhwanazi's side. It takes
nothing from the abuse she says she suffered, this time
Mr X hasn’t done anything wrong.
He lets go of my arm. “I’m not going to argue with you
on that matter because you don’t know how far we’ve
come. My uncle is probably digging for something he
can use against ncane.”
“Are these your words or MaMkhwanazi? Does he think
your mother’s death investigation is about her?” I don’t
think I’ve met more self-absorbed individuals.
He can’t answer, MaMkhwanazi definitely said this,
she’s making this about her and not about Thobile’s
justice. I’m just surprised that Nzalo would also think her
mother’s death investigation is to make his stepmother
look bad.
.
.
.
Zola is home, she’s really getting less driven about
making her own money. I understand that working is not
something anyone wants to do, if living didn’t need
money most of us wouldn’t bother. But before Mr X she
had goals, she was going to buy her own car and gets
Thami to college. Mr X is not motivating her to be her
best individual and it will be too late when she realizes
how comfortable she’s gotten with him doing things for
her.
“Are you going to work today?” I ask.
“Hello to you too Nale. How was your night?” She’s
dodging the question.
I sit down and grab the box of cookies from her. I left
Nzalo's house without eating.
“Horrible!” I say.
“What happened?”
“Didn’t I offer him sex and got turned down?”
Her pupils dilate, she’s shocked.
“Not right away, he was ready for it, I was getting the
condom really excited. Then boom, MaMkhwanazi
called him crying and he left me right there. I never
thought our first time attempting to have sex would end
like that.”
“You’re lying! First time?” She’s more shocked.
This is the longest I’ve ever gone dating a guy and not
having sex with him.
“You guys have never...?” She does a sex hand gesture.
“No, we’ve never,” I say.
“But you’re always spending nights together.”
As unbelievable as it may sound but even the lie
detector would agree with me.
“We sleep facing different directions or just cuddle,” I
say.
“Why? There’s no sexual attraction?” She looks rather
worried.
I laugh, “We were just getting to know each other better.”
“I was going to feel bad for him. Now, why was
MaMkhwanazi crying? Was she getting attacked by
robbers or what?”
I roll my eyes, “She was missing their father.”
“Doesn’t she have widow support groups? She’s weird,
together with Nzalo.”
“Exactly! I told him to choose because I’m not going to
come second to MaMkhwanazi. Knowing that I can be
left dry whenever she decides that she needs him over. I
have plenty guys asking me out, I’m not desperate.”
“But she’s unfair to him,” she says.
“No, she didn’t drag him out. He’s old enough to know
how to balance out his relationships. Msindisi was there
with her, I don’t know what made him think
MaMkhwanazi was more important than me. Or she’s
giving him something I’m not giving him?”
Zola’s mouth drops open. “Don’t say that! I don’t
think…gosh, my mind. I can’t even imagine it.”
It might sound crazy but the world is a wicked place.
What other good reason was there if Nzalo wasn’t going
to get something even better?
Anyway, I need to take a bath and head to work. I might
grab a drink on my way back. It’s been a long time since
I let loose, being with Nzalo has made me start behaving
like a housewife.
.
.
.
My relationship with MaKhoza has grown for the better.
Even though she’s a cold person, I also think I’m the
type that judges people. I don’t like her as my line
manager but I like her as a mother and a woman. I love
her stories during lunch break, I love how uptight she
looks even when she’s being funny. I want to grow up
and be like her, she’s my new role model.
“I can’t wait to see her tomorrow,” I think out loud.
The guy next to me looks at me and chuckles. “It goes
down very well when it’s icy cold.”
I don’ like small talks, with strangers in particular. We are
not drinking buddies, we are just on the same table
because the rest are full.
“I have never seen you around here. Do you come
often?” He really wants my attention.
The voice comes behind him, “No, she doesn’t.”
I lift my eyes to Mr X. In the same place, at the same
time again? Last time we met like this he made me cry
at a stranger’s funeral. I had no ill feeling towards him
back then, I even thought he had a great voice and
smelled really nice.
“Hi,” he says, now you can feel the tension between us
from a distance.
“We meet here again. Waiting for a client?” I’m trying to
be cool with him.
“No, I was just checking in,” he sits.
I don’t know when the guy left. Him and I haven’t seen
eye to eye ever since I carried out that crying gig and he
ended up blocking me after I got into the mess.
“Nice to see you again. Who broke your heart this time?”
he asks.
“Nobody,” I shrug.
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“I’m just having a drink, I had a long day at work.” It’s
really not that hard to understand.
I wanted peace, I didn’t want any Hadebe on my face.
“Should I call Nzalo to come and pick you up?”
This is it, I’m reporting him to the manager. I raise my
hand for the bartender.
He comes over, Mr X is just staring at me.
“Can I help?” the bartender asks.
“Please get this mature gentleman another table.”
He looks at Mr X, then back at me. It doesn’t look like he
understands what I just said.
“Him,” I point at Mr X.
“Siya gets back to work,” Mr X says.
And just like that, my case is unattended.
Is this how they treat their high profile customers here?
Oh no, wait!
I look at Mr X, “Do you know own this place?”
“No, a good friend of mine owns it.” How modest!
I’m so stupid, I should’ve known, he fuckin’ owns it.
“I need a favor,” he says.
No, not happening again! I don’t care what it is.
“I don’t like you,” I remind him.
“I’m not asking you to like me, I’m sure you have
reasons that you’ve validated for not liking me. It’s for
the ongoing case, you know which,” he says.
Can I get away from the Hadebe drama? Sigh.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Keep Nzalo busy, keep him away from his mother.”
“MaMkhwanazi?” I ask.
“Yes, keep him away from her,” he says.
I’m tipsy, I just break into laughter. I won’t lie though, it’s
very cute that he thinks I can do that.
“I’m sorry Mr X, but I can’t do it. Nzalo loves
MaMkhwanazi way too much. He’d rather dump me than
to stay away from her,” I tell him.
“I told him everything, just about an hour ago, he came
to fight me. I know he’s going to tell her everything,
that’s why I need you to keep him distracted,” he says.
“Him and I are not even on talking terms. We had a fight
last night about her, Nzalo left me at night and went to
her because she called him crying. There’s no way I can
do this one, I will lose him.” I hate losing, I know this one
won’t favour me.
“You had them going to Thobile’s house, cooking and
spending time there. You can make them do anything,
you just have to acknowledge how powerful your voice
is over them,” he says.
“Mr X, I’m telling you, Nzalo will never stay away from
MaMkhwanazi,” I wish he can listen to me and drop this.
“It’s either that or this whole investigation is a waste of
time. MaMkhwanazi has been in contact with Mazwi’s
family, deep down in your heart you know that she’s not
a good woman, she just twisted your mind a little bit to
have a soft spot in your heart using your traumas.”
“I really don’t want to keep getting involved in your family
drama. What if he’s already told her?” I ask.
“He hasn’t, he’s with Nokuzola right now waiting for you
to come back so that he can fix things with you,” he
says.
He’s putting me in a very difficult position and from how
he moved after the last gig, I shouldn’t be doing any
more favours for him. But I do want justice to be served.
“Alright, I will try,” I say.
“Thank you very much, I will take care of your bill.” He
stands up, fixes the collar of his white shirt and steps
away.
“How is Robyn?” I ask.
Zola will hate me for this.
He bats his eyes twice, “Pardon?”
“Miss Robyn, how is she?” I repeat.
“I believe she’s fine wherever she is.” His tone becomes
thicker and deeper.
I bless him with a smile, he returns a frown. I’m just
giving him the heads-up, Zola is not someone that gives
second chances, if he messes this up it’s done, no more
food deliveries for us.
I have to go and hear what Nzalo has to say for himself.
.
.
.
ZOLA

I don’t think he is everything the current situation makes

him to be. I can see the remorse in his eyes.
Unfortunately Nale overreacts to situations, I knew when
the clock hit 6pm and she wasn’t here that she passed
somewhere to have a drink. That’s the heartbroken
Nale, the Nale we had before he came along. She’s
been very stable and focused since she got involved
with him, more than anything that’s why I like him.

My phone beeps, it’s a text from Xolani. He just saw

Nale in a pub and he wants me to know that he loves
me with all his heart. This is very sweet of him, I send
him hearts then try to call Nale. It’s getting late and it’s
not really that safe on the streets since she’s using
public transport.
“I’m on my way!” she screams on the phone.
She’s definitely drunk.
“She’s on her way,” I tell Nzalo.
He sighs, “Thank God! I can’t believe I pushed her into
darkness again. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Maybe you need to create boundaries, like your family
can’t call you when you’re with your partner unless
there’s an emergency,” I say.
“Probably, but ncane is fragile, she will feel some type of
way and I really don’t want to offend her. She raised my
sister and Msindisi, she really came through for us.”
“But that’s what a good wife does, especially if she
married a man who just lost his wife. You don’t owe her
anything but gratitude. My cousin is dramatic, if you
don’t draw the line this will turn out ugly.” Nale was
already talking about other guys who are asking her out,
this relationship could bloom but all that lies in how
Nzalo carries himself as a man.

The door opens, this means she was already close by.
“You didn’t go to work again?” She’s walking in.
I’m still waiting for a shift change, I informed my
management that I no longer want to work at night. I’m
waiting for them to come back to me with a solution.
“No, I didn’t,” I say.
She throws down her bag, completely ignores Nzalo.
It’s weird when they’re fighting, I’m always in the middle
of it. She’s my cousin and Nzalo is a really cool guy, and
Xolani’s nephew on top of that.
“I asked Mr X about Robyn, has he said anything?”
WTF? I told her I want to deal with this in a very calm
manner. I’m not her, I don’t do things like that. This
explains his text message.
“You’re so annoying. I didn’t ask you to do that,” I’m
mad.
But she’s a bit tipsy, she’s laughing at me. Even if they
were doing something behind my back now they will be
extra careful because of her loose mouth.
“I wanted to see how he’d react and he looked shaken,”
she says.
“Nale, your whole relationship is threatened by a granny,
yet you’re all over my business. You want to confront
Xolani about Robyn but you can’t ask Nzalo here,
straight up, if there’s anything going on between him and
MaMkhwanazi.” I don’t see her putting the same energy
in her relationship.
“Whaaat?”- Nzalo, in shock.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 29
NALENHLE

Nzalo has flipped the script, now he’s mad at me. But
guess what, I don’t care. Zola is also mad at me for
asking Mr X about Robyn, protective mother hen. She
wants to wait until he comes home with a lipstick on his
shirt. I can’t deal with all this drama.
“You can’t sleep,” he says.
I open my eyes, “Why not?”
“Because I asked you a question. Do you think I’m
sleeping with my mother?”
“She’s not your mother, shut up!” I want to sleep.
He shuts his eyes, his jaw twitches. Then he takes a
deep breath.
“Don’t ever use that tone with me, I don’t drink alcohol.”
He stands up and puts his jacket on.
He’s now more angry than I thought, fuelled by me
telling him to shut up. What I don’t understand is what
alcohol has to do with any of this? What did it do to him?
.
.
.

I wake up and check the time. It’s 15 minutes earlier

than my alarm. Damn, I slept on the couch. My neck is
killing me. I can’t believe Nzalo didn’t take me to the
bedroom. Umh, where is he?
Zola comes out of her bedroom with a broom.
“Nzalo left?” I ask.
She’s humming a song, walking past me without
acknowledging me.
What’s up with the attitude?
“Did you go to work?” I ask.
No answer.
I guess we are beefing again.
“What did I do?” I don’t remember shit, I was drunk.
“You told Xolani about Robyn, now for sure he knows
that I have a problem. It wasn’t your place, I told you that
I was going to watch until I’m sure what’s going. Now I
look insecure and stupid.” She’s on a full rant. I don’t
even remember what exactly I said to Mr X.
“I’m sorry, but I’m sure I meant well. I’d never do
anything to harm your relationship,” I say.
“Oh please!” She doesn’t believe me.
“Did I talk to Nzalo?” I ask.
“I told him that you think he’s sleeping with
MaMkhwanazi, he got angry and you really didn’t care. I
don’t know when he left but I know he was also fed up,
just like I am.”
So I was ruining relationships yesterday? That’s all I did.
I don’t remember my conversation with Mr X in details
but I remember what he asked me to do. I came home
on a mission, I wasn’t supposed to let Nzalo go home
angry. Now there’s a possibility that he’s told
MaMkhwanazi everything.
“Mr X asked me to keep him distracted.” I have messed
this up.
“And you’re keeping him stressed,” she says.
This is a mess. My phone? I look for it in my bag, luckily
I didn’t lose it.
I call his phone, silently praying that he picks up.
“Hey,” he answers.
“Hey…umh, where are you?” I’m so nervous, he called
me the garden lady the last time we fought.
“I’m at the gym,” he says, surprisingly very calm.
I look at Zola. What should I say? She just gives me a
plain stare.
“I’m sorry about last night. Can I take you out for
breakfast?”
Zola’s eyes widen. I’m definitely going out of my monthly
budget, no where did I stash extra cash to take a man
out.
“Yes,” he agrees.
“Pick me up in an hour, whatever restaurant you choose
it’s on me.” God I pray he at least chooses Pie City to
grab a mutton pie and juice.
“What if he already went to MaMkhwanazi?” I’m
stressed, I could be wasting my maturity and money on
this guy.
“I talked to him last night, unless MaMkhwanazi renewed
her spell on him, he didn’t go to her house,” Zola says.
“You think she put a spell on him?” I’m gobsmacked.
“I’m joking,” she rolls her eyes. “But what if she did?
Nzalo was ready to chop you into pieces for
embarrassing her at the funeral but when it comes to his
own mother he doesn’t even care whether the sun
comes from east or west. He was grown when she died,
tell me any sane first-born son, a prince of his mother’s
womb, who’d close his mother’s beautiful house and go
warm another woman’s own.”
“It’s weird, they literally jump whenever she calls and go
to her. One time Msindisi left because she’d seen a
lizard. She knows they adore her and she manipulates
them.” I should’ve paid more attention to it. Zola may be
wrong about the spell thing but MaMkhwanazi is
definitely taking advantage of Thobile’s children’s love
and vulnerability towards her.

She’s waiting for breakfast delivery. Mr X is making up

for whatever happened last night. I’m going to take a
break from alcohol and deal with my problems heads-
on.
My phone rings, it’s my uncle.
Zola was supposed to go home for that ritual we talked
about and she didn’t go. I also didn’t go, there’s a lot
going on. I don’t know what I’m going to tell him so I just
ignore.
Zola comes back, not only with a breakfast basket but
with a man in a suit also. Mr X, if I’m not mistaken this is
the first time he steps inside our house.
“Good morning,” he greets, his other hand is holding
Zola’s.
“Hi,” I’m still in the clothes I wore yesterday, lying on the
couch where I slept.
“She passed out but they are going out for breakfast,”
Zola becomes my mouth piece.
“I didn’t pass out but thanks. I have to take a bath.” I
leave them to have space to kiss and blind each other
with money gifts and sweet words.
.
.
.
ZOLA

I’m still mad at Nale but she was drunk, so it won’t hold
anyway. Xolani is here, looking worried. He was
assuring me all night that he loves me. Something I
haven’t said I doubt. It’s making him look guilty in my
eyes, because why is he panicking if there’s nothing
going on.
“Can we talk in the car?” he asks after Nale leaves.
“Yeah, sure.” I leave my breakfast on the table.
It’s Saturday but he’s got a meeting to attend. He looks
handsome in his slim fit suit, smelling good and
deceptive. We get inside the car, he starts by softening
me up with a deep kiss.
“I miss you, the house is very cold without you,” he says.
“But I can’t be there everyday.” I’m smiling, even though
there’s something suspicious going on I can’t deny the
love in his eyes when he’s looking at me.
“You can be,” he says.
“Really? How?” I ask.
“I can have a conversation with Thabethe,” he says.
I laugh out loud. “You don’t know my dad.”
He’d never allow something like that to happen, let alone
now that he’s got all the wrong impressions about who
Xolani is.
“I’d know him if you allow the conversation to happen,”
he says.
“Well, you can try but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I say.
He smiles, “Don’t worry, I won’t go there myself.”
A moment of silence passes. His smile disappears, he’s
still staring at me.
If he doesn’t say anything, I’m not going to say anything
either.
“Are we 100% okay?” he asks.
“Yes, we are,” I say.
He takes a deep breath, “I love you, Nokuzola. But I
have a past just like everyone else. I’d expect you to let
me know if you’re uncomfortable with something or not
happy so that I can make changes. We cannot do this if
you’re going to boil things up.”
“I’m confused Xolani, what are you talking about?” I ask.
“I’m asking if there’s anything making you
uncomfortable, you can be honest with me,” he says.
“No. Is there anything you think I’m not comfortable
with?” I ask.
“Maybe Robyn, I know you had some concerns, which I
thought I cleared at the time. So I don’t know if you’re
still not satisfied.” He’s a smooth talker, I will always give
him his flowers.
“I’m okay, you said she’s helping you with the case,” I
say.
“You’re impossible!” He sighs, leaning back against the
seat looking frustrated.
Maybe he has something to tell me because there’s
nothing on my side. I have been very peaceful and
minding my own business.
“As soon as this is over she won’t need to be in contact
with me. She has her own businesses that she’s
running, I honestly asked her for this task because I’ve
known her for quite a long time. I know her personally, I
know she wouldn’t betray me.”
“Mmmm,” I nod, understanding what he’s saying. He’s
known her, personally, for a very long time but he calls
her Miss Robyn when they’re in front of me as if their
relationship is formal.
“You can ask me questions if you have any,” he says.
I laugh, “Xolani are you okay? You’re acting very weird.”
“I know you’ve said some things to Nale, maybe you
don’t trust me.”
“I trust you, you haven’t given me any reason not to,” I
say.
“Thank you,” he sighs with relief.
I side-eye him. “So, how personal do you know her?”
He frowns, “Who?"
"Robyn, how personal is your relationship?”
“Oh, we have some mutual friends,” he says.
“I will say this again Xolani, I’m going to be your safe
space. I have opened my heart for you, I love you and I
will stand with you through thin or thick. I’m a very calm
person, I use my head and I always think before I
talk….”
He doesn’t let me finish, “I won’t change that, I promise.
Nothing has ever happened between her and I since
you and I got together.”
Wow! I’m dumbstruck.
“I’m committed to you,” he says.
“But something was happening before me, so basically
you’re working with your ex on this investigation?” I ask.
“We were not together so she’s not my ex. We casually
hooked up, I was alone, I needed company from time to
time. Right now I swear nothing is happening and
nothing will ever happen again,” he says.
I believe him but I don’t know how to feel. If they hooked
up to me they’re exes. He still has his ex in his life, she
calls him anytime of the day and request that they meet
up. I trust him but I don’t trust her.
“Your lip is trembling,” he says.
I fold it between my teeth and look at him.
He smiles, “You’re so beautiful. Sometimes I pat my own
shoulders and congratulate myself, I really chose well, I
will have beautiful babies.”
“Uyazincengela nje,” I know him.
“Maybe I am, but you’re beautiful either way. I hope
Thabethe won’t be too hard on me.”
“Wait, are you serious about meeting my dad?” I thought
he was just pulling my leg.
“I’m too old to fool around Nokuzola,” he says.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I know as soon as I see the beach and white people

pulling up next to us that he’s fucked me up. They are
going to charge me for the food, looking at the beach
through their windows, listening to the soft music playing
and for simply breathing. We haven’t talked about what
happened, he’s talking to me but his mood is dark.
We get a seat, even our waitress is white, all my money
is gone here.
“Can I have a cup of cappuccino while looking at the
menu?” he asks the waitress.
I’m stuck on “while looking at the menu”, does this mean
he’s going to order another cup later?
I choose toast, egg and pork sausage. It’s the cheapest
breakfast on the menu. On his side I don’t know what is
taking so long. His cappuccino arrives, he still needs two
more minutes before submitting his order.
I’m just a general worker who doesn’t have a dad. I have
a book ID, my life already has a lot of challenges, I hope
he takes that into consideration.
He calls the waitress, I’m expecting to hear him ordering
muffins.
“Creamy chicken livers on toast, smoked salmon trout,
grilled tomatoes and…”
This is it, I’m finished! Salmon on top of chicken livers.
“Two fried eggs. I will have another cup of cappuccino,”
he adds.
Even the waitress is dizzy when she leaves our table, he
just ordered the whole kitchen.
“You sure eat a lot,” I say, in pain.
“I’m a man, I have to eat,” he says.
A moment of silence passes. He’s looking at his phone.
“I really wanted to apologize about yesterday, that’s why
I brought you here. I overreacted and said things I
shouldn’t have said,” I say.
“Do you really think I’m sleeping with ncane?”
“Umh, not really. But you have a weird relationship,” I
say.
“I feel like what you did and said was unnecessary. I
could’ve understood if you just said it to me but you said
it to Zola, how do you think that makes me look?”
“Trust me, Zola will keep her mouth shut, I was just
ranting,” I say.
“You went overboard,” he says.
“I know and I’m sorry. Did you tell her?”
He frowns, “Who?”
“MaMkhwanazi. Did you tell her about our argument
and what your uncle is doing?”
“No, I went to my house and slept,” he says.
“You’re growing up!” I softly clap for him.
“Stop making me look like a spineless boy.” He’s
offended.
But I’m truly proud of him, there’s progress.
“I’m sad about how things turned out the other night. I
did a lot of introspection and I realized my mistakes. Can
I make it up to you, tonight?”
“Yes, but on one condition,” I say.
“Anything,” he says.
“The bill is on you.”
He finally laughs. I’m not joking though, he needs to pay
for this breakfast, I didn’t bring the right card anyway. I
have

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 30
NALENHLE
I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited about sex. I’m
looking forward to it, that’s why I requested a cab and
came to town after he dropped me off. I’m looking for a
sexy lingerie and some Stoney to drink. It’s always been
my favorite drink, I like it more with black halls. I don’t
know where Zola went with Mr X, they’re probably
making out somewhere in his luxurious properties. She
would’ve helped me choose the right colour. Sex freaks
define red as affection-seeking, passionate and ready to
be dominated. It resonates more with my mood for
tonight, unlike black that symbolizes a tigeress, open to
BDSM and taking lead. I want no BDSM bullshit and I
definitely don’t want to take any lead. I have a problem
with my waist, it doesn’t move the way it’s supposed to
move so I stay away from woman-on-top. I decide to
take the red one, hopefully this man will give me plenty
orgasms. We have waited for a very long time. I feel like
a virgin in a way, I haven’t had sex in over two months.
Maybe a second-hand virgin.

I grab a snack and head home. I want to fit it and

practice my sexy screams in advance. I try getting hold
of Zola but her phone rings unanswered. A very useless
cousin! I could’ve used someone’s opinion.
The taxi drops me off, I cross the road and when I raise
my eyes I almost faint. My uncle in flesh! I ignored his
call in the morning, I sent him to voicemail and
blueticked his wife’s texts. I can’t bluetick him in person
and one thing I know for sure, he’s not here to play with
us.
“Hi malume,” I greet nervously.
“You are alive,” he says in a dry sarcastic manner.
“Umh yes, let’s get inside.” I’m nervous.
My uncle can shout until your ears ache. I know he’s
about to give me some home training.
We get inside, I clear the couch and offer him a seat.
“Should I get you something to drink?” I ask.
“You can sit down,” he says.
I sit, silently reciting a prayer.
“I was going to call you back,” I say.
“When Nalenhle? You know I was expecting you home
yesterday, I told you how important the ritual is, and you
just chose to ignore everyone and go out shopping.”
“I thought Zola was going to come,” I say.
“This needs you, not Nokuzola. If Nokuzola was needed
I would’ve invited her,” he’s mad.
“So you didn’t do it?” I ask.
“Without you? No,” he says.
“I’m really sorry, if I knew it was that important I would’ve
came. Why should I be present? Will it help me find my
dad?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath, “Maybe, who knows!”
“Can we postpone to next week? It’s already Sunday
tomorrow, I’m going to work Monday.”
He nod, “Make sure you come home Nalenhle.”
“Are you sleeping over?” I pray he says otherwise, I
have a very important night planned.
“I will go home early tomorrow morning. Do you have
extra blankets?”
Damn, after all the preparations I’ve mad!
I get him bread and scrambled eggs, with juice.
“Your landlord needs to fix this ceiling, you pay a lot of
money here.” He’s forgiven me, he’s cool now. We are
chatting and laughing.
I hear a car pulling up but I don’t pay attention because
I’m holding a conversation. Well, it’s Zola with shopping
bags weighing down her arms. I would’ve warned her
but she hasn’t been reachable on her phone.
Car keys, expensive shopping and Mr X’s leather
jacket?
She’s in big trouble.
.
.
.
ZOLA

My dad is in town, I’m shocked. I saw Nale’s calls,

maybe she wanted to warn me. I’m just glad Xolani
wasn’t here. I went to Ballito for shopping, he last sent
me money to spoil myself and I didn’t use it. I’m still
using his car, he hasn’t said anything about wanting it
back. I’m not sure how I’m going to explain the situation
to him. The last time I saw him I was climbing in Xolani’s
car, walking out of the family lunch.
“Hello everyone,” I sit down.
Nale’s face sympathizes with me. I don’t know why he’s
here but they’ve probably talked about it.
“How are you?” he asks.
“I’m fine baba,” I’m anxious, he looks way too calm.
“Your mother and I didn’t know that you have bought a
car. Can I see it?”
Nale gets up and excuses herself to her room. I can tell
that he knows that it’s not my car. If I was Nale I
would’ve lied my way out but I’m not creative.
“It’s not mine,” I say.
“Is it a company car or you hired it?”
“None of the above. It’s Xolani’s car.”
For a moment he’s quiet, I can’t tell what his reaction is
going to be.
Eventually he sighs deeply and asks, “What is the
problem Nokuzola?”
“I don’t understand, what is baba talking about?” I ask.
“Your recent behavior, what is the reason behind it? I
don’t understand who you are, you’re doing strange
things I wouldn’t have expected from you,” he says.
“Maybe you should expect strange things from me too
because I’m also a child to you. I’m going to make
mistakes and behave in ways you don’t approve of,” I
say.
“I never said don’t make mistakes,” he says.
“But that’s how you act, like I’m supposed to be perfect
all the time. It’s fine though, I won’t question you
because you’re an elder and I’ve never been a parent
before.” I wasn’t prepared for this conversation, I thought
we’d arrange and sit down with a third person to
mediate.
“I don’t know why you are not happy with me, I believe
when you’re ready you will tell me. But I will say this, it’s
disappointing to see you turning out like this. If Xolani is
the same man who picked you up, then I’m disappointed
in you and mostly I’m disappointed in him. Because
someone his age should know better. I’d never see
someone your age and think of having a relationship
with them. I’d expect someone around my age to look
out for my daughter, not take advantage of her.”
“Dad! He’s not taking advantage of me.” I hate that
Xolani gets misjudged because of his age.
“I’m a man, I know my gender more than you. All this
he’s doing is just to lure in, but you’re a grown girl and I
see you don’t need any advices. Hopefully you will
remember your mother’s teachings and at least not fall
pregnant or get diseases.”
Xolani loves me, I can see it in his eyes, he shows it in
different ways. But I’m not going to convince my father
that, he will see it when he gets to know Xolani, if he
ever gives him a chance.
“Is mom okay?” I ask.
“She’s okay, just worried about you two because you
have the tendency of not answering your phones,” he
says.
“And my aunt?” I ask.
“She’s also okay, stubborn here and there but we
manage,” he says. My dad has sacrificed a huge part of
his life into taking care of his sister. I know at some point
he wanted a lot of children but circumstances didn’t
allow him to have them. My mom has to take care of his
sister 24/7, after Thami they stopped having babies
because it would’ve been a lot of responsibilities.
“I will cook since you are here,” I say.
“You don’t have to burn yourself, Nalenhle gave me
bread.” He knows how much I hate cooking. It’s mostly
the reason why I couldn’t get a man back in the village,
I’m too lazy.
.
.
.
I’m busy cutting veges, someone is at the door. I check,
it’s a delivery guy. Xolani needs to tone it down a bit.
“I have a delivery for Nalenhle Thabethe.”
Oh, it’s not for me. I get inside and call Nale.
I thought it was another Shein delivery but she seems
just as confused.
She takes the parcels and signs. I’m curious to see what
it is. I hope it’s something that’s going to put her in
trouble. Dad is watching TV and he really gifts,
especially from men.
“Did Nzalo send you something?” I ask.
She’s unboxing, too excited to answer. The first one is a
ring light. Nale loves taking pictures, she’s already on
cloud nine. But the sender still remains a mystery.
Next is a box of iPhone. If it was me I would’ve quietly
celebrated and then hid it until dad is gone. But no, not
Nale.
“It’s a 14 Pro Max!” she screams for everyone to hear.
She turns it around, we have to check if the apple is
bitten. Indeed, it’s an original.
“We are going to take pictures,” I say.
“No, I’m going to take pictures,” says the same person
who’s been posing inside Xolani’s car, eating my food
and saving her rent money. Now she wants to enjoy her
gift alone.
“Call him and say thank you,” I advise.
“I think I won these, Nzalo doesn’t buy me things.”
“Did you enter a competition?” I ask.
“Maybe I did and forgot. But let me confirm with him.”
She takes her old phone and calls Nzalo.
She puts him on loudspeaker, unlike me she’s not that
uncomfortable with my dad when it comes to her
personal business. I’m sure he can hear this commotion
but he’s not putting the same energy he put in the car
matter.
“Hey, did you buy me anything and had it delivered to
me?” she asks.
“About a week ago,” he says.
“An iPhone and ring light?”
“Yeah, so you wouldn’t follow the sun direction to take
pictures,” he says.
She laughs, “Oh my word! I’m so happy, thank you so
much.”
She drops the call an looks at the iPhone again. She’s
really surprised.
“I can’t believe this, I never thought I’d be an iPhone and
ring light owner at such a young age!” She’s fighting
back tears. This life has no balance.
When it’s me receiving things from Xolani she starts
preaching about independence and how women easily
lose themselves when materialistic things are involved in
a relationship. But today she’s crying the Nile river
because of an iPhone.
“Are you not scared of losing your independence?” I ask.
“I need to take an insurance for it.” She lifts it to her lips
and kisses.
Hypocrisy! But I’m happy for her. I’m not a camera
person but I will have a good quality picture when I
finally decide to change my profile picture on Facebook.
.
.
.

It’s dinner time, I tried to use less seasoning because

my dad hates certain spices and salt. I wouldn’t call
myself a good cook but at least they are not eating raw
food. Nale is busy taking pictures, that’s what she’s
been doing since the iPhone came.
She turns the camera, “Malume smile.”
“I’m eating Nalenhle,” he doesn’t like camera that much.
Nale takes pictures anyway. We are going to have a
very long night, I tell you.
“Nzalo didn’t even warn me, I would’ve bought new
clothes if I knew he bought me an iPhone,” she blabbers
out of excitement.
Dad raises his brows, “A boy got you this phone?”
I pick my juice and sippppp.
“Umh…did I say that?” she fakes amnesia.
“Delete all my pictures in that phone!”
Nale is too forward, she could’ve easily slept on her
excitement and did all this tomorrow.
“Hawu malume, I won this phone,” she says.
“I said delete my pictures. Is this food I’m eating
sponsored by men?”
I don’t know why he’s looking at me now, this is about
his niece.
“Is this what you two left home for?” He’s directing it to
me.
“But it’s Nale who had a man buying her an expensive
phone.”
“Are you not driving a man’s car also?” He brings that up
again. He can’t just address Nale’s behavior directly.
“I can take the phone back,” Nale says.
“No, you’re sleeping here! You two act like you weren’t
raised properly. You’re now those type of girls that men
blind with money to get what they don’t have. It’s very
disappointing. Susa lento phambi kwami.” He pushes
away the plate half eaten.
He thinks a man bought us grocery. Well, Xolani actually
did. But why is he making a big deal out of it? Mom was
also once someone’s daughter.
“If I could, I’d change my surname,” he says, leaving the
room.
It was all coming great until Nale’s mouth ruined
everything.
“You could’ve just hidden the phone until tomorrow,” I
say.
She glances around and then leans over. “I need to see
Nzalo tonight, I premised him something.”
I’m not getting involved, all the blame will be on me
when her uncle wakes up and doesn’t see her.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 31
NALENHLE

Come high water, come hell, tonigh I’m getting laid. My

uncle is watching TV after throwing a tantrum, his wife
has already blown Zola’s phone up. She’s received a
long lecture about older men. I know I’m not in his good
books but I have packed my overnight bag and
glammed myself up, I’m going to Nzalo’s house. I did tell
my uncle that I’m dating, going for sleep-overs is part of
dating. I’m going to tell him straight up, Zola refused to
cover up if I sneak out.
He looks at me as I walk in, slaying in a red bodycon
dress.
“Is your team winning?” I’m trying to neutralize the
mood.
“No,” he says.
Bad luck for me, his mood is already sour because of
the stupid players. What’s hard about kicking the ball
straight ward until it reaches the net?
“Do you remember when I told you about Nzalo?” I ask.
“I don’t know anyone by that name,” he denies.
“My boyfriend, malume,” I say.
He sighs and shifts his eyes back to the TV.
I know he’s going to rant about it. The difference
between me and Zola is that I’ve been rebellious my
whole life, I’m used to him being scorned.
“He asked me to visit him, it’s his late father’s birthday.
So I might probably not see you when you leave.” I open
my purse to bribe him.
“This is for your taxi fee,” I say.
He looks at it, “I have my own money Nalenhle.”
“Okay, another one. Give it to aunty to buy sugar.” I give
him R50, I know Zola’s mom won’t say no to money,
even if I got it by laying on my back.
“I love you, bye!” I pick my bag and wave at him.
“How are you going at this time?” Now he’s concerned.
“We have cabs here,” I say.
“Still not safe, if that boy loves you as much as you think
he does, he would’ve fetched you here to make sure
that you’re safe.”
“He’s scared of you,” I say.
“Why? Ngidla abantu yini?” He’s asking the obvious, of
course he eats people, that’s why Zola is hiding in her
room.
“Call when you arrive,” he says.
The first step towards healing is acceptance. I smile and
say goodbye.
.
.
.

I had everything planned in my head. This was going to

be romantic and simple, but the process is not straight to
the point. He cooked, for the first time in my life I’m
having dinner with lit candles. There’s a bottle of wine,
very surprising. I thought he didn’t drink at all but he’s
having a very tall glass. It’s a dinner for two, the
atmosphere is too heavy and formal for me. I don’t laugh
too often, so I’ve been told, but I always want to be in an
environment that allows me to giggle as loud as I want.
Here, I feel like I have to talk a certain way and sit like
the Duchess of Sussex.
“Are you okay?” he asks as I down my first glass of
wine.
“Yes, I’m okay,” I say.
“I feel like the mood is right for us to talk about intimacy.
I believe that’s not a topic we’ve touched on before,” he
says and smiles thinly.
We have to talk about it first? I need to refill, fast.
“I’m a private person Nale, I doubt you’d seen me
anywhere for any scandals before the funeral. Privacy is
very important to me. I feel comfortable when I know
that the world is excluded from my personal business.
Mostly the reason why I was hurt when I found out that
you talked to Zola about certain things. But I’m not there,
ang’funi i-relationship ephaphayo.”
“In simpler terms are you saying I shouldn’t post you?” I
have a slow brain, I prefer if people just shoot straight to
the point.
“I want what we have for you and I, not the whole world.
It doesn’t mean you can’t post me, but protect our
private moments, there will be things that I’d only want
for my eyes and yours,” he says.
“Okay, I hear you.” It doesn’t mean I won’t share things
with Zola anymore, but I will make sure that she doesn’t
tell anybody else.
“I want every moment to mean something. I don’t like
doing things for the sake of doing them. Even though
I’ve known you for less than three months, I do enjoy
your company a lot. And I know it’s not infatuation, I
deeply care for you. I want you to be comfortable with
me, to be able to tell me what you want and what you
don’t want.”
“I don’t want you to put your tongue in my ears,” I say
with no hesitation. That thing drives me crazy. One guy
once put his long tongue in my ears then next day my
eardrums were like a radio speaker that has
cockroaches inside.
He smiles, “But you have beautiful ears.”
“I don’t care, just don’t. Also, don’t call me a bitch. I don’t
care what cloud you are in, the ‘come on, fuck me bitch’
will make me knock out your teeth, this is not America,” I
say.
“You know in an intimate moment one can say things
unconsciously?” He’s amused by this whole thing.
“How come no one ever ‘unconsciously’ say their bank
pin?” I ask.
“Because it doesn’t relate to sex,” he says.
“I don’t care, make sure you always remember that no
matter how good it feels, I’m not a bitch.” I don’t want to
be talked down on. A woman can feel good and not be a
bitch, he can say ‘fuck me, queen’, that would be more
romantic.
“Anything else?” he asks.
“Yeah, don’t ask me to come on top.”
“I will, you can kill me if you want. I want to see your
small boobies bouncing on top of me,” he says.
I should’ve listened to my uncle and stayed at home.
.
.
.
ZOLA

Nale left, she called him to let him know that she arrived
safely. Before that he’d been worried about her safety,
his mood improved and he started talking. I’m serving
him tea, he doesn’t rant, he takes it.
“It seems like you will like Nzalo,” I say.
“It will depend on his character, if he’s good and making
her happy,” he says.
“Would the conditions be the same for Xolani?” I ask.
“Untangayethu? My age mate? There’s a lot I don’t like
about your relationship with him.” There he goes again,
being a hypocrite.
“You are never fair, you’re always soft on Nale and hard
on me.” I have said it. I never thought I’d have the
courage.
He’s shocked and his first reaction is to deny. “That’s not
true.”
“You don’t treat us the same,” I say.
“Yeah, probably. You are older than Nalenhle, I have to
hold you more accountable.” He’s on defense mode,
making zero sense.
“I’m only 3 years older than Nale. Even with
accountability aside, you love Nale more than you love
me,” I say.
“Nokuzola!” He puts down the cup of tea.
He’s hurt, his eyes are filled with pain.
“I’m not competing, I’m going to my 30s very soon, I
probably don’t need to be babied by my dad. But also
you don’t need to make it too obvious.”
“Where is this coming from? Because I won’t accept
your relationship with someone who’s almost my age?”
he asks.
“It’s not about that, it’s how I’ve always felt even growing
up,” I say.
“You feel like I don’t love you?” His forehead wrinkles in
confusion.
“You do, just not much,” I say.
“That’s not true, there’s no way I wouldn’t love someone
who made me a father for the first time. I love you, more
than anything in this world. But there are circumstances
that need me to protect your cousin a bit more because I
don’t know what else to do to make her life feel
complete.”
“Because aunty was raped?” I don’t feel like that justifies
the favouritism.
“Nalenhle has always been looking for her dad. I’m the
only person she can cry to and I don’t have her dad. You
know how she can get, at times she’s being pushed by
the ancestors act crazy so that I can do certain things
zomsamu. She’s not a normal child.”
“Nale is very normal, I live with her,” I say.
He takes a deep sigh, “I know she is not, there’s no way
she can be.”
“Why?” I’m confused.
“It has to do with umsamu wakhe, there are a lot of
conflicts.”
“Is that why you invited her alone to the ritual you will all
be doing?”
“Yes, but I have never felt greater joy in this world than
holding you in my arms for the first time. I’m sorry if
you’ve felt unloved along the way. I’m dealing with things
in my journey as a brother and uncle, things that the
world never prepared me for.”
“Do you feel guilty for not being able to help Nale find
her dad?” I ask.
“I feel guilty for not being able to help my sister when
she needed me to. I could have protected her,” he says.
“Maybe not. You couldn’t have guessed that something
was going to happen. Grandma and grandpa were alive
when it happened, they were his parents,” I say.
“I could have, had I paid enough attention. Now I’m
living with a sister who had a traumatic childhood
throughout and living with disabilities. There’s help from
the government but it’s not enough. There’s a lot that I’m
dealing with at home and in my marriage.”
“In your marriage?” I’m confused.
What is he dealing with? They’re happily married.
“It’s not all roses, Nokuzola. But I can’t share things like
that with you.”
“Are you guys fighting?” I want to know.
“There are challenges,” he says.
This makes me sad, I want my parents to be happy.
“Why?” I ask.
“Nokuzola, hhayi bo!” He doesn’t want to tell me.
“Nale thinks you might know some information and
keeping it from her about her mother’s case.” I know he
doesn’t know anything but I just want to confirm so that I
can put Nale at ease.
“I will tell her,” he says.
Whaaaaat?!!!
“You know something?” I’m shocked.
“It’s not something light, I’m still trying to figure out how
I’m going to tell her and how we are going to move
forward as a family.”
Now I will never disagree with someone’s seventh
sense; Nale has been right.
“Is it heartbreaking?” I ask.
He nods, “Yes, it’s heartbreaking.”
“Why wait so long?” I ask.
“Because I thought she’d make peace with it. But it looks
like your grandfather didn’t do enough damage, he
wants his two minutes of fame,” he says.
“How does this concern him?” I’m confused.
“There was no stranger in the house, Nalenhle is a
Thabethe.”
Huh???

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 32
NALENHLE

I’m a bit brave after all the formal sex talk, I had two
glasses of red wine. I help him clear the table, then
watch some TV while he goes to freshen up. I need to
memorize my script; how I will move and talk. I want to
impress, this has to be the best sex he will never forget.
He’s done quicker than I anticipated, I’m not done
planning yet.
“Are we watching TV?” He glances at his phone,
checking the time. “It’s almost 10pm,” he says.
I lift my hand for him to help me up. I’m still in my
gorgeous bodycon dress. He gently holds my waist as
we walk to the bedroom. I’m getting used to his house,
the bedroom is gorgeously set up.

There’s a little red, heart-shaped pillow at the centre of

the bed with rose petals along the white bedding. I didn’t
think this would be a romantic scene.
“Did I tell you how gorgeous you look?”
I smile, “Not that I remember.”
“That’s a crime, you look too beautiful for words.” He
pecks my lips and gently takes my phone out of my
hand. Phones are going to the drawer, maybe he thinks I
will secretly record. I know sometimes I’m a
blabblermouth but I wouldn’t publicize something so
private.
“Should I help you out of this?” he asks, reaching for the
button behind the collar of the dress.
It feels different than I imagined. I’m a bit uptight now, I
don’t like the seriousness he’s coming with. I mean, we
are not a newly-wedded couple having their first sexual
experience in a honeymoon. We are supposed to
fuck…just get into it the illegal way.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks after getting the dress
off.
“Yeah,” I say.
I’m comfortable but things are not going according to my
plans. My lingerie is in my bag. I’ve never worn a lingerie
for anyone so I didn’t know the right time to put it on.
“Do you want to take the lead?” he asks.
“Hell, no!” I’m not doing that.
He’s the man here, a leader. I’m a woman, my area of
dominance is in the kitchen.
He gently grabs my face up and kisses me. His hands
massage what he called small boobies. He’s only
wearing shorts, I’m left in a G-string. We kiss standing
on our feet, then I end up on my back in bed. He moves
his lips down to my navel, his beard giving me tickles as
he rubs his face on me.

He lifts my knees up and gets the G-string out. Then he

sits between my open legs. My coochie is out, I shaved
so I have nothing to be ashamed of.
He pecks my leg. “Do you remember when I said you
were not my dad’s type and you got offended?”
Where is this coming from now?
“Yeah,” I say.
“Well, you are my type.”
I’m blushing. Men really deserve a seat in heaven.
“I’m attracted to you. And that didn’t build on your
appearance, even though I’ve had dirty thoughts about
you, I’m emotionally attracted to you before everything
else. I love how you make me feel.”
“Relax babe, I want this more than you,” I say.
“You don’t want this more than me, trust me.” He comes
up and kisses me.
He’s still keeping his shorts, I’m complete naked. His
hand slides down between my thighs as our lips remain
locked in a steamy exchange.
The kiss breaks, he pecks the side of my neck. “I want
to see you explore your body.”
“Huh?” I’m confused.
“I want to watch you play with yourself, the night is still
young,” he says.
I didn’t expect this. I came here for sex, real sex- his
shaft inside me. But it looks like he wants something
else before we get there.
He kisses me until the doubt in my head dissolves away.
Then he stands up and takes his shorts off. His shaft
springs out, long like a baby arm and pointing up, hard.
“You’re not shy, right?” he asks.
“Me? No.” I’m not shy, I’m just not sure what’s going on.
“I know you are not,” he plants a few kisses on my face
and then grabs my legs apart.
He wants everything on full display.
“Show me your spots,” he says, standing up staring at
my body like I’m a Sunday meal.
“What do you mean?” I’m confused.
“Touch yourself where you want to be touched.”
No, I’m a shy girl. I have never played with myself while
someone is watching me.
He doesn’t wait for me to make up my mind, he pulls my
hand down to my coochie. Our eyes lock, he gently
moves his thumb around my clit. I feel like a high school
girl being with a boy for the first time. I’m cold, shy and
clueless.
Both our hands are on my mound but his fingers are
doing the work. His other hand grabs my boob, gently
squeezing it as he rubs two of his fingers through my
folds. I’m getting wet and once I’m horny the shyness
flies out of the window. He patiently gets me turned on
until my hand starts moving around too, then he lets go.
He stands aside, his hand around his shaft, watching
me.
“You look so good!” he says, gravelly.
My back starts arching, I push one finger into my
opening and stir it around. I hear a deep moan next to
me.
“Take it out babe, let me see,” he says.
I’m disturbed but I do it. My finger comes out wet, he
asks me to open my legs and spread my labia a bit
more. I do it, without a second thought. His jaw tightens
as I put my finger back in and stroke my clit again.
“Aah babe, you’re killing me!” He comes and kisses me.
All I want right now is my orgasm. The self made
orgasm that I have worked hard for, independently.
“Lie straight and cross your legs,” he instructs.
“Nzalo!” I don’t want to be disturbed.
“Please my love,” he begs.
I’m frustrated but I obey.
He slides his fingers down to my clit while my legs are
crossed. He strokes my clit, moaning along with me. I
feel the tingling sensation building up and let my legs
loose.
“Cross your legs,” he says firmly, out of patience.
My body will blow up, but I do it. His clit-tweaking is
faster the second time. It doesn’t take two minutes
before my clit goes on full vibration. I almost fall off the
bed, my coochie is relieved and sticky. He takes
something and tears it open with his teeth.
I’m not fully back when his lips lock on mine. I feel my
legs going up in the air, then something hard fills up my
core. It just slips inside me in one thrust and next thing I
feel is him just enjoying himself.
.
.
.
I wake up to him snuggled on me, I move because I
want to get off bed and go to the bathroom. His eyes
open, he grabs my hand.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” I say.
“Okay, come back when you’re done.”
It’s at night, where would I go?
I pee quickly and go back, it’s freezing cold in the
bathroom. I find him laying on his back, fully awake. He
stretches his arm out, I slide back inside the covers.
“What is the time?” I ask.
“Almost 3am…time for lovers,” he says.
I give him a look, “No, we already had two rounds.”
“Why are we counting?” His hand runs over my boobs.
Three rounds in one night is okay. I give him what he
wants. It’s more intimate than the first two, we are
moving under the covers because it’s cold at this time.
He’s on top of me, moving gently and clasping my other
hand. This is love-making, it feels like our souls are
entwined. His navel rubbing against mine, sweat
dropping down on me. He’s sweetly professing his love,
assuring me that I’m his only one and he feels good
inside me.

Waking up to the sun shining through the curtain and

seeing condom foils on the floor that we used is
embarrassing. It was a crazy night, so many condoms! I
can feel it even between my legs that things were
happening. I pick things on the floor on my way to the
bathroom, I throw in the bin and look at myself in the
mirror. My eyes are evident of the lack of sleep.
Tomorrow I’m going to work, I need to use today to give
my body a needed rest.
I get in the shower, use his gel to massage every part of
my body. Then turn the water on, stand under the
shower and enjoy warm water running on my skin.
Extra hands grab my waist. I open my eyes, he’s in the
shower with me.
Wasn’t he asleep?
I didn’t need help, especially help that’s mainly focused
on washing my boobs and ass. His sexual patience is
big as his appetite. It feels like he’s making up for all the
nights that we cuddled and slept against each other.
This time it’s all about him, it’s the quickest round. He
pulls out and finishes the job with his hand. Then we
shower together.
I swear now if he wants more sex from me I will scream
and run, and never look back.
.
.
.

It’s only fitting that he makes breakfast for me, a filling

one. I need energy, if possible he must give me money
for a spa treatment as well. After breakfast I ask that he
takes me to the pharmacy first. My uncle said he was
going to leave in the morning, I’m sure he’s in a taxi
home right now.
We make another stop, he’s getting his coffee. I’m in no
rush, I wait for him to recharge his energy. He doesn’t
look exhausted as I am.
“Am I going to see you later?”
“No,” I say without hesitation.
“Why babe? Last night was short, you came late. I feel
like we need to have a movie date night and maybe go
to babomncane’s casino, I’ve never been there before.”
I’m shocked even though I shouldn’t be. He’s really not
that close with Mr X.
“Have you talked to him about the investigation?” I ask.
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. I don’t know
what to believe,” he says.
“If he provides evidence that there was a foul play, how
would it make you feel?” I ask.
“I’d definitely feel like I failed my mother. Maybe I trusted
the wrong people and thought the system would be fair,”
he says.
A part of me prays that MaMkhwanazi is not responsible
and whatever going on is just a coincidence. I know it
will break Nzalo because they have a weird, strong
bond. I don’t even want to talk about Msindisi, that’s his
queen.
“I just don’t understand why she’s never visited us in our
dreams. I’ve never had a single dream about her, yet
she showed up in your dreams and you don’t even know
each other.”
“Maybe you’re not accessible,” I say.
“How? I also sleep at night, I do dream about other
things. I have dreamed about my father, why not her?”
This worries him more than I thought.
“Maybe she does but you wake up not remembering
anything, that happens if your spirit is not clean and
pure,” I say.
He frowns, “My spirit is dirty?”
“It doesn’t mean you’re demonic, maybe there are things
you need to fix spiritually. My uncle knows these things, I
would’ve asked him on your behalf but you’re not his
favorite person yet. He hated that you didn’t fetch me
yesterday, he said you don’t care about my safety.”
He frowns, “But you said I shouldn’t come, I was coming
to pick you up.”
“I didn’t tell him that,” I say.
“You are the problem,” he says.
“Oh, the same problem you want to see again?”
He smiles, “Yeah, my beautiful problem. You really made
Hadebe happy yazi.”
This conversation will be too intimate for this coffee
shop.
“Let’s go,” I say.
“I wouldn’t fuck you in a coffee shop, at least not during
the day with people around us.”
“Nzalo, let’s go!”
He chuckles and stands up.
.
.
.
I don’t know if I’m delusional and seeing things that don’t
exist or that’s really my uncle outside the door. He said
he was going to leave early in the morning. What is he
still doing here?
“Is that Thabethe?” Nzalo asks.
“Yeah,” I say.
He’s looking at the car, we cannot reverse and park
somewhere out of his sight.
“Should I just go? I don’t know what’s disrespectful and
not,” Nzalo asks me.
“I don’t know, maybe let’s go and greet him. If he beats
you, he beats you,” I say.
“Huh?” His eyes widen.
“He’s my uncle, obviously he won’t kill you, he's never
killed anyone before, he only broke a man's jaw long
time ago. Even if you get injured you have medical aid
mos, you will go to a private hospital and get premium
help.” I don’t see what the problem is here.
I open the door and climb out with my bag. My uncle is
watching, a part of me feels like he was waiting for me to
come home before he leaves. He’s a caring uncle.

Nzalo is behind me, I can’t believe he’s so tall and

scared of a mere beating.
“Morning malume,” I say.
His eyes are on Nzalo behind me.
“This is Nzalo Hadebe,” I say.
Silence…
Nzalo clears his throat, “Sawubona malume.”
“Yebo, how are you?” he says.
I release a deep sigh of relief. This is going well.
“I’m good, thanks for asking,” -Nzalo.
“How was your father’s birthday celebration?”
Oh no, I didn’t brief Nzalo.
“I’m not sure I know what you are referring to,” he says.
My uncle nods, then looks at me and smiles. It’s not a
genuine smile, he’s always reprimanded me about my
high quality lying skills.
“I’m sure I’m confusing something else, it happens when
you’re old like me. It’s nice to see you dropping her off
and seeing that she gets home safely,” he says.
Nzalo nods, says goodbye and leaves.
We get inside the house, I hear him driving away.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop being comfortable with lying?”
“Not that I’m comfortable malume, I needed to say
something for you to agree.”
“It doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t deceive people to get
what you want,” he says.
Morning lecture! I apologize and go to my bedroom to
change.

Zola is up, cuddled on her bed with her phone. There’s a

lot I need to update her about. I close the door and sit
next to her with a deep sigh.
“Why didn’t you tell me he’s still here?” I ask.
“Because he was going to wait for you anyway.” She
puts her phone away and sits up.
“Did you guys do it?” she asks.
“Mzala! I almost called 211,” I say.
“Why?” She raises her eyebrows.
“I needed a break. If that’s how he is, I’m afraid him and
I will be in an open relationship. He will have to find a
second girlfriend, because hhayi bo! Even married
couples don’t do it that much. I’m talking about
husbands who paid lobola.”
She laughs and quickly covers her mouth. “Was it too
much?”
“I’m telling you, I hardly slept a wink, I need my bed right
now," I say.
“But if you go to bed Dad will know that you weren’t
sleeping last night. Imagine that shame, an elder seeing
that you’re tired because a man opened your legs the
whole night.”
She has a point. I know nobody thinks I’m a virgin but I
don’t want my uncle to start picturing me doing unlawful
deeds.
“When is he leaving?” I ask.
“After 12pm,” she says.
“I have to keep busy and make it look like I had enough
sleep last night.” I’m going to redeem myself, he will be
sure that my sleepover was innocent.
“Just do laundry,” Zola says.
She’s right, I will fill the bathroom tub with laundry.
“Please include mine, I will return the favor too.” She is
now milking the situation.
I collect laundry and make sure it’s piled up and almost
spilling off the basket.
He’s watching TV, I pass with a full basket.
“Do you need me to wash anything for you?” I ask.
He looks up, “No, thank you.”
“I’m going to wash and iron, then clean the house.”
“Mmmm,” he shifts his eyes back to the TV.
My body is against this thing I’m doing. If I don’t get any
rest it might break down.
I throw all the clothes on the bathroom floor and lie
down. I just need this little nap then I will be on top of my
game

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 33
ZOLA

I had a heavy night, I don’t know what stresses me more

between Nalenhle’s paternity issue and my parents’
marriage. I tried talking to Thami on Whatsapp, trying to
find out what’s really happening at home, but he’s a 16
year old, he only worries about data and soccer. This
doesn’t sit well with me, I want my parents to be happy.
So I call my mom, I know dad isn’t home yet.
“Hello,” she answers.
My mother yells when she’s talking on the phone.
“Ma can we talk?” I ask.
“Yes. Is your father still there?”
“No, he’s on his way. Are you alone?”
“Yes, I’m doing laundry.”
“Okay,” I take a deep breath. It may look like I’m poking
my nose in elders’ business whereas I’m just a
concerned daughter. “Dad said something about you
guys not being in a good space. What’s happening?”
“Hhayi-bo Nokuzola, why did he say that? Your father
and I are okay.” She sounds shocked. My relationship
with them is on the surface, not that deep in a way that
we can discuss their marital affairs and boyfriend stuff.
“But dad doesn’t lie, he even looked sad talking about
it,” I say.
“If he’s sad it’s definitely not from me, maybe he’s sad
from other places.” Her statement carries a lot, I’m
confused and I sense bitterness from her end. She
doesn’t care about my dad.
“Are you guys fighting?” I ask.
“Nokuzola, you’re a child, even if your father and I were
fighting you wouldn’t have been the one I talk to,” she
says.
“I’m not a child Ma, I’m going to complete the calendar in
a year. We don’t have to be best friends but we can talk.
You have a daughter, someone who came from your
womb looking exactly like you.” I don’t see why she
should hide things from me. I won’t tell anyone, I never
tell, my chest has a pin code.
“It’s normal marriage ups and downs, nothing for you to
worry about,” she says. Her voice has softened, she’s
cracking down the walls a bit.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can help with. You
guys have been married for two decades, now and
again you might need to reconnect and maybe get some
marriage counseling,” I say.
“We are beyond that stage,” she says.
Now I’m confused, she said it’s normal marriage ups
and downs just a minute ago.
“It can’t be fixed?” I ask.
I hear a heavy sigh. “Nokuzola, you’ve seen my life from
when you were little. I have a lot on my plate. Your
brother, domestic activites, your aunt’s clinic visits and
just looking after her 7 days a week. I don’t have the
energy your father wants me to have. It’s either he
understands that, because all the responsibilities I’ve
had came with the ring he put on my finger, or we just
separate and he finds a woman who will be what he
wants.”
This is heartbreaking, she’s talking like she’s given up. I
don’t have the details because she’s vague, but I think I
have an idea.
“If you guys separate what will happen to the family?” I
ask.
“I will take my son and leave, you’re a grown
independent woman you will be fine,” she says.
“The rest of the family?” I ask.
“If your father doesn’t appreciate what I do for his family
then…I don’t know, it’s up to him. But I can't give more
than I've already given.”
This is beyond me. My insides just turn cold, I’ve always
had a perfect picture of my parents. I hope dad didn’t
cheat on my mother because that will ruin a lot of
relationships within the family.
“He’s coming home, I hope you can sit down and talk in
lengths about this. Is there anything I can do for you
personally?” I ask.
“Yes, send me some money,” she says.
I knew that’s what she’d want, not some comfort words.
“I will probably come with Nale this coming Friday.” I feel
like I need to go home and see what’s going on nyself.
I’m heartbroken, I don’t want it to get to the point where
my mother leaves home. Everybody depends on her,
especially my aunt.
.
..
.
I hear the toile flushing, then the bathroom door opens.
My father needed the bathroom but he couldn’t release
himself while his niece was sleeping on the floor. She’s
just waking up, she didn’t wash anything.
“Where is malume?” she asks.
“He’s already left, he said goodbye,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“Three hours, you were deeply asleep we didn’t want to
disturb you. We could tell you were really exhausted,
you had a busy night,” I say.
“Zola, my reputation! You should’ve done something.”
I laugh, "What reputation?"
Nothing is ever Nale’s fault under the sun, not even her
closing her own eyes and sleeping.
“He doesn’t mind anyway, he likes Nzalo,” I say.
“There’s nothing not to like about him, I need to get my
phone and text him. I really can’t do another night.”
She’s in love and it’s cute to watch. Finally, she owns it
and boldly expresses it.
I trust Nzalo with my cousin’s heart. He really came into
the picture when Nale would need company. Her life will
be shaken this coming weekend, she will finally get the
truth she's always searched for.
.
.
.

S’KHUNDLA THABETHE
He passed by the shops because a man can’t walk in
his house empty-handed when he has a wife and kids.
Even though things have been rocky, when he left
yesterday there was no issue. As he walks in, Thami
walks out with his phone.
He stops him, “Where are you going?”
“I’m going outside, Ma doesn’t want me to play music.
You know her, everything gives her headache,” Thami
says.
“I want to talk to you about something.” He goes inside
the house, greets and leave the bags and then comes
out again. They both step out and stand a few feet away
from the door.

It looks serious, Thami is a bit confused because his

father just arrived.
“Are you happy?” his father asks.
He frowns; he’s confused.
“Kind of,” he says.
“Is it us? Is it me?”
Thami laughs, “Hhayi-bo baba, did you eat space
muffins?”
“I don’t like cakes, you know that. I want you to tell me if
you feel left out or neglected. I know sometimes your
mother and I get caught up in family issues and not put
our all in raising you.”
“No, I’m a big man. Do what you have to do, as long as I
have data,” Thami says.
“Kids! Is that all you worry about?” Thabethe shakes his
head, laughing.
It feels good to know that not both his children have felt
like they aren’t prioritized. Thami takes money for data,
he asks for it every week, then he continues with what
he was doing.
.
..
.
Thabethe goes inside the house, his sister is on the
couch, awake. He updates her about Nale and tells her
she will be home on Friday. His wife doesn’t look okay
but she knows how to pretend for the sake of people.
They eat dinner early, Thami has school tomorrow. He
goes to the bedroom and lies in bed, waiting for his wife
to come. She takes long, sometimes he has to intervene
because Bazamile would refuse to take her medication,
she’s living with cystic fibrosis.

But today his wife was just in the kitchen picking beans,
she walks in an hour later. She changes her slip-on
dress and puts on a night dress. After wrapping her
head she gets in bed, without saying a word.
“Is everything alright?” Thabethe asks.
He’s actually waiting to tell her about what Zola
expressed.
“You talked to a child about our affairs. Really
Thabethe? Is that what you left for? What did you expect
Nokuzola to do other than stressing about us?” She’s
mad, her kids shouldn’t be involved in issues like this.
“I can explain how it got to that point. Apparently she’s
not happy, specifically with me. She thinks I love
Nalenhle more than her, and I understand how she
looked at it. I had to explain why I don’t hold Nalenhle
more accountable for her actions, which is because of
how she was brought into this world.”
Instead of sympathizing with him, Khululiwe shakes her
head.
“Are you surprised?” she asks.
“I am because I thought I was open enough for her to
express her dissatisfaction. It’s something she says
she’s been holding in for a very long time. But we had a
conversation, hopefully there will be more to follow,” he
says.
“I hear you, but I still don’t think you should’ve aired our
dirty laundry to our child, now she’s worried.” She pulls
up the blanket.
“I didn’t say much though,” Thabethe says.
“Well, I did tell her that I’m no longer the wife that you
want,” she says.
He takes a deep breath. “But that’s not true, you know
that I love you. You told me to get another wife because
I raised concerns about the lack of affection between
us.”
“On top of everything I do in this family Thabethe, you
still expect me to come and become a starring in bed. I
can’t take care of your son, your sister and all the
chores, then still have energy to have sex every week.”
“I help Khululiwe, don’t make it sound like I just sit and
leave everything to you. I simply ask for affection, let me
touch you. Last year we had the same responsibilities,
and all the years before, but things weren’t like this.”
“I’m older than I was. And I said get another wife, if you
cannot accept that I physically get tired and need my
husband to hold my hand, without complaining about not
getting enough sex and kisses.”
“Get another wife? You said you’d leave if there’s
another person. That’s why I’m confused. Is it because
you are tired or there’s no love anymore?”
Khululiwe sighs, “We’ve talked about this Thabethe. My
whole life has been about giving to the Thabethes. I
gave all my life to this family. You are still demanding a
piece of me. I’m in my mid-40s, allow me to have a
break.”
A moment of silence passes. She lies, facing the other
side.
Thabethe takes a deep breath. “Is it my sister? Is she a
burden?”
“Don’t do that. I didn’t call anyone a burden, I said I want
to have a break, just for 7 hours or 8,” she says.
“It feels like we are room mates, the only thing that’s left
is for you to request a separate blanket. It doesn’t feel
like we are still married anymore, and that breaks my
heart. I miss you, I wish we can come up with a
resolution. I don’t want anything outside this marriage,
you don’t deserve that. It’s unfair of you to give me such
two impossible options.”
“It’s also unfair of you to expect so much from me. When
will I get a break?” She fights back tears and chooses
not to argue with him furtherly. He never understands
where she comes from. He might help around the house
but there’s little he can do for his sister. It’s her who
helps the most as a woman, there are things he can’t do
as it would be too much of a taboo. So for him to sit here
and act like he shares half of a burden she has is
upsetting. She hardly gets a break unless she’s gone
home, which is never more than two days. Her social
presence is limited, she doesn’t have a big circle of
friends to lean on for support. A year ago she may have
known how to make time for him every night, but it’s now
a year later, she’s in a different space mentally and
physically.
.
.
.

Thami got ready for school and left before his parents
woke up. By the time Khululiwe wakes up the road is
empty, all children are in schools. She warms water and
helps her sister-in-law take a bath. Her husband is still in
bed, their conversation last night didn’t end well. But she
still makes breakfast, sets it on the table for him before
sitting on the couch with Bazamile eating theirs. Her life
is a routine and for the past two decades she’s been
okay with it. Her love for Bazamile cannot be
questioned, she loves her like a blood sister. She loves
and sacrifices a lot. But she never thought it would come
down to her kids as well. Zola sacrificing for Nale to get
enough attention.
Her phone rings, it’s Zola. She’s never been a clingy
child, she became independent at a very young age,
she's someone who keeps to herself most of the times.
Her father shouldn’t have told their marriage issues,
she’s obviously stressed.
“Hello Ma,” she says.
“Nokuzola, how was work?”
“I’m going to start on Wednesday, doing day shift. Is dad
with you?” She’s worried, just like her mother thought.
She wants to know if they fixed things.
“He’s still in bed,” Khululiwe says.
“I don’t know if I should ask how things are. I’m worried.”
“Stop worrying Nokuzola, focus on yourself. How is your
boyfriend?” She doesn’t even like the old man Nokuzola
is said to be dating but if he can keep Nokuzola
distracted, she can embrace him.
“Xolani is fine,” Zola says.
“Is he married?” she asks.
“Ma! Do you think I’d date a married man?”
“Is he not old? I thought he’s married and fooling
around.”
“No, he’s with me. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, just not about your dad and I,” she says.
“He wants me to move in with him. Do you think it’s a
great idea? I told him to ask dad first.”
“That’s a huge step. How long have you been together?”
Zola clears her throat, suspiciously. “About five months.”
“Do you think you know what his intentions are?” she
asks.
“He’s genuine,” Zola says.
“Then listen to your heart. If you feel like moving in with
him will make you happy then try.” Her answer surprises
Zola, she didn’t think she’d have permission this easily,
without Thabethe’s input.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 34
NALENHLE

I cancelled my date with Nzalo on Sunday, I haven’t

seen him in three days. Today is Thursday, yesterday
Zola joined my dayshift team and my work passion
instantly improved. Tomorrow we are going home, so I
decided that I’d make time for Nzalo tonight to make up
for Sunday. I don’t have to take a taxi to and from work,
my cousin has a car. She’s been going through some
stuff that she hasn’t shared with me yet. It’s been days, I
thought she’d tell me what’s eating her up. I mean, we
share everything, at times it’s sickening. There’s nothing
I cannot share with her. She was the first person I told
when I started having my periods, I consulted her before
breaking my virginity over a card and P.S chocolate.
Maybe it’s Mr X and Robyn. I’m very close to strangling
a bitch, and the senior citizen.
“What did they do?” I ask, standing behind her as she
unlocks the door.
She frowns, “Who?”
“Mr X and Robyn,” I say.
“Who is Robyn? Please, she doesn’t exist. I just have a
lot other things on my mind.” The door opens, we walk in
and leave it open to let in some fresh air.
“What things? You were changed to day shift, Mr X
makes sure you are never broke and you have a car to
get you around,” I ask.
“Family things. It doesn’t have to be about a man or
money,” she says.
In my humble opinion, people who don’t have money
problems fake sadness.
“But there’s nothing wrong with our family. Malume
came and you guys talked, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, and I found out his marriage is rocky. Can you
believe it?”
I need to sit down. No, I don’t believe it.
“How so? They have the most solid marriage ever.” I’m
confused.
“Apparently not. My mother was talking about leaving,”
she says.
This is worse than I thought. Her mother leaving is the
end of the family.
“What happened?” I’m worried as she is.
Their marriage is what has kept the family together.
“I don’t know, she didn’t put anything in words. But I’m
going home with you, I hope they will be able to fix
things. My mother taking Thami and leaving is a new
reality, not just for my dad but for all of us.”
“That’s deep.” I understand why she’s been down, this
changes my mood for the weekend.
Beside the family breaking apart, I don’t see how they’d
survive without one another. My uncle has no identity
without his Khululiwe, vice versa. Zola is 29, they’re at
the age where they should be looking forward to having
grandchildren, not fighting.

This gives me more reason to go out and gamble

Nzalo’s money away, if I stay in the house the whole
evening I will overthink and go crazy.
I call her mother before I go freshen up. I can’t ask her
what’s going on, I’m sure she wants to deal with it on her
own.
“Malumekazi how are you?” I ask.
“I’m okay nana, how was work?”
“It was exhausting but okay. How is everyone?”
“Everyone is fine, just looking forward to seeing you
tomorrow.”
“Is your sister-in-law behaving?” I ask.
She chuckles, “You know how she can be, but I won’t lie
for the past two days we’ve been getting along. Next
week we are going to the doctor, that’s when we might
fight because she hates crowded places.”
“She is such a diva at times. Is malume home?” I ask.
“No, he went to fetch his sheep,” she says.
“We will see you guys tomorrow, we are coming in Zola's
car,” I say.
“My daughter has a car???”
Oh, shit! Her husband didn’t brief her.
“Umh no malumekazi, it’s not hers, it’s…”
I hear her ululating. I’m not sure where the phone is, she
sounds afar as if she dumped the phone and went
outside to celebrate. This is a mess, if I tell Zola she’s
going to report me to Mr X and I will be banned from the
casino. Tomorrow there’s going to be a car drama.
.
.
.

Zola is my retired stylist, ever since Mr X came into her

life I figure out my own life. I match pink top and white
shorts, then put on chunky sneakers.
“You don’t look like you’re serious about life. It’s giving
high school chick vibes.” She’s a fashion police, dressed
in her 80s polkadot drop-waist dress and sleepers with
ribbons.
“I think I look good,” I say.
“Yeah, but not for Nzalo, he’s someone’s boss.”
I don’t get her point, Nzalo being a boss doesn’t change
who I am. I can’t throw my clothes away because they
don’t match his image.
“Are you still keeping an eye for Xolani?” she asks.
“I can’t stop Nzalo from going to MaMkhwanazi,” I say.
“I think you would’ve done it if there was money on the
table. You know, I can’t wait for this whole thing to be
over. At times I feel stupid for even allowing it to happen
and being a part of it.”
“Why?” I thought she was the advocate for all of this.
“He’s working with his former sex-partner to avenge
himself against his ex-girlfriend, and I’m just watching it
all go down.” She’s having some regrets, I think it’s all
because of Robyn.
I don’t like Mr X, I hoped they were going to break up for
some time, but my feelings have changed towards their
relationship. I don’t want them to go through what her
parents are going through. We can’t have both mother
and daughter hitting the rock bottom with their men. If
she breaks up with Mr X he will take his car, I’m not
ready to be a passenger again.

She’s not going to Mr X’s house, I don’t know if he’s

busy or she’s avoiding him. Anyway, I’m going out,
Nzalo comes in to greet Zola, their friendship is very
solid.
“Hello my aunt,” he says.
Zola rolls her eyes, “Hey Nzalo, nice to see you.”
“You look gorgeous,” he says.
I’m confused. Doesn’t he see me? I look better than Zola
with her 80s polkadots print.
She smiles cheekily, “I try. Thank you. You guys have
fun at the casino.”
“You could’ve joined us,” he says.
“Ah, next time. I need to rest, I’m still getting used to day
shift.”
He shifts his eyes to me. I give him an icy stare, he
takes my hand and we walk out, I haven’t received my
compliments.
“You think I should’ve worn polkadots dress?” I ask.
“No,” he says.
“But you have a problem with my cute top and shorts?”
“Am I not allowed not to like something you’re wearing?”
“No!!!” WTF, who raised him?
“What happened to freedom of speech? I would’ve liked
it if you weren’t going to meet with my uncle,” he says.
“Dude, your uncle has seen me drunk. And it’s not like
you’re going to introduce me, we are going to one of his
establishments as customers.” I can’t believe this.
“Not as my girlfriend. And I am going to introduce you.
Nonetheless, I wouldn’t wear ripped jeans and reveal my
chest when going to your uncle’s casino.”
“My uncle doesn’t have a casino,” I say.
“That’s not the point, you don’t look nice,” he finally says
it.
If the car wasn’t moving already, I would’ve gone back,
my bed doesn’t have bugs.
“You’re a horrible person,” I wash my hands about him.
“Nale, you’ve never complimented me in this life. Now
I’m horrible because I don’t like your skimpy outfit?” He’s
finding humor in it.
I didn’t walk in the bedroom and came out looking like
this. It took hardwork and many turns in front of the
mirror.

Surprisingly I’ve never been here before, not even when

I was with Tom. The place looks nice, I’m seeing a bar
as we walk in, I might become their new regular. He’s
holding my hand regardless of him not liking my outfit.
People are looking at us, I think they are liking my outfit.
We make our first stop at the eatery, they only serve
burgers and drinks. We are not on good terms, or rather
I’m not on good terms with him.
“You are still sulking,” he says, as we wait for our food.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” I say.
“How are you going to buy coins and your glass of
wine?”
“You took me out.” He mustn’t dare. I won’t be
blackmailed into smiling.
“So? You’ve taken me out and didn’t pay for me,” he
says.
“You’re very stingy, you’re like us, poor people,” I say.
He laughs, “I’m not stingy, I just know how to spend
money.”
“Whatever! Do you want to pose for some pictures? I
won’t post them.” I have an iPhone, I capture every little
moment.
He’s not photogenic, he doesn’t even try to help me. It’s
either his lips appear too big or his eyes look shut.
There’s something wrong on every picture.
“You mess them up, my Facebook friends are critics of
nature.”
“Oh, Facebook friends?”
Fuck, I said I won’t post them.
Our food comes, he forgets about it.
I take the opportunity to ask about MaMkhwanazi.
“When was the last time you saw your ncane?”
“Today, in the morning,” he says, like it’s nothing
harmful.
Then he looks at my face and scoffs, “I didn’t say
anything!”
“And she doesn’t ask why you’re scarce?” I ask.
“I’m busy with work, she understands,” he says.
The waitress comes back, she gives Nzalo a cup of
coffee, his favorite drink. I’m still asking myself how this
girl knows him, Mr X appears, so it was his instruction. I
feel excluded, he could’ve sent me my favorite drink as
well, I’m stuck with an icy Sparletta.
“I heard from the security that we have high profile
customers,” he says. You can tell from his smile that
he’s happy to see Nzalo here.
“I thought we should come and see I we can win some
money since my girlfriend’s account was frozen by the
bank two months ago,” Nzalo.
Unnecessary details! Mr X looks at me with his gold-
digger spectacles on.
“That’s unfortunate. How are you Nale?” he asks.
“I’m good, Mr X,” I say.
“Why did you leave umakoti wami alone?”
Umakoti? My uncle and I weren’t aware.
“You look nice,” he says.
I look at Nzalo, he made a fuss about it and here is Mr
X, telling me he’s never seen a girl better dressed than
me.
He only smiles. Now the cat got his tongue, neh.
“Nzalo thought I don’t look decent enough,” I say.
“I didn’t say that, I said I don’t like your look, from my
eyes perspective. I’m allowed not to like certain clothes,
right babomncane?”
“I’m not getting involved,” Mr X says, raising his hands
up. “I’m just waiting for you to tell me what is this? A real
relationship or umjolo nje?”
“We are…” he pauses and looks at me.
If he says we are still getting to know each other I swear
I’m going to take his eyes. Because what else do we
need to know about each other? Each other’s blood
type.
“We are in a relationship, that’s why I brought her here.
Meet my girlfriend,” he says.
“The first girlfriend to be introduced to me,” Mr X says,
giving me a look of approval.
“I know I got too involved in the family feuds and
distanced myself. I want to make that right, I’m done
fighting,” Nzalo says.
I’m not shocked, I’ve seen the change in his heart.
There was no reason for him to hate Mr X, he just went
with the wind.
“What changed your heart?” Mr X asks.
“I want to reconnect with my mother’s spirit, I don’t like
that she doesn’t visit us in our dreams and goes to Nale
instead,” he says.
“What are you talking about?” Mr X.
I fill him in, he’s shocked. I don’t know if I should go and
train to become a sangoma, this feels iconic. I
communicated with a dead person, now I’m changing
lives.
“What did your other mother say about this?” Mr X asks.
“She said we will go to church,” he says.
Mr X breaks into laughter. You can tell he despises
MaMkhwanazi. He is a bitter ex, whether MaMkhwanazi
is evil or not. He probably murdered his other ex-
girlfriends, he’s the possessive type that gets obsessed
and crazy. I’m glad they broke up because they would’ve
been a mad, old couple.
“Pay for the coffee, I will show you around,” he says.
“I’m paying for it?” Nzalo, shocked.
“I’m running a business Nzalo, not church charity.”
I also thought it was free coffee but I guess Zola has to
get an Ewallet, hence the customer mistreatment.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 35
ZOLA

Nale and I need to have a tough conversation when we

get home. I have thought about this for a few days, I
could’ve brainstormed with her but sometimes Nale
overanalyses and overacts. I don’t want my parents to
fall out, I believe she feels the same. If we can ask
Thami to visit mom’s cousin, just across the village, for
two weeks. Then bring her mother here, get someone to
help her while we are at work, just for two weeks. I
believe my parents can rekindle whatever it is that’s
dead in their marriage and strengthen their bond again.
Having a handful of responsibilities might also be the
reason why the communication is broken.

We packed before going to work, now we just have to

freshen up and get in the car. My phone rings, it’s
Xolani. He knows that I’m leaving today.
“I’m outside, can I see you for two minutes?”
This is a surprise, we talked earlier and he didn’t
mention anything.
I leave Nale taking a bath and go to him on the road. We
haven’t been together this week, probably the first week
to end without us seeing one another. I don’t think it was
intentional, we were just caught up in different things.
“Makoti,” he says, pulling me for a quick smooch.
“I didn’t expect you here,” I say.
“It’s an emergency,” he says.
I’m confused. “What’s happening?”
“I have to go to Hluhluwe,” he says.
“This weekend? What’s happening?”
“We think Mazwi will be present for his daughter’s
birthday. Robyn managed to get an exclusive invite,” he
says.
My week couldn’t have ended any worse.
“So you’re going with Robyn?” I ask.
“Yeah, but she’s traveling with them and staying at their
lodge,” he says.
I’d be lying if I said that makes me feel better. He lied
about who Robyn was at first, now they’re going to the
same location.
“If you find him what will you do?” I ask.
“I will find out where he lives, then my business with
Robyn will be done. I will handle everything with Nzalo
afterwards,” he says.
I take a deep breath, I have to keep it together.
“Safe travels,” I say.
“Can you look at me in the eyes?”
I sigh and turn my eyes to him. “Yes?”
“I love you and only you. I know I have put you in a
difficult position, this is not comfortable for both of us. I
don’t want trust to be questionable between us.”
“I hear you, Xolani,” I say.
“What are you going to buy for your dad?”
“I don’t know, he likes fruits,” I say.
“That’s too coincidental, I have this for him.” He takes a
sealed brown envelope and gives it to me.
“What is this? Can I open it?” I ask.
“It’s something about fruits, but him and I will talk about
it if he agrees to have that meeting you promised me,”
he says.
“There’s no need, I talked to my mother about it and she
said I can move in with you if I want, she will handle her
husband,” I say.
“That’s a woman to woman agreement, I still need to
have an agreement with your father as well,” he says.
“Do I tell him this is from you?” I ask.
“You can, but everything is written down anyway. Can I
have a kiss?”
We kiss again. His hand stays on my cheek.
“Once this is all over, which is soon, you’re going to
have me and everything you want. There’s nothing I
wouldn’t do for you Nokuzola, as long as it’s within my
reach.”
“Really?” He knows how to soften me up.
“Really, I appreciate how patient you are with me. I will
never intentionally disappoint you,” he says and smiles.
“Then we will go on December vacation and make a
baby, angithi?”
“No!” I’m not thinking about having a baby yet.
“Are you scared of being a mom?” he asks.
“Not really, but I don’t want to have kids out of wedlock,"
I say.
“December is still months away,” he says.
“Meaning?” I’m confused.
“Nale is at the door,” he says.
It’s been more than two minutes.
“I have to go. When are you coming back?”
“Sunday I will be home, waiting for you to come and
sleepover. Sengilala ngizigoqe njengoshwamu,” he
says.
I laugh, “Shwarma, not shwamu.”
We kiss and part ways.

Nale is already looking impatient, it’s not my fault that

Nzalo is not going to Hluhluwe with his former sex
partner. Aren't I just lucky?
Sigh.
“You won’t believe this,” I say.
“What?” Curiosity overtakes anger.
“He’s going to Hluhluwe with Robyn, they think Mazwi
will show up for his daughter’s private birthday
celebration,” I say.
“Him and Robyn, together? Amanzi ama lapha ake ama
khona, meaning a dick always fucks where it has once
fucked. Don’t you know that?”
“He promised to keep his distance,” I say.
“And you believe men, Zola? Men? We should be going
to Hluhluwe too, undercover unqualified investigators
being investigated; investigation on investigation.”
I laugh, “No, we are not going to Hluhluwe.”
“Why not? What is this?” She grabs the letter.
“It’s for my dad, he wants them to meet and discuss
fruits and me moving in with him. Don’t open it,” I say.
“We have glue, we will seal it back. What if it says
something else?”
“I trust him,” I grab it back.
She rolls her eyes, “You are so boring!”
.
.
.
NZALO

It’s Friday, he planned to have a solo dinner and early

night. But MaMkhwanazi just walked in with food
containers. He told her that he won’t be able to join them
for FFM- Friday Family Movie night. It’s a tradition they
have always followed, her marrying their father was too
soon but it really changed their lives for the better.
Maybe that’s why it’s been hard looking at her differently.
Even now, it’s hard for him to absorb everything his
uncle has said. If it happens that his mother’s case was
jeopardized with, it’s possible that Musa had other
connections, it’s not someone in the family. There’s still
a 50% chance of him being really dead. There’s no
evidence, just assumptions made by his uncle’s booty-
call to milk money off him.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you hate home,”
MaMkhwanazi says. She knows her way around the
kitchen; she wastes no time before getting a plate and
dishing for him. She cooked and brought him food, a
very motherly stunt.
“I just enjoy my own company more as I grow up,” he
says.
“You are by yourself throughout the week, on weekends
you should be home. Is it Nalenhle’s influence?”
He sighs, “Ncane, no.”
“Who knows? People change when they’re in new
relationships. I just don’t want you to be distant,
especially after the dream that I had.”
“What dream?” He frowns.
“You won’t believe this. I also can’t believe it because
Thobile and I only met once, we didn’t even get to know
each other. But she actually came to me in a dream last
night.”
“My mother? What did she do or say?” His curiosity
heightens. He’s been thinking about his mother a lot
lately.
“She was basically thanking me for raising and loving
her kids. Then she asked me to protect you guys,
especially you. She said there’s someone trying to get
between us, before disappearing she assured me that
she’s resting in peace and reunited with your father.”
Nzalo takes a huge sigh of relief. His mother is resting in
peace, that’s music to his ears.
“I have been so worried about her, especially the
inability to communicate with her in my dreams,” he
says.
“Well, she is fine. She just wants you to not let anyone
turn you against your family,” MaMkhwanazi says.
“But I’m not going to turn against anyone,” he says.
“Your sudden close relationship with Xolani must be
what is upsetting her. You know he hated your father
and he won’t rest until his family breaks apart, all
because he’s obsessed with me.” She puts a plate in
front of him.
“Coffee?”
Nzalo shakes his head, “I want to have an early night, I
will drink water.”
“There’s something I’ve been trying to protect you from,”
she sits down.
“Oh yeah?” Nzalo raises his eyes, his mouth full.
“Xolani is paying people to harass Musa’s family. You
remember him, right?”
“Ncane how can I forget him? He made me motherless
at 23. Babomncane kind of told me a bit about that,” he
says.
MaMkhwanazi’s eyes widen. “Is it? I told him to keep
that madness to himself and not dig old wounds. Oh
Jesus, that’s why you’ve been so down and moody!”
“No Ncane, I actually told him to go ahead if he thinks
something is off. I mean, what harm can it do?” he says.
“We will re-live that trauma, for what? Your mother is
resting in peace, she is busy harassing an innocent
woman and her daughter, people who had nothing to do
with what Musa did.”
“But he’s not harassing them, he just has someone
keeping close tabs on them,” he says.
“That’s harassment,” she says.
“No, it’s a female who’s pretending to be a family friend.
She’s not doing any harm, just watching everything for
him,” he says.
She nods, “Mmmm, I guess you’re right.”
“Yeah, you and I should sit back and let him do his thing.
Maybe it’s his way of redeeming himself and coming
back to the family. I have seen a change in him ever
since he scored himself a young, fresh perfect ten.”
“He has a new girlfriend?” MaMkhwanazi raises her
eyebrows.
“I’m talking about Zola,” he says.
“Perfect ten?” She scoffs.
“She’s pretty ncane, I think the prettiest girls in the world
have the Thabethe genes.” His Nale is a proof of that, a
well balanced perfect ten.
“I’m taking my containers because you don’t like
bringing my things back. My son is alone at home,”
MaMkhwanazi says.
“Tell that punk to call me.”
.
.
.

Zola wouldn’t be happy to find out that he sent Robyn

his room number . She’s on her way to him right now
and it’s after 8pm. It’s a suspicious move, she called and
said something has happened. Tomorrow she’s
attending the party at Amorello, he expected to hear
from her tomorrow. This could be a stunt, Robyn doesn’t
take a no.
Anyway he gets her from the reception, to his surprise
she’s dragging her suitcase with a small bag over her
arm.
“And then?” He’s confused.
“I don’t know, you tell me Xolani.” Robyn is furious, her
make-up is all over the place.
They can’t do this here, she will make a scene. He takes
her to his room, a very compromising situation to be in.
“Robyn talk,” he says after closing the door.
“I almost died, Winnie got a phone call from your
brother’s wife telling her there’s a woman hired to keep
tabs on her. What kind of stupidity is this Xolani? I was
dragged out of the guest house like a madwoman. The
only reason her security guards didn’t kill me is because
I had sex with one of them.”
“What the fuck!” he curses, his hands on his head, going
to the window. Nzalo had one job, just one! To keep his
mouth shut.
“Nzalokayise doesn’t know what I’m made of, I see his
father never told him.” He’s seething, if Nzalo is not
flying out of the country right now, then his doctor should
be ready with scissors and bandages.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 36
NALENHLE

I was scared that her mom would ululate again when we

arrive. Luckily she doesn’t, I guess her husband told her
that the car doesn’t belong to Zola. She’s still happy to
see her driving though. Everything is normal when we
get inside the house. I guess this happy front they are
putting is what have blinded us into thinking they are
happy all this time. My mother looks all kinds of cute,
dressed up with her earrings on.
I sit next to her, she’s always glowing with happiness
when I’m around.
“You smell so good,” I say.
She smiles and pulls me closer.
“You should eat and get ready, we have to do this
tonight,” my uncle says.
“Is it that urgent?” I want to chill with my mother.
“I don’t see why we should waste time, Zola will take us
with the car.”
I guess that’s why my mother is dressed up and smelling
good. I thought I’d have a night to rest. I still don’t
understand why it’s only me going with them. Maybe he
wants me to keep an eye on my mother because
sometimes she’s stubborn.

I eat and go to my bedroom to change. Zola’s mother

follows me.
“Can I come in?” she’s at the door.
“Yes.” I have nothing to hide, I can never be indecent for
her, she raised me up.
She sits on my bed, heaving a sigh. It looks like she’s
here for something serious.
“Is everything alright aunty?” I ask.
“Yeah, everything is alright. I just want us to talk about
you.” She’s scaring me.
I’ve been on my best behavior for months now.
“What did I do?” I ask.
She chuckles, “Nothing, asiquli amacala.”
But she’s taking a deep breath, as if something heavy is
coming.
“You know who you are, right?” she asks.
“I’m Nalenhle,” I say.
“Yeah, and you will remain Nalenhle through it all.
Nothing about who you are revolves around external
factors or who did what, to who. I know you have
questions that you need answers for, but the Nalenhle I
helped to raise has the strength of an ox. You will
triumph against anything, you’re a strong girl.”
“I really appreciate the pep talk aunty, I just wonder what
inspired you to do this,” I say.
“Tonight might change the way you look at things. I just
don’t want it to change the way you look at yourself,”
she says.
“Is tonight more than fetching mkhulu's spirit?” I ask.
“Unfortunately yes, there are things your uncle will say
there that will clear a lot of confusion you’ve had for
years. I wish there was a better way to do it, a less
painful one.” She’s really concerned. Now I’m worried
and curious at the same time.
I didn’t get to meet my grandfather, he was killed, I’m not
even sure Zola remembers him either. But I know he
was never brought home, something about him being
killed with a weapon.
.
.
.

Zola is taking us to the sugarcane field where he was

buried. It’s outside the village, I have no idea why
malume has waited for so long to fetch him. Zola is to
remain inside the car, while the three of us go to the
grave. I feel bad for him, it looks like he was abandoned.
I hold my mother, malume has ihlahla in his hand. He’s
been here before, he doesn’t search more than a minute
before locating the grave. He kneels down, I try getting
my mother on her knees too but she refuses. I can’t
reason with her here, there’s no time. I get on my knees,
malume grabs my hand and holds it.
“This is where the head of Thabethes’ spirit has been
resting for the past 25 years,” he says.
It’s cold, I just want this to be done and over with.
“Thabethe,” he talks to the grave. “You know how things
were when you left. You know the damage you did for
you to die in the hands of your son.”
His son? What the hell? I pull my hand from his. He
grabs it back.
Did he kill my grandfather?
“This Nalenhle, I gave her the name. Regardless of how
she came, to us she symbolized an abundance of
happiness,” he says.
I smile, he will always be my best man in the whole
world.
“You had ran away when she was born and you didn’t
get a chance to see how beautiful she is, because you
didn’t deserve it,” he says.
I sense a son and father feud. This is not a friendly ritual
for him.
“Bazamile is here with me,” he says.
My mother is really on her diva tendencies shem.
“I don’t know how you thought I’d do this,” he grabs my
hand tighter.
A moment of silence passes, my nipples are literally
freezing under the dress.
“Nalenhle…” he takes a deep breath.
My mother’s hand touches my shoulder.
“This is our father,” he says.
“I see,” I say.
“Yours too,” he adds.
“Huh?” I’m confused.
“Our own father was sexually violating his daughter.”
My whole body trembles. I’m gasping for air, I feel hands
embracing me around my shoulders. It’s my mother, my
uncle has my hand. I want to cry, that’s how to release
pain, but there’s no urge. I get off my knees and hold my
mother for dear life.
.
.
.
ZOLA

It has happened, I don’t even know where to start. My

mother decided to sleep in her sister-in-law’s bedroom,
my aunt needs someone as much as Nale does. But for
the first time Nale is suffering in silence. I wish she can
throw one of her tantrums, she can even blame me if
that would make her feel better, I’d take it.
It’s late, but her light is still on so I know that she’s not
asleep. I should’ve brought a bottle of wine and hidden it
somewhere since I knew what we were coming to. I
make two cups of tea and take a box of cookies to her
room.
“I don’t want tea Zola,” she turns to the other side.
“Fine, you don’t have to drink it,” I put everything down.
I’m going to sit here, if she wants me to sleep with her
then I will fetch my blanket.
“Did you know all this time?” she asks.
“I swear, I didn’t know until last week when dad visited
us,” I say.
“And you didn’t tell me? My mother’s own father?” She
sits up.
This is what I wanted, for her to talk about it.
“It’s a sensitive thing, I didn’t know how to handle it
myself. I’m also hurt because all my aunt has ever
needed is love. She’s a diva, just like you and I, but
she’s a good woman. I don’t understand how her own
father didn’t want to protect her.”
“I want to kill him,” she says.
“Dad already did the needful, he’s the first murderer I’m
proud of.”
She takes a deep sigh, “All I keep thinking about is how
much my mother has suffered.”
“It takes a strong woman to keep standing against all
odds the way she’s done. Wena, how do you feel
about…” I can't even say the word.
“Being an incest child?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I nod.
“It doesn’t change who I am. Maybe I wasn’t meant to
have a dad, which is a great thing if my dad was going
to be my grandfather at the same time. I’m good with
having just an uncle, at least he loves and protects me.”
“It’s a sad situation, I guess Khanyisa's mom was itching
to tell you,” I say.
“Wait, she insinuated that my mother was sleeping
around willingly? How dare she, with her two color face!"
Umh, I wasn’t perpetuating any violence.
“I think aunty should visit us for two weeks, she needs to
get out of the village. Maybe the fighting couple will
make up too, then she will come back to a comfortable
environment. I want to spoil her, nobody deserves it
more than her.”
“Yes, I can ask Slee’s aunt to look after her, she’s
unemployed,” she says.
I’m so relieved she’s not taking this the bad way.
“I have been thinking about for a week, I thought you’d
think I’m being unreasonable. Thami will go to Maka
Queen. Everyone just has to get a break, especially your
mom.”
“Yeah, this is a good idea. I will go and sleep with her
tonight, I think she needs me more than anyone by her
side. I just needed to get my emotions levelled. I don’t
want her to feel bad, it wasn’t her fault and the dad talk
will never be heard of from again now onwards.”
My phone disturbs the moment. Xolani at this time? He
knows that I’m home, at this time I could be in bed
possibly with my mom.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Nokuzola, I’m going to kill him.”
“What are you talking about?” I’m confused.
“Nzalokayise, I’m going to kill him.” I can hear that he’s
not still where he is.
“Why are you going to kill Nzalo?” I ask.
The name grabs Nale’s attention.
“He ruined this whole fuckin’ thing, running his mouth to
that whore.” His language is very strong, I can tell he’s
losing it.
“Is there any bar closeby?” I ask.
“I don’t want alcohol Nokuzola, I want that boy.”
“Okay sleep, you will get him tomorrow. I love you,
okay?”
I hear a deep sigh before he drops the call.
“Did you just tell him to get Nzalo tomorrow? What did
he do?”
“It sounds like the mission is off, he told MaMkhwanazi
everything.”
Her mouth drops open. I’m just as shocked. He could’ve
ran his mouth early this week and they would’ve made
another plan, not wait a day before the party.
“He is a snake,” I say.
“Hhayi-bo! If he is a snake then he is a small snake and
Mr X is a big snake, they’re uncle and nephew.” Stupid
argument.
I’m very annoyed by this. We were so close, now
Robyn’s contract will be renewed and she will be in his
life for longer.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Zola’s mom doesn’t want to go to her husband, luckily

there’s a sponge. I let the two of them sleep in bed and
sleep on the floor. I feel bad for my uncle, it looks like
she wants nothing to do with him even on a heavy night
like this. He ended up doing the ritual by himself, I
couldn’t stand it, I took my mother and left him alone in
the rondavel.
“Aunty we are going to take mom to visit us for two
weeks,” I say.
It’s almost midnight but we are still awake, me and her,
mom is asleep.
“Two weeks? Who will take care of her?” she asks.
“I have friend whose aunt has been looking for piece
jobs,” I say.
“A stranger Nalenhle? I don’t know, it would’ve been
better if it was someone we know and trust.”
I completely understand where her concerns come from,
but not everyone is her father-in-law.
“It’s a 53 year old woman, I doubt she’d want to harm
her,” I say.
“I will have to see her first,” she says.
“That’s fine,” I say.
“I will go and visit my family in that two weeks.”
Nope, never. That’s not the purpose.
“I think you should spend them with your husband
instead, exclusively," I say.
“He has his sheep and chickens,” she dismisses.
“Hhayi-bo, don’t you love him anymore? Talk,
Khanyisa’s mom is lonely.”
“Lonely for who?” She laughs silently.
“Noma yiphi indoda elahlile,” I say.
“I don’t know why you’re talking about men at your age.
You don’t know what marriage is, it can feel like a
prison,” she says.
“Really? I’d gladly become an inmate for Nzalo.”
“Is he still around?” She sounds shocked.
I know my relationships don’t last but it’s never that bad,
she is exaggerating.
“He bought me this iPhone,” I tell her.
“That doesn’t mean anything, a man can buy you an
aeroplane while you are not in his heart,” says the
enemy of progress.
“I’m in his heart,” I argue.
“Yoh Nale, I’m scared about this particular one. If this
boy leaves you, we’ll definitely get a call from hospital,”
she says.
I’ve never had a non-dramatic breakup, that’s why all my
ex’s are like enemies to me. Especially those who
dumped me first, even those I wasn’t feeling anyway, I
hated when they ended things.
"But for real Malumekazi, do you still love my uncle?" I
ask.
She chuckles, "Of course, I love him."
"Okay, I will treat you guys with breakfast for two in your
bedroom tomorrow," I say.
"You watch too many movies," she laughs.
.
.
.

I thought I’d be the first to wake up, everyone would be

comfortable in their beds. But Zola is awake too. She’s
on the phone while making breakfast, and by breakfast I
mean her own Morvite.
“Don’t make a scene Xolani, wait for him at his gym
instead of going to MaMkhwanazi’s house,” she says.
She’s advising Xolani, the senior citizen that has seen
over 40 Christmases, to go and attack a baby at the
gym.
I plug a kettle of water and go outside. I’m calling Nzalo,
he needs to be aware of what’s going on.
“Hey babe,” he answers.
“Don’t go to the gym,” I say.
He chuckles, “Are you a seer? I’m on my way there.”
“Your uncle is on his way, coming to kill you because
you told MaMkhwanazi everything.” I won’t lie, I’m
disappointed in him. It’s giving snake vibes.
“What did I tell her?” He sounds confused.
“I don’t know but I know that you are in trouble and you
ruined the investigation,” I say.
“Maybe he will explain it better,” he’s stubborn.
He thinks Mr X is going to explain with his mouth, not
fists.
I did my part; I warned him.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 37
ZOLA

I’ve been checking my phone since his last call, I want to

know where how him and Nzalo “talked”. I know Nzalo
fucked up but I don’t want this to cause another fallout. I
believe there’s still another way they can get to Musa’s
family.
Nale calls me to the kitchen for breakfast after treating
my parents with a special one, served in a different
room. Our breakfast is short of bacon and sausages, the
other breakfast looked nicer. We dig in, Thami is with us
and auntie. The mood is better than I expected, I don’t
know if it’s too early to say Nale has made peace with
the daddy issue. She might be still processing it. Either
way I’m proud of her for keeping it together.

I’m curious about my parents situation but we can’t

address it with Thami around, so I just tell him about
what Nale and I planned.
“Auntie is going to visit us, you will go to Queen’s mom
while she’s gone because mom and dad will be
occupied with something else,” I say.
“Queen’s mom? No, I’m not going,” he says.
“Why not?” I didn’t think he’d make this difficult.
“They talk about people everyday,” he says.
Nale turns her eyes, “And what’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t like listening to people’s business that got
nothing to do with me," he says.
I swear boys don’t know how necessary it is to listen to
juicy gossip, to stay knowing what’s happening in
people’s personal lives.
“You have earphones,” I say.
It’s not like he ever really listens, he’s always on his
phone.
“Okay,” he says.
I know he’s not okay with it, he just doesn’t want the
conversation to keep going.
Dad calls me, he’s yelling my name.
I’m not sure why he’s calling, they’re supposed to be
feeding each other and having a sweet little
reconciliation. I leave my food and go to their bedroom.

He’s holding the letter I gave him yesterday. It doesn’t

look like they talked, judging by how distant they seated
from one another.
“So I warn you against an older man and you run to tell
him to propose marriage?” He’s calm, I can’t tell whether
he’s angry or not.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I’m confused.
“This letter!” he waves it up. “The Hadebes are coming
here on the 29th. Did you say this was okay? Knowing
very well how I feel about that relationship.”
“No baba, I don’t know anything about him coming here
to…” Wait, don’t I know?
God, I swear it’s not what it looks like.
“I’m asking Nokuzola. Did you agree to him sending his
people here to discuss marriage matters?”
Why is mom so quiet? I need backup.
“No, to me he said his house is cold then asked if I’d be
okay moving in with him, I then said he must come and
talk to you,” I explain.
He sighs, “So basically you said yes?”
“To move in with him, not marriage,” I say.
“Oh, you think it’s better to just cohabit without him
honouring your family and paying his dues?” he asks.
“Of course not.” I’ve never been so confused.
He folds the letter and puts it away. “You can go.”

I walk out, confused. I’ve never been dumb. Yes, I

wasn’t the Top 5 in school but my intelligence can’t be
questioned. I ask Nale to the side, maybe she will
understand this.
“I’m engaged,” I say.
Her eyes pop out. “To who?”
“Xolani, that letter is for the lobola negotiations meeting.
Apparently I said yes to the proposal. Do you think I’m
dumb?”
“Yes, obviously. When did he propose? Pictures? Ring?”
she asks.
I feel dumber.
“He didn’t even propose, we had a casual conversation
and that was it. Next thing he sends the letter and I'm
the courier woman.” I can’t believe it.
“Even in pre-apartheid era, this never happened. You
are lucky but also very unlucky. On a scale of one to
romantic, I’m giving this a negative zero. I wasn’t there,
there’s no diamond ring, no pictures and memories. Just
a letter and confused woman. Are you going to let him
go ahead?”
“I wouldn’t have said no if it was a direct proposal,” I say.
“So it’s a yes? You don’t care about the ring and the
kneeling part.” Nale’s expectations of life have always
been above mine and any realistic person.
“Yeah, but I have to call him, he could’ve communicated
this,” I can’t just let this go.
“Didn’t he? You’re not always going to understand him,
no offense but…”
“I will be offended, so you better keep it to yourself.” One
of these days I will tell him that she calls him a senior
citizen, if not sugardaddy…not that he’s a daddy with no
sugar.
Even though he communicated, I feel like his
indirectness kind of tricked me.

Nale returns inside, I stand against the wall and call him.
“Makoti,” he answers.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you want to marry me?” I
ask.
“I believe I told you before we even went on our first
date. What’s going on?”
“The letter Xolani, you asked my dad to expect your
people on the 29th for lobola negotiations. When did we
have that conversation?”
“In the car, I can’t remember the date,” he says.
“Our conversation was about me moving in with you," I
say, my memory is very sharp.
“But at this age Nokuzola, with all other offenses I have
done to your father, you wanted me to just take you in
without doing the needful?”
“No, but…”
“But what Nokuzola?”
“You could’ve proposed right.”
“Which way is right?” he asks.
“Getting a ring, proposing on your knee and making it a
moment to remember,” I say.
“Okay, when do you want me to do it? Send me your
size and I will ask my PA to contact a jeweller.” He
doesn’t get it, he’s turning this into a professional task.
“Never mind,” I say.
“But I do mind, I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. Have you spoken to Nzalo?”
“I’m walking in to his gym right now. I will call you back.
Have you eaten?”
I roll my eyes, “Yes.”
“Who made you food? I know your hands always have
cramps.”
I laugh, he knows me very well.
“Nale,” I say.
“Thank her for me, I appreciate her taking care of my
lazy dollface.”
I’m not lazy, I always make my bed and do my own
sandwiches. It’s just that Nale is the type that does too
much, making people question me. Also, taller people
have higher bone mass, they are stronger, I’m shorter
than Nale for crying out loud.
.
.
.

SKHUNDLA THABETHE

He might be sending his daughter away, off to marriage.

This is what every father wants for their daughter, he
never thought he’d be this unhappy when it finally
happens.
“Maybe if I paid enough attention she wouldn’t be doing
this,” he says, thinking out loud.
His wife sighs, “Nokuzola is in love, let her be.”
“With a man 4 years younger than me? Nokuzola is a
child.” He shakes his head, it feels like she was born just
yesterday. “Maybe it’s because of me, that’s why she
found comfort in him.”
“Thabethe, honestly, age is just a number. He loves her,
look at the car she’s driving. On top of that, he wants to
pay lobola. Or you wanted a young boy who’d get her
pregnant and then run away? Because that’s what boys
her age are good at.”
He takes a deep breath. Maybe she’s right, he’s
exaggerating.
He looks at her, sitting on the other corner of the bed.
Nale even brought a white porcelain plate designed with
icing love shapes, but they didn’t eat together.
“What did I do Khululiwe?” he asks.
She turns away. It’s what she always does, she never
explains what really went wrong in their marriage.
“Tell me, I will apologize. Look at us, how old are we?
Do you think I want to go through divorce and chase
other women?”
“Because it’s always about you and what
inconveniences you baba kaNokuzola?” she asks.
“That’s not what I mean. I just want us to fix what’s
broken, even the kids want us to be happy,” he says.
“Us to be happy?” She shakes her head.
“Yes,” Thabethe says.
“Your happiness is seeing your sister happy, your
livestock multiplying in the kraal and having sex. Those
are your three sources of happiness. Marriage is falling
apart because I’m no longer fulfilling some of my duties
as a wife, that’s why you ran to the kids and told them
something is wrong. But tell me Thabethe, what makes
me happy? Then we can fix both sides.”
“I don’t understand, are you saying you’re not happy?”
He looks confused.
“You are my husband, what makes me happy? Answer
the question,” she says.
“Many things make you happy, just tell me what I have
to make right,” he says.
Tears burn her eyes but the last thing he will do is walk
out to the children with teary eyes.
“You don’t know me anymore Thabethe. You don’t know
what I go through, you never ask, you never say thank
you. You expect so much from me and I always deliver
because I love you. I’m old, I’m tired, I’m not going to
start over and tell you my favorite colour and all the
things you should know about me as a wife. Before you
start complaining about what you’re not getting, ask
yourself what have you done to make me happy in the
last 5 years.”
“But I take care of you, I always do my part,” he says.
“Nokuzola and Nalenhle also take care of me. Maybe
even better than you do. You keep talking about sharing
responsibilities, when you cook do you ever cook my
favorite meal or the focus is always on what Bazamile
likes for the day?” It’s crazy to even talk about her sister-
in-law in this manner because she has never done
anything wrong.
Thabethe keeps quiet, all of a sudden he can’t hold the
conversation he’s been wanting to have.
“Nokuzola called me and told about her boyfriend
wanting her to move in with him. Do you know what I
said? She could do whatever she wanted, as long as
she’s going to be happy because I have failed her as a
mother. I didn’t teach her to put herself first, I taught my
daughter that it’s okay to come second. Now I’m in this
marriage, again teaching her that it’s okay to stay in a
marriage that prioritizes everyone before you. To birth
kids for a man and then allow him to love them less. It’s
the tributes I’ve made okay. A mediocre level I’ve set as
normal, not just for myself but for my kids as well.”
“But I love my kids, it’s unfair for you to make it sound
like I don’t,” he says, his voice quavering.
“Do they believe that? You told me Nokuzola cried for
your love. That’s a position I put her in, and she could
possibly carry that inferior mindset to her own marriage.”
A few drops of tears escape but she quickly wipes them
away.
“Things are going to be better now, I have done what I
needed to do. All I’m asking for is a chance to fix where I
have broken. My intention has never been to hurt you
and my children. Please don’t leave me, I’m nothing
without you.”
She stands up and picks the tray Nale served them on.
“I have to send Thami to the shop.”

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 38
ZOLA
I’ve been trying not to pay attention to it, but things look
bad. Thami had to take out the sheep because their
owner hasn’t come out of the bedroom since morning.
Nale also sees it but we haven’t discussed it because
mom is here. She’s acting normal, now helping Nale
with lunch. I’m also helping, showing them where things
are when they’re looking. Xolani hasn’t gotten back to
me, hopefully they sorted it out in a calm manner.
Thami walks in with a parcel sent to dad by one of his
friends. Mom directs him to the bedroom, I hope dad is
putting on a strong face. I’m not at ease, a part of me
has been wanting to go and check up on him, but I don’t
want my mom to think I’m poking my long nose in their
elder issues.

Thami comes out of the bedroom and says dad wants to

talk to me. I have been waiting for this opportunity since
morning.
“Wait!” I’m being stopped by my mother.
She’s taking off her cooking apron, going there before
me.
Nale looks at me, worry etched on her forehead lines.
“Breakfast was a bad idea,” she says remorsefully.
“No, this has nothing to do with you. Breakfast was a
nice treat,” I say.
She takes a heavy breath and turns back to her pots. It
takes a few minutes for my mother to come out, she
finally allows me to go to him.
I knock at the door, his voice tells me to come in. He’s
lying in bed, when I walk in he sits up. In 29 years of my
life, I have never seen my dad with a puffy face that
shows traces of a heavy crying. My heart breaks, he
can’t even hold eye contact.
“You’ve been here all day, is everything alright?”
“No,” he sighs heavily and asks me to have a seat.
“I asked you because you are the eldest,” he says.
I start holding my breath, this situation is escalating way
too fast.
“Firstly, I want to apologize to you for not loving you the
way I was supposed to. I know it’s a bit too late, the
damage has already been done.”
“But we talked about that, you explained and I
understand.” I’m confused as to why this is being
brought up again.
“I know but it’s important that I acknowledge it and
apologize to you,” he says.
I nod, “Okay, I appreciate it.”
He take another deep breath. “I messed up my marriage
mntanami. I know you can all tell that things are not
good. Your mother wants to leave.”
“No!” That can’t happen.
“She’s fed up and I can see where I went wrong. I’m
going to try my best to fix the situation, I want you and
your siblings to calm down. Don’t stress about this, I will
handle it.”
I don’t know how he expects us to keep calm. If mom
really leaves him that means Nale has to come back
home, which will put me in a position of being the only
person working.
“Can I book you guys to a marriage counselor? Or call
mom’s family to come and intervene?” I ask.
“No, don’t,” he refuses.
“We wanted auntie to visit us next week, hoping you
guys will have some time to yourselves,” I say.
“That can help, better than getting other people
involved,” he says.
.
.
.
I have to brief Nale about it. Mom is not in the kitchen
when I come back, which gives me an opportunity to
break the news.
“Is he alright?” Nale asks.
“I’d be lying if I said so. Mom wants to leave, he refused
marriage counseling and family meeting. The only thing
he agreed to is having some time together. Have you
spoken to Slee?”
“Yeah, but I’m yet to talk to her aunt about how much
her service will cost,” she says.
“It’s only looking after auntie, making sure she eats,
takes her meds, goes to the bathroom when needs to
and stays clean. Any other house activities is for us
when we come back from work.” It’s only for two weeks,
she shouldn’t charge us crazy.
“Wasn’t last night’s ritual supposed to bring light to the
family? Why is it that as soon as that man’s spirit is
brought here things fall apart?” She’s asking a valid
question.
Things were bad, but not this bad. I think my grandfather
was okay left in the fields.
“Is it possible to take him back to the sugarcane field?” I
ask and we both laugh.
The situation is bad, for the sake of everyone I pray my
mother sits down and thinks about her decision. If
there’s still love there can be a solution. If she needs to
be released from some of her duties that can be done.
My aunt receives disability grant, finding her extra
helping hands wouldn’t be hard especially in the village.
Thami can take care of himself, he already does.
.
.
.

Thabethe finally leaves the bedroom, passing Nale with

her mother outside the door having lunch. His wife
scolded him about talking to Zola about their problems
again. She has a point, kids shouldn’t be involved in
adult affairs, but then again his relationship with his
daughter almost bite the dust because he didn’t
communicate what his situation was. He’s trying to do
better, hence he’s communicating with her.
He enters the rondavel, his hands on his waist. He
should be kneeling, their alter is here, but he doesn’t.
There is no need for that.
“You betrayed me,” he says with a heavy sigh.
It’s not the first time that his father has let him down.
“You wanted to come home and as soon soon as you
are here the last string breaks. I’m not saying things
were good but my wife wasn’t threatening to pack her
bags and leave. What do you think is going to become
of this family without her?”
He takes another deep sigh and shakes his head. “I’d
expect you to help me. If you help me you’re helping
Bazamile and Nalenhle, and your grandkids too. For
once, be a good light to your family.”
.
.
.
NALENHLE

We only have this week until mom comes this side. We

are holding our breath that Zola’s mom doesn’t leave,
once she’s alone with her husband he will remind her
why they got married in the first place. I know she still
loves him, she just hasn’t been loved right or shown
affection, which makes her feel less appreciated by him.
And one thing I can swear on is that my uncle loves his
wife.
I haven’t seen Nzalo, I don’t know how things ended
with his uncle. But he’s on his way, I cried of stomach
cramps and he promised me some meds. Obviously I
thought he was going to send me money for a doctor,
that’s what good men do. Then I would’ve made some
home made remedy and kept the money. I’m in a long
dress that used to be Zola’s mother’s, it’s two times
bigger than me. This is how he’d want me to look
everyday.
I’m bored, Zola is not here, from work she went to Mr X’s
house. My eyes are on the clock every two minutes until
I hear his car outside. I get him from the door, I have
definitely missed him. I’m coming from the most hardest
weekend of my life, I don’t even know how I’m still
standing this strong.
He hugs me with a little frown on his face. “And then?”
“And then what?” I ask, he’s looking at my dress.
“You look different. Is it a weekend glow I’m seeing?”
Glow? I doubt that I have any.
“Why the long face? Didn’t you have a good weekend?”
“It was okay.” I’m not ready to talk about that part of my
life. I’m trying not to think much about it, worrying about
my uncle’s marriage is a good mind distraction.
“How was yours? Did Mr X beat you?” I ask.
He sighs and hands me the McDonald’s foodie bag and
pharmacy paperbag.
We sit down, I take out the chips and pour sauce, then
start with the burger.
“How are the cramps?” he asks.
I’m confused. “From where?”
“Okay eat, then we’ll talk because I have to go
somewhere for a few days.”
I stop eating. This is not the time for him to leave me.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I’m going to Hluhluwe,” he says.
“I’m confused. Is it business related or pleasure?”
“Babomncane came to me, you know that, you were the
one to warn me.”
“Did he beat you?” I ask.
“We were in public but he was mad.”
“Kodwa nawe! Why did you tell MaMkhwanazi?”
“I didn’t, well at least that’s what I thought because I
didn’t give her any exclusive details. I was just trying to
talk to my mother and shedding some light to her. But
clearly her and I are on different teams.”
I don’t know if I like how calm he looks, he was betrayed
for God’s sake.
“Did you ask her about it?” I ask.
“No, but I will. It’s just not a priority at the moment. I
need to find Winnie, Musa’s fiance. They are still in
Hluhluwe,” he says.
“But you can’t just go there. What if…?”
“I don’t have time to cat chase and do all the things
babomncane is doing, hiring former strippers to go
undercover. I have other important things to do with my
time and money. So I will find Winnie wherever she is
and she will tell me if Musa is alive or not, then she will
tell me what business she has with ncane.”
Okay, let’s be realistic here. His uncle wasn’t stupid for
doing this lowkey, he’s not just going to get all the
information he wants. Is Winnie a stupid woman? I
highly doubt.
“What if she doesn’t talk or lie to you?” I ask.
“Then her daughter will talk,” he says.
Why am I so forgetful?
“Don’t kidnap people Nzalo,” I say.
“Are you going to drink the pills?”
Irrelevant question, we are talking about something else.
“I don’t want you to go to jail, please get Mr X involved in
this. I’m sad that you’re leaving though, I thought I’d
spend most of this week with you. My mother is coming
to visit next week, she will be here for two weeks so I
won’t be able to see you.”
“I will see you, why not? I want to meet your mom,” he
says.
“She will like you because you smell nice,” I say.
“Really? I will unbox more perfumes and please my
mother-in-law.”
Gosh, I almost forgot to update him.
“Your uncle sent a letter to my uncle. Did he tell you?”
“What? No.” He looks shocked.
I love it when I break the news and the listener looks
shocked.
“Well, he did. Zola will be your aunt,” I say.
“That’s nice, I guess he kept us in the dark for a reason.”
“Don’t tell MaMkhwanazi,” I say.
He sighs, “Ok.”
Everyone knows that he’s a singing canary.
.
.
.

AT THE THABETHES

After a silent dinner Thami goes to his room, not really

bothered. Khululiwe gathers dishes and takes them to
the kitchen. While she’s gone Thabethe helps his sister
to bed, as he opens her meds trying to help her, his wife
walks in.
“Don’t worry, I will do it,” she says.
“But I thought since you’ve been busy all day I’d do this.”
“It’s fine Thabethe.” She takes over.
Bazamile makes no fuss, she sits still during the
exchange and complies with Khululiwe as she gives her
the pills. Thabethe makes his way out of the door,
Khululiwe fixes her pillow and helps her in bed. As she
turns to go away, Bazamile holds her hand.
There’s no communication, Khululiwe puts her hand
over hers and smiles. It’s what she does when showing
appreciation. She has no doubt that if Bazamile was
able to speak they would have been best friends.
“Nale called earlier having stomach cramps but when I
called her again she said she was feeling better. I will
call her again in the morning and hear how she slept.”
Bazamile pats her on the arm and then lets go.
“Goodnight aunty, your brother is waiting for me,”
Khululiwe says and walks out.
She’s trying to make it sound like everything is alright
but they haven’t, and Bazamile knows that. She knows
that Nale and Zola are going to take her away. Her
hands search around, it takes a few seconds for them to
get hold of the plastic bag that keeps all her medication.
Usually Khululiwe keeps them inside the cupboard but
today she forgot them next to her pillow.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 39
ZOLA

He’s not apologetic about the unromantic proposal, not

that I expected him to be. I missed him, I didn’t even tell
him I’d be coming here after work. I surprised him and
he was happy. For a change I bought dinner on the way,
there was a man selling socks and I decided to buy
them for him. I know it’s not the quality he wears, he’s
probably not going to wear them if I’m not around. But
he’s happy, way happier than I expected.
We get in bed, he’s wearing them.
“Awusemuhle,” he says.
I put an effort, I’m here because I missed him.
He kisses my forehead and lies down, facing me.
“I don’t know if I should inform the people I call my family
about where we are or just let it be,” he says.
“Let them know, even if they don’t care you would have
played your part,” I say.
“I will tell them, just not now, I’m still mad at Nzalo,” he
says.
“He will fix it, at least now he knows who to trust. Do you
ever talk to Msindisi?” I hardly hear him talking about
him, their relationship just seems even more dead than
his and MaMkhwanazi’s.
“We don’t talk unless we see each other, we’ve never
been close anyway,” he says.
“And the girl?” I ask.
He smiles, “Purity? She is very beautiful and pure. You
wouldn’t tell that she’s one of us. But we also don’t talk
very often, but it’s because of the family politics.”
“Mmmm, I hear you.” I hold his hand, I’m cold.
“You will give me a girl, right?” he asks.
Again, the baby talk arises.
“Yes, in a few years to come,” I say.
He smiles, “Thank you.”
He pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. Then he
wraps his arm around me.
There were times when we just cuddled and slept, that
was before we got intimate. I have never made the first
move, he always leads. Today I want sex and it doesn’t
look like he’s in the mood, I don’t know how to. Do I spell
it out?
He strokes my cheek, “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” I say.
He stares at me longer, then takes a deep breath.
“I love you, I hope you know and believe that,” he says.
I nod, “I know Xolani, and I love you too.”
“If I met you sooner we’d be married and have children
running around by now. But dreams delayed are not
dreams denied, God saved the best one for the last.”
“The last, okay.” I’m blushing.
“There will never be another after you.” He releases a
deep sigh, squeezing me on his chest. A kiss on the
cheek lands, then he tightens the embrace.
Still, no sign of sex.
We didn’t spend time together last week, that’s why I’m
here today. There’s a situation at home that I need to
forget about for a while.
“Bhungane,” I say, softly whispering.
“Why are you calling me so nicely?”
Fuck me, that’s what I want.
“I miss you,” that’s what my mouth say.
“I’m here sthandwa sami, I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, I miss being touched by you,” I specify.
He looks at me, now I’m shy.
“I’m sorry, I thought you said you missed being with me.”
There’s a bit panic in his voice. Maybe he’s not used to
a woman asking him for sex.
“I’m a bit exhausted sthandwa sami but…” He cups my
boob up, our lips connect.
He kisses me, with every breath it gets deeper. I can feel
his shaft growing.
His hand disappears between my legs, I pull them apart
for more accessibility.
His fingers are soon dripping with my wetness. He
moves off the pillow, grabs my legs up and shoves his
head between them. His tongue plays with my clit. It
feels good, I love clit stimulation that’s accompanied with
a finger digging in my cookie. But the finger can only do
so much.
“Please Xolani!” I beg.
He traps my clit between his lips and shakes his face on
my mound. It doesn’t take two minutes for all the juices I
was holding back to splash out. My legs tremble in the
air, he doesn’t stop until my body becomes still.
I catch my breath while he gets a towel to clean me. I
don’t think I will have any penetration today. I came, I
love the feeling, but I love it more when I’m sharing it
with him.
“What made you tired?” I ask.
He kisses my cheek, lying next to me again.
“I think working, plus I haven’t been to the gym in three
weeks, my body is not strong,” he says.
Dating an old person already showing me flames?
Funny enough, I don’t even think he’s tired.
“I don’t want to give a bad performance,” he says.
“It’s fine,” I kiss his lips.
He smiles, “I love how you moan my name. You’re the
cutest thing ever.”
.
.
.

He’s already up, I open my eyes to his phone ringing.

He rushes over and takes it. He drops the call instead of
answering it. Then he comes and kisses my forehead.
“I will run you a bath. What do you want to eat?” he
asks.
“I will have something at work, I don’t want to eat too
early,” I say.
“Sorry I woke you up, I forgot to put it on silence,” he
says.
“It’s fine, I should wake up anyway, I don’t want to be
late.” I get up, he puts his arm around me then walks me
to the bathroom. I take a bath, the water is so warm I
don’t want to get out. But I have to go to work.

My phone is ringing, I left it on bed. I walk out of the

bathroom wrapped in a towel, my phone is in his hand.
“It’s your dad,” he says.
“Thank God!” I know he would’ve answered it if it was
someone else.
I call dad back, putting him on loudspeaker while I
moisturize my body.
“Nokuzola are you with your cousin?” he asks.
“Umh, no. But we’ll be together at work,” I say.
“Please get her and come home,” he says.
“Why?” My body starts feeling heavy.
“There’s a little accident, you have to tell your bosses
and come home.”
Xolani wraps his arms around me.
“Is everyone alright?” I ask.
“Yes, everyone is alright,” he assures me.
I’m a bit relieved but still scared. My mind just goes to
my mother, I don’t know why.
“Hey, everyone is alright, you heard him,” Xolani hugs
me tighter.
“But he can’t just call us home without any emergency,” I
say.
“There are family emergencies that are not bad. Do you
want me to drive you?”
“No, thank you.” I appreciate it but I don’t want my dad
to feel disrespected. I think I can drive, I just have to call
Nale first.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

The only thing I can do is pray that whatever accident

happened didn’t leave anyone permanently injured. I
called home last night and everyone was okay. I’m trying
my best to stay calm, Zola is driving. Then I receive a
text from Khanyisa asking me to buy breads for her on
the way. Very strange of her to ask me favours but I ask
Zola to make a stop at the garage and get them.
There are people on the road, walking towards our
home. There are some who are leaving as we arrive. I
was okay this whole time, death didn’t cross my mind.
But this is exactly what village people do when there’s
been death in the family. They dress up, put things over
their shoulders and flock in and out, in numbers.
Zola stops the car before it’s even properly parked. I
open my door, leave Khanyisa breads and my bag
inside the car. We make our way in, Thami didn’t go to
school, he’s outside the door.
I ask him what happened but Zola’s mother appears.
“Please come inside.”
We walk inside the kitchen, get sat down on the chairs.
There’s Khanyisa’s mom too, someone who hardly
comes here. Their faces don’t show good news.
“Where is my mother?” I see things being moved out of
her bedroom by Khanyisa.
I get off the chair, already screaming because they are
looking at me weirdly and Khanyisa is moving things out
of my mother’s room.
“When your uncle called Nokuzola we had just
discovered your mother unconscious in her bedroom,”
she says.
“Unconscious? Where is she is? Is she conscious now?”
Zola holds me back.
“The ambulance came and they told us she’s passed
on,” she says.
My mother was sick, yes. But she wasn’t gravely sick,
she’s been on medication since I was 10 years old and
the doctors promised us that if she eats healthy, drinks
her meds properly she will live long. 48 is not long.
“Phephisa sisi,” Khanyisa’s mom holds me as Zola starts
crying too.
She could’ve died while I was here with her, I would’ve
had a chance to say goodbye and buy her last perfume
and cuddle on her bed. Knowing how much I needed
her, why did God take my one and only parent? Why
would He be so unfair to one person her whole life and
then take her so unexpectedly? I really don’t know what
that man is ever going to do to convince me that he
loves me.
.
.
.
It’s been a day since we came home and got the news. I
wake up to the pain feeling fresher. I have to wake up
before everyone and start doing some chores around
the yard because Khanyisa’s mom said if I don’t, I will
forever oversleep in the mornings and get lazy. I’m
boiling water so that when they wake up from the
rondavel they will have warm water to bath with. Thami
comes in, joining me.
“How did you sleep?” he asks.
“Not good, I’m not going to lie. I just don’t understand
how she slept fine and woke up dead.” It makes no
sense, maybe an autopsy will give answers.
“She drank pills,” he says.
“Whaaat? What pills?” This is news to me.
“Didn’t Ma tell you? Auntie overdosed, we don’t know if it
was a mistake, maybe she thought she was drinking one
pill feeling pain somewhere.”
“Why would she have pills next to her in the first place?”
No, no, no.
And they had the nerve to make it sound like she just
woke up dead. Is that even a phrase? Literally she didn’t
wake up.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” he regrets it.
I’m crying again, leaving everything and going to my
uncle outside. Why would they hide how my mother
died? I’m her daughter, I deserved to know as soon as I
got here.
“Malume, did my mother overdose?” I ask.
He looks up, eyes widened. I need answers.
“Did she? Who left her with the pills?” I ask.
“It was a mistake, I thought I left them in the cupboard,”
he says.
“So my mother killed herself and you gave her a recipe
to do so?” I’m hurt beyond understanding. That can’t be
a mistake. I said I will take my mother and give him
space to be with his wife.
“She didn’t kill herself, why would she want to leave
you?” He stands up and tries to hold me.
I don’t want to be held, now it makes sense why all of
this never made sense. My mother would’ve dozed off
after receiving the right amount of her medication.
“Did she even overdose herself?” At this point I don’t
trust anyone.
“You have to calm down, your aunt is already having a
hard time processing this. Throwing accusations like this
won’t help because you know my heart, you know your
aunt’s heart. Why would I stay with my sister for
decades and then decide to kill her now?”
“Because you felt like she’s a burden to you and your
wife,” I say.
“That’s not true,” he denies it.
But I can see the guilt in his eyes.
My mother was killed.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 40
ZOLA

A family comes together when mourning, in most cases.

However ours have broken apart, Nale has been mad at
my parents after finding out that her mother overdosed.
It wasn’t supposed to be something they hid from her, I
understand that. But I will not accept her overburdening
my parents, especially my dad, with her anger on top of
everything he’s been going through. His aunt is here, my
grandmother’s stepsister who doesn’t give a day in her
life to check up on this family. But today she’s here,
rallying behind Nale and demanding answers neither
one of my parent have. My biological grandmother loved
my mother, she wanted my dad to marry her while she
was still alive. Unfortunately it only happened after her
death, but one thing I’m sure of is that my mother has
always had her blessing. So I’m not going to stand for a
mean grandmother I know nothing about to come here
and start mistreating my mother.

I want to be there for Nale, God knows I do. But I can’t

talk to her while she’s harbouring such ill feelings
against my parents. Khanyisa has been around, their
friendship has been rekindled by grief. Tomorrow is the
funeral, she’s not allowed out of the yard so I’ve been
doing most shopping alone, which makes my life better
because I prefer us not to be around each other at this
time.
My phone rings, it’s Xolani. He’s been very supportive,
against my will he will have some of his people attending
the funeral.
“Hey Hadebe,” I answer.
“Makoti, how is it going?”
“Just busy, nothing much is happening.”
“I’m around your village, I thought I’d drop you a few
things to give you comfort,” he says.
“You didn’t need to.” I know he’s not just around my
village by mistake, he intentionally came here.
“Come out for a few minutes, I won’t come too close,” he
says.
I leave the dishes and quickly fix myself in my upside
down bedroom, then walk out. Nobody is paying much
attention, everyone is busy, aunt’s body is coming home
this afternoon.

His car appears behind the old church building, still

nobody sees me, I’m free as soon as I disappear around
the corner. I open the door and hop inside, he parks at
the side of the road.
“So you just happened to drive by?” I ask.
He smiles, “I swear, I was also surprised seeing the
familiar road.”
“Mmmm. So what are you here for?” I ask.
“A few things, I know you’re busy.” His few things include
two large shopping bags and folded cash that he says I
should drop on isoso for Nale.
“Where is Nzalo?” I ask.
He sighs, “Don’t ask me about that mad boy.”
“Hhayi-bo what did he do?” I need him to be supportive
to Nale during this period.
“He’s just like his father,” he says.
I don’t know what that means, I haven’t talked to Nzalo
in a while.
“Let me not keep you.” He pulls me for a kiss.
I really appreciate him coming here, it’s very thoughtful
of him.
.
.
.

It’s easy to think that just because someone has certain

disabilities that limit them from becoming active
members of the family, their absence will be slightly felt.
But that's not the case. Thami cries, my dad cries, every
one of us cries when she arrives in a coffin. I’ve had an
aunt my whole life, I don’t know a life where she’s not
present. Just coming home to her lifting her arms and
touching me, looking happy. I will miss that, I will miss
her obsession with scents and how she’d make a
statement whenever she comes out of her bedroom
after taking a bath, smelling like heaven.
“Mntaka sisi!!!” the grandmother from nowhere starts
wailing louder than everyone, so the attention moves
from people who had real connections to auntie and
goes to her.
“Only if you could talk Bazamile and tell us what
happened,” she cries.
Nale is triggered to cry harder, Khanyisa takes her inside
the house.
My mother took care of umntaka sisi until the last day.
I’m not going to watch anyone trying to tarnish her
name.
The coffin is taken inside after the body viewing below
the kraal. I wait until all the rituals are done then ask my
dad to the side.
“Please tell your fake aunt to leave,” I say.
He sighs, “That’s what I want to do but I can’t.”
“Why not baba? Now everyone thinks my mother killed
auntie. She’s coming out of nowhere, claiming umntaka
sisi and making it sound like the only one person who
took care of her killed her,” I ask.
“I talked to your mother, she’s calm. The goal is to get
the funeral done peacefully before other things are
addressed,” he says.
“Okay, but don’t blame me if I put my hands on her.” I’m
not going to let anyone from this family to abuse my
mother, she’s the reason why there’s even a thing called
a home here.
.
.
.
NALENHLE
Seeing her coffin going down was the end for me. I have
cried, my chest is dry, my eyes are always itching. But
now I’ve accepted that nothing I do or say is going to
bring her back. She is in a better place, they say. At
least now her soul has left the body that I’m sure she felt
trapped in. A body that didn’t allow her to speak or see.
It will forever hurt me that she passed on without seeing
my beautiful face. I hope the picture of me she had in
her mind came close to what I really look like.
Her room was cleared, I would’ve loved to spent the
night there. I make myself a cup of tea and go sit behind
the house, it’s a quiet spot.
I thought I’d be alone, but MaSibisi has managed to find
me.
“This is not the mood you should be in, you will make
your mother look back instead of forward. Don’t sit like
an orphan,” she says.
I laugh, “I am an orphan gogo, what are you saying?”
“You are not an orphan while I’m still alive. You have a
grandmother and a home in Pietermaritzburg,” she says.
“I’ve never been there,” I say.
“You will go there now, this is not a safe environment for
you after what happened to your mother,” she says.
“I stay in Tongaat anyway, not here,” I say.
“That’s even better, when you’re off you can come and
spend time with your Pietermaritzburg family,” she says.
“Okay,” I say.
“Right? I will take some of your mother’s clothes, your
aunt is almost her size.”
“Okay.” I kinda want to be alone.
She kisses my cheek and goes away. I know about her,
she once came for Christmas a long time ago when I
was still a kid. She’s sweet to me, that’s the only thing I
care about honestly.
.
.
.
I’m in my thoughts, just trying to figure out how this life
thing worked in my mother’s world. Then I hear a
mayhem in the house. I thought such things happen with
rich people who fight for inheritance. How can I block my
ears?
“Is this how you thank my mother?” Zola comes out of
nowhere with her short self, shouting angrily.
I don’t know what she’s talking about, her mother and I
haven’t said anything to one another. I did what she told
me to do while she was on the mattress. I only had a
few arguments with her father.
“I bought some of those clothes you’re giving away.
They haven’t even been cleansed for Christ’ sake!” she
continues to explode in anger.
“Call Mr X and vent to him,” I say.
“Nale if I put my hands on you it would look bad.”
Zola should leave jokes to comedians. No short girl will
ever beat me.
“Call Mr X,” I tell her again, because whatever she’s
going through I can’t help her.
“Your brand new grandmother is not taking shit, unless
that shit is you,” she says.
I swear this girl has anger issues. I’m not going to stop
drinking my tea and go argue about clothes. Whoever
takes them, takes them. Nothing is going to bring my
mother back.
“Fuck!” she curses, taking her short self back to the
house.
Thank God, I can now drink my cold tea in peace.
.
.
.
I finally get back inside because it’s getting cold outside.
I check the pots, there’s some food
I warm it and dish for myself. MaSibisi has packed the
small bag she came with.
“Is it not too early to leave?” I ask.
“Your uncle’s wife wants me out of my sister’s house,”
she says.
“That’s sad.” I sit down and eat my food.
Zola comes in, she grabs MaSibisi’s bag and empties
everything against MaSibisi’s disapproval. Zola is slowly
replacing Mysterio, because what in the short people’s
wrestling world is this?
She finds some skirts that belonged to my mother and
takes them away.
“This child has been very rude to me, very rude!”
MaSibisi is having an out of body experience with Zola.
“Because you keep coming for her mother,” my uncle
says.
“I haven’t called out anyone’s name,” she says.
“But you’ve been talking to Nalenhle, accusing my wife
of killing Bazamile as if you ever cared for her,” he says.
“Hhayi-ke, Nalenhle is a grown girl. I didn’t tell what to
think, she saw everything for herself.”
“You have disappointed me many times Nalenhle, but
this one takes the cup.” He stands up and leaves. Thami
follows him.
“What did you tell them I saw?” I ask.
“Don’t mind them, they thought I’d let them kill my
sister’s child and then rip off her daughter. They saw that
you’re now financially well and decided to eliminate your
mother.”
I laugh with my R88 bank balance. Financially well, me?
I’m yet to receive what people offered for me in the
funeral yesterday.
“You think I’m rich?” I needed a good joke, I really did.
“You have a source of income,” she says.
“Yes, because Zola got me the job.” I may act like a rich
person online but that doesn’t mean I am rich. The
house her grandkids see in pictures is Nzalo’s, the food I
post is the food I eat when Nzalo has taken me out. This
iPhone, I thought I won it before finding out a man
bought it for me.
“Does she have inside connections?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say.
“Oh, she’s one of the top people inside?”
“Yes, she’s one of the bosses. Didn’t you see her car
outside?”
“Wow, Skhundla has been blessed.”
She packs her bag again and puts it on couch, then
walks out looking for her sister’s daughter-in-law. I doubt
she still wants me to visit Pietermaritzburg.
My uncle and I will probably talk at some point. His
disappointment in me is unjustified. Firstly, he lied about
my mother dying in her sleep. Then he said he left the
pills next to her by mistake. Only for his wife to reveal
during the service that she was the last person my
mother spent time with. He lied to me, for no reason,
making it hard for me to understand what really
happened to my mother. According to his wife, she was
happy in her last moments. They held hands, she told
her about my stomach cramps and assured her that she
was going to check up on me in the morning. That’s the
memory I would’ve liked to hold on to, if he didn’t tell me
different versions of what happened.
I’m the one who is disappointed in him, really.
.
.
.

NZALO HADEBE

Winnie really thought he was joking when he said he’s

got work to do. She still lied to him, wasting his time. His
girlfriend lost her mother, he couldn’t even be there for
her because Winnie thinks the world revolves around
her.
He removes blindfolds from Onathi’s eyes and pushes
her inside the door. Then he closes it and locks it.
Winnie’s eyes pop out when she sees her daughter. She
no longer undermines him now, does she?
“Your precious daughter decided to join you,” he says.
“Onathi has nothing to do with this, she has exams
coming up.” She stands up like she’s going to do
something with one leg chained to the bed.
“You should have thought about that yesterday, when I
was begging you to talk.” He takes his wrist watch off
and grabs a chair.
“Onathi didn’t I tell you to stay low?” Winnie scolds her
daughter.
“I thought he was my new tutor,” the girl says.
She’s younger than Lwethu but with the long weave and
layers of make up on her face one would think she’s in
her 20s already.
“A tutor who looks like a plumber?”
Nzalo chuckles and dusts off his blue overalls. By the
way he wore this after getting the girl. He looked really
nice as a tutor.
“Why am I here?” the girl is shaking.
“You’re here to make your mother talk.”
“We will see!” Winnie won’t surrender, she made up her
mind as soon as she realized who he was. He can kill
Onathi if he wants.
Nzalo grabs Onathi and ties her around the chair.
Winnie doesn’t look moved. Poor girl won’t stop begging
for forgiveness. He takes out his driller and kneels down
to Onathi’s foot.
“Each failed question gives your daughter’s feet a cute
hole décor,” he says.
“You mean your sister? I’m sure MaMkhwanazi will be
very happy to find out that you’re disfiguring her
daughter. Oh, and your uncle too. Imagine him finding
out that his only daughter can’t walk because of you.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, simultaneously
with Onathi.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 41
NZALO HADEBE
She’s fooling him, there is no way. That’s what he
initially thought but Winnie’s nonchalance as Onathi
begged for mercy proved that she didn’t care that much
about her life. He tapes Onathi’s mouth to shut her up
and grabs Winnie up.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asks.
“I don’t think you’re stupid, it’s what you’re doing that I
think is stupid. I’m not hiding anything from you, your
precious mother at home is, I’m just a legal guardian,”
Winnie says.
Onathi’s tears keep pouring out. Winnie has been her
mother her whole life, even though she knew that she’s
not her biological mother but all these years she’s been
under the impression that her biological mother died and
her father’s wife raised her since she was little. Phindile
is her father’s well-connected cousin who looks after
them since her father has legal issues and can’t live as a
normal person. She knows about the murder her father
committed, it’s still everywhere on the internet.
“What are you to MaMkhwanazi?” Nzalo asks.
“She’s my cousin-in-law,” Winnie says.
“So Musa is her cousin?” His whole life feels like a joke.
Musa is MaMkhwanazi’s family, all this time she’s been
pretending.
“From her mother’s side, their mothers were siblings,”
Winnie starts singing everything out.
In African terms, Musa is MaMkhwanazi’s brother. Her
brother killed his mother for her to marry his dad and
pretty much take everything.
“How do I know that you’re not lying?” he asks.
“By looking at Onathi and telling me if she wasn’t light
skinned who she’d look like,” she says.
Nzalo turns and looks at Onathi. Yeah, everything is a
fuckin’ scam. Onathi does look like his uncle a bit, it’s
just not glaring because she’s of different skin tone.
“When was she born?” he asks.
“2004,” Winnie says.
“Why doesn’t babomncane know about her?”
“You can ask your mother that question," she says.
He folds his fist, clenching his jaw. “Call her my mother
again!”
She sighs, “Okay, ask your father’s wife.”
He takes his watch and walks out of the door, leaving
them locked outside.
His uncle picks up the phone after three attempts.
“I told you not to call me for your madness,” Xolani says.
“I’m sending you an address, come immediately,” he
says.
“Nzalo, until you have a plan on how you are going to fix
the mess you created, don’t call me to no address,” -
Xolani.
“Babomncane you have to come here as soon as
possible, it’s urgent.” He drops the call and sends the
address. His uncle shouldn’t take 30 minutes coming
here, his patience has run thinly.
.
.
.

Xolani pulls up, he didn’t want to come but Nzalo made

it sound important.
“This better be important,” he says, walking up to the
stoep where Nzalo is standing.
Nzalo doesn’t respond, he just opens the door and lets
him inside.
Kidnapping them is not a solution, he will just go to jail.
“You called me here for this rubbish?” he asks looking at
the teenage girl with swollen eyes and a tape around
her mouth. Nzalo goes to her and takes it off.
“I didn’t harm them, you are here to listen what her
mother said,” Nzalo.
Xolani turns to look at Winnie. “Ya, slayqueen.”
“Hi,” Winnie smiles, none of this scares her. She’s not
the one Nzalo should be keeping in this old house,
there’s a large life waiting for her, with or without Onathi.
“What do you have to tell me?” Xolani asks.
“Your ex lover has something to tell you, not me. But ke,
meet Onathi," Winnie says.
He turns to the girl, “Hi Onathi, nice to meet you.”
Nzalo clicks his tongue. “She’s fuckin around, Onathi is
your daughter, apparently. Winnie is just a guardian, the
real mother is MaMkhwanazi and Musa is her cousin.”
“Just like that? Le nsumansumane ikhandwe kuphi?”
Xolani. His head will burst from this folktale he's hearing.
“Look at her carefully, beyond skin tone,” Nzalo says.
Onathi is crying again, begging to be let go between
hiccups.
“2004 baby…what date?” Nzalo refers to Winnie.
“December 25, she’s a Christmas baby. I came into her
life around May, the following year, she was still a little
baby,” she says.
“You were with MaMkhwanazi in 2004?” Nzalo asks.
“We had a relationship, that’s why I don’t understand,”
he says.
“Did you ever see her pregnant?” Nzalo.
“No, I’m not even sure how much I saw her that year. I
was a hustler, but she never told me that she was
pregnant. Never!” he says.
“Musa doesn’t have a child and this girl resembles you.
She’s crying because she’s been living with fake
parents. Now I need to do a DNA test between the two
of you, the results will determine what I do next,” Nzalo
says.
“I need to call Phindile,” he says.
Nzalo stops him, “I will handle it, the most important
thing for you babomncane is the DNA test. You said I
must fix this, right? That’s what I’m doing, don’t interfere
until I ask you to.”
Xolani takes a deep breath and looks at Onathi again.
There’s a good chance that she’s his, anything is
possible with MaMkhwanazi. What’s confusing him
though is why she gave her away, knowing how much
he’s always wanted to have a daughter? Even if she
doubted paternity, later in life he made it, they could've
conducted DNA tests and he would’ve became the best
father to her. When Onathi was born his brother was not
in the picture. Yes, they had problems because he had
no money and wasn’t always around, but they were still
in love.
“Hello sisi,” he says to Onathi, stepping closer to look at
her. He wants to set her free, whether she's his or not,
he just can't stand a little girl crying like this. After what
he went through with his parents as a son, he always
prayed for a baby girl.
“No babomncane, I’m keeping them here until the
results come back.” Nzalo is mad.
This could be his daughter for crying out loud!
.
.
.
MaMkhwanazi’s day wasn’t good. None of the phones
she wants to get hold of go through. It doesn’t make it
easy that Musa is breathing down his neck. Winnie has
always been a tikline though, that woman doesn’t even
love Musa, she’s only there for the benefits.
“Ncane!” Nzalo calls her name, walking through the
door.
She turns her phone to silence and walks out of her
room. Nzalo has been scarce, she didn’t pay attention
because the mother of his girlfriend kicked the bucket
anyway.
“You finally missed us,” she says, smiling.
Nzalo looks at her with his forehead creased.
“Can we sit down and talk?” he asks. It’s a good thing
that Msindisi is not home. He wouldn't have let this
conversation take place.
“Yeah. How did the funeral go?” she asks as they grab
seats.
“I think it went well,” Nzalo says.
He thinks? So he didn’t go. Maybe they broke up, that
would be great news.
“I’m yet to cook. What do you want us to talk about?”
she asks.
“Do you have a child ncane?” Nzalo.
“Yeah, three,” she says, her mind is on Musa’s tikline
who switched her phone off.
“I mean a biological child that’s your own,” Nzalo says.
Huh? She frowns, her chest is slightly pounding.
“Ingane? Mina?” She's in disbelief.
“Yes, a child ncane,” Nzalo says, his voice firm.
“You are insulting me. Do you know if this was a village
you would’ve paid a whole cow for these allegations?”
“Only if you were a maiden. But you are a grown, sexual
active woman with ten bottles of Gyna Guard in your
bathroom."
“Are you out of your mind Nzalo?” Her lips tremble.
She’s already stressed, now this.
“Ncane do you have a child?” Nzalo asks.
“I really wish I had one but the only thing I’ve ever had
that was close to a child was a tedbear that your father
bought me for Valentines Day,” she says, with a straight
face.
Nzalo sighs, “I’m not talking about tedbears here.”
“God knows how much I prayed to set my foot in labour
ward.” She looks up, forcing tears to come out. “I didn’t
care even if it was going to be an ugly baby, I just
wanted to have someone who calls me Ma.”
“With my dad only, not any other man?” Nzalo asks.
“Yes, I had seen what a great father he was to you and
your siblings,” she says.
“So you observed him for a long time before marrying
him?” he asks.
“Observe? No. Please, let’s stop talking about this, it
takes me back to a dark place.” She wipes off imaginary
tears.
Nzalo waits until the imaginary directors in her head say
“cut”.
As she stops acting her emotional scene, he asks;
“What is your relationship with Winnie, the mother of
Mazwi’s child?”
He knows something, she can already tell. Maybe that’s
why Winnie switched off her phone, she’s betrayed her.
“I know Winnie through my church friend,” she says.
“A church friend was the reason you called her after I
had a conversation with you, and told her about the
undercover lady babomncane had hired to track her
steps?”
She puts her habds on her chest. “Me? Who said I…?”
“I have evidence, so please ncane." He’s fed up with the
acts.
“I can explain Nzalo, there’s a good explanation for this.
I know it looks like I betrayed you, but that’s not the
case.”
“I’m listening,” he says, intensely glaring at her.
“I don’t want your uncle to hurt innocent people,” she
says, her voice cracking.
“Why do you care so much? Are they not just
strangers?” he asks.
“I had a vision to save them,” she says.
Nzalo sighs. How did he miss it all these years, a
woman he’s adored so much is a pathological liar!
“There’s somewhere I want us to go,” he says.
She swallows hard, her eyes widened out. “Where? I
have to cook for Msindisi.”
“By the time he comes home we will be back,” he says.
“You are scaring me Nzalo, the way you are looking at
me," she says.
Nzalo smiles, “Relax ncane, I just had a rough day, plus
Nale’s situation.”
.
.
.

They walk in, she’s a bit frightened walking in this cracky

house with worn out paint and dodgy metal door. Her
heart almost jumps out of her throat when her eyes land
on Winnie tied to an old bed.
“Nzalo what is this? Are you now a thug like your uncle?”
She’s shouting for the wrong reasons, she’s not here to
ask questions.
She turns her eyes to the corner, there is Onathi.
“Nzalo, no!” her voice trembles.
“Do you know her?” Nzalo asks.
“Umhhh!” she clears her throat. “I can’t say I’ve ever
seen anywhere.”
“You just know Winnie?” Nzalo asks.
“My friend knows her, that’s how I know her.”
He looks at Winnie, “Is that true?”
“She’s my husband’s cousin,” Winnie says.
“What? Hhayi nginebhadi! I think it’s because my
husband died, I need another cleansing. Now I know
every Tom, Dick and Harry. Every nobody husband!
Who is her husband for me to know? Does his name
matter in the grand scheme of things?”
“Phindile stop acting, I’ve been in this dusty house for
three days with no proper food,” Winnie begs.
“Who are you to call my name?” Now MaMkhwanazi
looks prepared to throw hands.
“What weight does your name hold that Winnie can’t
mention when she talks?” Nzalo asks.
This feels like a gang-up now, real tears start coming
out. Msindisi must be home wondering where she went.
She’s come too far with these children, she genuinely
loves them.
Nzalo pulls out a gun, now it’s time for business.
“Where is Musa?”

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 42
Xolani knows he started a fire and now it won’t be easy
to put it out. Had he known what he knows now, he
wouldn’t have gotten Nzalo involved. Nzalo is ready to
kill and his ‘possible’ daughter is there, locked with
Winnie and MaMkhwanazi. Nzalo doesn’t want to let any
of them go. MaMkhwanazi tried her luck but it didn’t
work. Nzalo finally knows that his mother’s murder was
planned and executed by someone he’s believed in and
trusted so much.

He's been living like a hooligan, Xolani can’t even

recognize who he is anymore. There’s still two weeks to
go before the DNA test results come back. Xolani still
wants him to let Onathi go, she’s also a victim in all this.
He walks in to Nzalo’s house just after he comes back
from the gym.
“We need to talk,” he says.
Nzalo sighs, “Is it that important? I need to have
breakfast and proceed with important tasks of the day.”
“You are being unfair to Onathi,” he says.
Nzalo knew that’s what he came here for. Finding out
about Onathi made him forget about his mother’s justice
that he’s claimed to fight for so long.
“Her loyalties lie with Musa, I don’t want any loose end. I
will keep her until the results come back, if you’re her
father then you can be a superhero dad and save her.
Then I will deal with MaMkhwanazi,” Nzalo.
“You are not going to kill anyone, right? If she was
involved in your mother’s death then you will let the law
play its course,” he says.
Nzalo chuckles, “Now ‘if’? I thought all along you said
she did it. Now after finding out that you might be a
daddy for her it’s ‘if’.”
Xolani sighs heavily, “I just don’t want you to be hated by
your siblings and possibly new cousin.”
“I don’t care, it’s an eye for an eye. Once I have one
piece of evidence that she killed my mother, I will wipe
each and every one of her family because clearly this
was set-up by all of them.”
“I just want you to be careful, don’t make emotional
decisions. Have you spoken to Nalenhle?” Xolani asks.
“I’m going to reach out to her, I don’t even know how I’m
going to start explaining myself. When she needed me
the most, I wasn’t there,” he says regretfully.
It’s been heavy two weeks for him, from the day he went
to Hluhluwe. Nale needed him, but she needed a better
version of him that she could’ve leaned on for support.
He’s something he can’t understand himself. Nale is
already going through a lot, she doesn’t need him as a
burden.
“I think they had a fallout, she might be needing you
more than you think,” his uncle says.
He nods, he has to find a way to see her. They are back
from the village.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

I think it would be dumb of me to still expect a lot from

people after everything I’ve been through. So I’m not
even mad at how distant Nzalo has been since my
mother passed on. As soon as I did all that I needed to
do after the funeral, I left. People need their space, my
uncle and I are still not on good terms because he wants
me to apologize. Zola says I allowed a grown MaSibisi
to bully her mother. I love my aunt, I called her this
morning to check how she’s holding up. She was the
closest to my mother. I have not opened my mouth and
said any bad thing about her. I had an issue with my
uncle and I told him to his face. I don’t owe Zola any
apology. Her mother hasn’t asked any apology from me.
Bygones will be bygones.
She got here first and went to Mr X’s house. Avoiding
each other is what we always do when we are not
seeing eye to eye. Nzalo is on his way here. I didn’t
expect his call, I thought he was out of town or
something, dealing with top priority things.

My phone rings, it’s Msindisi. I hardly get calls from him.

“Hello,” I answer, very surprised.
“Hey, how are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” I say.
“I heard about the news, I tried calling you once and you
didn’t pick up. Did everything go well?” he asks.
“Yes, it was all good. Thanks for checking up,” I say.
“I will see you, hopefully tomorrow after work. Hang in
there, I know it’s hard but it gets better with time, I’ve
been there,” he says.
“Thank you.” I really appreciate this.
He’s not someone I expected to get words of comfort
from.

I hear a car outside, I know it’s not Zola. I usually wait

for him at the door but today I just want to lie on the
couch and continue eating my crispy chips. I have eaten
almost half the packet.
He walks in, wearing a hoodie jacket. He looks shady,
like he woke up from the street corner.
“Hey,” he leans over and kisses my cheek.
I sit up, making space for him.
He hugs me, “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” I say.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No. For what?”
He releases a deep sigh. “I know there’s no reason good
enough for me to be not the first person to check up on
you everyday when you wake up. But I want you to
know that you’ve been in my prayers since your mother
passed away.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” I say.
“Babomncane told me that you had a fallout with Zola.
What happened?”
Mr X talks too much. What was the need for him to say
that?
“It was a little misunderstanding,” I say.
“Okay…” He holds my hand and kisses the back of it. “I
hope you don’t feel alone, by the way you look beautiful
with a chiskop.”
It was a must, I didn’t shave off my head by choice.
“I won’t burden you with what’s going on in my life. Just
know that I love you, I’m always with you in my heart. No
pain stays forever, it will get better with each new dawn.
And you will be stronger than you were yesterday.”
“I believe my mother got the peace she wanted. I’m not
depressed, I’m just grieving and I will be okay in time.
Do whatever you have to do, don’t worry about me,” I
say.
“It’s impossible not to. Do you still want to try and find
your dad? We can look for him after the storm, getting
your mother justice doesn’t have an expiry date,” he
says.
“No, I don’t want to find him.” I don’t want to go around
telling people that my grandfather is my father too. The
dad subject is not something I want to talk about
anymore.
“Okay. Do you want us to go out for dinner?” he asks.
“Not really, I will eat noodles and go to bed, I’m tired,” I
say.
“Can I join you?” he asks.
“Here?” I’m surprised.
“Yes, why not? I will go home and change, then come
back. Unless you want to be alone,” he says.
“No, you can come,” I say.
“Thank you.” He kisses my forehead and looks at the
empty packet I just threw on the floor. He picks it up as
he stands.
“I’m coming back, again I’m really sorry for not being
there sthandwa sami. Do you want me to bring
anything?” he asks.
“No,” I say.
He sighs heavily, “Okay.”
.
.
.
NZALO HADEBE
He has to talk to Msindisi. MaMkhwanazi is not home
and he’s in the dark about everything that’s happening.
Chances of him believing anything evil about
MaMkhwanazi are very slim. But if she just disappears
like this he will report to the police, that’s why Nzalo
came to explain the situation. MaMkhwanazi denied
everything about Mazwi and cried a storm. He could’ve
just cracked her skull with bullets, but he didn’t. He
couldn’t bring himself to harm her. He walked out feeling
like a coward. MaMkhwanazi didn’t hesitate to send for
his mother to be killed but on the other hand he’s
thinking about it. Strange enough, he still has a soft spot
for her. She knows the real her, normally he wouldn’t
tolerate someone like her, but here he is today.
“You’re here,” Msindisi says with relief as he walks in.
“Sho. Kuhambani?” he asks.
“Nothing, just that ncane hasn’t been home for two days
and she didn’t tell me anything,” Msindisi says.
“Oh,” he can’t even fake it.
“Do you know anything?” Msindisi asks.
“Yeah, let’s sit,” he says.
They go to the lounge and sit.
“I’m keeping her somewhere, she was involved in our
mother’s murder,” Nzalo says.
“That’s not true. Is it Xolani who put that in your head?
You better let her go.” Msindisi stands up, rolling up his
sleeves.
“She has a child, she’s a teenager now,” Nzalo says.
“I don’t care, just bring her home otherwise I’m calling
the police.”
“Try it mfana wami,” Nzalo dares him.
Wrong guy! Msindisi takes out his phone and calls the
police. Nzalo grabs the phone away before anyone picks
up. A fist follows on Msindisi’s jaw.

Xolani walks in, he knew something like this was going

to happen that’s why he followed Nzalo. He breaks them
apart.
“Wena uyahlanya, you’re really mad,” he says, pointing
at Nzalo.
He hasn’t been using his brain lately.
Msindisi fixes his shirt and attempts walking away.
“Whoah, stop. We are searching this house,” Nzalo
says.
“Searching for what?” Msindisi.
“Evidence, starting in her bedroom.”
Xolani sighs, defeated.
.
.
.
Nzalo is turning the bedroom upside down. Msindisi is
forced to look for imaginary evidence because his
brother has turned into a police. Xolani refused to step
inside this bedroom. Msindisi lifts the bed. He’s not sure
whether he’s looking for a gun or dead body. Officer
Nzalo just said evidence.
But definitely sure, he’s not looking for his boxers under
his stepmother’s bed. So what is this?
They’re old but he still remembers them. They have a
knot tied at the side.
He puts down the bed, wearing a huge frown on her
face.
“Hey look, my…” he doesn’t finish.
Nzalo runs to the bathroom, gagging with vomit. What
the fuck?
Msindisi puts away his old boxers. This probably means
nothing, the bed just hasn’t been moved in a long time.
He opens the jug Nzalo looked in before running to the
bathroom. It’s loaded with sputum and yellowish fluid
that looks like mucus from bacterial infection. Everything
he ate threatens to come up.
Nzalo is hovering over the toilet seat. Msindisi pulls his
leg, almost tripping him. But that does the trick, he
bends over the seat and everything just comes out.
He goes to the sink and rinses his face.
“That jug ncane uses when cooking, she measures
water with,” he says.
“Fuck you, mgodoyi!” Nzalo rushes to the seat again,
more stomach content comes out.
Xolani wasn’t going to enter his brother’s bedroom, they
didn’t get along while he was still alive. But he’s hearing
a gagging match, something is wrong.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 43
NALENHLE

I ended up making turkey and veges. As exhausted as I

am, I couldn’t let a man come for a sleepover and eat
noodles for dinner. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have
cooked, I took my precious time preparing this meal.
I’m already half way with my plate and the person I
cooked for is still staring at his food. Maybe it’s not
cooked up to his standard.
He catches me looking at him and picks a spoon. He
only eats two full spoons then throws down the spoon,
covers his mouth and rushes to the bathroom. Can men
get pregnant? I don’t understand this.
I get him a glass of water. He’s really throwing up.
I give him water, he rinses his mouth and drinks some.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I have an upset stomach,” he says.
“Should I make you something to drink?” I know a quick
remedy for an upset stomach.
“No, thank you. I will need more than that to be okay,” he
says.
We go back to the lounge. I assume he’s going to sleep
with an empty stomach. My food tastes good, so I know
I’m not the cause of his upset stomach and nausea.
“Maybe you need a doctor,” I say.
“Psychological doctor,” he says.
“That’s deep.” I see he’s not himself, there is something
he’s going through. But I know I can’t share whatever it
is, I have to focus on myself.
“Can I go to bed?” he asks.
“Yeah, I will clear up and join you.” We are just going to
sleep, I can’t have sex until next week. Not that I’m
thinking about it anyway.
I wash the dishes and leave the kitchen clean. I need to
fill a bottle of water, just in case he throws up again.
.
.
.

I suggested that he goes and sees the doctor because

he was throwing up in the morning again. It’s not just an
upset stomach, he’s really sick. I didn’t see Zola at work,
I hope we just missed each other, she’s not missing
work because of Mr X who runs multiple businesses. I
take a taxi home, while on the way Msindisi texts me,
saying he hasn’t forgotten about today. I even forgot that
he promised to come and see me.
I get home and do some laundry, then put rice for
boiling. Nzalo hasn’t said anything, I hope he went to the
doctor. I don’t want to lose another loved one.

My phone rings, it’s Msindisi.

He’s outside, I thought he’d come a bit late.
Flowers?
“Are those mine?” I ask.
“Yes, I had to get you something to lift up your mood and
by the smile on your face, I passed,” he says. It’s not
just flowers, he has a box of chocolates and a bottle of
wine too.
I lead him inside the house. I should’ve bought cold
drink, our juice ran out this morning.
“How much are you renting here?” he asks.
“R2.5, we pay half each,” I say.
“Not bad,” he looks around, nodding.
His features are different from Nzalo’s. He has a baby
face, there’s something innocent about him.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“I’m okay,” I say.
“No, I mean really. I have lost both parents, I was still in
school when my mother passed and it really felt like the
end of the world,” he says.
“It does. It’s crazy that the actual person who brought
you in the world would just leave you. I can’t explain the
gap I feel in my soul, a huge part of me is gone.” I don’t
think anyone understands, that’s why I leave my
thoughts in my head.
“And people are telling you how to be strong?”
I laugh, “Bro! As if I want to beat Jabu’s record whose
mother died when she was three. I don’t give a fuck who
else lost their mother and continued to live.”
“Don’t listen to them, I know how people are when giving
their condolences. Deal with your emotions now, don’t
hold back the pain, it’s not going to miraculously go
away. Don’t live up to anyone’s expectations, there are
times when a person can’t be strong and that’s okay.”
“You want me to cry now.” I open the box of chocolate, I
will eat and cry later.
He laughs, “Not now, I’m not a good shoulder to cry on.”
“That’s why you bribed me with expensive chocolate and
flowers.” I don’t buy chocolate that’s worth more than a
bag of rice.
“Something is burning,” he says.
Fuck, the rice!
I rush to the kitchen and take it off. I will cook curry later.
I get two glasses and take the wine to the lounge where
we are chilling.
“Oh no, I have a Christian-part-time-witch mother, I don’t
drink,” he turns down the wine.
So it’s only me who has to get drunk.
“I know you drink,” I say.
“I don’t,” he lies.
“Msindisi, I have seen pictures on Facebook.”
He laughs, “Occasionally.”
He drinks, that’s it.
“Did your brother go to the doctor?” I ask.
“What’s wrong with him?” He frowns.
“He was throwing up all night,” I say.
“Is it?” He laughs, harder than I anticipated.
Maybe it’s an inside joke.
“I’m not joking, he was sick,” I say.
“No, he thinks too much. We saw sputum mixed with
yellow mucus in a jug that ncane uses to cook at home,”
he says.
“Ok, I don’t have to hear more.” I don’t want to flush my
wine down the sink.
“My boxers were also there, under her bed,” he says.
What the fuck?!
“Why?” I’m shocked.
“Until I see her, I have no explanation. There were a lot
other things, dark things, I really don’t know what got
into her head.” He’s not even mad about it.
Had it been me I would have fetched a witchdoctor from
Mozambique already.
“Msindisi do you know how dangerous it is for someone
to steal your underwear? There are people who lost their
underwear in childhood who are struggling to conceive
babies.” I can drop names, that’s why most people dry
their underwear indoors.
“But why would she not want me to have babies? That’s
what I don’t understand.” He has so much faith in her.
“So that your father’s name will die in future,” I say.
“That’s her husband, why would she want that? I think
there’s a misunderstanding but Nzalo doesn’t want me
to see her,” he says.
“Why? Is she not home?” I ask.
“No,” he looks away.
There’s something happening in that family. Nzalo went
to Hluhluwe, I wonder what he found.
“Let’s not talk about me. I heard that you wanted to find
your father, are you still looking?”
Sigh!
“Sorry, I shouldn’t be asking such personal…”
“No, it’s fine. I found him, he’s dead,” I say.
“Aw! That’s sad news, in a way.” He doesn’t know how
to react.
“I’m happy for him, trust me he wouldn’t have wanted to
meet me. What his son did to him is nothing to what I
would’ve done to him,” I say.
“Oh, you’ve met his family?” he asks.
I roll my eyes, “I’ve been with his family my whole life.”
“Fuck! Don’t tell me it’s what I’m thinking Nale.”
“It is, unfortunately. He wasn’t just a family member, he
was my mother’s father. So basically I share a father
with my mother, I’m my mother’s sister.”
“Holy fuck!” He covers his mouth.
“So don’t trust anyone just because they hold a parent
title. The world is a dark place.” I hope he starts looking
at things differently. I don’t expect his love for
MaMkhwanazi to just die, but he should ask questions
and seek answers when necessary.
“How did you deal with that though?” he asks.
“I don’t know if I’ve dealt with it, many things happened
in a short space of time. My mother dying, her brother
and I having a fallout. Which I hate because her death
should’ve brought us closer, we are all half siblings.”
“Oh fuck, not half siblings!"
“We are, I have a 47 year old half brother," I say.
“So now you’re having a sibling fight or what?” he asks.
“No, it’s things that happened after my mother’s death,
we clashed. That’s why I’m alone here, his daughter
inherited the fight,” I say.
“That’s sad. Do you need a friend?”
I roll my eyes, laughing. I do have friends, I do need time
to be alone, so it’s working in my favor anyway.
“I’m serious, let’s go out, maybe you will find a friend.
We won’t drink, it’s Thursday. We’ll eat and search for a
friend that meets the requirements.” He’s so silly.
I don’t need any new friend but going out won’t hurt. We
are almost the same age, he understands my version of
going out.
“Let me change,” I say.
“No heels, we are not going to any fancy place.”
“Why? You think I don’t deserve a rich friend?” I’m
offended.
He laughs his lungs out.
.
.
.

ZOLA

He just came home, he wants us to talk. Something has

been off lately. His mind seems to be somewhere else.
He’s here but he is not present. I hope he wants to talk
about that because I don’t know if it will be nice when it
gets to the point where I address it.
“How was your day?” he asks, sitting down with a beer
glass.
“It was okay,” I say.
“Did you see Nale?”
“No, but I heard she was at work.”
“You need to resolve this,” he says.
“I trust we will, we always do,” I say.
He takes a sip and then sighs. “I’m sure you’ve seen
Nzalo coming in and out, and blowing my phone with
calls.”
His phone is always ringing anyway.
“Musa didn’t have a daughter and he’s Phindile’s
cousin.”
I won’t lie and say I’m surprised, this had many layers to
it.
“What else?” I ask.
“I think she was also doing things to them, to keep them
gentle towards her. There are things we found in her
bedroom. But we’ll solve that, it’s only Msindisi who
might be a problem because despite of everything he
still wants her.”
“So now Nzalo believes you?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says.
I expected to see relief, this is what he’s been fighting
for.
“What is the next step?” I ask.
“He wants to kill her, it’s only a matter of time,” he says.
I understand, I’d want the same if it was my mom. But is
it worth it? He can let the law handle it without getting a
criminal record.
“Nokuzola,” he heaves a deep sigh.
“Yes?” His body language doesn’t give me peace.
He rubs his hands together, “I might have a daughter
with Phindile.”
“MaMkhwanazi!” I don’t know why he’s using her school
name. “You want to make a baby with her?” I really am a
calm person by nature, I’m still sitting down with my
temper composed.
“No, she’s already a teenager. The girl we all thought
was Musa’s, she’s just his niece. She’s denying it but
Winnie confessed everything, we are just waiting for
DNA test results to come back.”
Whoaaah! Slow down.
“What are you saying?” I’m confused.
“Phi…MaMkhwanazi had a baby while she was in a
relationship with me. She’s been taking care of her all
these years, hiding her.”
“No, I don’t understand. A woman carries a baby for 9
months. How didn’t you know that she was pregnant? Is
it possible to be in a relationship and not see each other
for over 9 months.”
“I used to be homeless Nokuzola, I was in Joburg
hustling throughout my twenties. Knowing how much
she hates me now, anything is possible. I don’t think she
ever loved me, she was interested in my brother. That’s
why she hid the child, he wouldn’t have married her if
she had a child with me,” he says.
“So you are saying you have a teenage daughter?” My
heart just sinks. I don’t care that much about a daughter,
but he has her with MaMkhwanazi.
“Possibly,” he says.
“And you did a DNA test without telling me? The same
woman you always say you want to build a family with?”
This whole thing makes me mad. He proposed marriage
to me and then kept me in the dark about something that
can change our relationship.
“There was no time, Nzalo is holding them hostage,” he
says.
“I don’t care Xolani, you could’ve called me. It would’ve
taken less than 5 minutes. How long ago did you do the
test?” I ask.
“It hasn’t been long,” he says.
“But it wasn’t yesterday, right? You had enough time to
tell me and you didn’t. So much for someone who
claimed to be an honest, open man! Everything you’ve
been doing lately is sneaky.”
“That’s not true, I’m honest,” he says.
“Honest? What was the sleeping arrangement in
Hluhluwe?” I’m not stupid, I know Robyn ended up in his
lodge after Winnie kicked her out. I thought he’d explain
himself, but no, he thinks I’m a shallow thinker.
“Sesiyalwa kanti? Are we fighting now?” he asks.
“See, you can’t answer a simple question. Lies are not
part of the ups and downs I’m willing to endure in a
relationship. I’ve been nothing but supportive to you, I
even involved myself in your fights with your ex-
girlfriends. Don’t take me for a fool.” I’m done with this
conversation.
“Wait!” He stands up and grabs my arm.
“What?”
“This is not fair, we can call Robyn right now and ask her
if anything happened between us,” he says.
“Because I was born yesterday, right?”
“You’re accusing me of being a liar, insinuating that I
cheated. How else am I going to prove my innocence?”
“Unlock your phone and give it to me,” I say.
His eyes bulge out. He won’t do it, would he?
"I'm not interested in your past, please don't ever talk to
me about your family issues or MaMkhwanazi. In fact,
anything that doesn't concern me I don't want to hear it,"
I say.
"But I called you that night Nokuzola, I was alone."
I'm really done with the conversation.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 44
NALENHLE

I made a bowl of noodles for dinner, I’m tired coming

from work. Last night I had a good time with Msindisi,
even talking to him helped me. I feel bad that I disclosed
some things that Nzalo doesn’t know yet, but Nzalo
hasn’t really been around. I found it easy to talk to
Msindisi. We didn’t find any friend by the way, nobody
met the requirements.
I’m watching news, I’m an adult now, I care about what’s
happening around the world. I hear the door opening, I
didn’t lock. It is is’fikanamthwalo, Nokuzola Victoria
Thabethe with her bags.
“Uphelile umendo?” I ask. Did the “marriage”?
Sometimes I don’t know how to shut up, I can’t help it.
She doesn’t answer, she passes to her bedroom. I didn’t
hear any car pulling up. Could it be that she took a taxi?

I know we are not on talking terms but I need this

information. I follow her with my noodles, she’s
unpacking her bag on top of the bed.
“Where is the car?” I ask.
“What car?” she asks.
“The one you got in community of property marriage,” I
say.
“You have never seen me buying a car, so ask me about
no car.” Emotions are high.
I get inside and sit on her bed. I won’t give the apology
that she wants but I do miss her.
“MaMkhwanazi has a daughter,” she says.
“A what?” Oh, hell no.
“With Xolani.”
Shut the front door!
“Since when?” I’m shocked.
“17 years ago. Ngiphumile kuloya muzi, I’m done with
that family for good,” she says.
“You broke up with Mr X?” I ask.
“No, but I want nothing that’s about his family. He’s still
busy with family related matters, so I came back
because really, angizingeni,” she says.
“Yoh!” I can’t believe this. “So where was this child all
this time?”
“She was with Musa and Winnie, her legal guardian.
Musa is related to MaMkhwanazi, it’s a lot of bullshit
happening in that family. I don’t even know why you had
to go and cry at that funeral.”
“Haaa! Don’t even start, I’m not the reason why you fell
in love with MaMkhwanazi’s babydaddy.” I feel sorry for
her, if MaMkhwanazi makes it through this, then she is in
for a lot of drama.
“When last did you talk to malume?” I ask.
“Yesterday,” she says.
“I haven’t spoken to him.” I want us to address the
elephant in the room.
“You’re waiting for him to come and grovel? You really
never consider how other people feel. He lost his sister,
someone he’s been through every highs and lows with
since their early twenties. And here you are, making it
look like he had something to do with her death.”
“How did I do that? I asked him questions because I
wasn’t satisfied with the stories he gave me, which I had
every right to do.” I don’t see how I’m wrong, my uncle
lied to me twice.
“That’s the problem I have with you, Nale. I addressed it
before, when you ruined a birthday lunch. You gather
stones, then stand back innocently and watch someone
throwing them. What do you think happens when long
distant relatives arrive for a funeral and find the
deceased child not speaking to a certain family
member? Isolating herself, as if there’s a problem. Of
course they thought someone killed your mother. Even
when MaSibisi said it, you didn’t beat the allegations.
You didn’t protect the family that raised you.”
I’m dying for MaSibisi’s sins now. On my end, I was
justified to feel the way I was feeling. How does that
make me responsible for what a grown MaSibisi said?
“I had to grieve my mother’s death, question what really
happened, be hands-on during the preparations, and
still protect your 47 year old father for lying?” Ay, mark
me absent. I’m just one person, I can’t handle all that at
once.
“Don’t you think he had a good reason?” she asks.
“No, there’s never a good reason to lie,” I say.
“Oh, that’s very rich coming from you!” She’s making this
about me now.
I have never lied about things that could mess with
someone’s mental health.
“Unless he acknowledges his mistake, I’m not going to
apologize,” I say.
“That’s selfish, you know people will blame him and say
he’s abandoned his sister’s child,” she says.
“I don’t care what people say, I know my truth.” I no
longer want to have this conversation.
We are not going to see things eye to eye. She’s not
hearing me, I’m also not hearing her.
“Should I make you noodles? It’s what we are having for
dinner.” I know she’s not in the mood for cooking, she
hardly ever is.
“Please, I will cook tomorrow,” she says.
I know tomorrow won’t come.
.
.
.

I’m happy she’s back, we cuddle up on the couch

watching a telenovela. I didn’t finish Msindisi’s
chocolate, we are having it while watching. I’m also
having a glass of wine.
There’s a car outside, I don’t think we are expecting
anyone. It could be Mr X.
A knock comes, it’s definitely him. Nzalo would’ve called.
“Go and open,” she says.
“What if it’s a killer?” I stand up and go to the door.
I ask who it is before opening. It’s someone sent by Mr
X, here to drop the car keys, the car is outside. Mr X told
him to bring it here.
Zola comes behind me, furious.
“I told him I don’t need it anymore,” she says.
“I don’t know sisi, I was told to bring the car here.” The
guy is really not getting involved, he’s getting in another
car with two other guys and leaving.
“I see what he’s doing,” Zola is still ranting.
Some people have nice life problems. My problems
never include someone forcefully giving me a car to use
as my own.
“Come on Zola, you can’t be mad about a child that was
made before his pubic hair turned grey,” I say.
“He doesn’t have grey pubic hair, he’s only 43.” Defence
mode!
“Whatever, but being this mad at him makes no sense.
Imagine how he feels finding out that he has a teenage
daughter whose life he hasn’t been a part of. He needs
your support, you’re always spending his money.”
“Oh, so you like him now? You’re his spokesperson,”
she asks.
“No, I’m just using common sense. You can be mad at
him and still support him.” I should’ve became a
relationship counselor, I’m good at fixing people’s
relationships.
“He’s also sneaky, I think he’s still sleeping with Robyn.
When he came back from Hluhluwe he didn’t want to
have sex with me, he said he was tired, imagine!”
I also don’t like Robyn and I don’t even know her. But
she’s getting too much credit now.
“Did Robyn’s uncle receive a letter from Mr Hadebe?” I
ask.
“No,” she says.
“And how long did she know him before you? She
couldn’t get him then, what makes you think she’s going
to get him now when you are in the picture, driving his
car and owning a spare key to his house?” Fuck Robyn,
she doesn’t stand a chance.
“You are right yazi. Why am I even bothered?”
“Exactly! I know what I’m talking about, I’m always right.”
“Yeah, so where is Nzalo?”
I really don’t know what that has got to do with this
conversation.
My wine…I need a refill.
“Let me call this man,” she minds her business again.
Let’s mind it together. “Put him on loudspeaker,” I says.
She gives me a look before doing so.
“Makoti,” Mr X answers.
Zola takes a deep breath, “Xolani there is a car here.”
“I’m glad he brought it safely,” he says.
“What did I say when I left?” She wants to refuse the car.
God forbid, we could be permanently going back to taxi
life.
“You’re fighting with me, Nokuzola. I’m not fighting with
you, so I don’t see the need to stop fulfilling my
responsibilities as your man,” he says.
“That’s being a bully,” Zola says.
“How? You’re the one bullying me. You don’t even give
me a chance to prove you wrong, you make things up in
your head and believe them.”
“What did I make up? I asked you where Robyn slept in
Hluhluwe,” she says.
“I booked her another room, I was on the call with you
that night. What do you take me for?”
This is complicated. I don’t know how believable this is.
“Because you hide things Xolani,” she says.
“I didn’t, if it was any other person I would’ve told you
about the situation. But I already know how you feel
about her, you were going to fight anyway.”
“I don’t know, you could be lying even now. But thanks
for the car, I will see you tomorrow,” she says.
“So we are good now?” he asks.
“Yeah, I overreacted a bit. I thought about it and realized
that you probably need my support more than drama.”
What the fuck? I said that to her, she didn't think it by
herself, she can give credit where it’s due.
“Ngiyabonga sthandwa sami. I miss you a lot, the house
is cold again.”
She smiles, “Did I leave with the heater?”
“Yes, you know my favorite one is between your legs.
Ungiphathele kahle kodwa imbawula yami? Are you
taking care of my heater?”
My ears! I don’t think I will ever recover from this.
Imbawula? I take Mr X as an uncle, a senior citizen.
Zola giggles and walks away, her loudspeaker suddenly
off.
But I heard what I heard, I’m not going to unhear it.

.
.
.
AT THE THABETHES

Khululiwe walks in with two folded pillowcases.

Thabethe is already in bed. His sister’s death hit him
hard and the pain gets worse each day. His wife tries to
be supportive, she’s put their differences aside for a
while.
“I just talked to the girls, they’re together again,” she
says.
It didn’t surprise her, lately they are always fighting and
making up.
Thabethe acknowledges with a nod.
She sighs deeply. “Don’t you think you should celebrate
Bazamile's strength instead of grieving her death?”
“Celebrate Khululiwe? There’s nothing to celebrate,
nothing!” he says.
“I know that’s how it looks like, but she had a long life
that some people of her condition didn’t get to live. She
was happy, most of the times,” Khululiwe says.
“And then I killed her,” he says.
“You didn’t. I don’t know why you said that to Nale, you
didn’t have to lie to protect me. I had nothing to hide, I
was just waiting for the right time because I didn’t want
her to think her mother was a selfish person.”
“You did nothing, it was all my fault,” he says.
“You’re confusing me, Thabethe. What was your fault?
We both found her dead in the morning,” Khululiwe
looks at him confused.
“I was scared you were leaving me, I went to the
rondavel and spoke at the alter,” he says.
“What did you say?” Khululiwe asks.
“I complained because things fell apart after I brought
his spirit home. I asked him not to let you leave me, to
protect my marriage. I wasn’t asking for him to take
Bazamile away in order for you to stay,” he says.
“But why would you do that? Our problems didn’t start
that day. If Nale finds out about this she will think
something else.” Khululiwe sighs, this keeps getting
worse.
“I didn’t know his response would be something so
brutal. Bazamile wasn’t suicidal, we had left her
medication on her bed before, she didn’t attempt
suicide,” he says.
“Wow, Thabethe!” She’s speechless.
Obviously she wasn’t going to leave him after his sister’s
death. But did it have to get there? Bazamile had a
daughter, she still needs her mother. Regardless of her
conditions she was Nale’s mother.
“How am I ever going to face Nalenhle again?” She
shakes her head in disappointment. Her husband
could’ve dealt with the situation differently, without
involving the crazy ancestor who had just been brought
from the wild.
“She had just found out the truth about her paternity,
next thing her mother died. You don’t know how guilty I
feel,” he says.
Khululiwe sighs. “Let’s just sleep, we will talk about this
tomorrow. I’m getting a headache.”

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 45
NZALO HADEBE

Msindisi has been giving him a hard time, despite of

everything that MaMkhwanazi has done, he still believes
she has a good explanation to make. Now more than
ever Nzalo believes that MaMkhwanazi’s killed his
mother, which makes him despise his father. How he
didn’t raise any questions for so long remains a mystery.
His father was a well-connected man, what his uncle did
within a few weeks his father could’ve done it within two
days. Clearly he never cared, maybe he was in it too.

He's home to tell Msindisi that he can come with him

tomorrow and have his moment with MaMkhwanazi,
that’s what he’s been fighting for. From here he’s going
to see Nale. Only God knows how he’s ever going to
make it up to her. Nale needs him, he knows that too
well.
“My brother!” yells Lwethu, running to him at the door
and hugging him.
“Lwethu what are you doing here?” He’s shocked,
they’re embracing each other.
“I missed home and decided to take a bus,” she says.
“A bus?” He turns his eyes to Msindisi in front of them.
Why does it feel like a set up? Lwethu is going to join
forces with Msindisi and demand MaMkhwanazi back.
“Yeah, I had a good trip,” she says.
“Oh, what a surprise.” He hasn’t seen his sister since
their father’s funeral. Yes, he missed her but her timing
is wrong.
“You look horrible,” Lwethu says, not holding anything
back as usual.
He chuckles, “Wait until you start working. So how long
are you going to be home?”
“Until Tuesday,” she says.
“Wow!” His eyes go back to Msindisi again. He’s
enjoying this, isn’t he?

Lwethu is a child, to him she will always be regardless of

the long weaves she’s learnt to wear. If Onathi is really a
Hadebe then they will have two teenage girls. He’s been
hard on Onathi, which pisses his uncle off because in
his mind she’s already his daughter.
Lwethu disappears, he turns to Msindisi.
“Did you tell her to come home?” he asks.
“Lwethu doesn’t need an invite to come home.
Tomorrow we will have family dinner, bring ncane back
home,” Msindisi says.
Frustrating, stupid boy!
This must be how he frustrated his uncle too. There’s
something MaMkhwanazi did, because it can’t be that
Msindisi doesn’t see what’s happening.
“Winnie promised to take me to Musa,” he says.
Msindisi sighs, “I really don’t care about all that.”
“Our mother was killed by the same bustard Msindisi,
then we were lied to. People close to us helped him
escape prison and fabricated a story to cover up.”
“So you’re saying ncane can help someone escape
prison?” Msindisi laughs, shaking his head.
“Dad,” Nzalo says.
“Dad helped a man who killed his wife escape prison?”
“Think about it. What were the chances of him being in
the dark? Look how fast he moved on,” Nzalo says.
“I don’t know if moving on means you’re helping people
escape prison.” Msindisi is not hearing any of this. It
sounds too far fetched, like a story Nzalo just made up.
“What if I’m right?” Nzalo asks.
“Dad is no more, so are you going to punish ncane? And
then what, we become orphans?”
“We can take care of ourselves,” Nzalo says.
“Do you think Lwethu doesn’t want to have a mother? If
Onathi is our cousin, do you think she will be happy if
you kill her mother?” Msindisi asks.
“Our mother died, Lwethu will have to understand that.
MaMkhwanazi was never our mother, that’s why he had
your boxers and dirty jugs in her bedroom. As for Onathi,
unfortunately an eye goes for an eye.”
Lwethu makes her way back, their conversation is cut
short.
“When is ncane coming home?” she asks.
They look at each other. Then Nzalo clears his throat,
“Hopefully soon. Do you want to meet my girlfriend?”
Probably not the best idea but what else to do?
“The one who tags you on social media?” Lwethu asks.
Yep, that’s Nale. After he told her he likes keeping his
life private, she goes ahead and makes everything
public.
“Yeah, you have to meet her in person,” he says.
“Mmmm, okay.” She leaves them again.
Nzalo sighs with relief. It’s a pity that MaMkhwanazi
may come home in a body bag, because he doesn’t see
himself forgiving her.
.
.
.
NALENHLE
Nzalo called, he’s coming here to see me. I’m happy,
Zola went to Mr X, she lives for him now, and I was
bored out of my mind. I fix the lounge and wait.
It doesn’t take long before he arrives. Now I know what’s
keeping him busy, Msindisi told me. I don’t know if not
caring makes me a bad person. I just don’t care about
the situation at all. As long as he doesn’t go to jail, I’m
good.
I stand outside the door, my arms folded, my cheeks
spread out in a smile. Both doors open, he’s not alone.
WTF? Why is he bringing a girl here without asking me
first.
“Hey babe,” he kisses my cheek.
The girl is behind him, looking at the unfamiliar
surroundings.
“This is my sister,” he says.
“Oh, hi.” I’m a bit relieved.
“Hi Queen Nale,” she says.
I guess she knows me from social media. Am I famous
without knowing?
“Nice to meet you in person,” she confirms it. I’m a
celebrity.
“Let’s get inside,” I say.
“Umh, I have to rush somewhere. You guys can take a
meter taxi and go out for dinner, have fun.” He gives me
a bank card and says Lwethu will give me the pin.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“It’s work related emergency,” he lies through his teeth.
I look at this girl came to dump here. It’s a teenage girl,
what do we even have in common?
He kisses my cheek again. “I love you.”
Then turns to Lwethu, “Behave yourself.”
Does she have a record of not behaving?
How much is in this card? I need a few dresses before
we go to that dinner. I will be swiping.
.
.
.
ZOLA

He welcomes me at the door with open arms. I’m here

for one sleepover, to make up for the drama. He smells
good, as he always does. He smells like a successful
black man.
“You found your way back home?” He lifts my chin up.
“I did.” My lips welcome his, engaging in a sensual
nibble kiss.
He hasn’t been to his barber, I think because of
everything that’s been going on. His facial hair is
growing back.
“Let’s get inside,” he says, pulling my hand.
This house is my second home now. I don’t think I’ve
ever spent time with a man more than I’ve spent with
him. Sadly he can’t send his people to my dad on the
day agreed on because of the mourning period.
“Who is that?” A man is in his kitchen.
“Oh, that’s someone who’s going to teach you how to
cook in future, he’s here to make us dinner,” he says.
“I know how to cook,” I defend my below the average
cooking skills.
“Really? When are you going to cook for me? I’d be
happy to eat something that my future wife prepared for
me,” he says.
“On a special day,” I say.
“Everyday is special when I’m with you.” He opens the
bedroom door, we get inside.
It looks like we are going to have a little indoor picnic
here.
“I thought we’d have something while waiting for the
main course meal. Should I help you out of this?” He’s
taking the coat off from behind.
Then he puts my bag away, we both take our shoes off
and sit on the floor.
“So now let’s talk makoti,” he says.
Can’t we have these fruits and chips first?
“I love you, uyezwa?” he says, there’s a silent but after
that.
“I know and I love you too,” I say.
“It’s okay to be jealous when you love something
because it comes from a protective place. But too much
jealousy is toxic,” he says.
“Okay.” I don’t know where this is going.
“Nokuzola do you really think I would have wasted my
time with a short girl who shouted at me so loud that the
whole neighborhood could hear her? Then make plans
with her and even send a letter to her father. Why would
I do that if my heart was already with somebody else?”
“I didn’t say you’re with somebody else,” I say.
"Then why did we fight?" he asks.
“Because you didn’t say the truth Xolani.” I know I’m not
the crazy type.
“You don’t like the lady I was working with, either way
you would’ve been angry. But I apologize, you’re my
only one. I’m not going around giving your joystick to
anyone else.”
Yoooh! I look at him smiling at me.
“You can come and inspect,” he says.
“Let’s just drink our water.” His penis won’t have a last
seen date stamped on it anyway.
I trust myself, I’m no longer bothered by what happened
in Hluhluwe.
He takes a strawberry and brings it to my lips. Xolani
definitely watches Telemundo. He bites the other half
and then comes to kiss me.
“Ngeke ngik’phoxe mina Nokuzola,” he says, he won’t
ever disappoint me. Let’s see how this goes, I will trust
his word for now.
“Everything I said I will do, I will do. Nothing has
changed, I’m still going to marry you and have my
babies with you. My whole future is with you.” Every
word he says sounds meaningful.
I don’t think it changes nothing if he’s going to be a dad
to MaMkhwanazi’s hidden daughter. But I believe he will
honor his word to me.
“Can I say hello?” He nibbles on my lips while pushing
me down on my back. Then his hand slides between my
thighs. “Do you know that i-panty ayigqokwa
kwaHadebe?”
“I’m not allowed to wear an underwear?” I know he’s
joking because he would’ve told me a long time ago.
“No, you’re going to be my wife, right? So wongela bani
indoda yakho ikhona? Huh?” He kisses me before I give
an answer. His hand slides through the side and rubs
between my folds.
I feel my cookie soaking his fingers until they’re slippery.
He’s pleased. “See, your body wants me. Your sweet
kunt wants mama to take daddy in.”
I grab his face and deeply kiss his busy lips.
My panty stretches to the side, he rubs his tip around
the clit before dipping it in and out of my opening.
I hold my breath for a second when he pushes half
inside. “Babyyy!”
“Talk to me dali,” he says.
“Don’t rush me,” I say.
“I won’t, I promise,” he says and rushes his whole dick
inside me.
This is the quickest anyone can break a promise.
"I need you to cum all over me, Nokuzola. I want all the
salt driving you crazy out." He lifts my leg over his
shoulder and digs me out.
"Ohhh, fuck." It feels so good.
I want him inside me forever.
"I want all that, Nokuzola. It's all mine." He runs a race
on me, my clit starts vibrating.
He puts my leg down, lies on my chest. His upper body
remains still in its position, only his waist moves, his dick
is buried deeply in my core.
Warm fluid escapes as he moves his waist. Sexual
encounter noises build up around our genitals. The
harder he goes, the wetter the carpet under me gets.
I have to move in rhythm with him for us to leave this
room in time for dinner. I wrap my arms around his neck,
his moans are filling the room.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 46

The DNA results are back, Winnie said the truth. Nzalo
was hoping it wouldn’t turn out this way, this is
complicating things. Xolani excused himself and went
outside after seeing the results. He’s always wanted a
child, this could have been a dream come truth if it was
under different circumstances. Him and MaMkhwanazi
are enemies, they have been for years. He can’t forgive
her for anything that she’s done to him and his family.
But she has taken care of Onathi, she’s lived a good
fake life with fake parents. That child is going to need a
lot of counseling, she has traumas. Yes, she’s lived a
flashy lifestyle with Winnie, but everything was enjoyed
in secret. She had a “dad” on the run, her whole life has
been surrounded by liars, murderers, witches and gold-
diggers.
Nzalo can’t keep her any longer, they have to go right
now. He is bringing her home with him. It hasn’t sunk in
yet that he’s a dad. Every dream of his is coming true is
a very unexpected way. A daughter and a woman he
loves and going to marry. And he can’t even sit down
and celebrate because some people close to him are in
pain.
Winnie is still useful to Nzalo. But MaMkhwanazi's case
needs to be resolved immediately, soon people will start
asking questions, especially her church people.
“Babomncane, we have to talk first,” Nzalo says.
He stops, his brows furrowed. Time is going, his
daughter is in isolation with her ankles chained like a
wild animal.
“Onathi is not going to love you overnight and hate
people who raised her up. I know she’s just a teenage
girl but I need her to be tracked at all times. At least until
this situation is resolved,” Nzalo says.
“You want to put tracker on my daughter?” he asks.
“I need to know what she does, who she talks to, 24/7.”
“No,” he refuses without a second thought. Onathi needs
gentle care and protection, not invasion and torture.
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you,” Nzalo says.
He frowns. Who the fuck does this boy think he is?
“Let’s go,” he walks out with the envelope sealed back in
his hand.
Onathi is his daughter and he’s going to protect her at all
costs.
.
.
.

Winnie has given up, the moment MaMkhwanazi joined

them she knew it was either she chooses Nzalo’s side or
die here. Without MaMkhwanazi, Musa can’t do
anything. He also depends on MaMkhwanazi for
everything, from food to protection. So she’s sold them
out to save herself. The results are back, finally they
know that she wasn’t lying. Thank God MaMkhwanazi’s
mouth has been taped, she couldn’t confront her about
the betrayal.
Xolani goes to the bed and removes the chain around
Onathi’s ankles. At this point Onathi’s only desire is
freedom and life. Xolani’s arms wraps around her,
physically she’s weak. Nzalo made sure this feels like a
movie abduction, only feeding them dry bread and
boiled vegetables.
He doesn’t have a heart, there’s no trace of regret in his
eyes as he looks at his uncle taking out the physically ill
Onathi. Yes, she’s innocent in all this, but she’s
MaMkhwanazi’s daughter and all this time she’s enjoyed
life with Winnie and a long distant Musa knowing very
well that Musa faked his own death after killing a man.
The car takes off with Onathi, Xolani walks back in. Now
he wants to address MaMkhwanazi, this witch owes him
an explanation. He tears off the tape, MaMkhwanazi
starts crying for Nzalo not to do this. Nzalo is standing
against the wall, his hands in the pockets, staring as if
he has no conscience.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” Xolani asks.
She wipes her tears and looks at him. She doesn’t like
Xolani, and no circumstance will ever make her grovel to
him.
“About what?” she asks.
“Us having a child together. How did you hide this?”
“I don’t have a child with you,” she says.
He pulls out the results, he’s got proof right here.
“I don’t care what this nonsense says,” she doesn’t even
look at it.
“Do you even love her Phindile? Why would you give an
infant away? No matter how poor I was, I was going to
look after our child. Or your goal was getting on my
brother’s bed from day one?”
“Why are you still angry? Why can’t you move on like a
normal person?” She’s angry, this man has been on her
back for years. He’s the reason why they are here.
“If you do something to Onathi, I swear you will regret it
Xolani. You don’t know who I am, you paedophile!”
Xolani frowns, “What???”
“You’re attracted to young girls, that’s why you couldn’t
wait to take her to your house.” She looks at Nzalo and
begs, “Please don’t let him touch your sister.”
“My sister?” Nzalo frowns.
“Yes, that’s all I ask. In return, we will look for Musa and
make sure he faces the law for his crimes,” she says.
Winnie lifts her head. “What?”
“Musa killed a woman, I shouldn’t have protected him. I
shouldn’t have let blood blindside me. You don’t know
how bad I felt, the first three months weren’t pure love
between Sibusiso and I. I was guilty and trying to make
up for what my cousin did to his family.”
“Shut your stinking stew-hole up. You’re a pathological
liar!” Nzalo, shaking with anger. He will never believe
anything coming from her mouth again.
“So you’re going to kill me?” she asks, her voice still
lacks remorse.
“What would stop me?” Nzalo asks.
“Your siblings will never forgive you for that.”
She’s not lying, Nzalo knows it. Killing her will create a
division between him and his siblings, especially
Msindisi. He’s prepared to lose it all, his mother
deserves justice.
He looks at Winnie, “You will take me to Musa.”
.
.
.

He didn’t waste too much time, he left when Nzalo and

Winnie left for Hluhluwe. This child is already 17 years
old, going to 18. She’s lived her whole family with
different parents. He knows nothing about her, except
her name and that she carries his DNA.
“I’m Xolani,” he introduces himself after they stared at
each other for a minute.
She drops her eyes. As big and luxurious this house is,
it’s still not home. It’s still a foreign land and she doesn’t
know this man.
“This is difficult to me as it is to you,” he says.
She lifts her head, looking at him with teary eyes. “Is he
going to kill my family?”
“No, nobody is going to kill anyone,” he says.
“But he said he will kill my mom, my aunt and my dad.”
He takes a deep breath and lowers himself next to her.
“Don’t worry about that, Nzalo is just angry. He lost his
mother, somebody has to account.”
She blinks back tears. “I can’t lose my family.”
“Onathi!” he holds her hands. “Winnie is not your mom,
yes she raised you but Phindile is your real mom. And
I’m your dad.”
“If you are my dad you’re not going to let him kill my
family. You’re going to protect my heart for the first time,
I have already gone through a lot, I don’t need to go
through grief again,” she says.
“He won’t, I will make sure he doesn’t,” he says.
“Do you promise?” She has a beautiful, round face. Her
eyes almost look innocent as Msindisi’s.
“I promise,” he says.
“Thank you, Xolani.”
“So what’s the first thing you need beside catching up
with your studies?” he asks.
“I already took a shower and had something to eat. I
guess, I just need a comfortable bed and warm clothes,”
she says.
“I didn’t get a room fixed but that will be sorted soon.
Tomorrow we will get some clothes and then make plans
on how we are going to get your belongings from
Winnie’s house.’
“I don’t want to permanently live here,” she says with her
eyes widened.
“For your own safety, I can’t let you go back to be
surrounded by criminals and celebrating your birthdays
in hiding. You will see Winnie but you won’t live with her.
You being my daughter means my enemies, which
include your biology mother, can use you to get me.”
“I don’t even know you, Xolani!” she’s crying again.
He knows it will take time, she will adjust. There’s no
other choice he can give her.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

I don’t like spoilt, rich brats. But I can tolerate Lwethu,

she’s adorable. Today we came to the beach with
Msindisi. I haven’t been in a beach in years. I’m shaking
my small ass in the waves. My bikinis almost outgrew
me. Msindisi came here to be our guard, he’s looking
after our bags.
“You’re missing out,” I tell him.
“Na, I’m good.” He shields his face, looking at me
gulping down wine in a juice bottle.
“When is your ceremony again?” he asks.
“It’s not a ceremony, I’m getting cleansed and it’s
Saturday next week,” I say.
“The goat thing?” he asks.
I laugh, “Yes, you did it as well after your mother
passed, right?”
“Yeah, we did it.” He takes a deep breath and drops his
face.
“Where is your brother?” I ask.
He shrugs, “I don’t know.”
“I thought you guys would be united in fighting for your
mother’s justice.”
“I’m just confused, Nale,” he says.
“I understand, it’s a lot to process at once. Have you
gone to your mother’s house? Maybe just go there, pray
and sleep over.”
“I don’t know if I trust God. Isn’t he the same God that
ncane prays to?” He looks so stressed out and
confused. I don’t think Nzalo is thinking about how deep
this actually goes. He’s not considering those around
him. Not discussing anything. He’s taking no advices,
not checking up on anyone, as if this only affects his life.
“What does your uncle say?” I ask.
“Who? Xolani? I don’t talk to that person everyday.” His
dislike for Xolani is still alive.
“But knowing his history with MaMkhwanazi, do you still
think he was wrong for how he acted towards the
family?” I ask.
“They have history because they’re the same,” he says.
Now I feel sorry for Mr X, nobody deserves to be
compared to MaMkhwanazi.
“But you’re willing to forgive her and not him?” I’m
confused. Mr X is his blood, MaMkhwanazi is just a
stranger that married his father.
“I know her, I don’t know him,” he says.
“You know her?” Nzalo needs to come and kidnap this
one too.
“I mean I know the good things she’s done for our family
and the community at large. Bad doesn’t have to
outweigh the good,” he says.
“I just think this whole thing sucks. Your brother sucks
too.” I understand that he’s dealing with a family
situation that needs his undivided attention. But he’s not
the only one, Mr X is involved in the same situation and
he still checks up on Zola and make time for her.
“Don’t worry, Lwethu and I are here for you,” he says.
“And I appreciate that. But I need him to give me the
same support that I give him. I sleep in your mother’s
house with him whenever he’s going through grief. I
spent your mother’s birthday with him, I could’ve been
doing my things but I understood that he needed me.
Your uncle came the day before the funeral to see how
Zola was holding up. I never saw Nzalo, maybe he
called me twice and that was it.”
“Are you kidding me?” He’s shocked.
“I don’t take things personally and I don’t compare
myself to other people. But Nzalo has been consistently
away. Someone I fuckin’ consoled for a mother who died
before Michael Jackson. Now he can’t be there for me.”
He takes my juice bottle away. “I’m really sorry. I think
you need to get dry and put your clothes on.”
“I’m not crying,” I say, wiping my face.
“Yes, you are and people are looking at us.”
Shit, he’s right. Fuckin’ beach gossipmongers.
He puts a towel around me and goes to fetch Lwethu.
They’re still staring at me.
“He’s not my boyfriend and he wasn’t breaking up with
me.” I know that’s what they are thinking.
“I lost my mom…” I’m explaining myself to strangers and
crying.
“Oh my god!” one white lady comes and gives me a hug.
Two other ladies join in. Now I’m being consoled by
strangers, which is even more sad.
“Are those your friends?” the black one asks.
I nod.
“Okay nana, you have to go home, you can’t be at the
beach while you’re under a dark cloud. Is there any
elder you will find home?” She thinks my mother just
died.
“Yeah,” I nod, it’s too late to correct the narrative.
“Get my bag, Anna,” she sends the other one.
Before I know it, I’m crying on a white woman’s shoulder
and getting money contributions.
“Are we supposed to give her money?” my white beach
aunt is confused.
“In the black community siyakhalisana,” the black one
says.
I don’t think she understands but she does what others
are doing. I’m still wet but I manage to hold my money
safely.
Msindisi comes back with Lwethu.
“And then?” Lwethu.
“Take her home immediately,” says my new beach, black
aunt.
“We are going home,” Lwethu says, still looking at me
confused.
My white aunt gives me one last hug before letting me
go.
Msindisi folds our camp chairs while we are dressing up.
“What happened? Why were you crying?” Lwethu asks.
I don’t see why I should tell her my sob stories, she has
no money.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 47

Winnie has been under his roof, by force, which he

cares less about. She’s been drinking his water, eating
his food and breathing his air. She promised to give him
Musa, in return she’d have her freedom. But no, Winnie
actually thinks she’s smart. She thinks she will make him
drive all the way from Sandfields to Hluhluwe for
nothing. There’s no one here, not even a trace of Musa.
He unbuttons his coat, pats around his waist a few times
and then turns to her.
“Is this a game to you?” He’s livid.
“He lives here, this was his aunt’s house,” Winnie is
shaking.
There’s not even a pair of shoes Musa left behind. They
found the doors unlocked, it looks like he suspected
something was wrong and fled.
“Then where did he go?” he asks.
“I don’t know, I swear MaMkhwanazi is the only person I
can think of but she’s been locked up with me too,” she
says.
“Ey wena, you’ve been with this man for years, you
know everything about him. Think, now!” he kicks off the
empty bucket in front of him. Winnie trembles, there’s no
single place she can think of right now.
“I don’t know Nzalo,” she says.
“I said think. Or you need help? Should I give you a little
motivation to do so?”
“But you know that I’m not lying. Why would I come all
the way here, you can see that someone was here and
moved out. He couldn’t get hold of any of us, we had
security guards, they probably saw that Onathi and I
didn’t get home and helped him run away.”
“I’m not going to let you go, this was not our deal.” He
sighs heavily and approaches a frame on the wall. It’s a
picture of Musa, he probably forgot it behind. Lenja
iyacwebezela! On top of killing his mother,
MaMkhwanazi has been feeding him with his father’s
money.
“Phindile is full of shit!” he can recognize the shirt Musa
has on the picture. It’s the same shirt that he had
customized made for an event at work and lost it just a
few weeks after. If not to spite his mother, why else
would MaMkhwanazi give him Thobile’s son’s shirt?
“You want to punish the wrong person, I’ve been nothing
but open,” Winnie begs for mercy.
She has a life to live, a bright future ahead of her. If this
life fails, she has an option to turn her life around and
live an honest life. She doesn’t have a criminal record
and her marriage to Musa is only traditional.
“I can become a witness, I know everything,” she says.
“No, I want him dead, not looking smart in orange
overalls behind bars exploiting tax-payers. I want to kill
him, I want his family to grieve and mourn him the way
my family did.”
“What about MaMkhwanazi?” She’s gone through the
most horrific interrogation while the creator of this whole
mess gets lukewarm scolding and sits in bed
comfortably.
“I will deal with her,” he says.
“That’s what you’ve been singing the whole week.”
He glares at her icily. What she’s not going to do is
dictate her.
“I don’t think you will hold her accountable for anything.
Musa was young when he was asked to commit murder,
he’s already suffering…”
“Ey tsek wena, sfebe! Suffering yamasimba, you have
bodyguards and flashy cars, your so-called daughter
went to private schools, everyday nidla imali
yakwaHadebe.”
She shuts her eyes, cold shivers running down her
spine. “What do you want me to do?”
“Find your husband,” he says.
“Give me time, maybe two days.”
“I will, but I need to make sure you don’t betray me first.”
She frowns, “How?”
“Let’s go to the car, we are leaving.” He wraps a cloth
around her mouth.
He can’t just let her go, she probably knows
MaMkhwanazi’s friends and connections. He needs to
find something to hold against her but he definitely won’t
be keeping her any longer. Her family is already looking
for her.
.
.
.

Msindisi drives in his uncle’s house, maybe it’s his

second time here. It’s not that they don’t get along
because they can be in the same space cordially. They
just don’t know each other and from what he’s heard
and seen about Xolani, he’s okay with things staying
that way. He’s only here today because Xolani knows
where Nzalo is keeping MaMkhwanazi.
He knocks outside the door, a young girl opens with her
arms folded and eyebrows raised.
He doesn’t know her.
“Is babomncane home?” he asks.
“And who is babomncane?” She’s got an attitude.
“Xolani,” he says.
“Depends on who’s asking.”
Wow. “Msindisi,” he says.
“He’s not home,” she slams the door on his face.
Maybe she doesn’t like his name, that’s what it
depended on.
He pushes the door and walks in. He was just being
polite by asking.
The girl sees him letting himself in and screams like
she’s seeing a criminal.
The fuck! He looks nothing like someone who’d harm
anyone. He’s been told he looks cute and gentle his
whole life.
“I’m his nephew,” he says above her screams.
No, she continues.
Luckily Xolani appears, he seems to be panicking.
“It’s okay,” he holds her.
“Who is this brat?” Msindisi asks, this girl just annoyed
him.
“This is your cousin, not a brat,” Xolani says.
“Oh-hho. Can we talk privately?” He’s not interested in
the crying brat, he’s got more pressing matters to attend
to.
“I will find you in the office,” Xolani says.
He stays behind comforting Onathi, she cries everyday.
Msindisi goes to his home office and waits.
“That’s Msindisi, he comes after Nzalo, then there’s
Purity. Her real name is Olwethu, I think you two are
going to be friends,” he says.
“I don’t want friends,” she’s calmed down.
“That’s fine,” he heaves a long sigh. “Keep the door
close, don’t open for anyone, call me if there’s someone
outside the door.”
It will take time for her to settle in, she still wants Winnie.
Unfortunately he can’t give her that because Nzalo is
still holding Winnie and MaMkhwanazi hostage, which is
foolish at this point. This case should be taken to the
police now, Winnie confessed everything.

He walks in to Msindisi holding a cigarette. What the

hell?
“Usuyabhema wena?” He didn’t expect this.
His brother didn’t smoke, Nzalo doesn’t smoke, what is
wrong with this one.
“Sometimes, when I’m stressed,” Msindisi says.
“In my office don’t smoke,” he says.
Msindisi pays his instruction no attention. “You know
where ncane is, Nzalo went to Hluhluwe to look for
Musa.”
“So?” Xolani raises his eyebrow.
“I need to see ncane,” he says.
“For what?” -Xolani.
“She owes me answers and I don’t want to talk to her
while Nzalo is around,” he says.
“I don’t think it’s the right time, wait until your brother
comes back.”
“No babomncane, I want to see her now. It’s between
her and I, Nzalo didn’t live with us. His boxers weren’t
under his bed,” he says.
Xolani sighs heavily, “What do you suspect?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I want to talk to her. I can’t wait
for Nzalo,” he says.
“Okay, I do have a spare key, she’s in your
grandparents’ old house, the one in Sandfields.”
“Thank you babomncane,” he gets up and throws the
cigarette butt in the bin.
.
.
.

He’s hoping MaMkhwanazi will give him answers

because right now nothing makes sense. He’s confused,
not angry. Nale said his boxers were used for witchcraft,
he wants to know how true that is. He unlocks the rusty
door and walks in.
She’s sleeping in an old single bed that he can’t even
recognize. His father didn’t want to sell this house simply
because it held memories, but other than that there’s
nothing interesting here.
He stares at her in her sleep, he can’t bring himself to
accept everything that Nzalo has said about her. This
woman raised him, he’s never felt unloved.
He drags a chair and sits, before calling her and asking
her to wake up.
She blinks a couple of time before realizing who she is.
“Boy, when did you get here?” She’s happy to see him
regardless of the circumstances.
“Just a few minutes ago. How are you?” The chain
around her ankles makes him uncomfortable.
Nzalo is cruel, how can he do this to their ncane?
“I’m not fine,” she says.
“What happened ncane?” He wants the truth, no matter
how bitter it is.
She asks him for water, there’s an old bucket with a
mug. She sits up and drinks.
“To cut the long story short, Musa is my cousin, I was
scared to reveal that to the family because I knew it
would make you guys think I was behind your mother’s
murder.”
“And the girl, Onathi?” he asks.
“She was a mistake, my family suggested that I give her
to Musa,” she says.
“Did you help Musa fake his own death?” he asks.
“No, I wasn’t involved,” she says.
“Did dad know that he was alive?”
“He didn’t,” she says.
“But you did and you took care of him.”
“I was taking care of my daughter,” she says.
It makes sense; he nods.
Then he takes something out of his pocket. His boxers
that were tied into knots under her bed.
“Why did you do this?” he asks.
Her eyes bulge out. “Huh? What is that?”
“I found it under your bed. Why did you do it? These
knots, what are they for?”
“I don’t know this. Maybe Lizzy did it before going on her
leave,” she says.
“Aunt Lizzy doesn’t clean your bedroom,” he says.
“Maybe she did because I really don’t know what that is
for.”
“Nale thinks it’s weird, she says these things are
witchcraft.”
“Is it?” That girl has been nothing but trouble. Does she
think Nzalo will marry her?
“Yeah,” Msindisi nods with a heavy sigh. “It made me
think because at some point you were telling me not to
wash my own underwear and put them in your basket
for you to wash.”
“But it was all your clothes, not just underwear,” she
says.
“Still, it’s not normal,” he says, disdained.
“I was just trying to be a good mother, I didn’t know
Nalenhle would link it to her family activities. You need to
be careful with people like that because indlela yaziwa
umhambi.”
“I don’t know ncane!” He’s feeling a bit dizzy.
He stands up and goes to the door. His feelings are
mixed.
“Take me out of here Msindisi, we will sort this out at
home, please mfana wami,” she begs.
“I can’t, Nzalo will kill me.” He respects his brother,
always have and always will.
“Nzalo is confused, I guess it’s Nale feeding him things
like she’s trying with you.”
“Nale is a good girl,” he says, turning back to her.
“A good girl who tried ruining your father’s funeral, you
know that girl can do anything to have money for
alcohol.” She’s making sense, at the same time
confusing him.
“If anything happens to me your brother will go to jail
and you will never see him again,” she says.
He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.
Okay, he’s taking her home. Nzalo is making a mistake,
he’s letting emotions cloud his judgement. He’s losing
Nale and he doesn’t even realize it.
He can’t put her ankles off the chains so he picks her up
and goes to the car outside. Then he comes back and
locks the door.
She’s praying all the way to Xolani’s house where
Msindisi is dropping off the key.
“Don’t tell him you’re with me,” she says.
Msindisi nods, he’s still confused but at the moment this
feels like the right thing to do.

Xolani opens the door, he took longer than he expected.

“What kept you?” he asks.
Msindisi shrugs, “Nothing.”
“Are you okay?” Xolani studies his puffy face.
“I don’t know babomncane. Do you think I’m a mad
person?”
“Of course not, what makes you say that?”
“Because it feels like I’m stupid, I’m not in charge of my
own thoughts,” he says.
“It’s a lot to deal with, I know,” Xolani sympathizes with
him.
“She denied practicing any sort of witchcraft and said
she was just taking care of her daughter, which
benefited Musa by mistake,” he says.
Xolani chuckles, “And you believed that?”
“I don’t know,” he says.
“Does she still kiss you in your mouth?”
“No, I’m grown.” This disgusts him, luckily MaMkhwanazi
stopped after he reached 21 and began taking friends’
advices seriously.
“I just think you’re bewitched for real. The extra
affectionate gestures ruined your brain. MaMkhwanazi is
not your mother. If she can abandon and sacrifice a child
she carried for 9 months in exchange of wealth and
marriage, what makes you think she genuinely loves you
and your siblings?”
Msindisi shuts his eyes and releases a deep sigh. “Bye
babomncane.”
“Drive safely,” Xolani closes the door.
The car drives off, MaMkhwanazi sits comfortably. If
Xolani saw her he could’ve called Nzalo and ruined this.
As soon as she gets home she’s making important calls,
Nzalo will not get away with this.
She frowns, “Msindisi this is not the right road, you’re
heading north.”
Msindisi doesn’t respond, he presses his foot on the
accelerator.
“Boy? Boy boy?” No, he can’t change his mind.
“If you’re not taking me home take me back.” She knows
Nzalo is mad, but he’s held her hostage for very long
and didn’t harm her. She knows the devil called Nzalo,
she can deal with him. Msindisi is his soft boy, she’s
never seen him being evil.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 48
Tyres screech outside Xolani’s house, it’s Nzalo. He
planned to introduce Zola to his daughter later today.
Onathi is a difficult teenager but he understands
because she’s been through a lot for her age. Hopefully
her presence won’t cause a drift in his relationship. His
plans with Zola still stand, after the cleansing ceremony
he will be able to send his delegate to negotiate lobola.
Nzalo looks like he woke up in the jungle.
“Where is she?"
Xolani frowns, “Who?”
“MaMkhwanazi,” he says.
“I’m confused. Why are you looking for her here, kanti
umbeke kuphi?”
“I’m not a fool, babomncane. You are the only person
that has the keys to the house. Where did she go? She
fuckin killed my mother.” He’s forcing his way in,
screaming.
“Hey, hey!” Xolani stops him from going further in and
disturbing Onathi.
“Tell me what’s going on? Acting like a madman won’t
help you,” he says.
“You let her out,” Nzalo says.
“I haven’t set my foot there. Why would I let her out?”
He’s confused.
In all this madness he’s been nothing but supportive to
Nzalo.
“Then where is she? Ukuphi?” He’s not lowering his
voice.
“Msindisi went to see her earlier and…”
“No, you’re not serious!” he walks back, his hands over
his head.
“He was seeking answers,” -Xolani.
This is not what he expected from his uncle and
Msindisi.
“But you know he was on her side, why would you give
him the keys? What if she comes and kills us now?”
“Ey kahle wena, go and ask Msindisi where he took her,”
Xolani.
“I swear babomncane, if I don't find them uzosibona
isfuba senja esinamazenze!” he angrily walks to the
door.
Xolani takes a deep breath to compose his temper.
There’s more than one brat in this family.
.
.
.

He can’t panic in front of Lwethu. Msindisi is not home,

so he had to put his anger aside and sit with her
watching a reality show. Lwethu is absorbed into
strangers’ family, cold drama, even picking sides.
“They’re ganging up on Kourtney,” she sits up straight,
fiddling with her fingers.
He’s just seeing rich, bored women with no touch of
reality.
“Can you believe this? OMG!” Lwethu looks at him.
Nzalo looks back at her. What happened? Is he
supposed to be shocked too?
Finally, there’s someone driving in. It can only be
Msindisi.
He stands up, “I’m coming back.”
“You will miss out,” Lwethu.

He walks out to Msindisi coming out of the car, his T-

shirt winkled like it just came out of the cow’s mouth. He
takes something out of the car, but hides it behind when
he sees Nzalo approaching.
“Where are you coming from?” Nzalo asks.
“I didn’t know I have to report to you.” His eyes are red,
there’s soil dried on his pants.
“I will ask you for the second time. Where are you
coming from?” Nzalo.
“Kwanhliziyo ngiyise,” he says.
This boy is full of shit. Nzalo unbuttons his shirt and rolls
up his sleeves. He knows how old he is from Msindisi,
for years the age gap has instilled some respect
between the two of them. But it looks like Msindisi has
recently forgotten who is older between them.
“Don’t touch me, Nzalokayise,” Msindisi cautions. Then
he walks away with one female shoe in his hand.
Nzalo’s grabellar lines fold. What the hell?!

The car is not locked, he opens the door, there’s a scarf

on the seat. MaMkhwanazi’s scarf, that shoe also
belongs to her. Something is not right here.
He calls Xolani, his palms sweating.
“Babomncane, what did Msindisi want from
MaMkhwanazi?”
Xolani sighs, “Answers. Please don’t ask me because
he also didn’t tell me anything. Just that he didn’t want to
ask in front of you because you wouldn’t relate.”
“He just got home looking like a mess, carrying her one
shoe with soil dry on his pants. That’s why I want to
know what happened,” he says.
“What do you mean? Msindisi came back a long time
ago, he looked clean and he headed home after
dropping off the keys.” Xolani sounds confused, just like
he is. He is too old to lie.
“Didn’t he say how their conversation went?” he asks.
“She denied everything but I told him that she was just
deceiving him, then he left. Must I come over?” Now
Xolani is worried.
“No, Lwethu will know that something is wrong. I will
keep you updated.” He drops the call and looks inside
the car again. Definitely MaMkhwanazi was here, the
question is where did Msindisi take her?

He walks back inside the house, Lwethu is still watching

her thing. He passes to Msindisi’s room and finds him
out for a shower. There are clothes on the floor, Nzalo
picks them up for introspection but he can’t find any
blood. This gives him a huge relief, he wouldn’t be able
to handle it if something stained his brother’s white. He
already disappointed his mother by letting her death go
in vain, the least he can do is protect her children.
Msindisi comes out, he’s shocked to see Nzalo in his
bedroom. He was butt-naked, he grabbed something
from the wardrobe and hides his manhood.
Nzalo frowns. Does Msindisi think he’s gay? What would
he do with another man’s potatoes, he wasn’t even
looking at them.
“What are you doing here?” Msindisi asks, looking pretty
annoyed and uncomfortable.
“I want us to talk,” he says.
“Now I’m grown enough to have a conversation with
you? I’m tired, I don’t want to talk.” Nzalo has been
treating him like a boy throughout this case, if that’s
what it may be called.
“I know you took her. Where is she? I’m not going to kill
her, I just want to know so that I can make sure that we
are safe,” Nzalo says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He dismisses
and puts his shorts on, getting ready for bed. Msindisi
getting in bed before eating? Impossible.
“Msindisi, I’m your brother. I know sometimes I’m a
dictator but I will always have your best interest at heart.
Just tell me what you guys talked about and where did
you take her,” Nzalo.
“I left her in town, she wanted to do shopping,” he says.
“I’m not a child. Did you do anything to her? I have to
know so that I can help.”
“I don’t need your help. Can I sleep? Please.”
Nzalo sighs, “Okay.”
This leaves him no choice, he has to call the car tracking
company.
.
.
.

It’s almost midnight, his uncle won’t stop complaining

about leaving his warm bed for the freezing cold. This is
the exact spot that Msindisi was in an hour after leaving
Xolani’s house. It’s the middle of nowhere, they’re now
close to the bushes searching around for a sign of
MaMkhwanazi or whatever is it that happened to her.
“There’s nothing here,” he says.
Nzalo is not convinced even though they’ve been here
for more than two hours.
“Maybe he took her to his friends,” he adds.
Nzalo shakes his head, “No, I know he wouldn’t have
taken that risk. I blame myself for not letting him, now he
doesn’t trust me.”
“But this is useless, I’m tired. Let him handle this his own
way,” Xolani says.
“What if they had a disagreement and he killed her?
Msindisi uyigcokama, he wouldn’t be driving outdoors
with dirty pants and wrinkled T-shirt for fun,” Nzalo
insists.
“Msindisi can’t kill, he’s a very soft boy. Maybe he just
changed her location because he wants to play part in
fighting for his mother’s justice too. And he’s still seeking
answers about his underwear that was under the bed.”
“I hope so, I really do.” This is stressful.
Instead of going straight home, he’s going to pick Nale
up and they will spend the night together. It’s been a
while since they spent any quality time together.
.
.
.
NALENHLE
I don’t know what the time is, I’m woken up by someone
knocking on the door. I check my phone for time and
notice a bunch of missed calls from Nzalo. Is it him? It’s
almost 1am, I call him back, he answers and says he’s
at the door. Mameshane! I turn the lights on and look for
my robe. He better be coming here to tell me that
someone is dead or he’s been elected as the new
president. It has to be some shocking, breaking news.
I open the door, before I can greet he engulfs me in a
tight hug. He’s cold, wearing a short-sleeve shirt.
“What’s going on?” I’m confused.
“I came to pick you up, I miss you.”
He’s got to be kidding me!
“At this time?” Maybe he’s drunk.
Can coffee intoxicate someone?
“You had the whole day, is it only now that you’re
missing me?”
He kisses my cheek, “I’m sorry, I know I disturbed your
sleep. I was busy during the day. It’s okay, I can crash in
with you and go home in the morning.”
“Zola is home,” I say.
“But you don’t sleep together.”
Ay, I give up.
I let him in, I don’t know if he’s hungry or need a bath.
But I’m not that girl who will wake up at 1am to take care
of a man. I just fix the bed and get an extra blanket
because he’s cold.
I close the door and turn the light off. I’m sleepy, so is
he, we just kiss and sleep.
…

I’m woken up by his hands all over me. I didn’t sleep

well because he disturbed my sleep. I’m tired.
“What is the time?” I ask.
“It’s early, babe. Do you have condoms here?”
“No,” I don’t even know if I have them or not.
“What must I do? I miss you.” Now he misses me.
I don’t know where it comes from and why I must jump
to it.
“I think we need to redefine our relationship Nzalo,” I
say.
“Meaning?” He’s still touching me.
“Are we real good boyfriend and girlfriend? I haven’t
been feeling us ever since we became those titles, we
were much good as friends.”
He stops, “What?”
“I mean, you had my time when we were friends. I don’t
know if that was because you were still chasing, but I
was happy.”
“But you know the situation, Nalenhle. Don’t make it feel
like I just intentional avoid being with you.” Right off, he
can’t acknowledge shit.
“In life there will always be challenges, if you can’t teach
yourself how to balance life and relationship now, how
do you think it’s going to work in the future?”
“So in other words, I suck?” He puts the right words in
my mouth.
“As a boyfriend, yes. But I do think you’re a nice
person,” I say.
“I’m going through a lot Nalenhle, you don’t have to do
this now. Not when I need you the most in my life,” he
says.
“You don’t act like we need each other, Nzalo.” How can
he not see it?
We are in a relationship but we are going through
difficult stages of our lives without each other. What is
the point of being in a relationship? Having sex?
“Maybe we should have just remained friends,” I say.
“What?” He sits up, wearing a frown on his face.
“Are you fuckin’ breaking up with me, Nale?”
“I’m having a conversation, something you cannot do
lately. You can disagree with me and put your points
forward.” I don’t see why he’s getting worked up.
“It’s not a conversation when you are faulting me and
breaking me at the same time. If I’m wrong then it’s
definitely a mistake, I’m human, I’m open to learning and
becoming better. Why do you have to suggest a break-
up if this relationship means something to you?”
“Oh, gosh!” I’m talking to a rock here.
“First dissatisfaction and you want to sack it off?”
“Nzalo, you cannot fulfil any of your boyfriend
responsibilities? Friendship wise, I was much happier
with us.” I’m crystal clear, I’m sure he also sees how flat
this relationship has turned out over the last month.
“Go on, have the floor!”
I roll my eyes. I can’ deal with the stubbornness.
“Our geyser is broken, I will warm water in a kettle,” I
say.
“I will take a bath at home, thanks.” He’s a big baby now,
sulking.
I didn’t break up with him, I brainstormed it out loud.
He takes his car keys and phone, then leaves. Men
have egos bigger than their heads.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 49

Nobody saw Nzalo coming home in the early hours of

morning. Lwethu is getting ready to leave, her flight is
scheduled for 1:45pm. Msindisi is driving him to the
airport. He’s not himself, that’s why he wanted to ask
Nale to come with them so that Lwethu doesn’t focus on
him. Nale is a chatterbox and the three of them get
along too well.
He’s surprised when Nzalo makes his way in the
kitchen, looking like he hardly slept throughout the night.
He doesn’t greet, he grabs Coke from the fridge and sits
down with a glass. Msindisi isn’t bothered by it, he’s
making breakfast for himself and Lwethu.
“Include me,” Nzalo says.
“You’re asking or telling me?”
He frowns, “Hhayi-bo wena ntwana, what got into your
head? Do I have to beg you now like you’re Nalenhle
and her tantrums?”
Msindisi sighs and gets more eggs. Obviously this one is
going through relationship problems and taking his
frustrations out on everyone.
“I wanted to ask her if she’d be able to go with us to the
airport. Is she working today?” Msindisi says.
“I don’t know, she broke up with me,” Nzalo says.
Msindisi’s laugh slips out. “It was about time, she’s been
crying for way too long.”
“Crying for what?” Nzalo is confused.
So his brother also knows about this?
“For how you neglected her when she needed you. She
lost her mother and there was a galore of drama around
her death, and you only called her twice during that
period.”
“That’s a lie. Did she say that?” He pushes the Coke
away, he just lost appetite. He knows that Nale lies for
fun, but this is not funny. “I called her many times, we
were talking on Whatsapp, I was constantly checking up
on her. I even wanted to go and see her and she said
she wasn’t allowed out of the yard. Why is she lying?”
“I’m just telling you what she feels, don’t shout at me.”
“I’m not shouting,” he says, raising his voice just a bit
over the usual tone. He takes out his phone and calls.
Nale drops his call.
“Can I use yours?” he asks.
Msindisi gives him.
He calls, this time Nale answers.
“Yiso leso scefe,” he says.
Nale sighs, “What do you want? You walked out on me
not so long ago.”
“I want to know why are you saying I didn’t support you
when you lost your mom and only called you twice?” he
asks.
“Am I lying?” Nale asks, unapologetic.
“Okay, we will take a lie-detector test.”
“For what? I don’t have time for stupidity.”
“Your lie is affecting me emotionally, I need to clear my
name. Say whatever you want to say about me but don’t
make it look like I didn’t care because I did. I told you I
was going to meet your mother when she came this
side, I was looking forward to it.”
“That’s not what you’re angry about. You’re angry that I
called you out and told you our relationship is not what
we thought it would be,” she says.
He takes a deep breath, Msindisi is staring at him.
“I have things to do Nzalo, other than stroking your
broken ego,” she ends the call.
Msindisi takes back his phone, stifling a laugh. Nzalo
has been treating him like shit lately, so he deserves
everything coming his way.
“I still want to know what you did last night, laughing
won’t help you,” Nzalo says.
He continues laughing silently while turning his eggs. He
feels better than yesterday. Yesterday he couldn’t hear
himself think, everything just seemed to happen out of
his body.
.
.
.
ZOLA

Nale has been ranting all the way from work. Apparently
they broke up, which I think is a bit dramatic. She loves
him, breaking up with someone you still love so much
can only break your own heart. But I let her be, if I tell
her my own opinion I know she will think I’m taking a
side.
Yesterday I was supposed to have dinner with Xolani
and meet his daughter but that didn’t happen. I know he
misses me, that’s why I want to surprise him at his
office, he’s working until late. We haven’t spent much
time together either, ever since this MaMkhwanazi
drama unfolded. Nale and I advocated for justice, that’s
why I excuse himself if he’s too busy to spend time with
me. This is something I persuaded him to do. I know if I
had told him no, he wouldn’t have done it.

The angry Nale is the best Nale. All I have to do when

we get home is change my clothes and sit with my feet
off the floor. She’s cleaning, cooking and shouting at
every little thing. But she’s never wiped the wall before,
this is new.
My phone rings, it’s the culprit.
I answer, I don’t have any problem with him.
“Can we talk Zola?” He sounds stressed too.
“Yeah, we can,” I say, summoning my inner relationship
therapist spirit up.
I’m about to hear his side of the story.
“Your cousin broke my heart,” he says.
I look at Nale outside the window with a wet cloth, her
lips are moving as she mumbles to herself.
“What happened?” I ask.
“She called me a bad boyfriend and then said we must
break up, I’m better as a friend. And I thought that was
just because I have been occupied. But she actually
says I didn’t support her when her mother passed, that’s
what breaks my heart, and she said it to my brother. I
have lost a mother, that pain feels fresh at the moment,
like I lost her recently. I care about Nale, I try my best to
show that to her.”
“I feel like this is just a miscommunication,” I say.
“From her side because I have never said one thing but
meant the other. Not so long ago I was sick, I couldn’t
eat anything, I was nauseous. But I committed myself
into spending the night with her, I embarrassed myself
running to the bathroom and throwing up like a weakling.
I communicated with her, she told me she was okay and
told me to do what I have to do to resolve my situation.”
He’s furious.
Now I’m comfused; I don’t know who’s wrong and who’s
right.
“But it’s fine, if she feels like there’s someone out there
who is better than me, she can go. I just wanted to let
you know that I have always cared about her, I love her
and all my intentions were good.” Is he about to cry right
now?
“Okay, I appreciate that.” I think he just doesn’t want bad
blood because I’m in his uncle’s life.
Nale walks back in. I don’t know if I should brief her
about the call or let it be.
“Do you have airtime? I want to call my uncle,” she asks.
I’m surprised, there have been a sibling rivalry ever
since aunt died.
I give her my phone, she walks away with it.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I want to sort my life out and that means making things

right with my family first. I want to settle things out with
my uncle. I miss being his favorite niece, not that he has
any other.
He answers thinking I’m Zola.
“It’s Nalenhle,” I say.
“Oh, how are you?”
“I’m good. Are you free to talk?”
“Yeah, I can talk,” he says.
“I just want to apologize for my behavior during the
funeral. I know I could’ve stood up for you and aunt, but
I was focused on my own pain. I don’t want this tension
between us, it makes things difficult for everyone at
home.”
“I appreciate this Nale, I really do. I never meant to hurt
you in any way, I thought I was protecting you and I
thought wrong,” he says.
“It was unnecessary, I’m a big girl, I don’t need you to
conceal the truth from me.” I know my mother would’ve
been sick from this, so I don’t want to hold back her
spirit from progressing to the after life.
“I get it, I apologize,” he says.
It’s great to hear a man who is not afraid to accept his
wrongs and apologize. My uncle needs to open a school
for the Hadebes. I may have exaggerated here and
there, but Nzalo also knows that he’s been holding back.
Now he wants us to go for a lie-detector test, he has
money to waste.
“How are things at home?” I ask, I know his marriage
has been through some turmoils.
“We are working on things slowly,” he says.
“Do you want my advice?” My own relationships just bite
dust and here I am, offering an advice to a man who’s
been married for over two decades.
“I appreciate that you want to give me advice, but no,”
he refuses.
I would’ve told him to pulls up his romance socks and
start getting his wife things like flowers, chocolates and
random cash.
“When are you going to visit home?” he asks.
“Every second weekend, I no longer have a boyfriend,
he broke up with me.”
I hear a stifled chuckle. “I’m sorry, why did he break up
with you?”
“Because he didn’t like hearing the truth. But I’m fine, I
don’t care. I was Nalenhle before him, I won’t be
Nalembi just because he’s gone. No, I’m still the
Nalenhle I was before him.” I’m not venting, it doesn’t
even bother me that much.
“It’s his loss, you were too beautiful for him to handle.”
See why I love this man so much.
He always knows what I want to hear. Nzalo can’t
handle a beautiful girl like me who knows what she
wants and won’t accept less than what she deserves.
.
.
.

On his way back home, Msindisi is pulled to the side by

two police officers in work uniform. He’s a law abiding
citizen, whatever the officers wants he’s ready to give it.
But after confirming his identity one puts him in hand
cuffs and shoves him in a patrol car. The other one
takes his car keys. He starts cursing out of frustration.
“So you’re not even going to say what I did?” He’s
confused.
“You have the right to remain silent, young man.”
What the fuck is happening? He just dropped his sister
at the airport. He has no illegal firearm or drugs, he
didn’t run over anyone or pass the speed limit.
They are not taking him to the police station. They put
him in some foreigner shop backroom. This shit is
illegal. If he did something wrong why can’t they say the
charges and take his statement the right way.
“The reason you’re here and not in a cell is because I
know your brother. So mfana don’t waste my time.
Where is Phindile Mkhwanazi?”
He shuts his eyes and releases a deep sigh. Is this how
low Nzalo can go? Now it makes sense, he sent these
two. His own brother.
“I left her at the mall,” he says.
“You never went to the mall yesterday. It’s either you
speak here or I take you to the station and you will have
criminal charges,” says the tallest officer.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he leans back,
folding his arms.
“So you want to go to prison? Do you know what they do
to pretty boys there?”
“What?” he raises his eyebrow.
“A lot of things you wouldn’t want on your pretty face and
maybe your back.”
“Is it a lot of ghetto people there?” He’s weighing his
options, trying to check if he’d survive.
“It’s jail,” the officer says, holding back his laugh. “It’s a
home of law breakers, rapists and murderers.”
“I want to speak to my brother,” he says, his phone is in
the car. The officer gives him his own, he knows Nzalo’s
number by head.
They give him space.
Nzalo picks up, “Hello.”
“You sent police to me?” He’s in disbelief, Nzalo has
been kidnapping people, including a teenage girl, and
now he wants to act righteous.
“Your actions called the police on you. And if you don’t
speak ntwana, I’m afraid you will be going to jail,” Nzalo
says.
“You’ve done worse, what the fuck?!”
“I haven’t killed anyone,” Nzalo says.
“Because nobody did anything to you. You moved out,
left us with a woman we hardly knew. Your underwear
don’t have knots of muthi, you haven’t been through
what I’ve been through with girls. Your manhood is
perfect, you have had perfect lasting relationships.”
Nzalo is silent for a minute. “Can we talk when you get
home?”
“No, I’m going to jail,” his voice trembles.
“You’re not going to jail, give Mhlengikhaya the phone,"
Nzalo says.
“I don’t know who that is,” he says before it clicks that
Nzalo is referring to the one that lent him the phone. He
signals for him to come.
Nzalo talks to him for a few minutes. Then he tells
Msindisi to get up, the other one returns back his car
keys. This was all Nzalo’s plan, he contacted his friends
to come and scare him. That's how low he’d go, even if
it means traumatizing his young brother to get what he
wants.
His hands are shaking, driving will be a hustle.
Everything that happened yesterday comes flashing
back. Everything he’s been through, all his relationships
that ended in embarrassment, it was all her doing. The
woman he blindy replaced his own mother with, calling
her ncane.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 50
ZOLA

I’m driving from work to the casino. He told me he’s

there with Onathi until late. Against her will, Nale had to
take a taxi home. Xolani always spoils me, I’m one of
those who’ve always been against spending money on
men, but he deserves everything good under the sun.
So yeah, I grab a perfume and put it in a gift bag. Then I
fold notes to surprise him with money for petrol. He
needs something that’s going to make him smile, it’s
been some heavy weeks for him.

The casino is packed, getting a parking spot is a bit of a

hustle. I get easily frustrated but I endure until I find a
space. I haven’t met Onathi yet, our dinner that was
planned got cancelled on last minute. I’m looking
forward to seeing her and how her relationship is with
her father. I know having a daughter was one of his
dreams.
I know my way around, a few staff members know me. I
get little waves and smiles as I walk past.
The door is slightly open, I can hear him talking to
someone in his deep, low voice. I don’t want to disturb,
just in case he’s having a serious meeting, so I knock.
There’s no response at first, I knock again.
The door widely opens and the person I see is someone
I wouldn’t have expected to find here. I push her to the
side, making my way in. Xolani gets off his chair and
stands up.

There are two cups of coffee on his desk and female

shoes on the floor.
“Nokuzola, why didn’t you tell me you’re coming?”
“So that you can get rid of her before I arrive?”
Sis grabs her shoes on the floor and puts them on.
They’ve been drinking coffee with their shoes off. God
knows what else was off!
He looks at her, “Please give us some privacy.”
“Call me,” she says, gathering her things and smiling her
way to the door.
I take a deep breath. Robyn can’t ruffle my feathers like
this. She can’t have so much control over me.
“I was briefing her about the outcome of the case,” he
says.
Surely I look like a fool if he thinks I’m going to believe
that.
“You didn’t mention it to me. So you briefing her made
her take off her shoes?” Robyn pisses me off, he knows
it. He said they’re done, he’s not going to be around her
anymore.
“She was feeling hot,” he says.
“But drinking coffee at the same time?”
He sighs deeply, “I apologize, I should have told you that
she’s here.”
He’s not apologetic, he just wants me to shut up. All this
time I’ve been thinking she’s no longer a problem
because her job is done, little did I know about little
coffee meetings.
“You know how I feel about you and her. You just don’t
care, you want me to be insecure and always be this
person who looks angry and stupid.” Tears are burning
my eyes. What’s so hard about cutting ties with her?
His mouth can’t open now but when he was with Robyn
he was talking.
I throw the stupid gift bag on his desk, the perfume falls
but it doesn’t break. I’m not going to sit here and drink
Robyn’s coffee remains; I’m leaving.
.
.
.

I have been holding back my tears so that I can get

home safely. Once I’m safely parked I release them and
let them flood my cheek. He doesn’t want to let go of
her, obviously there’s something that he gets from that
he doesn’t get anywhere else. What is the use of him
sending his people to my dad month end if he can’t let
go of one person I dislike the most? I can’t be with
someone who challenges my trust and want my
insecurities to always be on steroids.

I walk in to Nale cuddled up on the couch, she’s been

the saddest person alive ever since her relatives ended.
When she sees me walking in with a puffy face she sits
up.
“What happened? Were you in a car accident?”
“No, I found Xolani with Robyn,” I say.
“You caught them red-handed?” She’s putting her
sleepers on and getting off the couch.
“We are not going anywhere,” I say.
“No, he can’t get away with it. We need to raid that
casino. There’s a bar there, right? We will loot, so that
he will loose both you and his stock.” This is what she
wants; alcohol for herself.
I’m not a crazy woman, I’m not destroying anything that
makes him money. I don’t remember us going to loot
Nzalo’s trucks and packaging warehouse.
“We are not doing that,” I say.
She sighs and sits down. “Were they at least using
condom?”
“No, they were drinking coffee together with the door
slightly open. She had her shoes off, imagine!”
She frowns, “That’s it?”
“What do you mean that’s it? He knows how I feel about
that woman, he promised me that he won’t bring her
around anymore,” I say.
“You’re a fuckin’ weakling, my niece. Where did you get
it from? Because not from us, the Thabethes. You’re the
boss, you should’ve walked in like one and ordered her
off the chair, then kissed your future husband in front of
her and drank her coffee while she’s watching you.”
All these bright advices, why can’t she apply them in her
own life?
“I can’t believe you’re here crying because of a bitch. I’m
so mad at you.” She gets up and puts her shoes on
again. “We are going back there.”
“Nale, I’m not playing games.” I don’t have the energy
for nonsense.
“I’m your aunt and I’m telling you we are going back
there.” She runs to her room.
I don’t know where I pressed but her madness button is
pushed up right now.
She comes back and drags me to the car. I don’t know if
she realizes that she’s only my aunt biologically
speaking, not factually. She’s a cousin and she’s
younger than me.
But I let her be, she’s using this situation to release
stress from her own failed relationship.
.
.
.

I’m back at the casino, now with a mad cousin/aunt by

my side. She gives me a generous amount of lotion to
put on my puffy face before we get out of the car. I never
heard of her modeling agency but yeah, she’s teaching
me how to walk like Miss Universe.
“I will wait for you in that burger shop, remember to act
like his boss,” she pats my shoulders as we part ways.
I’m heading back to Xolani’s office, assigned a new role
to play.

He’s looking at a pile of documents. I make my way in

without knocking, he raises his face up and frowns. I pull
the chair that Robyn was sitting her old ass on, I recline
it and sit, then lift my feet to the desk. I don’t speak, I
stare at him.
“Ummmm, hello.” He looks confused.
I left here on the verge of tears, now I’m back looking
like a mean grocery store manager.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asks.
Nale didn’t teach me what I should say.
I keep quiet and continue staring at him.
“I’m glad you came back. Would you like to take your
shoes off, maybe?” It’s his pet peeve, even putting feet
on the couch, he doesn’t like feet anywhere.
“No,” I refuse to take them down.
He nods. “Can we talk about what happened earlier?”
“I thought we talked.” I get up and go to the mini bar
fridge.
I take a can of Castle Lager. I have never drank this
before. I open it, he’s staring at me. I think this is the one
that burns people’s lips, WTF?
“That’s beer. I can order something light for you,” he
says.
I force down the second sip because who is he to tell me
what I need to drink?
His phone rings. I’m sure it’s Robyn.
He glances at me before answering.
“Yes…what’s her name…no, it’s fine I will settle the bill,”
the call drops, he puts the phone away.
“I didn’t know you came with Nale,” he says.
“What bill are you settling?” I ask.
“They were asking if I really said she must eat, I will pay
for her,” he says.
I take a gulp this time. Nale had her own agenda coming
here. I’m very disappointed in her.
“I was going to come and see you after wrapping things
up here,” he says.
“For what?” I ask.
“To apologize. I understand why you’re mad. I didn’t
mean to disrespect you in any way, she’s someone I’ve
worked with on many projects, I couldn’t have chased
her out like we are enemies. But I could’ve handled it
differently, it just didn’t occur in my mind on time. You
look at her like someone that had something with me in
the past and I purely look at her as someone I just
happened to work with because it was never that deep.”
“Right? So I’m being a dramatic, insecure bitch?” I ask.
“I will never call you a bitch or undermine how you feel. I
don’t know how but clearly there’s a trust issue in our
relationship, I’m willing to build that for you because at
some point you will have to trust me enough to be
comfortable with me having a chat with a female.”
“Don’t reduce it to a “chat with a female”. It’s Robyn,
your ex that calls you any time of the day and takes trips
with you.” I’m not going to be gaslighted by him as if we
didn’t have a conversation before and he promised me
something different.
“Do you doubt that I love you?” he asks.
Sigh!
“No, I don’t,” I say.
“Then what do you want, Nokuzola?”
“Honesty, Xolani!” It’s not that hard to understand. “You
move funnily, you say one thing and do the other. That’s
not what honesty looks like. If there was someone I’m in
contact with from my past that you weren’t comfortable
with I would’ve cut ties with that person. But not you, you
enjoy feeling like there are two women fighting for you.
Every now and again you have to push that button,
because other than the Robyn situation what else
makes me sweat? Nothing. I’m not a crazy bitch who
wears skimpy clothes and shows her body to the world.
I’m nothing like Robyn or MaMkhwanazi, I don’t do crazy
things. Are you bored?”
“No. Please stop putting things like that in your mind,” he
says.
“But the reason you found me interesting in the first
place is because I was shouting at you, looking like a
crazy woman. That’s what attracted you to me. Right or
wrong?”
“Nokuzola!” He gets off his chair and comes around the
desk.
“Am I right or wrong Xolani?” I push him away.
He grabs me again and holds me tighter.
“I don’t want to see you angry.”
“Yes, you do.” I don’t want him to hold me but he has
power over me.
My back is against the wall, this turns him on, doesn’t?
“Yobe MaThabethe,” he says.
“Why?” I ask.
“I made a mistake, it won’t happen again. There’s no
business between us, I will delete her contacts, I just
don’t want it to look like her and I are fighting, she knows
a lot about me.”
“You make me angry Xolani and I hate it.” Nale would be
disappointed seeing tears in my eyes, this is now how
Miss Universe acts like.
“I’m sorry makoti.” He lifts my chin up and kisses my
lips.
I kiss him back, his hand drops down to my waist.
“Let’s lock the door,” he says, smiling.
“No, it’s packed back there, I don’t want to take risks.”
“Okay, should I expect you tonight? I miss you, ever
since Onathi came home you haven’t been around.”
“Do you want me to come?” I ask.
“I’d do anything for you to come,” he says.
“Okay, I will come,” I say.
He kisses my lips again and then releases me.
“I don’t know if you forgot your money in the gift bag,” he
says, taking it out of his wallet.
“No, it wasn’t a mistake, it’s for petrol,” I say.
His brows furrow. “What petrol?”
“I’m blessing you. Do you like the perfume I got you?”
“Come here,” he opens his arms.
I’m a proud blesser, he’s happy.
“Thank you,” he says.
He didn’t deserve it, at least not today. But I have a pure
heart.
“You’re welcome,” I say.
He nods and looks away.
Wait a minute!
“Xolani?”
He squeezes the corners of his eyes with his fingers
before looking at me again.
“It’s just R1000 and cheap perfume.” I can’t believe he’s
emotional whereas he’s given me way more than this.
The money he gives me every month exceeds my
salary.
“I appreciate you, more than you know,” he says.
I hug him. Oh, my little baby.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 51
Without Lwethu the house is emptier. Regardless of how
he feels about her, MaMkhwanazi’s absence is
massively felt. This doesn’t feel like a home anymore.
Maybe it never was a home, just a house their father
bought to erase their mother’s memory. For now it’s not
clear what happened to MaMkhwanazi but he has no
hope of her being alive. The possibility of it being
Msindisi’s hands drive him crazy.
He’s walking around the balcony, cooling down his head.
Msindisi pulls up, finally arriving home. Msindisi is a
middle child who was raised as a last born.
MaMkhwanazi always had the softest spot for him, they
got along very well. He’s a softie, what Nzalo did today
will make him mad the whole week. Mhlengikhaya didn’t
touch him, Nzalo asked him not to, he only wanted him
to be scared off a little bit. But he won’t care, he will
speak about his mental health.
“Hey,” Nzalo says, trying to read his face.
He doesn’t answer, they both walk in. Nzalo grabs a litre
of cold drink and two glasses, then follows him. He
wanted them to talk in person, whatever he did to
MaMkhwanazi they will work it out as brothers.
“I apologize about…”
“Trying to get me arrested? No, you don’t. You got your
way, now you’re happy.”
Nzalo sighs and pours cold drink for both of them.
“I’m not happy, it’s been a stressful week for me. I’m
mostly worried about you. How are you feeling?” he
says.
“I’m not fine,” Msindisi.
“What is bothering you? Is it something that happened
when you went to see her?”
“No,” he says, taking a deep sigh.
He can’t drink this, he can’t stomach anything.
“Did it happen in the past?” Nzalo asks.
No response. He’s staring into space, biting his lip.
As impatient as he is, Nzalo waits. He doesn’t repeat
question, he will wait until he’s ready to talk.
“Let me get you something stronger,” he says.
Msindisi shakes his head, “No, I’m fine.”
Nzalo sits back down.
“Ncane did something to me.”
Nzalo gathers his brows, “What did she do?”
“Remember how she used to take care of everything in
my bathroom. Even my dirty underwear, she’d wash
them. I thought it was love, but that was weird. This one
time when I brought Zama here, she told me to pack the
clothes I had worn and the bedsheets, offering to wash
them. I never had a normal relationship after that.”
“I don’t remember Zama. But what makes you think
something weird happened? Wasn’t she returning all
your stuff clean?” Nzalo asks.
“I just think she did something. It makes sense after I
found my underwear with knots of muthi. It makes sense
why my relationships never work,” he says.
“You’re a mama’s boy, that’s why,” -Nzalo.
“That’s not it,” he says, casting his eyes on the floor.
Nzalo’s eyes follow his face, confusion dwelling in his
eyes. “That’s not it?”
“I don’t have a sex life,” he says.
Now Nzalo is more confused. At 25 he doesn’t have a
sex life?
“You’re a none-bisexual?”
“I don’t think a term like that exists, maybe asexual. But
I’m not that, I’m attracted to girls, I just can’t make them
happy, sexually.”
Oh, damn! He’s very slow.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is it, ummm, does the jet land too
early?” This is uncomfortable, there’s a very wide age
gap between them, they never shared such private stuff.
“It doesn’t take off,” Msindisi says.
His eyes widen in shock. “What do you mean? Hadebe
is not active?”
“He is but not when I need him to. I only had one good
relationship and that was with Zama, I was barely 18,
that was when I submitted my dirty bedsheets to ncane.
Others have been a real struggle,” Msindisi reveals.
“Wait ntwana, what exactly is the problem?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs.
This is not what Nzalo expected. Not sexual problems.
This is too heavy, he doesn’t even know where he’d start
if he was to advise.
.
.
.
ZOLA

I’m meeting Onathi for the first time, we missed each

other at the casino earlier when I went to see her father.
But a teenage girl to me is a baby. I’m not stressed, as
long as her mother is not around. I don’t want to deal
with any babymama drama, Robyn’s on and off drama is
enough.
Xolani opens the door for me and pulls me to his chest,
embracing me tightly. It’s cold, we quickly get in. I see
he’s already set for dinner.
Oh, here she is.
She looks grown than I thought. She looks like a 20 year
old, I didn’t think she’d be in make-up and Brazilian
weave.
“Hello, I’m Nokuzola,” I say.
“Hi,” she says without lifting her face.
“I’m happy to meet you,” I’m being nice.
I believe I’m going to be a cool stepmom.
When she lifts her face, she’s looking at her dad. “Xolani
can I have my phone?”
“But we talked about phone at a dinner table,” he says.
I need to try this with my dad, just call him Skhundla or
Vincent when talking to him.
“She has her phone,” she points at me.
I just arrived, nkosi yami!
“I’m not his child,” I say jokingly.
“Who said you are?” She’s a real diva.
I thought I’d like her, but it looks like I was wrong.
“Can we all just calm down?”
I though he’d address his daughter’s attitude.
He looks at her, “This is my partner, I told you I’m in the
process of getting married.”
“Yeah, but you said she’s relatable,” she says.
He’s dumbstruck. Why didn’t I prepare for something like
this? He’s not an alpha-dad, she probably gets her way
with everything here.
“I’m relatable, we just haven’t sat down and gotten to
know each other,” I insert myself since I’m the subject of
discussion anyway.
“I don’t think you look anything like my mom,” she says.
I laugh, I just crack up. Do I know her mom to look like
her?
It looks like I’m going to have a rough start with this diva.
“You will get to know each other, we are family and we
are in each other’s lives forever. All three of us.” He
looks at me, “Thank you for understanding me the way
you do. I know you will adapt to this as it’s new to you as
much as it’s new to Onathi.”
“I will, thank you.” Phewww, can we eat now?
Onathi is mad about the phone. You can tell this is
MaMkhwanazi’s seed, hopefully the mean spirit will go
away as she continues living under this roof.
Dinner is rather cold, she leaves the table as soon as we
are all done eating. She cuddles herself up on the couch
like a heartbroken Nale and watches TV.
“Did she cancel the semester?” I ask Xolani.
“It was a better option, she’s not in a good mental space.
The sudden change of environment and the manner in
which she found out the truth about her identity. It
wouldn’t have worked at all. She’s getting therapy,
hopefully she will forget about Winnie and her thug
soon.” He talks about her as if he’s talking about a small
baby.
“She’s feisty, I hope therapy helps,” I say.
I know if her attitude doesn’t change there’s only so
much that I can take.
“It will,” he says.
We clear the dining room and leave her watching TV,
going to our room. I have missed him so much, I’m sure
I have a spider web now between my legs. I love taking
a shower with him. His hands wash me better. We return
to the bedroom butt-naked, he throws all the extra
pillows to the floor and pulls me to lie on my back.
He kisses me from my neck down to my navel.
“We can use a condom now, you have the girl you
wanted,” I say.
He stops, “What?”
“I said we can use condom.”
“I heard that. But you said something else.”
“I said you already have a daughter. Wasn’t that your
dream?”
“It still is,” he says with a deep sigh.
He rolls to the side and lies on his back.
Did I just turn him off?
“Nothing is ever going to come between you and I, and
what we have planned together. I thought being a father
was fun. I thought it was all about having someone who
looks up to you, need you for protection and calls you
dad.”
“Is it hard?” I ask.
“It’s hard because at the moment it feels like I’m
fathering someone’s child. Don’t get me wrong, I will
protect that girl, I don’t care what she gives me back. I’m
going to make sure she doesn’t go back to Winnie again
and MaMkhwanazi never get to mess with her life again.
But I don’t know if we have a connection that we should
have.”
“It’s going to take time, you missed many years of her
life, you’re not just going to click. You are a good man
and in my eyes you’re already killing it,” I say.
He chuckles, “Obviously, you love your man, you will say
anything to lift his spirit.”
I’m actually not kidding, after seeing how much of a diva
she is, I’m truly proud of him.
His phone rings. His brows are gathered as he answers.
It sounds like Nzalo is having an urgent situation. I was
about to get knacked, this is embarrassing.
“Yeses!” he sits up.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Nzalo says there’s a problem, they need my help.”
Phewww! This is what I signed up for, isn’t?
I wanted him to have a healthy relationship with his
brother’s children. Finally they call him when they need
help. I advocated for this, so I better close my legs and
watch him go.
“When I come back I better find you still naked,” he
says.
I doubt I will be. “Call me when you get there.”
I hop it’s nothing that involves kidnapping people.
.
.
.
Xolani just arrived, he thought he’d walk in to a bloody
situation. But he finds Nzalo having a cup of coffee and
Msindisi sitting like his world just crashed.
“Is everything okay?” This is the first time he’s ever been
needed by his nephews. First time they’ve ever
considered him someone in the family; an uncle they
can call in a time of need.
Nzalo signally checks with Msindisi first, then he clears
his throat. “Babomncane, Msindisi’s jet doesn’t take off.”
Okay, when did Msindisi buy a jet?
“Have you two been smoking socks?” he asks.
Do these boys know what kind of ripe, fat fruit he left at
home to come here?
“When he’s with a girl, his jet doesn’t take off,” Nzalo
clarifies.
“Okay, so what am I here for?” He’s confused.
"Babomncane, I’m talking about the jet between his
legs." Now thet make sense.
But what should he do? Start romancing Msindisi?
Shouldn’t this be taken to his girlfriend, whoever she is?
"Teach your girlfriend how to operate your jet, I can't do
it for her," he says.
Nzalo sighs. His uncle doesn't understand.
“It all began after MaMkhwanazi took his dirty underwear
and bedsheets, before that his jet took off and landed
with no hustle."
“What?” Xolani.
He needs to sit down for this.
Msindisi’s relationship with MaMkhwanazi was always
too close for his comfort.
“I’m bewitched, she didn’t want me to have a girlfriend,”
Msindisi says hopelessly.
“I don’t understand why she did that,” Nzalo.
Now they’re talking alone while he doesn’t even have
enough clarity.
“Msindisi what happens if you’re with a girl?” he asks.
Msindisi’s jaws clench, he’s angry and embarrassed at
the same time.
“Nothing,” he says.
“You don’t feel anything or you don’t get an erection?”
“Number two,” he says.
“So how do you…” How can he say this?
He looks at Nzalo.
Nzalo clears his throat, “I think babomncane wants to
know how you get inside a girl?”
“I push with my fingers,” he says.
“How? So basically you can’t have umdlalo
wasekamereni?”
“Yeah,” he nods.
“With every single girl?”
“Yeah,” he says.
“And if you’re alone and having warm feelings. Do you
get an erection?”
“Yeah,” he says.
Xolani nods, at least Hadebe is working, they just have
to untie those knots and get him cleaned.
“You will be fine. If you talked earlier you wouldn’t have
suffered for so long.”
Nzalo sighs with relief. He still has questions about the
finger pushing technique though. But there’s a bigger
and more important question.
“What did you do to MaMkhwanazi?”
Silence…
They’re staring at him.
“I didn’t know I was killing her, I wasn’t myself.” He’s
himself now but there’s no remorse in his eyes.
“How did you kill her?” Xolani asks.
Nzalo is sweating a storm across them.
“I strangled her, Ma said I must do it.”
“Which Ma?"
"My mother."
Thobile died years ago.
Something is not right with Msindisi’s head...and his jet.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 52

It’s late, Zola is probably already asleep. Nzalo walks

him out after Msindisi retired to bed. They expect him to
play a role he’s always fought for. He has to come up
with a solution, he’s the only elder around.
“I don’t think he knows what he did,” he says.
Nzalo sighs, “Yeah, I think he’s still processing it.”
“No, I mean I don’t believe that he killed her,” he says.
“Then how did he end up in the Van Rova side and
didn’t move for hours, and came back with soiled pants
and one of her shoes?”
“I don’t know, all I’m saying is that Phindile is not dead.
Maybe he thinks he killed her but I doubt Msindisi can
tell when a person is dead. I think they fought and he left
thinking she’s dead.”
“Then where is she? We found nothing in that place,”
Nzalo asks, this freaks him out a bit.
“That’s where my concern is. I feel like we need to
tighten up our security, both Musa and her are out
there,” Xolani says. “Where is Winnie?”
“She’s in Durban, don’t worry about her,” Nzalo says.
“Well, we need her, we have to get the police involved.”
“I have also committed crimes, we didn’t investigate this
kindly, remember?”
“I know, but nobody died or got injured, we were just
trying to get the truth. The bigger case here is your
mother’s death and Phindile’s family involvement,”
Xolani says.
Nzalo sighs. Just when he thought they have a
breakthrough.
“Nokuzola is moving in with me until this is resolved,”
Xolani says.
He’s exaggerating this a bit. Does it have to go that far?
“You think if she’s alive she’d go for Zola?” Nzalo asks.
“We are dealing with a pyscho, Nokuzola is something
anyone who wants to hurt me would go for, I’m not
taking risks,” he says.
“Lwethu is in Joburg with friends, from there she’s going
back to Mpumalanga.” Nzalo is now worried about his
sister’s safety. He can tighten security for himself and
Msindisi, then extends help to Nale. But Lwethu is far
away from home and MaMkhwanazi knows very well
where she is.
“Tomorrow morning we are going to the police station
with everything that we have. If this gets to the media
she will be more worried about herself than revenge,”
Xolani says.
“Okay, let me go and talk to Msindisi before he sleeps,”
Nzalo.
Xolani turns and makes his way to his car.
Nzalo stops, “Babomncane?”
Xolani turns around.
“Thank you for coming,” he says.
“We are family, Nzalo.” There’s been a lot of progress
with Nzalo; their relationship has improved a lot.
Hopefully things will never go back to where they were.
He wants Onathi to have a relationship with them.
.
.
.

Zola is fast asleep when he gets home. He’d like to

continue where they left off but she looks too innocent
when she’s sleeping, he doesn’t want to disturb her. He
quietly goes to the bathroom after undressing. His
phone rings as he rinses his hands. It’s by the grace of
God that this call is coming when Zola is asleep.
He answers, “What time is this Robyn?”
“Why? Are you with madam?” Robyn asks, slightly
mocking his frustration.
“What is it?” he asks impatiently.
“I was thinking, how come you and I never went to
Zanzibar?” She’s bored, so bad that she has to take it
out on him.
“It’s late for this,” he says.
“But we are awake, do you want me to send you
pictures? It’s a beautiful place, we can go there and get
some work done peacefully. You can even bring madam
along, tell her I’m harmless,” she laughs.
“No, thank you. I’m dealing with important family
matters, I’m not thinking about having a vacation. But
you can go and enjoy yourself. And if possible Robyn,
please stop calling me in the weirdest hours of the night.
I like you, you know that, but I still expect you not to
cross boundaries.”
“Just because she’s insecure? There’s nothing between
us, I respect your relationship. What happened in
Hluhluwe will never happen again.”
He takes a deep breath, “I appreciate that. Next time call
your friends to discuss vacations, not me.”
“Mmmm, okay,” she says.
“Good night,” he drops the call.
This is going to be a problem. He knows Robyn, they
both have no intentions for each other but she likes a
challenge. And right now she knows that she’s Zola’s
worst nightmare. Robyn knows his office number, she
has contacts of everyone who works closely with him.
There will be no need for her to directly contact him
about work. He’s doing this to protect his relationship,
they’ve fought too many times about Robyn. It’s time he
blocks Robyn. There are no hard feelings, life just
progressed, now there’s no room for games.
He walks back to the bedroom, Zola’s eyes are open.
His heart starts beating fast.
“Makoti,” he kisses her cheek, trying to read her face.
“When did you come back?” she asks.
“Just a few minutes ago,” he says.
“Mmmmm,” she’s looking at him strangely.
“I had a phone call from Nzalo, I didn’t want to wake you
up.”
“Oh, what’s happening with him?” she asks.
“It’s Msindisi but it’s nothing we can’t handle as a family.
I was going to discuss this with you in the morning but
since you’re awake we must as well talk about you
moving in with me.”
Her brows furrow, the timing confuses her. “Why?”
“I think Phindile is…”
“MaMkhwanazi, continue,” she says. It irritates her when
he’s addressing MaMkhwanazi like they’re close friends
from high school.
“Yeah MaMkhwanazi, I think she’s alive. But Msindisi
thinks otherwise, she’s convincing that he killed her, but
Nzalo and I went there and found nothing. That woman
is too clever, I’m sure she pretended like she’s dead for
him to leave,” he says.
“You think she’s going to come after you?” This scares
her. MaMkhwanazi is dangerous, she got away with
Thobile’s murder and got her cousin out of prison.
“Definitely. But we are going to inform the police and
have media broadcasting the news everywhere,” he
says.
“Jesus Christ!”
He gets under the covers and wraps his arm around her.
“I know it might be too much but you have to be
escorted to and from work.”
“No Xolani, you’re being dramatic now.” She doesn’t
want to be a center of attention.
“It’s better to be safe than sorry,” he says.
“What about Nale?”
“Nzalo will take care of her.”
“They broke up, she won’t allow him to play savior.”
“If she values her life she will listen to him.”
She sighs heavily. They invited this drama into their
lives.
.
.
.

It’s midnight, they’re packing everything that belongs to

them and their father. Leaving only what MaMkhwanazi
owns. They can’t leave their father’s memoirs behind.
After a long conversation Msindisi finally agreed to
return back to their mother’s house. Two drivers were
woken up from their sleep. They’re moving out. Now that
they’re deeply thinking about it, they should have never
moved in, they betrayed their late mother.

It takes two trips for everything to be transported back to

their mother’s house. They pile everything in the garage
and walk in to what they haven’t called a home in almost
a decade.
It’s easy for Nzalo, Nale brought him back here, he
readjusted. Msindisi has never spent a night here. He
sits on the couch looking lost.
Nzalo makes his way to the kitchen, he’s trying to avoid
coffee because it’s late, he makes a cup of tea instead.
Having a church-going stepmother introduced him to hot
beverages. Only if he knew the things she put in his
coffee! That jug still looks fresh in his mind.

He walks back with a cup of tea, Msindisi is staring into

a wall looking lost.
“Babomncane is protecting Zola, he thinks they might
come for her to get through him. I’m scared for my
situation,” he says.
Msindisi takes a deep breath and asks, “You didn’t sort it
out?”
“No, we still have to take a lie detector test. But I will talk
to her before going to the police station, whether we are
together or not, I’m responsible for her safety until this
situation is resolved.”
“But she wasn’t breathing or moving, I dragged her
inside the bush and left her covered with a pile of
leaves. Unless she’s Jesus Christ, I don’t see how she
would have been able to wake up again.” He remembers
everything clearly. MaMkhwanazi was dead. They had
an argument in the car, he wanted her to confess. As
their voices rose up, his mind started hearing extra
voice- his mother’s voice. He could hear her telling him
not to let her go, that’s when he stopped the car and
dragged her out. They fought, she tried shielding herself
but he was possessed. His hands grabbed her neck and
didn’t let go until her body stopped moving and a form
came out of her mouth.
“She’s very cunning, until her body is found she’s not
dead and we have to watch our backs,” Nzalo says.
“I hate myself,” Msindisi says.
Nzalo looks at her, “You hate yourself or her?”
“I hate myself for being so stupid. I ignored all the red
flags. My own mother never kissed me like her, every
night I wake up feeling like her tongue is in my mouth. I
feel dirty, I failed myself, I didn’t stand up for me.”
“Is that all?” Nzalo asks.
“That’s what disgusts me the most,” he’s not answering
the question.
Nzalo looks at him but doesn’t push with a lot of
questions.
“She will be the last person to ever make you feel this
way,” he vows.
If she didn’t die, she will wish she would have died when
they finally meet again.
"I hope we can have a healthy relationship with Onathi
because in all this she's innocent. I feel like we only
make up to Babomncane through her. We were
manipulated into thinking he hated this family."
"But he did hate our father," Msindisi.
"Wouldn't you hate me if I took all our inheritance to
myself and then married your ex-girlfriend?"
Msindisi shrugs, "I guess I would."
"Exactly, so we have to be at least nice to his daughter,"
Nzalo says.
"I will wait until you go to her dad's house. That's Lwethu
multiplied by two plus Nale." They break into laughter,
for the first time this week.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 53
NALENHLE

I woke up alone, Zola went to her man’s place. Being

single is boring but good for self-introspection. I love
myself more than anything under the sun, I will never
accept mediocre in the name of having someone to call
a boyfriend.
I’m having a cold cider to start my morning, I will get into
cleaning as the sun goes up. I hear a car outside, that
must be Zola. I thought she will come back Monday. I
feel like she’s going to leave as soon as Mr X is officially
introduced at home. I think I’m going to be an old, rich-
at-heart aunt who lives alone and drinks alcohol. If I hit
30 without a boyfriend and a child, I will adopt two cats.
“Mzalaaaa!”
“In bed,” I yell.
My door opens, she walks in and frowns when she sees
my drink.
“I ate first,” I explain myself in advance.
“But still it’s too early for you to be drinking. Anyway I’m
here to get my things, Xolani said I have to move in with
him while they’re searching for Musa and
MaMkhwanazi.”
“Okay.” I’m hurt, I didn’t expect her to move out so soon.
I understand the situation and I hate that I invited these
people into our lives.
“Nzalo is with us,” she says.
“Who is Nzalo?” I’m confused.
“Come on, he wants to talk to you. Should I call him in?”
I should’ve bought Smirnoff, I need something stronger
for this morning.
She goes to her room to pack, Nzalo walks in.
I won’t lie and say I don’t like him anymore. But he
wouldn’t be the first man I lose while I still like.
“Hey,” he says, standing by the door.
“Morning,” I take a sip to prepare for what’s coming.
“I’m sure Zola has told you about the situation at home. I
know you and I are not on good terms but your safety is
my biggest concern. As far as MaMkhwanazi is
concerned you’re my girlfriend, she might come after
you.”
“And…?” I’m not sure why this is being brought to my
concern.
I’m a Thabethe, this doesn’t concern me in any way,
shape or form.
“Zola is moving in with babomncane, until we are sure
what’s going on I think you should move in with Msindisi
and I too,” he says.
“Say you’re joking!” As it stands this man wants to take
me to a lie detector test just because I added my truth to
his truth.
“I’m not Nale, this is going public today,” he says.
“Hhayi-ke babazi, uhambe wrong. I’m not going
anywhere, I don’t even know what you people did to
MaMkhwanazi, I wasn’t present or informed.” I don’t
even know if I’m still on their side or MaMkhwanazi’s, I’m
currently rethinking my judgment on the matter.
MaMkhwanazi never did anything bad to me anyway.
“This is serious Nale, we have to be safe,” he says.
“There is no ‘we’, you and your family have to be safe.” I
swear to God, I’m not moving in with him. MaMkhwanazi
is not what’s going to bring us together, he watches too
many movies.
He takes a deep sigh and walks out.

I put my robe on and follow him to throw away the empty

bottle. Ah, Mr X himself is here. The Hadebes, the
superheroes.
“Hi Nalenhle,” he says.
“Hello Mr X,” I respond.
“We are trying to stay safe, this is not to achieve any
personal goal. Zola would not be okay if you’re here
alone.” He’s been briefed by his brother’s son and it
looks like he’s taking a side.
“I know.” Obviously Zola would be sad if anything bad
happened to me because of them.
“So why are you refusing help?” This is turning into a
gang up, two grown men against one baby.
“My uncle said I mustn’t move in with men. Or you’re
saying I must disobey my uncle?” I ask.
Silence.
This proves my point, I leave them.
I throw away the bottle and warm water to wash the
dishes. Only one tap is working in our sink. Now that I’m
thinking about it, MaMkhwanazi is a baddie. She’s
played both Hadebe ancestors and their living children.
She broke Mr X’s heart once and he cried for long 50
years. She’s still showing them flames even today.
“Nokuzola was right about you,” says the voice behind
me.
I turn around. It’s the one and only, Mr X.
“You’re a spoilt, selfish brat,” he says.
“Oh really?” The only reason I’m still respectful is that
he’s my uncle’s age.
He could have played wire cars with my uncle before
Zola and I were born.
“Yes, definitely. Right now you know that Nokuzola won’t
go and leave you here if she comes out and finds that
you want to stay here alone,” he says.
“It’s called unity, something your family lacks.” I have put
up with him enough
“My family matters don’t make you any less of a selfish
person, you know exactly what you’re doing.” He’s
angry, I hope his heart still functions well because if he
gets a heart attack now my cousin won’t get any cent,
they’re not married yet.
He sighs heavily, “If Nzalo is the problem, will you move
in with us?”
Now he’s talking, much to his annoyance I smile. Of
course I will move in with him and Zola, I’ve heard
nothing but good things about his house.
“I will go and pack, thanks Mr X.” I cannot thank God
enough for this vacation.
Indeed life is like a wheel; one moment you’re renting a
house in a township, next minute you’re moving in a
luxurious mansion in the suburbs. My enemies haven’t
seen anything!
.
.
.
ZOLA

Xolani knows me, I like that about him. I wouldn’t have

been okay if Nale stayed behind, alone. But I didn’t
expect her to come here with us. If Onathi wasn’t here it
wouldn’t have been a problem. Onathi is still adjusting to
this environment, Xolani doesn’t know how to handle her
yet. I don’t know how she will coexist with Nale. Nale is
not the most understanding person on earth. I can put
my feelings aside to accommodate others, Nale can’t do
that and she certainly won’t do it for Onathi.

We settle in, she’s moving in to the guest bedroom.

Onathi is locked up in her room, she will come out if
she’s demanding something. Xolani went to the police
station with Nzalo, this is the perfect opportunity for me
to pull Nale aside and run some house rules by her.
I walk in to her unpacking her suitcase.
She looks at me, “My vocabulary isn’t sufficient enough
to describe this house. I can see my reflection on the
tiles.”
“Really?” I laugh and sit on the bed. She’s been here
before, she’s exaggerating.
The best part about this arrangement is that my dad
won’t find out that I moved in with Xolani, ever.
“I thought I should come and run some house rules by
you.”
“Oh child, go off!” she doesn’t even take me seriously.
“First of all, there’s a teenager in the house. She just
moved here, we are total strangers to her. Xolani is still
figuring out his role, so try and not argue with her.”
“Trust me, you guys will even forget that I’m here the
way I will mind my own business,” she says.
I don’t know about that, Nale’s presence alone is loud.
“Don’t call him names. I know he’s confident and doesn’t
mind you talking trash about him, but in his space be
respectful,” I say.
This doesn’t gel very well. “What names do I call him?”
“Come on, all the terms to refer to his age, refrain from
using them.”
“You have my word, from now on he’s small,” she says.
“Nale, I’m serious, otherwise you will go back to the
township,” I say and she laughs out loud.
She doesn’t think I can kick her out.
“Last but not least, keep your feet off the couches and
tables,” I say.
“So many rules, I hope I won’t forget. Introduce me to
the staff, please.” She’s done unpacking.
This is not a castle in a movie, there’s a helper and a
man who cleans the yard three times a week. But I give
her a house tour, in her mind she’s on vacation, she’s
not a refugee.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I’m having a blast. I brought my bikini set because I

knew there’s a pool here. It’s cloudy, I’m probably the
only person in this entire town who’s in the pool today.
But MaMkhwanazi and Musa can be caught at anytime,
they already made it to midday news. My time in this
place is not guaranteed, I could be free to go back
tomorrow and leave without ever swimming in this pool.
I remove the shades and turn to put them away. Boom,
MaMkhwanazi’s daughter is standing outside the pool
looking at me like she’s planning my murder.
“Onathi,” I say in surprise.
Zola tried introducing us to each other but she wasn’t
interested.
“Are you mentally okay?” she asks.
“Why? Are you a pyschologist?” I only know people who
studied psychology to be interested in people’s mental
state.
“No, but why are you swimming when it’s so freakin’
cold?”
I laugh, obviously I don’t expect her to understand. She
has her own car, she probably had a pool at home
growing up, this is life to her.
“I’m a child of the water,” I say.
She frowns, “What’s that?”
“Someone who has a spiritual relationship with water. I
was born in the water, I get my powers from it.” I’m
totally making that up.
I love pool water, not Ngwazini river water from the
village.
“So you’re a sangoma?” She looks interested, unlike
when Zola told her I’m her cousin, she was bored. Now
she wants to get to know me and I’m going to make sure
her spoilt brat ways end with her dad and stepmom.
“I’m more spiritually gifted than a sangoma. The
difference is that I don’t need to consult bones or do
anything, if my ancestors sense that I’m in danger or an
enemy is closeby they respond through the water. None
of my enemies live long,” I say.
“Wow!” She’s so impressed that she even sit down to
listen to me.
I don’t see her trying any bullshit with me.
“What about you? What is your belief?” I ask.
“Christianity…” It doesn’t sound like a sure answer.
“What’s your favorite scripture?” I ask.
“Ummmm,” she thinks for a minute. I guess nothing
comes up, she bursts into laughter.
“Honestly, I never had any of that staff growing up but I
love God,” she says.
“So your mom didn’t go to church?” I ask.
“Which mom? I heard the real one goes to church.”
“Not that one, I’m talking about the one who raised you
up," I say.
“I think she went a couple of times but I never went.
Maybe that’s why my life is so fucked up. I don’t even
know if my name is my real name,” she says.
I feel sad for her, I know how it’s like to grow up not
knowing who you really are.
“At least you know your dad now and there’s plenty time
for you guys to have a relationship,” I say.
“I don’t think so. It’s DNA forcing us to have a
relationship, I don’t think we’ll ever have a natural
connection. I felt it with my dad, oh well he’s actually an
uncle. I felt the care and love. Here I feel nothing, I’m
just a girl who was handed over to a man because the
papers were right.”
“Jeez, don’t talk like that Onathi “ It makes me sad that
she feels this way. Even though I understand, I feel like
she’s being hard on herself. I know that’s not how Mr X
sees her.
“It’s the truth, he doesn’t even know what to do when we
are together. He’s happier with her,” she says. Her is
Zola whom she doesn’t seem to get along with.
“Because they’ve known each other longer but I will tell
you what, you’re his first and only child. You’re the first
person to ever call him dad,” I say.
“I have never called him that,” she says.
“Maybe you should, just meet him half way. Maybe once
your relationship has a solid foundation he will arrange
for you to see your mom again.”
“You think so?” Her eyes light up when I mention her
mom.
“Definitely,” I say.
“You’re the best mermaid that I know.”
Mermaid, really?!
If I don’t get out I will freeze, I ask her to pass me the
towel. I wrap myself up and put my shades back on. I
see Onathi as the young version of me, except I don’t
come from a luxurious background, my uncle was never
a hitman and my foot never set inside a private school.
But I think she knows what she wants in life and she's
true to herself.

We walk in, Mr X turns his head and frowns. Him and I

don’t get along, we just tolerate each other. He can’t get
rid of me, I also can’t get rid of him. Zola looks confused
and shocked as him. I think they expected the situation
to be “spoilt brat meet spoilt brat”, not knowing that I’m a
child of the water.
I rush to change, there’s a series we have to watch in a
few minutes. I dry myself and moisturize. My phone
rings. Wrong caller, wrong timing!
“Yini kodwa?” I pick up.
“I booked us for a polygraph tomorrow morning,” he
says.
Maybe I should calm down a bit. “Us? I’m not going
anywhere with you. If you think you’re going to fool me
by booking romantic trips for us while we haven’t…”
“It’s not a romantic trip, we are going to take a test to
see who’s lying,” he says.
Mxm, why did he make it sound like something
amazing?
“Didn’t I say I’m not going?” I’m pissed.
“Why not? You are telling the truth, right?”
“I am, why are you so offended?” I don’t understand why
we have to take it this far.
I said what I said, there can be more than one truths.
“I will see you tomorrow then, don’t drink,” he says.
Now he’s trying to control what I do with my throat. The
nerve of this guy!
Last Night Sponsor*

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 54
ZOLA

It surprised me that Nale gets along with Onathi. Maybe

she has a pull for teenagers because she also gets
along with Nzalo’s sister. Seeing Onathi laughing made
her dad happy. Maybe this situation was meant to
happen, Nale was one piece that was going to complete
the puzzle. I’m also very proud of her, she’s been
respectful towards Xolani.
It’s late, I don’t know what’s still keeping him busy.
Yesterday he left before we could do anything, I miss
him. I’m about to call him because I’m lazy to get out of
bed, he makes his way in.
“I was about to call you,” I say.
He smiles with a slight frown, “Was I missing?”
“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for over five minutes.”
He takes off his T-shirt and gets in bed only in his shorts.
I turn to lie on my side facing him. A smile pulls from the
corners of his mouth. “Why does it look like I’m about to
be devoured?”
“That’s a big word, I just miss you.” I can definitely feel
the difference now that there’s Onathi in the house. We
can no longer move around half naked, playing and
touching each other. It doesn’t help that I think she
doesn’t like me.
“I miss you too.” He tares at me for a good minute and
then smiles, rubbing my chin. “You know sometimes you
pray to God and get everything you prayed for without
even realizing it. All I ever wanted as a young man was
getting financial freedom and finding love, then having a
daughter. My daughter didn’t come from you but I’m sure
there will be a baby in the future.”
I don’t know why that bruises my heart a bit. I wanted his
first child to be my first child but it is what it is.
“God blessed me with everything, especially when it
comes to you. I should’ve never risked our relationship
with nonsense and I promise, you will never talk to me
more than once about one thing. I have so much respect
for you and the role you’ve played in my life so far.”
“I really hope you mean that Xolani.” I hate it when we
argue because it’s always about one thing, or should I
say person.
“I mean it, I’m not going to disappoint you.” He re-
adjusts, pulling me closer to his chest. His lips take
mine, I wrap my hand around his neck, I want him
deeper. His boner grows as our lips entwines, exploring
each other deeply.
My hand grabs out his shaft, it’s already hard. I play with
it, he responds with chest-deep moans in my mouth. Our
lips break apart, I climb on his waist. His hands cup my
butt-cheeks, his lips still searching mine for a kiss. But I
want to kiss him somewhere else.
I slide down, his shorts are just below his balls. The
covers go off to the floor. I pull out his shorts and lick the
tip of his dick. He chuckles, his face lifted curiously.
I get half in my mouth before pressing my tongue and
licking it. It starts off as a practice and ends up a full
blow, with him moaning my name and brushing my head
as it goes down on him. I didn’t think I would enjoy this
so much. I only struggle when he starts moving his
waist, thrusting in my throat like he would in my cookie.
I pull back and hear a groan of frustration.
I need to drink some water and have a breath.
He gets up and grabs me, a bit aggressive. He realizes
how tight his grip is around my arm and lets go. He pins
me down on my back and spreads my legs apart. I want
a kiss but he’s impatiently after something that’s moist
between my legs.
“Xolani get a condom,” I whisper.
He takes a sharp breath. “Can I go raw, just this one
round?”
My mind sanely says no but my body lets in. I wrap my
arm around his back, he kisses my forehead and then
lifts my leg up. His fingers play on my clit before his
shaft makes the grand entrance.
“I really missed you,” he says, moving his waist in a slow
rhythm, his eyes locked on mine.
“I missed you too babe.” My leg goes further up.
I want all of him inside me. There’s something extra that
comes with raw meat filling you up. I call his name, he
raises the pace. There it is! That’s how I want it.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I don’t know which abuse category this falls under, I’m

leaving a comfortable bed early in the morning for a
bloody lie detector test. Nzalo has some serious mental
problems, no normal person would do this thing. So
what if his truth is different from mine? I’m not even
going to talk to him until we get there. I pull a beanie
down my forehead and connect my earphones once I’m
seated in the car. If we get there and find out that I’m the
one telling the truth our relationship will go down the
coffin, he’s pushing the last nail.

I’m sure people come here for serious, life-threatening

stories. Spoilt brat Nzalo is just coming here because he
has money to waste. No machine is going to tell me that
I’m lying. Only I know my truth here.
“Hadebe,” the lady at the door recognizes him then
sympathizes with my unknown self with a fake smile.
“I hope we are on time,” Nzalo says.
“Yes, you’re on time,” she chuckles.
We are led inside the room, I guess this is where the
test is going to happen. There’s a desk and a machine
on top of it. First, there are forms to sign. I must agree in
order for this to happen. It’s a voluntary test, you cannot
be forced to take it. I can refuse, I have a right to, but I
want to put this to bed.
“I’m going to attach four sensors to your body. I cannot
detect that you’re telling a lie but the sensors will record
physical changes that you might have while answering a
question. Your breathing rate, pulse, blood pressure and
perspiration. Your vital signs will be recorded and
examined for each question. Do you understand?”
“Yeah sure, let’s do it.” I don’t talk too much, God speaks
for me.
I go first, she attaches the four sensors to me. I’m calm,
I have taken HIV and pregnancy tests before, this is
nothing.
“Is your name Nalenhle. Yes or no?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Did you brush your teeth this morning?”
Is this a joke?
“Yes,” I say.
“Do you have ten fingers?”
Waste of time?
“Yes, hhayi bo,” I say.
“During the week that you had to prepare for your
mother’s funeral, did your then boyfriend call you only
twice to check up on you?”
I take a deep breath.
“I’m not a Math genius…”
“Please answer yes or no,” she says.
“Yes,” I say.
“Did he ask to come and be with you in person anytime
during that week?”
“No,” I say.
“Did he offer any financial help?”
“Yes.” But it wasn’t for the funeral.
I don’t even know why this is coming up.
“Did he abandon you and made you feel alone in your
relationship?”
“Yes,” I say.
If the results come back saying I’m lying it would mean
this machine is cheap quality from China and it’s not
working properly. Nzalo takes the seat to answer the
same questions. Then we wait for the results like two
strangers. I’m the master of cold shoulder.
“This wasn’t necessary, you know that right?”
Is he kidding me?
“You brought us here,” I say.
“Because the things you said hurt my feelings. You
could’ve made your point without bringing your mother’s
death up because if I could, I would’ve taken that pain
back. I was with you, I felt your pain,” he says.
“You’re a self-absorbed person.” I don’t even know why
I’m having this conversation right now. One thing nobody
can ever do is dismiss my feelings. This is how I feel,
unless he’s living in my heart he can’t tell me otherwise.
The results are ready, I hope this woman knows what
she’s doing. She reads the first questions that she asked
me, they were just general questions asked to set me up
for the real deal questions.
“I asked you a question; during the week that you had to
prepare for your mother’s funeral did your then boyfriend
call you only twice to check up on you. You answered
yes, you were not telling the truth.”
Wait, hold up!
“You didn’t ask me that question,” I say.
She frowns and looks at Nzalo.
“It’s on record,” she says.
“I don’t care, you didn’t ask me that question. If you did it
wasn’t constricted like that and my answer to it wasn’t a
lie,” I say.
“Hhayi-bo Nale, now you’re saying a whole polygraph is
lying?’ Nzalo asks.
I thought he knows me. I told him I don’t want to do this
stupid thing and he kept on pushing. So yes, the
machine is lying, this woman is lying, if he disagrees
with me he’s also lying.
“I have it down on record,” the woman insists.
As if I don’t have my own records in my head.
“My records also say you’re lying, let’s agree to
disagree.” I’m actually done here, Nzalo will find me
outside after settling the bill. I grab my purse and walk
out, leaving them stunned.

It takes a few minutes for him to come out. I don’t know

if he looks angry or disappointed, or both. I get inside
the car and unwrap a bar of chocolate, I didn’t have any
breakfast before leaving my mansion.
“You could’ve refused to take the test right from the start
than this,” he says.
“Didn’t I refuse Nzalo?” I ask.
“If you did you wouldn’t be here. Lying is just a hobby to
you?”
“If you say so,” I say.
He heaves a deep sigh and looks outside the window.
He’s not moving this car anytime soon.
“This whole thing breaks my heart,” he says.
He’s facing the window so I can’t hear him clearly.
“What thing?” I ask.
“The break up, I think it was a harsh decision. Everyone
makes mistakes and it sucks that you had to wait a
certain amount of time before telling me you are not
happy. You could’ve said that earlier and I could’ve fixed
my ways.”
I feel emotionally blackmailed right now.
“So now everything is my fault?” I ask.
“That’s not what I’m saying, I’m saying you could’ve
been more open from the very beginning. What can I do
with a statement that says ever since we started dating I
have never been happy, months down the line?”
“I didn’t say I have never been happy, I said our
relationship changed and gradually gotten worse.
Especially after you found out about Musa,” I say.
“I hear you,” he looks outside the window again.
Are we ever going to move from here?
“But I really wanted us to work, on my side everything
was okay. I was happy throughout the course of our
relationship. I felt loved, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed
with anyone the way I have laughed with you. I wanted it
to be a forever thing, I don’t know where I came short. I
always have a plan, in case something doesn’t work out.
But for the first time in my life I have no plan, Nalenhle.
I’m not sure how stuff works now that you’ve chosen to
walk your journey without me. I feel lost, I feel
confused.”
“I didn’t choose Nzalo, you’re misusing the word. I didn’t
see any other option, you were making me walk my
journey alone anyway,” I say.
“It wasn’t my intention, I could prove that to you if you
give me another chance. Everyone makes mistakes, I
never said I don’t want to learn and become a better
boyfriend. I only need a chance to, I will take pointers
and improve,” he says.
“Couldn’t you say this right when I told you how I feel?
You had to cause drama first. Leave my place without
taking a shower, discussing me with everyone close to
us and dragging me to take polygraph.” I don’t
understand how he became the dramatic one and who
told him dramatic men are tolerable.
“I was confused,” he says.
“You’re confused about everything lately, you need to
touch a reset button. Please start the car and find us
somewhere to eat.” This man has stressed me way too
much, I deserve a good treat.
“Nale?” He’s looking at me.
I sigh, “What? You think I would be going out to eat your
money if I wasn’t giving you another chance?”
“Yes,” he says.
Wow, I can’t believe he’s trying to blow out his chance
so instantly!
“I have missed you so much baby.” He finally smiles.
I won’t admit that I missed him probably way more than
he did.
We share our first post-break-up kiss. I’m a good kisser,
he really almost lost a diamond.
“Shit, shit! We have to go,” he says, grabbing his
sunglasses from the dashboard.
What’s going on? I’m seeing a man walking with a
camera towards us.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“Fuckin’ journalist. I don’t know what they want because
everything that we know is already on the media,” he’s
annoyed.
“Wait, we can’t leave! Nzalo!” I’m going to lose my mind
right now.
This is my only shot at becoming a celebrity and he just
ruined it. I could’ve had my face all over the newspapers
tomorrow morning and signed autographs for my fans.
“I hate this,” he finally slows down.
The only thing I hate right now is his empty head.
“You’re unbelievable, shem.”

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 55
NALENHLE

My uncle and I have never had any conversation about

not moving in with a man. There’s been never a need for
it because I’ve never been the one to give up my
personal space for a man. But I’ve weighed my options
now and I don’t see why I should be in Mr X’s house, not
with my boyfriend. This might be a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity. If not for the so-called safety reasons, why
else would I live with Nzalo? Marriage isn’t something on
the table yet.
He pulls up outside Mr X’s house. “So later I should
come and pick you up?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
He smiles, “2pm?”
“Mjita, you said later, 2pm is in 3 hours.”
“Now I’m mjita to you?” He laughs.
I kiss his lips and take his designer sunglasses for future
glam purposes.
I open the door, he calls my name.
“I love you,” he says.
“Thank you,” I haven’t chopped down my ego yet.
He shakes his head with a low chuckle.
“Why don’t you come and greet your new cousin?” I ask.
“Oh no, she will be triggered from seeing me,” he says.
Damn, I forget that he’s not a sweetheart to everyone. I
bid goodbye and make my way in.

Onathi is in the kitchen, I’m surprised she knows how to

warm her own meal in the microwave.
“I’m shocked,” I say.
“So am I,” she folds her arms, looking at me.
She’s a beauty princess, you can tell she grew up eating
cornflakes for breakfast.
“Shocked by me?” I'm confused.
“You’re dating that guy,” she says.
“Isn’t he your cousin?” I ask.
“No, he doesn’t like me. Why are you with him? He’s
evil.”
Only if she knew how that devil makes me feel!
“Once you give yourself time to get to know everyone
better you will understand them,” I say.
“I believe in first impressions,” she says.
I’m not going to try and convince her otherwise. She’s
here to stay, this is her family, she will adapt.
“Where is Zola?” I ask.
She scoffs, “Upstairs.”
“Since morning?” I know Zola loves Mr X a bit too extra
but this is unhealthy.
“Get ready for a sibling,” I say.
“Yikes! I can’t picture that, dad is too old.”
Wait, did she just call him dad? I feel like a class teacher
whose students produced 100% pass rate. But Mr X
isn’t too old for sex, in fact he’s the right age for sex,
Onathi should be painting cartoons.
.
.
.
I will talk to my uncle first and then inform everyone that
I’m moving out. I won’t tell him all the details but he’s
probably seen something on the news. I can’t change
location and not inform my family. Life is unpredictable,
anything can happen.
He answers, “This is a blessing.”
I call him everyday, I don’t know why he always acts like
I don’t.
“My handsome uncle that I love,” I say.
“Alright, you want something. What is it?”
“A favour,” I say.
“What kind of favor?”
“A favor to move in with Nzalo for a couple of weeks, it’s
not safe where we are at the moment,” I say.
“There’s nothing called a moving-in-with-a-boy favor. If
it’s not safe where you are, you must both come back
home. Alikho ithuna lendlala,” he says.
“Zola has already moved in with Mr X,” I say.
“What? Are you kidding me? I made it very clear to
Nokuzola where I stand.”
Oops!
“If you both can’t do what you left home for anymore,
then take a taxi back home. What kind of madness is
this? One moves in with a father and the other moves in
with a son. Is that how bad am I as a parent?”
I can hear his wife in the background asking what’s
going on. The call is dropped from his side, I try calling
him again but the number is busy. Maybe it’s signal
issues, I connect my phone to the charger and get my
suitcase to start packing again. I know he’s just
shocked, not angry. My uncle can never say no to me.

“Nalenhle! Nalenhle!
Do we have a madwoman in this beautiful mansion?
I open the door. It’s Zola, I almost called the cops.
“Why are you screaming like a madwoman?” I ask.
“For a day I thought I could trust you but you’ve already
ran your big mouth to dad, as if I wasn’t going to let him
know in my own time.” Zola is a short girl with anger
issues, everybody knows.
“I wasn’t ratting you out, I just used you as an example,”
I say.
“You could’ve pleaded your case without involving my
name. What’s wrong with you?” For her man’s sake I
hope she calms down.
“You were the only example I had. What did you expect
me to do? Use Rihanna as an example, he doesn’t know
her.” I don’t see what I did wrong here. “Is he still
angry?”
“What do you think?” She’s livid.
Mr X appears with a phone on his ear.
We both look at him until he humbly wishes the person a
good day.
Then he sighs, “It’s okay, sthandwa sami.”
“Did he understand?” Zola asks.
“A bit, I think we’ll have it sorted during the negotiations,"
he says.
I’m glad they talked about it, man to man. Knowing my
uncle, he will fine him for disrespecting his rules.
“What about my situation? What did he say?” I ask.
Nobody answers me. He takes Zola’s hand and they
walk away. Now I’m an enemy to them but they wouldn’t
even know each other’s name if it wasn’t for me.
My phone rings inside the bedroom, I rush back in.

It’s my uncle, I think Mr X knocked some sense into his

head.
“Nale, this is your aunt,” – it's his wife.
“Oh, hello aunty,” I’m surprised.
“We just heard what happened to your illegal partners’
family,” she says.
“Ummm yeah.” I can’t believe she just called them that.
“You still remember what I said about condoms, right?”
Sigh!
“Yes, I always remember,” I say.
“Good. If there’s no condom keep your thighs shut, if
he’s too itchy he will warm himself there, away from the
main castle.” Jeez.
“Aunty you realize this information is on the internet as
well, I can easily remind myself there if I forget,” I don’t
want to hold this weird conversation.
“If you trusted the internet that much then why didn’t you
seek permission to move in with a boy from there?” she
asks.
“Okay aunty, what else?” This is embarrassing.
I’m a grown independent woman, I own an iPhone.
“Respect yourself, and by that I mean don’t always be
available for him,” she says.
“I’m not moving in with him as in moving in, I’m just
going there for safety reasons,” I say.
“Yes, you’re moving in as in moving in. Even if it’s just a
couple of weeks a boy will want what all boys want. I
wish I can say uhlale ngentombi but that only applied
years ago,” I hear a heavy sigh.
“I hear you, you don’t have to worry about me.” I wish I
can loudly add that I have years of experience in the sex
department, Nzalo can’t get me pregnant even if he bets
his life on it.
.
.
.
**AT THE THABETHES**

Thabethe walks in, he wants his phone back now before

they finish his airtime. These kids don’t listen, there’s no
advice they’re going to take seriously.
“My phone,” he says.
Khululiwe ends the call and gives it back. She trusts
Nale a bit more than Zola. Zola might fall pregnant from
this arrangement.
“They could’ve just came home,” Thabethe is still
ranting.
“Hhayi-bo Thabethe, they have jobs that side. They will
take care of themselves, I talked to both of them about
safe sex.”
His jaw twitches. Sex is sex, whether it’s safe or not.
The other one recently broke Nale’s heart, the other one
is his age mate wanting to devour his child.
“I’m going to clean Bazamile’s room,” she says. She was
on her way there when the call came. Everytime she
misses her sister-in-law she goes to her room.
Sometimes she sleeps here, leaving her husband alone
in their bedroom.
Bazamile left a mark, it’s been lonely without her. She’s
felt useless, like she’s got nothing to look forward to
everyday. Thabethe still has his sheep to worship. The
kids went back to their lives. She’s the only one who
seems to be stuck with a void that nobody can fill.
The door opens, it’s Thabethe following her. She
immediately gets off the bed and holds the broom.
“It’s okay, I know you’re just here to be closer to her,” he
says.
Nothing much has changed in their marriage, the
distance is still there.
“I miss her, Thabethe. Is it only me or it feels quiet
without her?”
He frowns, “Quiet?”
“Yeah. That’s stupid, right?”
“I don’t think it’s stupid, you were the closest person to
her.” He wraps his arms around her. She doesn’t fight
him, she lets him hold her. She’s cried enough since the
funeral, at some point she has to figure out how life
moves forward without her. She has to find a hobby or
something else that’s going to keep her occupied.
“Mama wez’ngane zami nami ngiyakudinga nami,” he
pleads his case once again. He also needs her, their
marriage needs her to work. It’s been a long time, they
have to move on from this and focus on their marriage.
“I’m always here for you though, I didn’t leave,” she
says.
“But our needs have been neglected for so long. I sleep
with a blanket wrapped around me. Is this how I’m going
to live the rest of my life, mkami?”
She takes a deep breath. “It’s midday Thabethe,
awukahle.”
“Right now I’d take anything, anytime of the day. Even if
it’s your hand mkami, as long as you touch me.” He
looks into her eyes gently. A vein has popped on his
forehead. “I even shaved my beard off because I don’t
know if you still find me attractive or you’re distracted by
it. Awusang’thandi yini Khululiwe?”
“Hhayi Thabethe, why would I be here if I didn’t love
you?” She’s blushing.
“Then show me,” he says, his hand running over her
jawline.
“What if Thami comes back from school and finds us
having sex in his aunt’s room?”
“He’s not coming home until 2:45pm. Don’t worry, lift this
up mama, let me see.” He kisses her lips and lifts her
dress up. She releases an enormous sigh. His hand
slides under her petticoat, there’s a full black
MaMhlongo pant blocking his way.
He looks at her, smiling. “Let’s get this out.”
She pulls it down to her ankles and steps out of it. Now
he can freely touch her kitty. It’s hiding in a thick bush,
his fingers rub over her clit that’s hanging like a light
bulb. Their lips move on top of each other. He keeps
moaning softly, his thick black mamba is poking his blue
overalls.
He unbuttons it and takes it off. A starved, provoked
black mamba stands up against his navel with pre-cum
coating its head.
She lies on her sister-in-law’s bed, her hefty thighs
slightly open. Thabethe leans over for a kiss, then
spreads her legs further apart. Her clit looks two times
bigger and hard, he rubs it sideways until she squirms.
“Thabethe!”
He blocks her from closing her legs and brings his black
mamba closer. She’s wet, he rubs her thick moisture
around the head of his mamba and slowly dips in her
pink hole, keeping her thick lips separated with his
fingers.
“Aaah, mama wakwami.” A sensation just rushed
throughout the veins of his body.
Khululiwe shuts her eyes and keeps her focus on the
warm feeling of pleasure she’s feeling deep inside her
as he fills up her core.
“It’s still just you, Khululiwe. There’s no one else, no one
else to give me this.” He releases a deep groan and
raises his pace. A thunderous sound comes as he slams
against her hefty thighs. His deep moans feel the room.
She’s muffling her screams.
He stops and stands still. “Fuqa mama, fuqa!”
Khululiwe balances her elbows down and moves her
waist up.
“Thabethe, it feels good,” she cries out.
He pins her down, it’s his turn to move again. “Hold the
Thabethes mama, they’re now coming.”
She lies on her back with her eyes closed and waits until
she feels warm mayonnaise spilling inside her. Her
husband’s deep groan is satisfying to listen to. It’s been
over two decades and he still enjoys her the way he did
the first time.
He pulls out, his black mamba still looks unsatisfied.
“I love you, Mam’ Thabethe.”

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 56

After Nale’s departure, Onathi went back to full brat-

mode. She didn’t show up for dinner, her dad had to
take her dinner to her in the bedroom. He understands
that it’s hard, her world changed abruptly and she is not
familiar with this new family. But they cannot continue
like this, at some point she has to meet him half way.
He walks in once again, Onathi is curled up on bed with
her phone.
“We have to talk,” he says.
She doesn’t acknowledge him; she keeps her eyes on
the phone.
“If you want to go, you can go Onathi,” he’s fed up.
She snaps her brows and looks up. “You want me to
go?”
“If that’s what you want, because this is not working. I’m
trying my best here and you seem to think everything is
my fault. I said as soon as it’s safe, Winnie will visit you.
But that’s not enough, you want to go back and be a
milkcow for those two criminals. I don’t know what
makes you think Winnie will want you back, Phindile is
no longer there to fund her for looking after you.”
His words stab like a sword. Yes, they’ve been
communicating, she’s been trying to be a daughter but
the energy Winnie returns hasn’t been the same. She
excused the nonchalance she had when Nzalo wanted
to grind her feet. She showed no sympathy for her, in
fact she was willing to see someone she’s called her
daughter being killed.
“Do you want me to drive you to Durban tomorrow?”
Xolani asks.
She keeps quiet.
“I can do that but just know that the property you all had
was under Phindile and anything that was under her was
joint to her late husband, meaning Nzalo and his siblings
are entitled to everything.”
“Is she dead? Phindile?” she asks.
“Do you care?” Xolani.
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah.”
“And you don’t care about me?” It doesn’t make sense.
Phindile didn’t raise her either. Is it because she sent
money? Did Winnie ruin this child to that extent?
She doesn’t answer his question.
“Do you want me to take you to Winnie? I can do that,”
he asks.
“I want my car,” she says.
“No.” He’s not going to allow.
He got her the phone, that’s enough.
“Then get out of my room and close the door, I don’t
want to talk to you anymore.” She pulls the covers over
her head.
“Onathi don’t try me!”
“Get out, Xolani,” she yells.
He takes a deep breath to control himself. This is not
what he signed up for. This is a nightmare, not a child he
dreamed of.

Zola watches him walking in and kicking his shoes off.

He’s angry, clenching his jaws and looking ready to pop
off.
“What happened?” she asks.
“That child, Nokuzola. That child! I’m going to end up in
jail.”
“What has she done?” she asks.
 “The way she disrespects me, you’d swear I denied her
as a baby or ran away from her mother. How is
everything my fault? She’s under my roof and telling me
to get out of the room that I built!”
“Whoah! She kicked you out?” Zola is shocked.
“Can you imagine? I’m tempted to go and drag her
outside the gate, let’s see if her so-called parents come
through without a cheque,” he says.
“No, that’s harsh. I don’t think you are what rocks her
boat. Both you and I, she doesn’t like us. She related
better to Nale and warmed up to her. This might be too
strict for her, she’s used to a slayqueen mom who
allowed her to be on social media, out in clubs and
parties, wearing whatever the heck she wanted. Now
there’s you with thousand house rules and non-playful
nature.”
“I’m trying to protect her,” he says, getting more irritated.
Zola out of all people should understand this.
“But obviously she doesn’t see it that way,” she says.
“That’s why I told her to go back to Winnie if she wants.
Let’s see how she survives there without Phindile’s
cheque,” he says.
Zola rolls her eyes and drops her eyes back to the
phone.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Msindisi is not okay and I wonder what’s eating him up.

He’s a cheerful person, always smiling and looking
handsome. But today he just looks lost. Maybe it’s the
change of environment and he misses MaMkhwanazi.
Nzalo is taking a bath, I join him in the dining room. He’s
still playing with his food that was dished an hour ago.
“Are you homesick?” I sit down on the chair.
He sighs, “Not at all, I’m okay.”
“You can’t fool me. What’s going on?” Msindisi has been
there for me at my lowest, it’s only fair that I return the
favour.
“I’m just confused and hurt,” he says.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.
“Not now, but thank you. Thank you for forgiving him as
well.” He cracks a thin smile.
“He’s very dramatic,” I say.
“I know, hey.” He pushes the plate away and leans back
on the chair with his hands behind his neck. He’s
stressed, it’s evident in his eyes.
“Msindisi!” I feel sad for him.
“I’m just sad, Nale,” he says.
“Why though?” I ask.
“Because it took years for me to love myself and be
confident,” he says.
“What do you mean?” I’m confused.
“I just struggle with confidence and now I don’t think I
have any that’s left. And this time around I know that I
have no one,” he says.
“You have your family nje,” I say.
“Lwethu is young and she’s a girl. Nzalo is not like me,
he doesn’t deal with things like me, he will never
understand me. I don’t even know if I want to talk about
what’s going on in my head while I don’t even
understand myself at times.”
“I get it. Do you think you need professional
counseling?” I ask.
“I just want the world to silence for a month or two,” he
says.
I doubt that can happen, there’s a lot to talk about in the
world for us to be quiet.
“Time heals. Do you want a hug?” I ask.
He smiles lazily and nods. I hug him, I don’t know how
he lacks confidence with his looks and on the other hand
Nzalo believes he’s Mr Universe.
I leave him because he needs silence, I hope being here
in his mother’s house will bring some healing to his
heart.

Nzalo is the real mermaid here, I don’t know how can a

man spend over 15 minutes bathing. He’s finally out,
staring at himself in the mirror while applying a lotion.
“Why are you partially feminine?” I ask.
He laughs, “Because I have to look good and get a
spare girlfriend, just in case I get dumped again.”
“You have dry jokes. Come and sit down.” I want to talk
to him about serious issues, not spare girlfriend
delusions.
He wraps up, taking his time and finally grants me his
attention.
“Msindisi is not okay. Are you aware?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says.
“What is your plan?”
“I think he will be okay once justice is served.
Babomncane is taking us somewhere tomorrow,
hopefully that’s also going to help. Otherwise there’s
nothing I can do unless he asks me to do something. I’m
just going to be here.”
“Be a good brother, be emotionally available. It may not
be what you want when facing situations but people are
different,” I say.
“I get it and I’m trying to be what you want.” Now he’s
making this about me.
I’m over it. I carry myself through pain and survive.
He holds my hand. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask.
“Caring about my brother. I love how you didn’t break
your relationship with my siblings when you and I
weren’t seeing eye to eye. That’s maturity I didn’t expect
from you,” he says.
“I don’t know if this is a shade or compliment. But I’m not
childish and they’re nice to me, unlike you,” I say.
“Okay let’s talk about it. Beside the emotional
availability, what else do you not like? I don’t want to
hear you telling me that you’re unhappy after months.”
“I want you to be a man and provide for me.” He asked
and I’m giving him my honest answer.
I don’t know what’s tickling him; he’s laughing his
stomach out.
He finally stops. “Okay. Are you going to be a woman for
me in return?”
“What do you mean?” I’m confused.
“Never mind.” He laughs again.
I still don’t know what’s funny.
“Can you please get me my socks? My feet are cold.”
“Why don’t you get them yourself?” I’m not his wife, this
is exactly what my aunt warned me about. Once you’re
available and physically present men take you for
granted.
He stares at me for a minute and then gets them
himself. It wasn’t that hard, was it?
.
.
.
Nzalo told me about the morning trip Mr X is taking them
to but I didn’t think it would be this early. I’m woken up
by Nzalo running around getting ready.
“Morning babe,” he kisses my forehead.
“I thought we’d cuddle a bit.” I came here because we
have to make up and Mr X is dragging him back to the
“busy Nzalo” that I hated.
“We’ll cuddle all day, this will only take three hours.” He
kisses me again. “Come and greet babomncane,
please.”
Can this morning get any worse?
“Do I have to?” I ask.
“Yeah, he knows that you’re here.”
I’m not just his girlfriend, I’m Zola’s aunt too. I don’t have
to be nice to Mr X if I choose not.
I put my robe on and drag myself to the kitchen where
he is.
“Morning,” I say.
He looks up, his brow curves up. “Hi Nale.”
“Nzalo said I must come and greet you,” I say.
“Oh, it makes sense,” he says.
Done.
Oh, I turn back.
“How is Onathi?” I ask.
“Crazy, that’s how she is.” His phone rings.
I don’t think he’s good at raising children, maybe he’s
just good at dating them.
I leave him to his phone call.

Just as I’m about to enter the bedroom, he comes right

after my heel calling Nzalo. He has to go home real
quickly, this is news to my ears.
“I thought you cleared your morning for this,” Nzalo is
ready to go and this delay annoys him.
“I don’t know what she’s doing in my house,” he says
and hurries out, leaving us confused.
Who is she that’s worrying him so much?
My phone rings in the midst of confusion.
“Mzala,” I answer.
“Guess who joined me this morning?”
“I don’t have time for guessing Zola.” I have to use this
opportunity to get some cuddling.
“Miss Robyn,” she says.
“Fuck! What is she doing there? What does she want?”
“I don’t know, Xolani will explain when he gets here,” she
says.
Gosh, I hope Mr X’s white is white because we are
expecting lobola very soon.
Zola sounds calmer than I would be.
I look at Nzalo, “Let’s follow.”
“No, we are having coffee and minding our business.”
What business do we have? Is it better than Mr X’s
business?
I want to know what brought Robyn to his house.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 58
NALENHLE

We are back in our place, I don’t think I will be going

back to Nzalo before my cousin is okay. She’s hurting, I
have gone to buy some comfort food and spent a
fortune. I go out and drink my sorrows away when
heartbroken. Zola is an indoor person, she doesn’t drink,
comforting her is very tricky.
I know this is not the conversation she wants to have
right now but we have to talk about it.
“When are you telling your dad?” I ask.
“You will tell him on my behalf,” she says.
“Say you’re joking!” I don’t have the courage to do that.
My uncle has been against her relationship since day
one, it wasn’t easy for him to accept Mr X’s proposal
letter, now I have to tell him to cancel preparations? No,
I can’t.
“I’m not joking, you know he understands you better
than me,” she says.
“I love you mzala but I can’t.” I bump heads with my
uncle too, I just know how to get my way around him. I
can’t be the one always bringing bad news in the family.
She sighs heavily, “Can you get me some ice-cream?”
I don’t mind, I’ve been running errands since we got
here. I rinse a cup and get her some ice-cream in it.
When I come back, she’s crying again.
“You will get sick Zola, you have to stop now.” I give her
the ice-cream.
She wipes her face and starts eating. Mr X is a horrible
man, I hope MaMkhwanazi is out there planning to
bomb his house. Both him and Robyn deserve hell.
.
.
.

There’s a car outside. I hope it’s not Mr X, I don’t have

boiled water to pour on him. I look through the window,
it’s Nzalo. I thought they’d take longer with their
mysterious trip.
I wait for him at the door.
He comes out in dark green tracksuits and white cap.
Why am I smiling? Is it how handsome he looks or the
gift bag in his hand? Nzalo hardly gives gifts but when
he does, they’re thoughtful and expensive.
A smile pulls from his lips when he sees my cheerful
face. “Awuzithandi kanje izinto!”
“I was just appreciating your cap, I didn’t even notice
what’s in your hands,” I say.
He kisses my lips and gives it to me. “Is it safe to go in?”
“Yeah, she’s calm,” I say.
We walk in, I’m rushing to see what he bought me. He
walks on into the lounge where Zola is. I open the gift
bag, there’s a big silver chain. Maybe he thinks I aspire
to be Tupac, I take it out and feel its weight. This is not
fake, not that I expect any fake from him. There’s a little
padlock thing on the front. I don’t understand, this is a
complicated chain.
“Babeee!” I yell, making my way to him.
I know this might look inconsiderate to Zola but I don’t
mean to flex.
“Is this a padlock?” I ask.
He laughs, “No, but you can open that and put any small
thing that reminds you of your mom so that you can
carry her around.”
I can’t think of anything that will fit here, unless I tear a
small piece of her favorite cloth and put it. I really love it
now.
I try it on, I look like a struggling Tupac with my cheap
sweat pants. Wait….is this my mom’s death date
embossed on it?
I look at him, “Is this a date or just numbers?”
His look softens, he blows me a kiss and turns back to
Zola.
I rush to the bedroom and look at myself in the mirror.
This is not a coincidence, he had a chain made in my
mother’s honor. A real chain that I can trade for a fortune
and afford a hitman to take out Mr X on Zola’s behalf.

Hands hold my waist. He turns me around and wipes my

cheeks. Something dropped on them and made them
wet. He kisses my lips and engulfs me in a tight hug.
“Awusatetemi kanje!”
I take a deep breath, “Thank you, I really appreciate
this.”
“You’re welcome. I have spoken to Zola, you’re coming
with me.”
“Urgh Nzalo, I can’t leave her in this state. Not to
mention that we are not safe.” If MaMkhwanazi wants to
touch one of us, she must touch both. I die where my
cousin dies.
“I will have someone keeping an eye on her,” he says.
“You or your uncle sent you?” I don’t trust the Hadebes.
“I will,” he says.
I don’t know if I trust him, Mr X could have sent him.
“After what he did, do you still trust him?” I ask.
He frowns, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he cheated on my cousin and lied. I wouldn’t
want to keep anyone like that in my circle,” I say.
“Don’t tell me you want me to stop talking to my uncle.”
Here it is, he supports Mr X.
I carefully take off the chain. I appreciate it, not the
person who bought it.
“Come on Nale, these people will forgive each other and
get back together. Where will that leave me? I’m not
taking any side,” he says.
Men will always support each other’s bullshit.
“Zola will not go back to your uncle. Do you know how
many men are queueing to have a chance with her? I’m
talking about handsome men from magazines.”
“I guess it’s babomncane’s loss then,” he says.
“Exactly, he’s a fool and I’m not goings anywhere with
you.”
“What have I done?” He laughs.
“Your uncle’s sins have fallen upon your shoulders. We
were together last night, why can’t you understand this
family emergency and go spend the night with
Msindisi?”
“Babomncane took us to a herbalist that gave us herbs
to use. I have to get incisions on my body and that shit is
scary, I need moral support.” This is Nzalo ke, he will
ask for support for literally everything he does. Be it
celebrating his mother’s birthday, sleeping in her house,
or just using herbs. But does he know how to support
another person? That’s a story for another day.
.
.
.
XOLANI HADEBE

The truth always comes out; this is a saying he

underestimated. That night could’ve been different, he
could’ve acted like a man in a relationship. To him sex
with Robyn means nothing. It’s just two horny people
helping each other and he stops thinking about it the
minute he cums. Robyn has never been a shadow that
could make him doubt his future with Zola. Even
between her legs, he knew that Nokuzola was the only
woman his heart wants. That’s what hurts him the most
about this situation. It would’ve been better if his
relationship ended because of something that exists.
Nokuzola doesn’t understand, in her eyes he cheated.
Okay, he did cheat because he slept with another
woman. But that was his dick, Robyn has never been in
his heart and she knows that. Even without Nokuzola,
she wouldn’t be an option. He’s known her for a long
time and gotten intimate with her many times, but he’s
never seen any future or present with her.
“No phones on the dinner table,”
He lifts his eyes to Onathi. Another fucked up
relationship he has.
“I’m waiting for a call,” he says.
“It’s been a whole day, she’s not going to call you back.
We are having dinner, put that phone away,” she’s just
repeating his rules.
He goes off; “Where do you think you are? This is my
house, you’re not going to tell me what to do, okay?”
“No, you can’t make the rules and then break them.
Phone away, Xolani!” She’s really Phindile’s daughter.
He sighs and puts it away. Nokuzola is not taking his
calls. It hasn’t been a good day for him and the last thing
he wants to do is reason with a teenager.
Onathi smiles when obeyed. “Don’t worry, you will find
someone else.”
“I’m not looking for someone else, I already have
someone. I just need to find a way to get her
forgiveness,” he says.
“I don’t think she’s a forgiving person.” She’s taken this
opportunity with both hands. Now her father can feel
how it’s like being apart with someone that you love.
“She is,” he says.
It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself more
than her.
“What’s so special about her?” Onathi asks.
“She’s a loving woman, she knows how to make
someone feel loved and appreciated. And for someone
who never had any of that growing up, it’s something I
want to hold on for eternity.”
“Your parents didn’t love you?” For the first time she’s
curious about him.
It’s not a conversation he wanted to have right now but
Onathi might never be interested again.
“I believe they did, they just had more important
priorities and that created tension between us. Even
between Nzalo’s dad and I. I really have been alone my
whole life. I have always felt that way until Nokuzola.”
“Your whole life? What about Phindile?” she asks, a bit
offended. It would be comforting to at least know that
she was made with love.
“We were young, I loved her, but that feeling never went
away. Our relationship was long distant for the most of
it,” he says.
“How do you know that you’re in love and not just
desperate to settle down with a younger, beautiful girl
who can give you babies so that you don’t die a lonely,
old man?”
“Wow!” This question is really disappointing.
“You could be,” Onathi says.
“I’m not scared of being alone, I have been for the most
of my life. I love her, I’m at peace when I’m with her,” he
says.
“Clearly not, otherwise the aunty who was here wouldn’t
have gotten in the picture. Why are you playing with
food and not eating?”
This child wants to see him crumble.
“I don’t feel like eating,” he says and grabs his phone.
“Where do you think this food will go?” she asks.
As mad as he is, he laughs. What did he ever do to
deserve a daughter like this?
“You’re a menace!” He puts the phone away and
respects the table rules until she’s done eating.
He won’t be able to sleep without talking to Zola. If
needs to be, she must punish him. He can’t survive a
break-up, he doesn’t see himself moving on without her.
“Finish your drink and dress up warmly,” he says.
Onathi frowns, “Why?”
“I can’t leave you here alone, I want to go and see
Nokuzola,” he says.
“Adding harassment on top of cheating!” she gets up
with her glass and leaves him dumbstruck.
Does this child think he’s her mate?
He’s not harassing Nokuzola, he wants to fix things.
Who is Onathi to speak on people’s relationships? An
infant!
.
.
.
ZOLA

For the first time ever, Nale spent money on me. I had a
good excuse for sitting on this couch the whole day,
sending her around and getting everything I want. But
Nzalo happened, now she’s gone. Not that I expected
their relationship to stop because of me, I understand
they just made up and need time to be together. But I
didn’t need to be alone.
There’s a car across the street, Nzalo said I shouldn’t
mind it as it will be there the whole night. The
MaMkhwanazi situation is a bit exaggerated but I
appreciate him looking out for me. When the knock
comes, I conclude it’s someone from that car maybe
here to ask for a glass of water. I open the door and my
eyes land on Xolani’s brat.
He’s behind her.
God, is this a test?
“Hi,” Onathi walks in without my permission.
This child and I don’t even hold conversations.
I look at him, “And then?”
“Can we talk, Nokuzola?”
“I thought we already did. Why are you here?” Seeing
him brings back the pain that Nale spent so much
money trying to numb. All the lies he told me, scheming
with Robyn via phone calls to convince me that nothing
was going on, knowing very well they were still actively
involved.
“I won’t be able to sleep Nokuzola, let’s find a solution
please,” he says.
“What solution?” I don’t understand because he can’t
undo what he’s done.
“Punish me however you want. Scream at me, smash
my cars, beat me if you want, I won’t fight back. Just do
something, hurt me back,” he says.
“I will smash your cars and you will get them fixed
tomorrow. I will slap you and you will be fine in a few
minutes. What will I get in return? You still won't
understand the pain you’ve put me through.”
“I do understand,” he says.
“What do you understand? Have you ever gotten your
soul naked for someone and talked about your
insecurities over and over again, only for that person to
turn around and dig on the same wound? Have you ever
loved someone and hated yourself for it?”
“I know you feel betrayed and hurt, I’m responsible for
that. I know I fucked up, I don’t deserve your love but I
need it,” he says.
“Ungilamaza kuyona le nhliziyo obheka kuyona uthando
Xolani? Kanjani?” I don’t understand, you cannot cut
down a tree if you still need its shade.
“Can you explain that to me?” I ask.
“I can’t, all I can say is that I will never make the same
mistake again.” He’s calling it a mistake and I don’t
understand a mistake that you properly plan and use lies
to protect over and over again.
“Excuse me….” Onathi says behind me.
I turn my eyes to her.
“Do you have a blanket? I’m cold,” she asks.
“Don’t worry, your father is now leaving,” I say.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 59
ZOLA

I have to call home and break the news. I don’t want to

wait until the Hadebes go there, they have to know that
my relationship has ended. My dad never really
accepted Xolani, age was the issue. I can’t call him, I
have to go through my mother. She’s easier to talk to,
even though I hardly talk about my personal
relationships with them. It just goes to show that you can
all grow under the same roof, raised by the same
parents, but your experiences will never be the same.
Nale tells both of them about almost every boyfriend and
struggle she goes through. I don’t talk boyfriend stuff
with them, unless Nale spills the beans and I’m being
confronted.
She picks up, “My beloved daughter!”
“Hey mom,” I say.
“Are you okay? Your voice sounds rough.”
I take a deep breath, gathering my emotions. “I’m not
okay, Xolani and I broke up.”
“Today it’s you, a few days ago it was Nalenhle.” She’s
not taking this seriously.
“Mine is serious, he cheated on me.” I don’t even know if
that’s correct, Robyn has known him the longest, maybe
it’s me he cheated on her with.
“He has another girlfriend?” she asks.
“I don’t know if it’s a girlfriend but he confessed that he
slept with her. I’ve never been so confused in my life.” It
confuses me because he proposed to me, Robyn had
been in the picture for longer, and deep down in my
heart I feel like he does love me.
“Can someone who really love you cheat and lie to
you?” I ask.
“Men are complicated, my child. I don’t know what to
say, I don’t know him but seeing his love through you
made me believe in him. I trusted him, I’m truly
disappointed.” This makes the both of us, I also trusted
him.
“Please let dad know, the lobola negotiations are
canceled,” I say.
“Isn’t that harsh? Have you thought this through?” Her
question surprises me.
We agreed that he disappointed us just a minutes ago.
“I thought about it, I can’t marry him,” I say.
“You don’t love him anymore?” he asks.
“I don’t know if I still do and I’m just angry. But this is
where I stand right now, just tell dad and apologize on
my behalf,” I say.
“Okay, I will do that. So you’re alone there?”
“Yeah but I have security, I’m okay,” I say.
“Take it one step at a time and listen to your heart.”
“Thanks mom,” I feel a bit better after talking to her.
I go through my pictures, his face is all over my gallery. I
took random pictures of him sleeping and eating. I was
so in love, I would have done anything for this man, I
don’t know why he undermined my feelings.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

The instructions say they must incise and put some

black powder and puke with warm water and herbs in
the morning. My 16 year old cousin doesn’t even close
his eyes when getting incised, a man must get
strengthened. But these two Thobile’s sons are looking
at the razors like they’ve never seen them before. Nzalo
kidnaps people day in and day out but he’s scared of
razors.
“I’m tired, it’s either you guys do this or tell your uncle
that he wasted his time and money.” I didn’t come here
to sit on the couch the whole night.
“Msindisi you are starting, I will do it tomorrow,” Nzalo
says.
“No!” Msindisi refuses.
“You have a problem, not me.”
That’s a bit harsh, he didn’t ask MaMkhwanazi to steal
his underwear and feed him sputum. But I get it, he’s
affected the most. He could’ve also killed a woman, he
needs this the most. I excuse myself when he takes his
shirt off. I have seen him without his shirt but we were at
the beach, here it looks inappropriate.

I can’t believe I can hear Msindisi groaning from the

bedroom. They’re extra, there’s nothing scary about
razors. I’m happy to hear laughter here and there, these
two hardly have any bonding moments. I appreciate any
moment, even if they’re bonding over witchcraft.
I’m about to doze off when Nzalo walks in. He has his
sleeves up like he was slaughtering a goat or
something.
“Please don’t sleep, there’s a story I want to tell you,” he
says taking his clothes off.
He’s going to the shower, I have to keep myself busy to
be able to wait for the story. I’m not a coffee girl but I
decide to get a cup. I put on my robe and make my way
to the kitchen.
I’m boiling water, I hear footsteps coming and turn my
head.
Jeez, he’s still shirtless.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” he says.
“It’s fine, I’m just getting a cup of coffee.” I don’t know
why it feels inappropriate, maybe it’s because Nzalo is
here. Otherwise him and I are very close.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Me? I should be asking you that.”
“I’m traumatized. Is my back still bleeding?” He turns
around for me to see.
Nzalo is heartless, these are some wide incisions. He
unnecessarily cut too deep. But I already know that
Thobile’s kids and razors don’t mix.
“No, you’re okay, you can put a shirt on,” I say.
He sighs with relief. “Can I have a cup too?”
“Yeah, sure.” I get the second cup ready.
I hear him walking away and jam to the music in my
head.
“Nalenhle,” his voice startles me.
Wasn’t he leaving?
I look at him. “I dance better when there’s actual music.”
He smiles, “You dance good either way. I just wanted to
compliment you, short hair really looks good on you.”
Ain’t he the sweetest?
“Thank you,” I say.
My hair is slowly growing back after shaving it off to
mourn for my mother. Maybe I should be a permanent
short hair girl since I’m getting compliments left, right
and center. I take his cup to him in his bedroom.
“Your coffee,” I yell at the door.
He opens the door in his shorts. “You didn’t have to, I
would’ve collected it, thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome, have a goodnight,” I say.
“You too,” he gets back inside and closes the door.
I sit in the kitchen and drink mine. I don’t want to go up
and down, I finish and rinse the cup then go back to the
bedroom.

Nzalo is already in bed. Was I gone for that long?

“I was getting a cup of coffee,” I say.
“And you didn’t make any for me?”
“I made a cup for Msindisi, he asked. I didn’t think you’d
want it too.”
“He did what?” He sits up, wearing a frown on his face.
“I didn’t mind,” I’m not sure why he looks angry.
“I don’t want him to ask you to do things for him. He can
make his own coffee.”
Yoh! If I knew I wouldn’t have mentioned it. I get the
robe off and get in bed.
“Are you still going to tell me the juicy gossip you
promised?” I ask.
“I said it’s a story, not gossip.” He takes a deep breath
and lies down again.
I’m not going to say no when Msindisi asks me to do
simple things for him. He’s a nice guy, why not?
“What’s the story?” I ask.
The flame dies down; he smiles. “Do you know why I
refused to use that thing today?”
“You’re scared of razors,” I say.
“I miss having sex with you and I was told not to have
sex after having muthi incisions. If I don’t get you tonight
I will die.” This not the story I prepared my ears for.
He’s weird but I’m smiling. This is romantic as fuck. A
man postponing practicing witchcraft to have sex with
you? No, I’m a lucky bitch.
“Uzongipha angithi namhlanje?” he asks.
I nod without a second thought. There’s something sexy
about how trained he is when it comes to self-control in
bed. We can share a bed for solid three days without
him trying anything. The only problem is that when he
wants sex, he wants SEX and he’s going to keep you
awake the whole night.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He nods, “Yes.”
“Do you see a future with me?”
“Yes, I do. Why are you asking?”
“I just want to know, a girl needs to be aware.”
“I love you and I want our relationship to blossom into
something beautiful. Once all the chaos is over you will
meet my mother’s family and I will meet yours.”
“In what way?” I ask.
“Maybe host dinner and invite both families,” he says.
“I’m from a village Nzalo, we don’t do boyfriend family
dinners. But I’m not saying scratch it out, my uncle might
agree.” It’s not a norm where I come from but I can
never say never.
“Ngiz’misele ngawe, kakhulu. It’s just our relationship is
juvenile. It’s like high school love and I like it that way.
Less pressure, more fun. I don’t want you to ever
change, ngik’thanda unje.” He plants a tender kiss on
my forehead.
I’m in love with this guy more than I realize.
“Let me lock the door,” he gets out of bed.
Closing it is not enough, he has to lock it. God protect
me!
He gets butt naked before joining me in bed again.
“Can we get these panties off?” he asks.
I lie like a slaughtered chicken as he takes it off. He
kisses my tummy and comes up to my lips. We kiss for a
good minute. I know this is going to be a long, good and
tiring night.
He sits on his legs and pulls my legs to him. My bones
just remind me how important it is to exercise my body.
He lowers his face to my pelvic region. I don’t know what
I expected but it was not this.
He eats my cookie up, I try to hold it in for the first few
minutes but as his tongue sweeps over my clit I let it out.
I scream his name and ask him to stop. Context;
continue and don’t stop. Then my mind switches off, my
body floats in the world of its own.
I snap back and I’m lying on my back. He’s on top of me
putting the condom on. I lift my leg, he settles and
smoothly slides in. His chest rests on me, our lips meet
in a steamy kiss before he slowly makes love to me.
There’s eye contact, random kisses, love confessions
and gentle strokes.
“The way you feel…it drives me crazy.” His eyes are
shut. His strokes gets more deeper. My nails may have
dug into his skin deeper.
He half-opens his eyes. “I want to stay inside your
pussy, baby please.”
I know what he means, I know what’s coming, except
that he will stay inside the condom. His eyes turn back,
his jaw tightens and he fills the room with deep groans.
“Fuuuuuck!” he pulls out and kisses my forehead.
We will need to change the bed after this.
He takes out the condom and cleans both of us. But we
are not done, I probably still have five sealed rounds. He
lies next to me, turns my face to him and kisses me.
“That was really good, ngiyabonga. Now you’re going to
take charge, right? I can’t wait to see you bouncing on
top of me.” He pecks my lips and stares into my
uncertain eyes.
Take charge? When did I ever took charge of anything in
life?
Knock????
My eyes widen.
“Put something on and check,” I say.
“It’s obviously Msindisi,” he sighs and gets up.
He doesn’t put anything on, I’m embarrassed in
advance.
He slightly opens the door, I can hear them.
“I’m trying to get some sleep,” Msindisi.
“Sorry ntwana, put on some music.” Really, that’s his
solution?
I can’t believe I’m that loud girlfriend who annoys
boyfriend’s family at night. How am I going to look at
Msindisi in the morning?
“Is she okay?” Msindisi asks.
Did I sound like I was dying?
“She’s fine,” that’s Nzalo’s response before closing the
door.
Can earth open up and swallow me?
“Do you see why I got my own place?” He pulls me out
of bed, onto his waist with my legs wrapped around him.
It’s at night, we are both naked and annoying. Why is he
taking me outside the backdoor.
Garage really?
.
.
.
**AT THE THABETHES**

It’s early in the morning, Khululiwe planned to talk to her

husband last night but he looked tired. He’s woken up to
make breakfast so that she can keep in the bedroom for
this conversation. Thami walks in, half dressed in his
school uniform. They have early classes in school
preparing for the final exams.
“There are people outside,” he says, looking a bit
freaked out.
“What people?” Khululiwe opens the kitchen window to
have a look.
Before she even gets it open, a man screams on top of
his voice reciting the Thabethe clan names.
“They’re wearing suits,” Thami says.
“Call your father,” she says.
This is confusing. These people are announcing
themselves as oHadebe. It can’t be Zola’s boyfriend’s
people, she said they broke up and she was clear that
this lobola negotiation is cancelled.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 60
ZOLA

I’m getting ready for work, my phone rings.

It’s my mother, I answer.
“What’s going on?” -this is the first thing she asks.
“With what? Is everything okay?” I’m confused.
“I thought lobola negotiations were cancelled. How come
the Hadebe delegate is here?”
Wait, hold on. What????
“Where are they?” I need to keep breathing.
“Outside, your father is asking me questions and I don’t
know what to say. Do we let them in?”
Xolani doesn’t see me. He has zero respect for me. I
broke up with him, that automatically cancelled the
negotiations.
“I didn’t agree to that, he didn’t say anything to me, we
broke up,” I say.
“Then what must I do? There are people outside, your
father is waiting for an answer.” She sounds frustrated, I
don’t blame her.
“Can I call him first?” I ask.
“Yes, please get back to me immediately.” She ends the
call.
What a bad way to start my week!

I call him, it rings unanswered for a minute.

“Makoti,” he answers.
“Why do you keep disrespecting me, Xolani? It’s okay
not to respect my feelings but taking it to my family is
another level.”
“I’m not disrespecting your family,” he says.
“You sent your people there unannounced, without even
informing me. Didn’t I tell you that I need a break?”
“It’s fine, you can take a break but I still need to honor
your father, ngifohlile esibayeni sakhe,” he says. This is
him trying to use culture against me.
“I wasn’t pure when we met so there’s no need,” I say.
“To me you were pure. Let them discuss how families
compensate each other, this has nothing to do with us,”
he says.
“I don’t think my family cares.” He wasn’t my first, there’s
no need for him to pay for any damage.
“Mine does, I also care. Regardless of what's happening
between us, I still respect your parents for how well they
raised you. The hymen may have been broken but it’s
not what defines purity for me. Your character and
manners define it, so please allow me to pay my dues.”
There’s an incoming call, it’s my mom.
I drop Xolani and answer her. “I’m sorting it out.”
“Your father is waiting,” she says impatiently.
“I will call Khanyisa and ask that she stands in for me, I
can’t come there, I’m going to work,” I say.
“Okay, hurry up.”
I can’t believe I’m in this mess. Khanyisa is the only girl
who’s in the village and closeby. I call her, it’s a last
minute request but I know she won’t let me down.
“Hello,” she answers.
“Hey, this is Zola. I need a huge favor from you.”
“What is it? I’m seeing a car outside your house.”
“That’s the reason I’m calling, can you please go there
and acknowledge those people on my behalf?”
“Uyacelwa Zola?” She’s shocked.
“It’s complicated,” I say.
“I don’t know what to wear, let me check my wardrobe
and ask my mom to look after the baby.”
“Thank you so much, I owe your baby some goodies.”
This is not how I wanted my Monday to turn out. I’m not
even doing this because I agree with Xolani, he
intentionally complicated a simple situation because he
wanted to have his way. I don’t want my dad to feel
disrespected, I could hear that he was putting pressure
on my mom for a decision.
I don’t know if I will be able to focus at work. My mind is
home, I’m wondering what’s happening. My mom hadn’t
prepared anything, I hope they at least have drinks to
offer. I will never forget this day in my life.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

I’ve been mad the whole morning, Nzalo promised that

he set the alarm. We both don’t know if the alarm rang
and we didn’t hear it, or it didn’t ring at all. I have missed
work, now I have to pay for a doctor’s note and lie to
MaKhoza. What’s driving me crazy is that as soon as we
woke up, Nzalo made calls to sort out his own work
issues and then left. So he kept me up all night and
failed to ensure that I wake up for work, then handled his
without a hustle.
I’m about to doze off on the couch, Msindisi comes with
a bottle of red wine and a glass. I love wine, he knows
that I prefer it over coffee and tea.
“I know you’re not having a good morning,” he says.
I sit up straight. “I’m okay, just a bit tired and annoyed.”
“I know. Must I pour?” He’s opening the bottle.
“Yes, please.” I don’t even know where he got it.
He pours a glass and then fetches a plate of hot wings
and chips. When did he put all this together? Wings and
wine will definitely put me in a good mood.
“You’re the sweetest person I know,” I say, tearing the
first wing apart.

He sits down and turns on the TV, keeping the volume

low.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
It’s funny how he always asks this whereas he’s the one
facing challenges at the moment.
“I’m good,” I say.
“I was worried about you last night.”
Can’t we pretend like it never happened? I’m
embarrassed.
He looks at me and chuckles. “Do you know what
everyone says?”
“No, I don’t,” I say.
“Immediately after they meet you they just say you
would’ve been perfect for me. Why do you think they say
that?”
MaMkhwanazi said that, she’s the only one I remember.
Isn't she delusional?
“Because we are almost the same age,” I say.
“It’s strange but I get it. Dating is so much easier when
you have similar social experiences and understanding
of life. Next time I’m having a girlfriend it will definitely be
someone of my age. I find it easy to talk to you and
relate to you than I do with anyone.”
It feels like I’m chewing soap right now. This
conversation makes me uncomfortable. I know him and I
are cool, maybe he thinks if we listened to what people
say we would be a good couple. But in reality, I’m a lot
to handle. Nzalo is perfect for me, even though
sometimes I hate his hard head. He can handle me.
“I want to be in love, I want to be loved,” he says.
“You are young, handsome and kind. Obviously you’re
going to find someone once you start looking,” I say.
“I don’t know if there will ever be a girl who understands
me.” He leans back on the couch and sighs heavily.
“If I can find someone who understands me, trust me
you can do it too.” I’m the most complicated person on
the planet but I found Nzalo. There’s always someone
for everyone.
“I hope so,” he says.
I finish eating, he takes the plate to the kitchen and
refills my glass. We are watching a boring movie, I don’t
even know the title.
.
.
.
I think the wine drained me, I wake up to Nzalo hovering
over me. He’s back from work, the TV is playing, there’s
a bottle of wine on the floor and Msindisi on the other
couch. He doesn’t say anything, he gives me his hand
and pulls me to the bedroom. We fought before he left
but now I feel better.
“I thought you will be back late,” I say.
“Mmmm.” He closes the door after us and unbuttons his
shirt.
“We have to talk about your drinking habits Nalenhle,”
he says.
“My drinking habits?” I’m confused.
Is he my uncle? And what drinking habits do I have
because I only drink when there’s alcohol.
“I don’t like the situation I just walk in to,” he says.
“Ok, I’m sorry.” I don’t want to fight again, I just want him
to cuddle me.
I can see the immediate apology ruffles his feathers, he
still wants to rant. I was drinking before him and he knew
it, I don’t know why it’s a problem now.
“Msindisi is going through a lot, sympathize with him but
don’t baby him. I don’t know when he started drinking.”
His tone carries subtle accusations.
“I didn’t tell Msindisi to drink, he bought that wine
himself,” I say.
“I’m not saying you did, I’m just asking you to remember
what you are in this family. You’re my girlfriend, not the
family girlfriend. That’s why I asked you not to make
anyone coffee and run errands that have nothing to do
with you and I.” Basically he wants me to pull back from
Msindisi at his vulnerable moments and I don’t
understand why.
“I hear you. Is there anything else?"
“I want to kiss you,” he says.
I got tipsy and fell asleep, I go to the bathroom and rinse
with mouthwash. Sometimes I’m too soft and
submissive. I come back to him sitting on the bed,
there’s a hard look on his face. I don’t know if I’m still
tipsy or what, I don’t see why he’s in his feelings.
“Sit on my lap,” he says.
I do as told, he locks a hard stare on me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I came back early because I wanted to at least spend
half of the day with you. But you just ruined it, I’m sad,”
he says.
“I’m sorry I made you sad. Can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” he wraps his arm around my waist.
I kiss him until his eyes soften. This is nothing but a big
baby mood.
“Have you spoken to Zola?” he asks.
“No, she’s at work,” I say.
“Mmmm, okay.” It sounds like there’s a reason behind
him asking that question but he won’t say it. “All I could
think of today was you, I hate it when we are not okay.”
“We are okay now,” I say.
“Do you promise not to insult me again?”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry, I was just frustrated.”
“Kiss?”
I smile and kiss him again.
.
.
.
ZOLA

They counted the cows, my mom said.

It’s not what Xolani said his people were going to do.
Once again I feel betrayed and lied to. I don’t know why
he’s so consistent in undermining my feelings. My heart
is heavy, I’ve been holding back tears the whole day. It’s
finally time to go home, I have never been in such a rush
to get home before. I just want to cry as much as I can.
I stand, waiting for a taxi.
A black SUV pulls up and I just know it’s either him or
one of his errand boys. The door opens, it’s him in flesh,
wearing a formal suit with a bouquet of roses in his
hand. I’m not in the mood to be the center of attention, I
need a taxi back seat next to the window, not this.
“Please don’t cry,” he wraps his arm around my
shoulders, hiding my face on his chest.
He takes me to the car, I’d love to resist but I’d be
subjected to more stares and whispers. I cry openly
once he closes the door. It’s not even about cheating
anymore, but the constant disrespect he gives me. My
feelings are not valued. My opinions don’t matter to him.
I don’t know how Nale picked this up, she told me from
the beginning that he’s controlling me and I defended
him.
“It breaks my heart when you’re crying like this. Every
relationship has its tests and challenges, I have learned
my lesson, something like this will never happen again.”
“How did you learn your lesson Xolani? You are not
even taking accountability. You said your people went to
my father to pay respect and they counted cows for
lobola there. How can you do that without my
permission?”
“Right now what is making you cry. The cows they
counted or the situation we already had?”
“The disrespect Xolani. If you treat me like this now, how
will our marriage look like? You will be doing as you
please and having your way, disregarding my feelings?”
“In my life right now nobody is important more than you.
I’m sorry you think I’m out to hurt you, I’d never do that
intentionally,” he says.
“Then what do you call what you’re doing?”
“Ngakha umuzi wami, I’m going to make mistakes along
the way. All I’m asking is that you lend me more
patience, there’s a space for me to grow.”
Grow???
I’m lost for words right now.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 61 (sponsored)
NALENHLE

I’m a bad cousin, aunt, future daughter-in-law and

roommate. I’m horrible to Zola from every angle of our
multi-defined relationship. I planned to come back
yesterday but Nzalo was needy. We work for different
lines, I didn’t see her at work. But she was at work and
she took a taxi home. I’m a few minutes behind her.
I walk in to her washing pots in the kitchen. The whole
Zola committing to domestic work on a Tuesday
afternoon!
“I bought you fruits,” I say.
I bought them out of guilt.
“Thanks,” her voice sounds hoarse, like all she’s been
doing for the past two days is crying. At this point she
needs alcohol.
“How are you doing?” I pull the chair and sit.
“I’m good,” she’s lying through her teeth.
“Have you guys spoken ever since?” I ask.
She sighs, “A lot has happened, Nale. I don’t even know
where to start. Maybe by telling you that lobola
negotiations started.”
“What? Without me?” I can’t believe this.
“I wasn’t there, neither was I informed. My mom called
when she saw people below the yard reciting our clan
names,” she says.
I can’t say I’m surprised, she didn’t teach him to take her
no’s.
“I hope you told aunt to chase them away with a bucket
of pee.”
“I was going to but Xolani said he only wanted to respect
my father because he’s slept with me anyway,” she
says.
“But you weren’t a virgin mos.”
“He said I was pure to him and insisted on me allowing
him to pay his dues. And guess what?”
“You said yes.” I know Zola, I have known her my whole
life.
“Yeah, and they negotiated lobola and took a list of my
father’s demands,” she says.
I hope she’s aware of what this means. There’s no
break-up because how can you plan narriage with
someone you’re broken up with.
“Have you said anything at home?” I ask.
“No, I could’ve prevented this from the beginning, I don’t
want to bother them,” she says.
“So you’re now officially engaged to a man who cheated
on you before you even heal?” I can’t believe this. I
knew Mr X took advantage of her love but this time I
thought he’d reflect and let her heal, on a pace that she
wants.
“I am,” she says with a heavy sigh.
“That’s fucked, I need to have a conversation with him.”
Someone needs to.put Mr X in his place. I know Zola
won’t, she doesn’t know how to punish that man. And he
knows that she has a soft spot for him. Is it even a soft
spot? I think it’s a whole soft yard.
“He knows you don’t like him, I don’t think he will agree
to see you,” she says.
“I know, that’s why you’re going to invite him for dinner
and send him location, then I will show up instead,” I
say.
“Hhaaa!” She’s angry at him but doesn’t want me to
have a chat with him.
Make this make sense!
“I will be nice,” I say.
“Okay,” she takes a deep breath and reaches for her
phone.
I have an internal memory card full of insults I haven’t
used this year.
She sends a message, he calls her immediately. Zola is
not a good actress but she tries. He keeps asking if
she’s sure, he already suspects something.
Mr X is Nzalo’s uncle, I would’ve respected him if he
didn’t get involved with my cousin and became a bad
daddy.
.
.
.
**AT THE THABETHES**

Khululiwe has not gotten a chance to sit down her

husband and tell him about what’s really going on in
their daughter’s life. He just got back from the council
meeting, she serves him a warm plate of food and
lemon juice. Then she sits on the chair opposite him.
Thabethe knows his wife, he can see that she wants to
say something. “Khuluma Mam’ Thabethe,” he says.
Khululiwe takes a deep breath. “I was on a call with
Nokuzola earlier and she’s not happy at all.”
“Why is she not happy?” he asks.
“Umkhwenyana wasn’t in agreement with her about
yesterday. It was damage control, she has broken up
with him. Apparently he slept with another woman, you
know how your daughter is ke,” she says.
“Mmmm, no comment. Your potatoes look good.” He
picks the spoon and digs in.
This is not the reaction Khululiwe expected.
“You’re not going to say anything Thabethe?” she asks.
“What do you want me to say? I said everything there
was to say, you told me to mind my own business and
said an older man is better for her. I didn’t know what I
was talking about, right?”
She drops her eyes, this man can really hold a grudge.
“I don’t think Nokuzola knows how to deal with things
like this. Maybe you should call her.”
“I’m not getting involved Khululiwe, this is a relationship
you advocated for and even granted them permission to
stay together against my word. Now she’s heartbroken,
as I said she would be, fix it.” He shifts his focus back to
his plate. His wife’s cooking remains the best.
Khululiwe sighs and gets off the chair. “I will collect my
washing from the line.”
Thabethe can be difficult for no reason. Why is he
blaming her for something she didn’t see coming? All
she’s ever wanted was for her daughter to be happy.

Thami is making his way home, coming from a soccer

practice. He sees his mother on the washing line and
turns to her. There’s something important he wants to
talk to her about.
“Ma,” he stands behind her.
Khululiwe turns, “When do you plan to study? This
soccer thing needs to end.”
“It was the last day. Can I ask you a favor?”
“Go ahead, you will ask anyway. I hope it’s not about
money because you know that I was owing stokvel this
month,” she says.
“I only need R150, please,” he says.
“R150? Imali engaka, what do you need it for?”
“It’s my girlfriend’s birthday, I want to buy her a gift.”
She almost drops the basket. A girl- what?
“You have a girlfriend?” She’s shocked.
“Ummmm, yeah.” He’s had one since Grade 10.
Khululiwe picks the basket and rushes to his father. He
has to know that Zola is not close to being child bringing
them relationship headache. This one here will shock
him.
“Thabethe, you won’t believe this!” she walks in.
Thami is behind her, confused. This is not the drama he
expected.
Thabethe looks up, “Don’t tell me they lost again.”
“No Thabethe, he’s dating,” Khululiwe says.
A smile pulls from the corners of his lips. “How is she?”
he asks.
Thami shrugs, “She’s okay.”
Khululiwe looks at her husband gobsmacked. So he
knew about this all this time!
“I just need a little financial help, her birthday is coming
up,” Thami says.
“Oh, no problem. I will give it to you in the morning, you
will pay me back when you start working.” He looks
happy to hear his teenage son talking about his
girlfriend. This energy is never given to Zola, at her big
age.
“Don’t worry baba, I will add interest,” Thami smiles and
walks out, looking happy and relieved.
“Really Thabethe? You’re angry that I supported
Nokuzola’s relationship while you are sponsoring an
underage relationship.” She’s in disbelief.
Thabethe smiles, “Thamsanqa is the future of the
Thabethes. At least we know he will bring us a wife one
day and give us grandkids.”
.
.
.

NALENHLE

I got here first, got us a table and ordered myself a

cocktail. It’s almost finished, I don’t know if he’s late or
I’m drinking too fast. I’m looking at the menu again,
maybe I can get something light while waiting.
I lift my eyes to look for the waiter, there he is. He’s
walking in, searching for Zola with his eyes. I raise my
hand, his eyes land on me. There’s a slight frown on his
face as he makes his way to me. I have table manners, I
get up and pull the chair for him.
“Where is Nokuzola?” he asks.
“Home, it’s me you’re having dinner with.” I know he
wishes he could’ve stayed home but fikile-fikile.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I’m being nice as I
promised.
“No, thank you.” He has trust issues.
I order one more for myself and shift my focus back to
him. Let me take him out of his misery.
“I knew you wouldn’t come if you knew it was me who
wanted to meet up, so I asked Zola to text you instead,”
I say.
“I already know what you want to say, Nalenhle. You
have waited your whole life for a chance to insult me to
my face, not behind my back like you always do.” He
thinks he’s ready, but trust me he’s not.
“Zola expected more from you, I didn’t.” I’m bored, I
studied his character and noticed everything that Zola
overlooked. “You are old…”
“Nzalo will be 40 when you’re 31, but go off!”
“I wasn’t age shaming you.” I definitely was, my situation
with Nzalo is different though. “I’m mentioning the
obvious. You’re old, you have multiple businesses that
you run and you’ve never been married. I have always
known that uwukhandalimtshel’okwakhe.”
“Is it?” He chuckles.
“Yeah, that’s why you were lonely before her. Your peers
couldn’t stand you, so you went for someone much
younger.” I doubt he would’ve pulled these stunts on
Robyn.
“That’s not true but continue,” he says.
I can see that I’m starting to get on his nerves.
“You’re a manipulator and abuser,” I specify.
“I have never abused Nokuzola,” he says.
“Yes, you did. You’re a child abuser, I don’t care how
many gifts and money you give her. You just hide your
true character by being romantic. With all the money you
have, you’re still the worst boyfriend Zola has ever had.
Sandile was better than you.” I picked that name from
my head. I don’t remember Zola’s few ex-boyfriends’
names.
“Is this what you called me here for?” He’s mad.
“Nope. I wanted to tell you that I’m going home this
coming weekend and I will be having a meeting with my
uncle, telling him everything about you. You’re not
having your way this time, go back to your side-chick. I
don’t even know if she’s a side-chick or side-hen at that
age.” I need to take it easy on the cocktails, I don’t want
to get drunk two days in a row.
“What is your problem with me, Nalenhle? I know this is
just a chance you are using to ruin my relationship,
which is something you’ve always wanted. My age is
just an excuse, what is the real reason behind your
hatred?”
“I don’t hate you, I hate the things you do to Zola. You’re
right, I will destroy your relationship and the good thing
is that Zola won’t hate me for it this time. I want you to
forever be an old, lonely man that scams people’s
money with a casino.”
“What will you achieve from that?” he asks.
“Joy. I will be happy to see my cousin with someone who
respects her and stays loyal to her. Not you, you’re a
deceitful senior citizen that takes advantage,” I say.
He’s silent for a minute. I’ve been nice, I didn't insult him
in any way.
“I love Nokuzola, whether you like that and believe it or
not. I’m not going to back off, I will build our future and
make sure that our baby arrives to a healthy home.”
“What baby?” I’m confused.
Are they adopting?
“I have to go. Did you forget anything?”
“Yes,” I say.
He raises his eyebrow.
“We will pay you back all the money you’ve spent on
her. Zola is not your charity case, go and find someone
to be a blesser to. Daddy with no sugar!” He’s not even
all that, I know good-looking men who make it to
magazine covers. Where has his face ever appeared?
Local newspapers.
My phone beeps. It’s YouTube Music taking the last R50
that I had.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 62
ZOLA

I just got off a ten minutes long phone call with him. No, I
wasn’t receiving an apology, he was venting about his
own dissatisfaction. I knew Nale was going to disrespect
him, she wasn’t going to let this chance pass her by. So
with that, I have allowed my cousin to disrespect him
publicly. I shouldn’t have involved a third part in our
business, his relationship with Nale has never been
good because I don’t set boundaries.

I cannot count how many times Nale and I have had

disagreements because of me. His expectations of me
are obviously getting higher and higher. I have received
a lot from him, physically and financially. But in return
I’ve had to co-exist with his past, doubt myself as a
woman, accept his past as it fully took over his life, put
up with a rude daughter, be cheated on and
disrespected over and over again. And this is the same
man who vowed to move mountains for me. It looks like
he’s the mountain now, I’m going to need him to move.
Nale walks in, swaying her hips unbothered.
“What did you? I had a ten minutes long telephone case
over you,” I ask.
She frowns, “With who?”
“Xolani,” I say.
“I didn’t say anything he doesn’t know, if he’s offended
maybe it’s because nobody is ever brave enough to tell
him the truth.” Nale will never say she’s wrong anyway,
but on this one I really don’t care, he deserved it.
She unhooks her side bag and sits. “I almost washed
dishes, I didn’t have money to pay for my bill. I had to
call Nzalo and ask for help. Imagine!”
It’s been what? Almost half a year, but Nale hasn’t
embraced the type of person Nzalo is. He is nothing
close to what his uncle is like, probably the best thing
she should thank God for. At least Nzalo is genuine, he
is who he says he is. When they fight, he sits down and
reflects. He doesn’t manipulate his way around the truth.
“We have to talk, beloved niece,” she says.
I don’t know when and how she switches her roles. I’m
never warned, I just hear it from her when I’m the cousin
and when I’m a niece.
“Did you use condom with Mr X?”
I didn’t expect such question.
“Yeah, most of the times,” I say.
“Most? What happened some other times?” She’s really
stressing me with this question.
“I thought I was the only one, so I let him feel flesh now
and then. I didn’t want to bore him, you know how men
are.” Gosh, I sound so stupid.
“Did you clean out the little bustards in the morning?”
That isn’t worded nicely. “Morning after pills?”
“Yes,” she nods.
“I didn’t and nothing has happened.” It wasn’t everyday, I
know that sounds dumb biologically, but religiously my
faith was too strong.
“He believes that you’re pregnant. He said he went
home to discuss lobola because he’s building his family
and wants the baby to arrive to a proper home.”
My hand drops to my tummy; I’m flat as Nale’s bank
account. Is Xolani mad? Why would he assume
something like that? And not talk to me about it first.
“He didn’t accept any of his mistakes, he has a reason
for everything,” she says.
“I’m not surprised. Did you ask him why he thinks I’m
pregnant?” I’m worried.
“Obviously because you’ve been letting hit it raw. What if
he’s HIV positive?” Typical Nale, everything has to be
dramatic now.
“I know his status. I just don’t know mine, pregnancy-
wise,” I say.
“You better pray this pregnancy test comes back
negative.” She pulls it out of her bag unexpectedly.
“You bought a pregnancy test?” I’m shocked.
It feels like everyone knows what’s happening with my
life except me. I’m not in charge, everyone is. I’m an
extra in my own movie.
“We have to know, if you’re pregnant your whole life
changes. When were your last periods?” She passes the
white tube to me. I’ve never been freaked by something
so little.
Oh, my periods.
“Last month,” I say.
“Last month, when?”
“On my usual date.” Can she stop interrogating me?
Nale is nobody’s nurse.
“I’m not taking a pregnancy test,” I say.
“Why not? The sooner we know, the better.”
“I’m scared.” I had unprotected sex, not once, not twice.
But a bunch of times, it just didn’t feel like that because
it wasn’t straight up unprotected sex, it would one round
as a treat within a night.
“Trust me, the sooner we know, the better. But if you
want, we’ll both take tests.” She pulls another one and
stands up.
There’s no need for her to take one, it’s just moral
support. We take turns in the bathroom, this is the
scariest test I’ve ever had to take. I take a walk in the
passage to ease the nerves, Nale is glaring at the tests
impatiently.
My phone rings, this is not the name I want to see right
now. My dad!
“Hello baba,” I answer.
“Are you well?” he asks.
“Yes,” I’m evidently shaken.
“Come home tomorrow, Nzuza will fetch you.”
“Nzuza with his old bakkie? No, I will take taxis.”
“I have already paid him,” he says.
“Okay,” I know he won’t change his mind. “Can I ask
what it’s about?”
“I haven’t seen you since you sent Khanyisa to accept a
proposal on your behalf. That’s not how things are done,
we need to talk,” he says.
“Oh, okay.” This just scares me.
My dad wouldn’t just hire Nzuza’s rusty bakkie for
nothing. I could call my mom to find out but Nale is
looking at me some type of way.
“Has it shown?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says.
I walk over, my hands are trembling. I pick mine up and
recite a silent prayer before looking at it.
Jesus Christ!
.
.
.
XOLANI HADEBE

Nzalo called him over because Msindisi refuses to use

the concoction that was given by a healer. It’s the only
thing that can help him with his manhood problems but
he’s “turned off” by how it smells. Msindisi is not a kid,
he doesn’t need to deal with this childishness on top of
everything that’s happening in his life right now.
“This thing smells like dead rat, we have to find other
alternatives,” Msindisi complains.
Nzalo looks at their uncle- this is exactly what he was
talking about.
“I spent R950 on this bottle,” Xolani says.
“I will refund you,” Msindisi.
“And then never get involved with a girl again? Look
mfana, I know you’ve been living under Phindile’s skirt
but now it’s time to wake up. We are all men here,
there’s no woman, Nokuzola has also left me and
Nzalo’s girlfriend has loose screws in her head, nobody
has time to coddle you.”
Nzalo sighs, mockingly. Why is he catching stray
bullets?
“Just think of the girl of your dreams, someone you have
a huge crush on, and then tell yourself that you’re doing
this for her,” he says.
Msindisi takes a deep breath, staring into space for a
second. He can only think of one person. He grimaces
as he pours the bitter concoction in in a glass, taking
one large gulp.
“Wasting time like you’re not the one who needs help,”
Xolani mumbles as he turns to the fridge looking for
something to drink. Msindisi walks away, this was a
dramatic morning because of him but the last thing he
wants is annoying people. MaMkhwanazi treated him
like a baby, he’s used to that life of demanding and
complaining. Somehow he has to adjust because he’s a
grown up, Nzalo has his own life and so does Xolani
whom he’s not even close with.
He lies on his back, unlocking his phone and going
through his Whatsapp. There’s a message from a
number he doesn’t know. When he opens it’s just a
picture of white lilies. What do they stand for and who is
this?
Google says they symbolize purity and rebirth. These
flowers can be for weddings and funerals. Which one do
they represent at this specific moment? His enquiring
text only ticks one, clearly the person who sent this has
logged out. Nothing is ever nothing in his life, that has
been proven a number of times. He cannot relax until
this person explains why the white lilies and who is he or
she.
.
.
.
Xolani is driving home, all he’s thinking about is how fast
his life turned upside down. This time he has nobody to
blame, he could’ve stopped his sexual adventures with
Robyn a long time ago. That fling didn’t benefit him with
anything. There’s nothing that Robyn offered him that he
wasn’t getting from Zola. He could’ve prioritized what
was important but he failed.
He parks outside to collect himself before walking in to
his daughter. He wants to call Winnie and arrange that
she makes time to visit Onathi. She’s been well
behaved, his house is no longer filled with tension and
angry screams. It would’ve been worth a celebration if
Zola was going to be there as well.
Speaking about Zola, “my wife” flashes on the screen as
his phone rings. They spoke yesterday and their
conversation didn’t end well.
“Hello,” he answers.
It’s not how he usually answer her calls but she could
care less.
“Xolani, why did you say I’m pregnant to Nale?”
“I didn’t say that,” he calmly says.
“You did, Nale NEVER lies. I just wanna tell you this, I’m
not having your baby. You’re not going to control what
happens with my body,” she says.
“I don’t want to fight. I didn’t say it’s something that has
already happened, I was speaking in future tense. It’s
not something I haven’t talked to you about.” He’s
always told her that he wants them to have a family. His
intentions were clear from the first day.
“I’m talking in present tense, I’m not having a baby,” Zola
says.
“What do you mean?” He’s confused.
“I took a pregnancy test after you made an
announcement in a restaurant. This is not what we
agreed on and I will be terminating the baby.”
No.
Zola is just fooling around.
“You’re pregnant?” he asks.
“It will be “was” on Thursday, I have already made a
booking to have the thing removed. What do you think I
am, Xolani? An object you can use to make your dreams
come true, something with no feelings and right to make
its own decisions?”
“Can we talk? Where are you right now?” He knows that
she’s frustrated because he hasn’t been the best partner
this week. He’s done many things that made her angry,
in attempt to save their marriage. None of it was
malicious or intended on destroying her.
“I’m on my way home,” Zola says.
“Home?” It feels like his head is spinning around.
This is the first time he’s ever received such news in 43
years of his life.
“Yes, I’m going to my parents. I just wanted to let you
know, I will send you the address on Thursday and you
can go and collect the blood for burial.” Zola is not cruel
but hearing her say these words make him wonder if he
hasn’t been sleeping with the devil.
“Bye Xolani,” she drops the call.
His hands tremble as he tries calling her back. She
doesn’t answer his calls. After the 35th attempt he
throws in the towel. Hot wave flushes down his face,
there’s physical pain on his chest like he’s about to have
a heart attack. His lungs close off, he’s struggling to
breathe.
Onathi bangs the window, asking him to roll it down. It’s
not like him to sit in the car for so long. The doors
unlock, Onathi opens the driver’s door and sees her dad
in a shocking state.
“You’re trembling, are you okay?” She can see his
hands trembling.
No response.
“Dad!”
“I’m…I’m fine, Onathi.”
“Do I need to call the police?”
“I’m fine. I just had…no, I’m fine.” This used to happen
when he was a little boy and scared. Why would Zola
take him back there?
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 63
ZOLA
Life in the village is harmonious and simple. That’s until
something scandalous happens, then everyone will be in
people’s business like they get paid for it. Tell me why
MaDladla needs one cup of sugar today out of all days.
Fine, she’s gotten it. Now tell me why she’s not leaving
but looking at me instead. She’s seen me before, there’s
nothing new on my face.
“I saw you arriving in Nzuza’s bakkie, did your car break
down?” she asks.
This is probably the latest tea, she was just the only one
brave enough to come and ask.
“No,” I say.
“Oh, what happened to it?”
My mom clears her throat, “You can go, MaDladla.”
“I was just asking, makhi. Hopefully your car gets fixed
soon, we have been bragging to our friends that our
neighbor’s daughter bought a car.” She smiles, satisfied
to the core of her gossip-collecting being.
My mom sighs. “You will be subjected to a lot of
gossips.”
“I don’t care,” I say.
Gossip cannot break me. I won’t be the first girl to have
a failed relationship and I won’t be the last. Xolani didn’t
take the car, I returned it back myself, but I’m not going
to explain myself to people.
I haven’t seen my dad but from his wife’s update, he’s
mad at me. He’s not a greedy person, I don’t remember
him putting me under pressure to get a husband, not
even once. If it was up to him, I don’t even think he’d let
me have a husband unless he chooses him for me. So
I’m confused why he’d be mad at me for breaking up
with Xolani.
My mom looks at me gobbling down a four sliced
sandwich. “Are you pregnant?”
“No,” I say.
“Good,” she sighs with relief.
I’m not really pregnant, the test showed me one line. But
Xolani is under the impression that he made me
pregnant, so I used that to give him a pinch of
heartache. I know he’s losing his mind wherever he is, I
have over 50 missed calls from him.
“Are you using contraceptives?” mom asks.
I’m too grown for this conversation.
“Not currently but I know my days,” I say.
“So people who use contraceptives don’t know their
days? Zola, you need to start making better decisions
when it comes to your love life.” Here comes a lecture!
She goes on for almost ten minutes coaching me about
life and relationship. I’m not really listening and taking in
anything she says.
“Your brother has a girlfriend,” she says.
Now this is the kind of conversations I’m interested in. I
look up immediately.
“How old is she?” I’m not that surprised, he’s a teenager.
“I don’t even care, your dad has been giving him money
to go and spoil her. Can you believe it?”
“Believe what?” says the voice at the door.
I stand up as he walks in, looking at my mom curiously.
“Oh, the conversation ends because I’m walking in,” he
chuckles. He knows that we were gossiping about him.
“Hello,” he says.
“Hi,” I’m a bit scared because I don’t know why I’m here.
“Can I make you something to eat?” mom asks.
“Not yet, I will have a chat with your princess first.”
My heart starts racing. But he’s my dad, what worse
could happen? I finish my drink and then follow him to
the sitting room. He’s coming from the grazing field with
his sheep.
.
.
.
I sit, he’s fixing his old wrist watch for a minute, not
attending to me.
Then he looks up. “How is it going?”
“I’m good,” I say.
“You had a good ride home?”
I roll my eyes, “A bakkie, Thabethe?”
He chuckles.
He’s actually not mad as I thought.
“Your mom told me that you’re not in a good space,
following the visit from the Hadebes. She says you didn’t
want them here. Is that true?”
I nod, “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say so? Why give the green light to
create a relationship between the two families knowing
very well that you no longer see a future there?”
I know this sounds stupid but I was blindsided. “Xolani
said he just wants to honor you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with what he did. That’s how
men from my generation act. You’re in your 20s and
seeing someone with a different mindset from you. How
is that going to work?”
“But he cheated, dad. I’m sure that has never been right
from any generation,” I say.
“Yes, but he re-wrote his wrongs by making a choice
and that choice was him choosing you the right way,” he
says.
“Are you defending him?” I’m in disbelief right now.
“The problem with you is that you don’t listen to
understand. You’re my child, I know you. I knew that you
weren’t going to handle everything that comes with
being with a man old like me. You’ve seen your mother
threatening to leave me and you still think you can
handle being with someone of my age.”
“But that’s not the same. You don’t cheat and there’s a
status difference.” I don’t mean this offensively, it’s just
two different situations.
“Okay, clearly there’s nothing I’m going to say that
you’re not going to argue. What’s the way forward?”
“In relation to what?” I ask.
“Your relationship. Do I consider you taken or not?”
“Not taken,” I say.
“Alright,” he says.
I cannot tell his emotions right now. I can’t even tell
whether he’s supporting me or not in this situation.
“I don’t want you to ever make such a terrible decision,
as soon as you know what you want communicate your
feelings. Don’t make us proceed with something you no
longer want, even if it’s the last second,” he says.
“I apologize for that.” I guess I could’ve just said no
regardless of how Xolani explained it.
I leave to tell mom that she can prepare his food. I’m
feeling relieved and happy that this has been cleared at
home.
Xolani can call me with different office numbers, at this
point I don’t care about his feelings. I will let him suffer
until Thursday.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I’m not usually lazy to cook but today I am. I want

McDonald’s double cheese burger and I have a man
who asked me to date him unprovoked. I have learned
that he only offers if he’s being asked, so I send a text
asking him to bring me some food. Zola went home,
probably to talk about what is happening between her
and Mr X. I know my uncle, he won’t force her to go
ahead with the relationship.
But I won’t lie, I miss Mr X’s car and random food
deliveries. They don’t make them like him anymore.
Wait, does this mean we have to pay our own rent this
month? I have a Shein cart to clear. Jesus Christ, we are
going back to poverty!

I take a bath, Nzalo arrives as I’m dressing up. He waits

for me in the kitchen, busy on his phone. I pop out my
cleavage and wear a shorter skirt to tempt him into
staying. I don’t want to sleep alone with that dark man
outside watching over me throughout the night. It’s crazy
how life just got complicated.
“Hey babe,” I kiss his cheek.
There’s something about a man in a black poloneck and
jeans. It’s giving “good in bed” vibes, especially when he
tops it off with smelling good.
“Nale, we need to talk,” he says.
“Now? Before I eat both this burger and you?” God, I
need to up my flirting skills.
He laughs, “I’m serious, there’s something I don’t like.”
Hopefully my appetite survives this. “What is it?”
“I talked to my uncle,” he says.
I already know where this is going.
“That’s my father’s brother, Nalenhle. If our dreams
come true he will be the grandfather of your kids. I don’t
understand why you disrespect him.”
“Okay. Did he tell you what he did?” Let’s just start there.
“Who he sleeps with is none of your business. It’s very
disrespectful for you to summon my uncle into a
restaurant meeting and publicly disrespect him. I don’t
care what he did, even I have never done that.”
“What do you mean it’s none of my business while he’s
hurting my cousin?” Ey, this guy mustn’t piss me off.
“Let Zola handle it. Have you ever seen Zola
disrespecting me because of what’s happening in our
relationship? No, she always listens to both sides and
stays neutral,” he says.
“I’m not Zola,” I say.
“That’s very clear, trust me. But I mean it, don’t ever
disrespect my uncle again. When you and I got together
you already knew that he was my uncle and seeing
Zola. There’s no need for you to treat him like that, he’s
my family. I will never disrespect nobody from your
family, even a family cat.” He’s very serious.
I don’t know if Mr X sent him or this is coming from his
head. I’m disappointed in him. This just shows that he’s
on Mr X’s side.
We shouldn’t have dated uncle and nephew, it’s a recipe
of drama and disaster.
“You can eat, that’s all I wanted to get off my chest,” he
says.
“No, I’m good, I don’t need your food.” I’m not eating his
food, bought with the Hadebe money after him and his
uncle had a reunion meeting to discuss me.
“Okay then,” he pulls the take-away bag and opens it.
What the hell is he doing? He tears the ketchup sachet
and sprinkles it over my chips and eats them. I watch
him finish my burger in three minutes and manage to
keep a straight face. This pisses me off, I said I don’t
need his food, I didn’t say I’m not going to eat it.
He stands up and drinks water from the sink. It’s official,
I hate him.
“I’m going get Msindisi shisanyama take-away. You take
care of yourself and not remove anything from your
door. Okay?”
I don’t respond to stupid people, that’s just how I am.
“I love you, don’t forget that my uncle is off limits,” he
says.
I walk after him and close the door. I inspect it trying to
see what I’m not allowed to remove but I’m not seeing
anything.

I’m calling my own uncle right now.

It rings for a minute before he answers.
“Malume,” I cry to grab his attention.
“Nale, is everything okay? You’re making me panic.”
“I’m upset because of Nzalo,” I say and hear a sigh.
“At this point I think you should keep your boy problems
to yourself. Other than that, my advice will cost a fee so
that even if you don’t take it, you will lose money.”
“I also have money problems. He just ate my food and
left me hungry. Who does that?” I know he no longer
wants to hear about my relationships. “Here is the worse
part, we are arguing because of his uncle, Xolani.”
“I’m not interested, Nalenhle. But I will tell your aunt to
send a quick recipe for something you can cook easily
and eat,” he says.
“That’s not what I was going for.” I thought he’d be angry
with me. It would’ve been each with his and her own
uncle as back-up.
“Zola is coming back tomorrow, you will talk to her.” He
drops the call.
Old people and attitude!
What do I eat now? Cabbage leftovers.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 64

He invited Winnie over, even though Onathi has warmed

up to him and started calling him dad on rare occasions.
Winnie is the mother she recognizes, meaning at some
point he will have to develop a healthy relationship with
her. But before that, he has to introduce her to the most
important people. Nzalo and Msindisi. They’ve met
before but it wasn’t under great circumstances.
Hopefully today they will all start afresh, then when
Winnie comes over Nzalo and Msindisi will be present
too. It’s time they start embracing each other as a family.

He's in the study, swinging on his leather chair. It hasn’t

been an easy week for him but he has to keep a face
because now he’s a father. Onathi knocks outside the
door. A habit she’s taken a long time to learn; knocking.
“Come in,” Xolani says after taking a deep breath.
She walks in, “Are you okay?”
He’s been here for the past hour, alone.
“I’m okay,” he says.
“You’re acting like a brat lately. I brought you a snack.”
She takes a bar of chocolate out of his jacket that she’s
wearing.
A smile slips out. “Thanks, this is truly a snack.”
Onathi sits on the desk and looks at him with concern.
“Is she still not answering?” she asks.
“No, but you and I should be getting ready for your
cousins.” He pushes back the chair and stands up. He
wants them to be close but he’s mindful of how deep he
wants her in his romantic relationship.
“I’m not looking forward to it.” Her impression about her
cousins remains the same. She has one picture of Nzalo
in her head; just a heartless man with no conscience. He
tortured her mother, Winnie, and threatened to kill her.
“Be nice and open, you will see them differently,” Xolani
says.
“You also haven’t been liking them for years, that
speaks volumes.” She gets off the desk and takes the
chocolate that Xolani is leaving behind. So ungrateful!
They’re not doing much, everything has been prepared
for them.
.
.
.

They arrive together, Onathi restricts her movements

and sits. Her trust is scanty when it comes to them.
There’s still an unresolved murder case that involves her
parents, the ones who raised her. Nzalo is the first in,
Onathi avoids eye contact. This man still creeps her out.
She asks herself everyday how things would’ve ended if
she wasn’t a Hadebe by blood.
“Hello,” he says.
“Hi,” she picks her juice.
Sometimes she comes across as full of pride and
attitude. Ok, a lot of times. But it doesn’t mean that’s
who she is. Under all the beautiful clothes and weaves
she fancies, she’s still just a child with big dreams and
an extravagant, complicated childhood.
“Unjani?” Nzalo asks, despite her obvious discomfort.
“I’m okay,” she says.
“I heard you took a break from your studies. How do you
like being home everyday?” He also doesn’t know how
to drive this conversation but the ice has to be broken.
“Not bad,” Onathi says and glances at her dad who’s
listening to the awkward conversation.
“I will take you to Lwethu’s fun spot during the
weekend,” he says.
She knows about the sister but from what she’s
gathered, they are nothing alike. Lwethu’s fun spot
wouldn’t be her taste, just like going out with Nzalo, the
terrorist.
“Can we chat for a second?” he asks Xolani.
They’re always talking, he comes here a lot and they
have their late calls. They leave Onathi alone on the
table.
This whole thing puts her in the middle of the chaos.
Both are her families. As unlikely as it may have looked
at first, Xolani is the dad she wished Musa was. Not just
because he has freedom and money, he’s very present
and caring. She may not care for the whole Hadebe clan
but Xolani is her biological dad. On the other hand,
Winnie is a mother in her heart. Yes, there’s distance
now but that’s the only woman she knows as a mother
and she knows how much she loves Musa. So now her
real dad’s family is against her real mother’s family and
she’s not even sure where her loyalties lie.
“Where is everyone?”
It’s the other one, this one downright hated her from the
first day.
She doesn’t respond, she’s on her phone.
Msindisi stares at her and sighs.
“Hello Onathi, how are you?”
He can be nice???
She looks up, “I’m fine, thank you.”
“So where is your dad and Nzalo?” He doesn’t like her
dad either, so she doesn’t care that much.
“Gossiping somewhere,” she says.
“Oh well, good for them.” He’s seen bowls of food and
that’s the only highlight of the day so far. Nzalo buys
takeaways everyday. They can cook but there’s no
motivation without proper grocery in the house.
“Who cooked? You?”
Onathi frowns. “No. Do I look like a cook?”
“No, you look like your mother,” he says.
There’s a bitter after tone. This explains why they don’t
like her. She’s paying for the sins of a woman she barely
saw throughout her childhood and only knew as an aunt.
“I don’t know her,” she says.
For the first time she’s visibly hurting.
Msindisi is too busy filling his plate to notice. “Would you
like me to tell you the good or bad side of her?" he asks.
She’s confused. This conversation is flowing, he doesn’t
seem to have a problem with her. Did she imagine the
whole thing?
“The good side, I’m tired of bad news,” she says.
Msindisi takes a bite of his steak, obviously he’s a
foodie. “This is good, just like her Sunday meals. She
was a good cook. And a very active church goer, owning
all different versions of the Bible.”
“So you grew up religiously?” Onathi asks.
“We didn’t go to church, there was no house rule set, but
yeah, she introduced us to God.” He chuckles and
swallows down mashed potatoes, but doesn’t share the
joke.
“Is that all?” Onathi asks.
“Ummmm, she was a mother every child envied. She’d
nail a good stepmother role on a film,” he says. It
sounds like a compliment but it’s not.
“Is she dead?” Onathi asks.
He almost drops his knife. Xolani didn’t tell them how to
address MaMkhwanazi. Whether in the past or present
form.
“No, I’m saying “was” because our relationship is the
thing of the past,” he says.
“Oh!” Onathi raises her glass, staring at him.
“So, do you want to meet her and have a relationship
with her?”
“I’m not sure what I want,” she says.
“Okay, enough about the family talk. How are you after
the sudden change?”
“I think I’m getting there, it will take me a while but I’m
grateful to be alive and still rich,” she says.
Msindisi laughs, “You are what? Rich?”
“If my dad is then I’m rich,” she says.
“Then I’m honored to be sharing a table with you. Zinjani
izingane eRes?”
“They’re not single,” she says.
“All of them?” He’s just playing around, not that he plans
to hook up with college students.
“Those who are single are looking for blessers. Do you
want to be a blesser?” Onathi.
“That’s not my department,” he says.
Xolani and Nzalo make their way back and find the
conversation flowing at the table. Onathi is giggling,
which is very rare when there’s a guest.
“I hope you didn’t eat everything,” Nzalo says to
Msindisi.
Their uncle laughs, for once this week has a positive
highlight. His brother’s sons are here with his daughter,
all having dinner and getting along. Only if Nokuzola
was here, his heart would’ve been complete.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I ignored my alarm and decided to use my head to wake

up. And here I am, out of time and trying to get ready
within five minutes and answering the door at the same
time. I thought it was a neighbor or someone selling, not
Mr X.
Is he lost?
“Hi Nale,” he says.
“Hi, good morning.” I’m so confused.
What is happening?
“Zola is still home,” I say.
“I wanted to see you, not her.” He walks in.
I look at his waist, he doesn’t look armed, so I follow in.
It’s a mess but I wasn’t expecting anyone to pop up so
early in the morning. I can’t think of a single thing Mr X
would want to talk to me about.
“How are you?” he asks.
This keeps getting weird. Didn’t he send Nzalo to attack
me yesterday?
“I’m fabulous, as always,” I say.
He looks at me, particularly my two different flip-flops. I
couldn’t find their matches so I made them a pair. That
doesn’t make me less fabulous though.
“I’m running late,” I want him to say why he’s here and
leave.
“I won’t keep you for long,” he says and then takes a
deep breath.
Wait a minute, why does he look so humble? I hope he
doesn’t think I’m going to rescue him.
“I want to apologize,” he says.
“For what?” I’m lost.
“I’m not sure what it is but I know it might have
something to do with me leaving you in that funeral
mess. Whatever it is, I’m sorry. I don’t want us to be
enemies, you’re the only person I can talk to when
Nokuzola closes the door.”
I was right, he’s humbling himself because he wants me
on his side.
“I thought she broke up with you,” I say.
“I’m not giving up on my relationships, Nalenhle.”
There’s something in the way he says that, with a solid
look on his face and no hesitation. “Nokuzola will come
back to me, I just need to approach things differently
and show her how sorry I am about the pain I’ve caused
her.”
“Sounds like inganekwane. How do you plan to do that?”
I ask.
“I don’t know, I will figure it out. All I ask is that you don’t
stand against me.” He really thinks I hate his guts and
work against their relationship.
“I didn’t want you guys to break up. I have defended you
many times and given her good advices on how to
approach things. Yes, I’m not very fond of you but I saw
how good you were at times.” I can’t believe I’m giving
his cheating ass accolades. “But this time you fucked
up. And that’s not even what made her angry. It’s how
many times you denied it and made it look like she was
insecure and childish, only to find out that you were
doing what she accused you of doing.”
“I get it,” he says.
“Good, then start showing her that you understand why
she’s feeling the way she feels and let her do what she
wants to do. Listen, respect and support her decisions.
That’s all.”
“Support that she wants to abort my baby and leave
me?”
I control myself and not laugh. He looks so hurt by the
abortion part. “Yes, support her and let her deal with the
pain however she wants. Maybe once she sees that
you’re remorseful and no longer the “mature guy” who
wants to control where and how the relationship goes,
she will give you another chance.”
“You don’t have to call me the mature guy, I know all the
names you call me,” he says.
Zola is such a loose mouth. What other names do I call
him except Mr X or Bab' Xolani?
“Have you spoken to her?” I ask.
“No, she’s not answering my calls,” he says with a heavy
sigh.
“I can give you my friend’s number, he will connect you
to her," I say.
“I’d appreciate that,” he says.
I repeat, I’ve never seen him this humble.
I scroll down to my uncle’s number and call it out while
he saves it on his phone. I didn’t wake up for peace, I
want drama and a lift to work.
Let me hurry up and fix my lunch while he makes the
call.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 65
ZOLA
I’m helping Thami with the assignment he forgot to finish
yesterday. He woke me up from my comfortable bed to
do it for him while he bathes and irons his uniform. I
can’t believe such an irresponsible boy has a girlfriend.
But that’s none of my business, as long as he uses the
condom.
Dad is boiling some medicine on the stove, he says it’s
for inyongo. But after the noise I heard last night I
wouldn’t be surprised if it’s for something else. My poor
mother!

His phone rings, he gets on his feet to answer. My dad is

old school, he puts his calls on loudspeaker and talks
loud. I’m focused on the assignment until I hear the
voice asking if I’m around. I know that voice, I’d know it
even when waking up from a deep sleep.
“Who are you?” dad asks, now glaring at me.
Xolani wouldn’t be that stupid, would he?
“I’m Xolani, I got your number from Nalenhle, I’m not
sure if I’m speaking to the right person.” He still can’t
hear that this is my dad, not whoever he thought it was.
“Okay,” dad says.
I almost fall off the chair. Okay?
He comes to me with the phone and hands it over. This
has to be a trap. I know very well how my dad feels
about Xolani and the overall relationship.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Nokuzola,” he says.
“This is my dad’s phone.” He’s such an idiot, my dad is
glaring at me like I gave his number to Xolani.
“Fuck! Must I drop?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Please apologize for me,” he drops the call.
I want the floor to open up and swallow me right now.
“Thanks,” I give the phone back.
He takes it and surprisingly doesn’t make any comment.
Mine rings, I have to answer and address him calling my
dad’s phone. I close the book in front of me and step
outside to answer.
“Why are you calling my dad?” I ask.
“Nale set me up, she said it’s her friend’s number. I’m
really sorry.”
“What do you want, Xolani?” I ask.
“I just wanted to hear your voice, I’m sorry.”
This is not the morning I wanted to have.
“When are you coming back?” he asks.
“Today. Are you done? I’m busy.” I have to finish the
assignment and get myself ready.
“I’d like to see you when you are back,” he says.
“Alright Xolani, as I said, I’m busy right now.” I drop his
call and return inside the house.
I don’t know when his friendship with Nale blossomed to
the point of her giving him my dad’s number. I don’t want
to see him until Thursday, the day of abortion.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Msindisi wants to see me. It sounded urgent, he’s even

here to pick me up after work. It’s been one thing after
another for him, I honestly feel sorry for him. He’s
already waiting outside the gate.
I buy R5 chips and get in the car.
I look at him and he’s smiling. I don’t even know when
was the last time I saw him with that cute smile.
“Okay. Hello, what’s popping?” It looks like I might be
getting good news.
“Let’s get some food first. Trust me, it’s not good news,
I’m just happy to see you,” he says.
“Alright. Do you want Mamas for starters?” I ask opening
the pocket.
“No, thank you,” he says.
As expected, I fasten my seatbelt and enjoy the ride with
my snack.
He drives to an Indian restaurant, I wasn’t in the mood
for hot curry but I’m not going to complain about
something I’m getting for free.
“I’m not paying, right?” I ask before putting my order.
“What do you take me for, Nale?” He’s actually offended.
I’m in love with this person. Can he fetch me from work
everyday?
We order and get our drinks first. This is his moment,
let’s hear what’s the latest.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I have been talking to someone,” he says.
“Who?” I ask, hoping it’s a girl. I know he could use
some love right now.
“Musa,” he says.
“Thee Musa?” I’m confused.
“Yes, he’s been texting me. Don’t tell Nzalo this, please.
I don’t want him to get involved and blow this thing up,”
he says.
“What do you talk about?” I don’t understand this.
And he’s so calm about it! The man is a wanted
murderer.
“He’s trying to give his side of the story and asking for a
chance to meet up,” he says.
“Oh, and you want to trap him?”
“I will hear him out,” he says.
Sometimes I don’t understand Msindisi.
“He killed your mother, Msindisi.” I can’t believe he’s
interested in hearing him out.
“And he was my age when he did it, I want to hear him. I
want to know why he did it, beside being hired to, and
what my mother’s last moments were. Did she ask for
forgiveness or leave any message behind?”
“Can you at least discuss this with Nzalo first?” I’m really
worried.
“No, he dealt with Winnie and MaMkhwanazi, this one is
mine to handle.”
“Okay. Tip off the police and have security with you,” I
say.
“Stop worrying, I have it all figured out. Obviously I don’t
trust him, I won’t go there alone,” he says and that
relieves me.
“Promise me you won’t tell Nzalo,” he says.
“Bribe me,” I say.
“Friday night movie and drinks.”
“We have a deal.” I haven’t been out in a while, I’m
definitely not letting this opportunity pass me by.
Msindisi is a vibe when he’s not going through heavy
stuff, I know we will have tons of fun.
.
.
.
Guess who’s back?
My heart-broken cousin and she’s cooking.
“Hello mam,” I’m happy to see her.
“I have a bone to pick with you.” Ah, she can’t even hug
me first.
She hasn’t seen me in two days for Christ’ sake!
“What have I done?” I ask, pulling the chair to sit.
“Giving Xolani my dad’s number, really?”
“I was bored. Did he get any scolding?”
“No, and that’s weird, right?”
“Malume is losing his touch. He was here, telling me
how sorry he is. He looks miserable, especially when
talking about you wanting an abortion.”
“Let him be miserable, he needs to wake up,” she says.
I have never seen her so unbothered when it comes to
Mr X’s feelings.
“But what are we going to do about rent?” I ask.
“What did we do before him? Hhayi bo Nale, you and I
have jobs. I’m not going to take anything coming from
Xolani, we don’t need his money,” she says.
“I need it,” I say.
“Then get in his polygamous relationship and be
Robyn’s sisterwife.”
“I’d probably kill him with my bare hands. Anyway, I have
a tea. Remember Musa, the fugitive?” I shouldn’t be
telling her this but I only promised not to tell Nzalo.
“Has he been caught?” she asks.
“Nope, he wants to meet up with Msindisi and give his
side of the story,” I say.
“What? I hope he’s told the police,” she says.
“Well, he will be meeting up with him and no, the police
have not been informed. I don’t even know how to feel
about this. But I promised him that I won’t tell Nzalo
since he wants to handle this himself.”
“No, you have to tell him,” she says.
“And betray Msindisi’s trust? We have a deal.”
“A deal that could cost him his life. We are talking about
a murderer here, someone who escaped prison and
faked his death. Msindisi has proven how emotional he
can be. MaMkhwanazi is missing because of him,
remember?”
Now I’m confused. Do I tell Nzalo or not? Will Msindisi
ever trust me again?
.
.
.
ZOLA
I knew him asking to see me was fake. That’s why he’s
here without asking for my permission. I’m tempted to
close the door on his face but I’m not a dramatic person,
especially with that man who sits in the car across the
street probably watching us.
“I won’t be long,” he says.
“Come in,” I say.
“I don’t want to disturb Nale. Can we talk in the car?”
Yep, Xolani has to get things his way.
“No, inside the house or leave,” I stand my ground.
“Alright, thank you,” he walks in.
Was it that hard to obey me?
Nothing misses Nale’s ears, she comes out of the
bathroom wrapped in a towel with soap on her face. “Is
that grootman?”
She sees him. “I mean, Mr X.”
“Hi Nale,” he says.
Nale disappears. We sit down, I do my best to keep my
eyes away from him. He’s wearing Denim jeans and
pique polo shirt. He has a new brush cut.
“I want to have an early night,” I say.
“I won’t be long, I promise. Can I hug you?”
“No,” I’m not falling for any of his tricks. Not today.
He heaves a deep sigh and pops his finger joints. “Okay,
okay.”
It looks like he may need a minute. I relax and wait for
him to recover from whatever he’s going through right
now.
“Nokuzola ngiyaxolisa, I’m deeply sorry,” he says.
“I know that. What’s new?” I don’t want to hear the same
old story.
“I’m willing to support whatever decision you take. So,
I’d like to pay for your medical expenses and therapy,”
he says.
I’m not sure I’m hearing this correctly.
“What?” I want to him to repeat what he just said.
“That’s what you want, I have to put my feelings aside
and understand why you’re doing this. I hurt you and it’s
only fair that you hurt me back,” he says.
Well, I’m not pregnant, I only said that to hurt him.
“So you accept that I’m aborting your baby?”
He swallows hard, his chest bounces. “Yes. I know you
won’t take my recommendation, so how much is it?”
“R400,” I say the first amount I can think of.
“Can I take care of that? Will they give you counseling
before the process?”
Is he really accepting this? That was not the plan.
“Yes,” I say.
“I will make a transfer. Do you want me to go with you?”
“What? No.”
“Okay,” he says.

He doesn’t waste my time as he promised. I walk him to

the door, I can see that he’s not okay emotionally. But I
close the door without asking anything. I stand by the
window and watch his car. He’s there for over five
minutes, not driving away.
I hear a ping on my phone as he finally drives off.
“Is he gone?” Nale’s voice moves me away from the
window.
“Yeah. Can you believe he’s covered my abortion
expenses?”
“Really? We are rich, mos,” she says.
“No, it’s only R500, I told him it costs R400.”
“What? Are you crazy?” Of course she would’ve liked for
me to rip him off over lies.
I feel bad even about this R500. There’s no abortion
because there’s no baby.
“I think I’m going to throw up.” I’m not feeling well, I rush
towards the bathroom.
“Jeez, you didn’t even scam him too much, only R500,”
Nale says behind me.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 66
ZOLA

I know they say pain changes people but I don’t want to

fall under that. I swipe my card, settling my bill after
dining out with the money he sent for abortion. This is
not who I am; I’m not a liar. I’m glad this thing is coming
to an end. He checked on me in the morning, I think he
wanted to confirm if I’m still going ahead with the
“abortion”, and that was the last time I heard from him. I
know he’s going through it right now, which is what I
wanted. It’s becoming a different person because of
circumstances that I don’t like.
I take a taxi home and find Nale in the kitchen. She
didn’t say anything about shopping, she has Checkers
bags filled with goodies.
“I wouldn’t have brought you food if I knew you went
shopping,” I say.
“Who? Me? This was brought here by someone who
works for Mr X. It’s your comfort food while you go
through the healing process,” she says.
She’s having a slice of cake, there’s a box of Ultramel
open in front of her. I don’t know what to make of this.
“Isn’t he thoughtful?” She’s just enjoying the cake.
There’s nothing thoughtful about buying someone food
after you cheated on them and drove them to abortion.
Fake abortion.
“Okay, what’s up with the long face?”
“I hate lying, Nale,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Oh please, now you want to
confess?”
“Of course not, but I don’t want to be out of character
like this. I just want to move on from this whole thing.”
I’m still stuck in the same dark place.
I should put my effort into healing and moving on.
“Alright then. We are keeping the food, right?”
I laugh, “Why not?”
I feel like his chocolate cake came on time. I only need a
dessert for tonight then I’m sleeping my sorrows away. I
cut myself a generous piece for tasting and then cut
another one. Nale is staring at me like I’m eating her
cake.
“It’s mine,” I say.
“But since when do you eat so much cake?”
I’m confused. “Because it’s delicious and giving me joy.”
“Maybe you should text him and say thank you,” she
says.
“I’m not doing that, thank you very much.” I don’t owe
Xolani any text, he chose to send the cake here, I didn’t
ask him. I don’t want to open that window, he will take
my appreciation for weakness again.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

It’s Friday and I’m yet to inform Nzalo that I’m going out.
I don’t ask for permission or feel the need to tell him
where I am everytime, but now there are security
concerns I feel like I have to inform him.
I have airtime but I’m trying to save. So I buzz him with
one ring and drop. I wait for him to call me back. It
doesn’t take long before “My Everything” flashes on my
screen.
“I tried calling and you didn’t answer,” I say.
“It only rang once and you dropped. But you’re right, I’m
sorry for not answering. How are you sthandwa sami?”
he says.
“I’m good, just clocked out. I need to update you about
my plans for tonight,” I say.
“Okay, what are we doing tonight?” He’s including
himself in my plans.
“No babe, I made plans with Msindisi. We are going out
for a movie and drinks,” I say.
“Okay, I can get a ticket too,” he says.
“I’m not sure, hey. Maybe you can chill with your friends
too. It’s been long since you spent time with them,” I say.
“No Nale, you have to make up for this. It’s last minute,
all along I thought Friday would be for you and I,” he
says.
“Don’t worry, I will make it up to you.” I don’t even know
how, maybe I will buy him socks and copy and paste a
romantic message from Google.
“I love you, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says.
“Seriously?”
“I love you too, enjoy your night.”
Maybe I should have checked with Msindisi if there’s a
spot for a third person to join us. I’m looking forward to
this, I haven’t gone out in a while.
.
.
.

Zola said she’s going to town after work, so I don’t have

a stylist. I choose a dress, I have definitely grown some
height on it but it doesn’t look that short. I have seen
girls dressed in shorter dresses. And I’m wearing a
leather jacket to cover the chest area, nothing is overly
exposed except my legs.
Msindisi said I look good in my short hair, so I’m not
risking losing my wig. I’ve had my wig snatched in a club
before, I’m going all natural today.
Msindisi is here five minutes early, he respects time way
too much.
“I hope you are done,” he says.
“Almost,” I say.
“Okay, I will sit here and count minutes.”
I empty my purse and pack only what’s important for the
night. Then retouch my face and do a few walks in front
of the mirror. Within ten minutes I’m done, that was fast.
He looks up, “Oh, wow!”
“I look nice, right?”
“Way too nice. I’d be wrong if I don’t take a picture.” He’s
nothing like Nzalo, with that one you have to beg to take
pictures with. We take tons of selfies, changing poses
and deleting.
“We look good,” I say, going through the pictures.
“We would’ve looked good as a couple,” he says.
He is funny but no. “We almost have the same height. I
want my man’s head to be touching the sky. I want him
to be closer to God.”
“God is not in the sky, he is in the heart,” he says.
“And you think he is not in your brother’s heart?”
“I don’t know, he is my heart though, and you.” Says the
same guy who could have possibly killed his stepmother
not so long ago.
“Let’s go,” I say.
.
.
.
ZOLA

Nale has her movie thing with Msindisi, that means I will
be alone half of the night. I still have my comfort food
from yesterday, I will watch TV and be okay. I get in my
pyjamas and settle on the couch. I’m hopping through
channels looking for something I can watch, my phone
rings.
It’s him, usually I just don’t answer his calls. But he’s
been acting human lately, I pick up.
Boom, he’s outside the door.
I’m alone, Nale is not here to back me up. I don’t want to
see him, I don’t want to have a conversation. I open the
door, he walks in wearing black, long sleeve T-shirt and
sunglasses.
He’s indoor now, I expect him to take them off but he
doesn’t.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
His voice sounds bruised and hoarse.
“I’m okay, thank you,” I say.
“I got you this.” He gives me a pharmacy packet, he
bought me some medication.
I’m feeling more guilty because I didn’t have any
abortion yesterday.
He takes a seat, without me approving. I get my snacks
and sit down.
“I was about to watch a movie,” I say.
“That’s okay,” he says.
I keep the volume low and watch. It’s weird, him and I
used to be so in love and close. But now we just sit like
strangers. I think an hour passes, I’m glued on the TV
and he’s in his head most of the time.
“Do you need something to drink?”
He clears his throat, “No, thank you.”
Well, I need one, this atmosphere is too tense.
I get a glass of juice and come back.

He takes the sunglasses off, finally. I can see his eyes

and I understand why he’s wearing them. My
conscience knocks me guiltily. A man is mourning a
baby that didn’t exist. He looks at his phone and heaves
a sigh.
“Onathi is texting me, she’s not used to being alone in
the house at night,” he says.
“You should go home,” I say.
“Yeah, probably.” He drops his face and stares at the
floor for a good minute.
He takes a deep breath and looks at me. He locks his
swollen eyes on me, there’s so much pain in them. I
have more conscience than him, I feel bad.
“Did you really do it?” he asks.
I summon my nerves with a deep breath and nod.
He stares at me for a minute and then looke away.
“What’s been glaring this whole week is that for every
sin committed there will be someone to pay. And it sucks
that mine had to be paid off by an innocent soul. I don’t
know if I will ever forgive myself for this.”
I need a sip quickly.
“I don’t know if God will ever bless me with another child
again. I have missed out twice.” He rubs his hands and
takes another deep breath.
“You will be, Robyn will give you one,” I say.
He looks at me, “I’m not dating Robyn. Never have,
never will.”
“Oh, you just sleep with her?” I don’t even want to talk
about this again.
He doesn’t answer. He still doesn’t have a valid reason
why that happen. He is just a selfish man who only care
about what his dick wants.
“Obviously she gives you what you like, you should be
sticking to her instead wasting my time.” I really hate
that I went out of my comfort zone trying to please this
man and I was still not enough.
“I love you,” he says.
“You do? Really?”
“Do you really think I don’t love you, Nokuzola? Do you
think the months I have spent with you were just a game
and I’m happy to be where we are right now?”
“Yes,” I say.
He releases a deep sigh. “That’s not true, I love you.”
“There’s no love without trust, you’re old enough to know
that. You had Robyn on the phone swearing that there’s
nothing going on between the two of you. You are a
wicked, old man. I can’t believe you made me look that
stupid.”
“But there was nothing going on. It only happened once,
in Hluhluwe. And I regret that night with my whole heart.
I should’ve acted differently, that wasn’t worth me losing
you and my baby. If I could, I would turn back time. If I
could, I would’ve asked to carry my baby myself. But I
don’t have a womb to do that, I couldn’t save her.” His
voice cracks with agony. He really thinks I was pregnant,
I don’t know why he’s so convinced that he scored.
“Why did you cheat?” I ask.
“I don’t know, Nokuzola. I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m
sorry.” Oh, now he wants to cry.
“Please Xolani, don’t even trick God into thinking I’m
making an elder cry. You did me wrong, I should be the
one crying about this, not you. You bought a condom,
took your clothes off and pleased another woman. And
you want to tell me you were not thinking straight!” I’m
not a fool, he thought about it and thought I was not
going to find out. Until today, he wasn’t even apologetic
about it.
“You have killed my baby, what more do you want?”
“Awu! I thought you were supporting my decision and
now you’re holding that against me?” I knew it wasn’t
coming from his heart. He was probably advised by
someone foolish and thought it would get him my love
back.
“I am supporting you,” he says.
“Oh, your support is accompanied by tears?”
He pulls his T-shirt over his face. Umhlaba ujikele
obaqwe this time.
“You have been through a lot, huh?” It’s raining 1980s
tears, now he’s the victim.
I need to refill my juice and get some biscuits.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 67
ZOLA

I can’t sleep, I’m feeling guilty. I know I shouldn’t be

feeling sorry for him, he hurt me. But man, those were
real tears and I hate to think that he’s emotionally
mourning. I appreciate life, I don’t want to loosely play
around with the idea of terminating it. Maybe that’s why
I’m having minor pain in my abdomen, God is punishing
me. I have to pray and ask for forgiveness. I would
never harm an innocent soul to get back to a man.
I make a prayer and then get in bed. I want to call Nale,
just to be sure that she’s still safe out there. But an
incoming call disturbs me.
I answer, I do want to hear if he got home safe.
“Are you sleeping?” he asks.
“I just got in bed. Are you home yet?”
“I am,” he says.
That’s a relief I needed.
A moment of silence passes with him on the phone.
“I’m sorry about how I acted,” he says.
“It’s okay,” I say.
“Sleep well,” he says.
“Thank you.” I’d wish the same for him but I’m still bitter.
“I would like to…” he doesn’t finish, he stops.
I wait but he keeps quiet.
“Goodnight makoti,” he says and drops the call.
I might need some pain killers, this pain isn’t just minor.
It’s starting to feel like stomachache, maybe I over
consumed sugar.

I get painkillers and then call the party animal. She takes
long to answer, I expected her to sound drunk but she
sounds sober than the usual days when she goes out.
Msindisi must be putting her on a leash. They’re about
to leave the place they are in. Now I can sleep
peacefully.
Phone beeps!
It’s a text from Xolani.
*LIFE FEELS SO EMPTY WITHOUT YOU. I REALLY
MISS YOU, NOKUZOLA. BUT I TRUST IN GOD,
KUZOLUNGA KONKE*
Now he’s including God in his dirty affairs. Life is full of
surprises!
.
.
.

NALENHLE

Partying is not fun when you left a bored boyfriend

behind who keeps video-calling and asking how many
drinks you’ve had. I need to address this behavior so
that it doesn’t occur in future. Msindisi leaves me in the
car and rushes to the bathroom. We are about to head
home, it’s just after midnight. I’m sure Zola got tired of
waiting and slept, I kept lying and saying I’m about to
leave.
Nzalo answers, “Babe.”
“You’re still awake. Yazi Nzalo I’m not going to tolerate
this. I couldn’t even enjoy my night because of you,” I
say.
He laughs, “Because of me? It’s not my fault that your
night turned out cold, I was just checking up on you.”
He’s enjoying this.
“I think you’re getting old, maybe you should find new,
age-appropriate ways of having fun. Maybe start reading
books. I can recommend a few,” he says.
He just called me old. Oh my god! I age-shame people,
not the other way around.
“I’m not old.” Imagine Nzalo who is chasing 40 calling
me old. “You are old. In fact everyone in your family is
old.”
“We have two teenage girls,” he says.
“Do they read?” I ask.
“They party and enjoy it. Unlike you, suffering from
quarter life crisis and throwing tantrums after partying,”
he says.
“That’s it, you are now single.”
He laughs.
Idiot! I drop the call. Msindisi just got back in the car.
He.looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“Your brother is annoying but I’m fine.”
“I feel like your relationship is more quarrels and less
happiness, which is what you truly deserve,” he says.
Definitely exaggerating the situation. Yes, we do quarrel
but most of the times it’s over stupid things and out of
love. Nzalo knows me better than anyone, he knows that
my night didn’t turn out the way I expected and just
blaming him because I can’t face reality. Months ago I
enjoyed going out and drinking, but today something
was just amiss.
“You deserve love that is soft and patient, especially
after the rough times you’ve been through.” He actually
wants this conversation to continue.
“I am getting it,” I say.
“Are you?” He stares at me.
I know it comes from a good place but I don’t appreciate
it.
“Yeah, I’m happy,” I say.
“Come on, Nale. You’re comfortable because you have
been with him some time. I have not seen you happy. I
mean really happy like a girl who is loved deeply and
right.”
“He is your brother, dude.” I don’t understand why he
doesn’t advise Nzalo if he sees something wrong
because right now it sounds like he’s badmouthing
Nzalo.
“I do care about you as well. Don’t you see that?”
We both didn’t drink that much, so I’m confused.
“I want you to be good,” he says.
“I am good. You are making me uncomfortable.”
“By looking at you?” he asks.
“No, the way you’re talking. I don’t like the idea of you
guys not having each other’s back. I know you mean
well but I prefer you caring about your brother more than
me.” I can’t relate to family members talking bad about
each other. I talk bad to Zola’s face, not behind her
back. I can’t fathom that.
“Can we go?” I ask.
He starts the car. I definitely didn’t need to hear this, it
changes the way I look at him and that’s not what I want.
I know his gentleness, I know he wouldn’t be
intentionally vile towards his loved ones.
.
.
.
We were almost all the way. He pulls outside and looks
at me, I can see that he has something to say. I take my
bag and two cans that I left.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“It’s fine, really. I’m good,” I say.
“I know you love him, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Maybe I
think too much.”
“You think about what?” I ask.
“You and I. I just think we have mutual understanding
and a lot of similarities,” he says.
“I hope you’re not thinking about what MaMkhwanazi
said about you and I being more fit for each other. That
will put me in an awkward position. Nzalo is your blood,
you shouldn’t even entertain such thoughts. Even if him
and I don’t work out, we will never be an option.”
“Why not?” He’s bold enough to ask me this instead of
taking back everything he’s said.
“Because you’re his brother and I will never come
between the two of you,” I say.
“But he also knows that we have better communication
and a lot in common. That’s why he asked me to talk to
you when he held you hostage.”
“It doesn’t mean we have a mysterious connection. It’s
just an age thing, I’m 26 and you are 25, he’s bound to
think that you understand me better.” I can’t believe I’m
even explaining this. This boy is really stressing me out.
“Okay,” he says.
I can see his disappointment, this is not what he wanted
to hear. I’m not even angry, I just feel bad for him and
Nzalo. Nzalo would be hurt if he finds out he had such
thoughts.
“Drive safely, I’m going to sleep,” I say.
“Sleep well,” he says.
“Thank you. And thank you for the fantastic night.” I
open the door and climb out.
I need to sleep, I will digest this tomorrow.
.
.
.

I wake to Zola making breakfast. One thing about Zola,

she was meant to be a rich housewife who has maids.
My niece hates cooking and all kinds of housework. So
I’m surprised to her this active and even serving me.
“What is all this for?” I ask.
“I know you’re hung over, I want you to rest,” he says.
“No, I know you. There is more to this. What’s going
on?” I know she’s bribing me with this.
“I want to confess to Xolani, I’ve taken this too far. I’m
making him mourn a baby that didn’t even exist,” she
says.
Really? It hasn’t even been a month.
“Msindisi was really weird,” I talk about more important
things.
“He was crying, I have never seen him so broken,” she
says.
“He thinks I’m not happy with Nzalo and he’s more
suitable for me.”
“Whaaat?” Now she’s paying attention.
“I couldn’t believe it, I think he’s getting confused and
lost in reality. That’s why I feel sorry for him and not
even angry.” I understand how close he was to
MaMkhwanazi. She was in his life soon after his mother
passed. And when MaMkhwanazi shifted, I was the
closest female to him.
“Did you tell Nzalo?” Zola asks.
“And say what? ‘Your brother is hitting on me’. That will
drive them apart, their brotherhood is not even the
tightest at the moment. I think he needs help, he needs
to heal from these women leaving his life. I’m not going
to stand in the gap, I’m just his brother’s girlfriend who
cares for him. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“You are right, you shouldn’t tell Nzalo. But this is weird
and it will get more weird when you’re with them in the
same space, at the same time,” she says.
“I know, that’s what I hate. And I think Nzalo was already
not comfortable with our friendship, always making
senseless boundaries on what I should do and shouldn’t
do.” Yoh, I feel like a female version of Mr X right now. I
made Nzalo sound stupid for pointing out that our
friendship needed boundaries.
“What if Mr X’s spirit entered me? Why would I start
acting like him soon after we put our differences aside.”
Zola raises her eyebrow, “You put your differences
aside?”
“Yeah, I advised him to…” Oh shucks.
I should learn how to shut up.
“Don’t tell me you’re the one who’s been advising him to
bring me goodies, just so you can benefit?” Zola really
thinks horribly of me.
“I’m everything but I’d never use your situation to get
free things from Mr X,” I say.
“You’d never, Nale?” She tilts back her head.
“Okay, maybe the old Nale would have,” I say.
“You are the old Nale, there’s no brand new Nale who
has popped out of you overnight.” She’s angry and I
don’t understand why. She gets along with Nzalo even
when him and I are fighting. I’m trying to be a changed
person, I haven’t given Mr X any advice that would
offend her. I respect her decisions and stand by her.
“Have advice for your own life now. What are you going
to do about Msindisi? Cut him off?”
“That’s too drastic, I will just pull back a little bit because
clearly he’s misunderstanding our friendship. He just
needs to deal with his demons and find a girlfriend.” I
can’t just stop caring about him. I know he’s not a bad
person, he’s just having a rough time and looking for a
pillar of strength in the wrong places.
My phone rings. It's Msindisi, I don’t know why I feel like
a mini Mr X, I haven't done anything wrong.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 68

All he knows is that Musawenkosi is a man in his mid-

thirties, younger than MaMkhwanazi and related through
mothers. He only knows a picture of him that was
published in newspapers, he looked younger at the time,
he was in his 20s. Despite Nalenhle warning him against
communicating with Musa, he’s been responding to
texts. Musa is close, he’s not hiding far, judging by how
convenient he thinks it is to just meet up and talk.
But what about MaMkhwanazi? A seed of doubt has
been continuously planted in his head, right now he
doesn’t know whether he really killed her or his uncle
was right. He wasn’t tuned in with reality that day, he
remembers some things but not the rest of what
transpired.
A message comes in: I KNOW WHERE SHE IS.
That’s Musa, his heart starts racing.
CAN I CALL YOU? -he texts back.
It ticks twice, Musa doesn’t get back to him. Clearly he
doesn’t want a phone or video call, which makes things
complicated.
CAN WE MEET TOMORROW?- Msindisi.
He reads and responds this time. Yes, he’s okay with
them meeting tomorrow but Msindisi has to assure him
that there will be no police. He thinks about telling Nale
but after their last conversation he might be the last
person she wants to hear from. Does he have any
regrets? Definitely yes, she made it clear that he’s
crossing the line. But does it change how he thinks? No.
.
.
.
Nzalo comes home, with food takeaways as usual. They
don’t cook, it’s pretty much fast food everyday. They
haven’t settled in yet, it still feels like they’re guests in
this house. Fuck MaMkhwanazi for that, she
manipulated them into leaving their mother’s house to
warm hers. Hopefully their mother has forgiven them for
all their mistakes.
“What were you up to all day?” Nzalo asks, taking a seat
across the couch.
“Nothing. I went out for lunch and came back, that’s just
about it," he says.
“When do you think you’re coming back to work?” Nzalo.
“I don’t know, I still have things to do.” He hasn’t been to
work in weeks.
He’s not in a good space of mind to go there.
“There’s nobody supervising at dispatch, you
understand that, right? You’re making me overwork
Ngubane, there’s no order, meanwhile you’re still getting
paid.”
“I will go to work when I’m ready to,” Msindisi says.
“Most people are going through shit, from warehouse
manager, coordinator, supervisors and drivers. But it
doesn’t mean we have to stop operating, this is all we
have. I expect you, out of all people, to put our legacy
first.”
“Hhayi-ke asazi, you can fire me if you want.” He rests
his back on the couch and replies his texts.
There’s been a lot of disrespect lately. Nzalo let it slide
most of the times because he understands why Msindisi
is angry at him. He feels excluded and undermined,
especially when it comes to family matters. But is it
really that bad to want to protect your younger brother?
He doesn’t get into an exchange though, his temper
won’t allow him to argue without putting hands, so it’s
better that he just goes away.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I don’t think avoiding Msindisi will work, I have to figure

out a way to resolve this without pitting them against
each other. And I think talking to his uncle will definitely
be a good start. I trust he won’t tell Nzalo knowing the
damage this could cause to the family. I also need him
to keep an eye on Msindisi, that boy has lost his senses.
I have a bad feeling about Musa. He’s the most wanted
criminal in town right now. The only way he can escape
prison this time is through real death. What if he wants
to kill more people and then kill himself because the
police catch him? Msindisi is definitely not a Mkhwanazi
family friend after what he allegedly did.

But I can only arrange to see Mr X tomorrow because

today Nzalo said I must dress up by 6:30pm. I don’t
know any of his plans. Yes, we eat out together most of
the times, but he’s never told me to dress up. Obviously
it’s something big, maybe Usher is in town.
Zola has been in bed since we came back from work.
Yes, she’s not a fan of domestic activities but she also
doesn’t just lie in bed so early. I finish my glam and
check up on her.

Ah, she’s even covered with a blanket.

“Hey, are you okay?” I’m getting worried.
She sticks her head out, looking sleepy. “I took pain
killers, I think it’s period pains.”
“You think?” I’m confused.
Period pains are period pains, you don’t think about it.
“I’m not on my periods yet, I think they’re coming.”
“But you’ve been complaining about these minor pain for
days, maybe you need to visit a doctor and see if it’s not
something serious,” I say.
“It’s not,” she insists.
“But what if you have cancer?”
“Cancer?” She frowns and sits up.
“Yeah, it is cancer,” I confirm.
“You are such an evil human being. I have to text my
manager, I can’t go to work tomorrow, I will go and see
Dr Zulu,” she says.
“That wasn’t hard. How do I look?” I give her a twirl so
that she can see the back. I have never worn this dress
anywhere before. I was saving it for special occasions
like this.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I don’t know, maybe there’s an Usher concert or we are
attending a private dinner with the minister.” All I know is
that it’s something big.
“Enjoy, I’m sleeping,” she pulls up the blanket.
I need to make the last touch ups before Nzalo arrives.
.
.
.

We are in Grill what-what, I think we are here to pick up

someone. It may look a bit fancy but this is just a
Shisanyama that grew up in the suburbs. I didn’t dress
up to come to a shisanyama.
“This is my uncle’s establishment,” he says, smiling.
“Oh, I didn’t know.” We are just 15 minutes away from
the casino.
And no, I’m not impressed.
“We have never celebrated him and his achievements.
We have been so divided, it’s crazy.” He's admiring the
place and I can see the remorse.
“So this is our destination?” I ask.
“Yes, I want us to celebrate our 6th monthiversary here.
Did I tell you how scrumptious you look?”
“Stop it. I didn’t even put any effort in this look.” Forget
the fancy shisanyama, I don’t know when was the last
time I lasted this long in a relationship.
“I know, it just happened naturally,” he says, smiling.
I roll my eyes. He knows me way too much, this man
can read me from my back. I hate and love him for it.
“Of course, I just grabbed the first dress I saw,” I say.
“Mmmm. And how do I look?” he asks.
He’s wearing a black T-shirt and jean shorts with
sneakers.
“Basic,” I say.
He was waiting for that, he knows I’m brutally honest
with my opinions. We kiss, then he opens the door for
me and holds my hand as we make our way in.
“Where are the customers?” I ask, I don’t see any.
“I booked the place for us,” he says.
My heart dances. It doesn’t get better than this.
“I’m kidding, they are close for business today but I
pulled a few strings and got them open for two hours just
for us,” he says.
I delete everything he just said immediately. He booked
this place for me, that’s the story I’m going to tell people.

He could’ve gotten a few decorations but I understand,

my man sucks when it comes to such things. At least
there’s soft music playing, I don’t see any employee.
Maybe they’re in the back, our table is already laid and
ready for us.
It’s a lot of food, well-represented shisanyama with fancy
greens and unnecessary cutlery.
“I could have taken you to a fine dining but a barbecue
restaurant seemed better. It’s a family restaurant, which
profits my uncle. And it represents what you are to me,
which is home. The months I’ve spent with you have
really been the best time of my life.”
“You are making me blush.” I grab a wet towel and wipe
my hands. There’s no way I’m eating shisanyama with
fork and knife. I need to roll pap with my hand.
“Is it not painful to be left-handed?” One thing about
Nzalo’s stupidity, it doesn’t have good timing.
“Dating you is painful,” I say.
He chuckles, “And you’re still here, six months later.
What has made you stick around for so long?”
“Because I love you,” I say.
“I know, but we’ve had our ups and downs. You have
also expressed how this hasn’t turned out the way you
expected. So I don’t know if love makes you tolerate
me.” That definitely bruised him when I said it. It’s still on
his mind even now.
“But I think I tolerate you as much as you tolerate me. I
have done my assignment and there’s no such thing as
perfect partner. We just have to build each other; learn
from every mistake and grow,” I say.
“I’m willing to do that and improve my communication
skills. That’s just one thing killing my relationships,” he
says.
“Relationships?” Excuse me!
He smiles, “Uneskhwele yazi. I’m talking about Msindisi,
I think I’ve broken communication somewhere.”
I need to get myself together, I’m not guilty of anything.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I don’t want to talk about it here, this is our time. But
lately he’s been egomaniac and I’m letting him be,
because half of it is my fault. I didn’t let him make
important decisions and have a voice when he needed
to,” he says.
“That’s sad but I know he will come around.” This is not
something that I want to think about today. I pour wine
into my glass and take a sip.
“How did you know that I like Pinotage?” I ask.
“I don’t know because you hardly drink wine in front of
me.” He’s being sarcastic.
He smiles at me rolling my eyes. “You are my favorite
person on earth.”
“Really now? Over Lwethu?”
“She’s my favorite person but default. Unlike you, whom
I can choose to be not my favorite person,” he says.
“How lucky!” Let me take a sip to celebrate.
“I mean it, I could be having a shitty day but once I hear
your voice it becomes brighter. I don’t want to ever lose
you,” he says.
“We will never lose each other, I promise.” I lean over to
his side and seal it with a quick kiss. “You make me
happy, believe me.” I know people like Msindisi think
otherwise but I’m happy with the person I’m with. I don’t
regret giving him a chance.
“I appreciate hearing that,” he smiles.

Someone appears, I thought it was just the two of us

here.
It’s a friendly young gentleman with a chocolate
fountain. I’m a village girl, things like this excite me. I
buy chocolate slabs, I’ve never had a whole fountain in
front of me.
“This looks beautiful. Can I take pictures?"
“Yeah,” he says.
He’s on the other side, he will also show in pictures
which is something he usually doesn’t like.
“I will post them,” I say.
“Okay then, let me pose.”
This is new. Nzalo and posing for pictures!
I snap more than enough and then ask to take his,
standing alone. Again, no hustle. He stands up and does
every pose I recommend.
I don’t even know why he hates taking pictures because
he’s photogenic.
Zola is calling me. I have to answer because I left her
not feeling well. She wants me to get her oranges on my
way back, she says she wants something sour. I’m
getting worried about her, can’t tomorrow come already?
“What’s wrong now?” Nzalo asks.
“Zola is not well, she’s been having abdominal problems
but she will be visiting a doctor tomorrow,” I say.
“I’m sure she will be fine. Did she tell babomncane?”
“For what? They’re no longer together,” I say.
“So he doesn’t deserve to know what’s going on?”
“Yes,” I say.
He chuckles and eats his ribs.
“What’s funny?” I ask.
“Nothing is funny. But the way you say it, it’s like
babomncane won’t know anyway. Zola is special to him,
obviously he will know when she goes to the doctor,” he
says.
I’m confused. “Is he stalking her?”
“That’s a big word. Protecting her, yes. And that’s not a
crime, she also knows that we may have people
targeting us,” he says.
“Wait, are you saying he knows every place Zola goes
to?”
“Hhayi ke, don’t put words in my mouth.” Now he wants
to change what he just said.
That’s exactly what he implied to.
“On Thursday did he know where she was?” I ask.
“It would have been reckless of him not to. What if
something happened?” he says.
“Nzalo wait, are you sure about this? That means he
knew that Zola went to a restaurant instead of…”
“Going to an abortion clinic? Yes, he knew, but this is
none of our business.”
What the fuck? Jesus Christ.
I can’t believe this. We are even feeling sorry for Mr X
because he’s been crying about his so-called aborted
baby, meanwhile he knows that no abortion happened.
“Your uncle is such a liar,” I’m shocked.
“You and Zola lied, he just played along.”
“That’s what fucked up. He’s still making a fool out of
Zola. Why would he know that she lied? That’s
disrespectful.” I can’t believe on top of everything he’s
done, he is still doing this.
“He was bringing her comfort food and medication to
relieve pain. Are you kidding me right now?” Hawe ma,
this senior.
“You are not going to say anything to Zola. This is none
of your business, stay out of it. Do you want to see what
I got you?”
“Yes, but let me clap first.” Clap once, clap twice.
Mr X has a special seat in hell.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 69
NOKUZOLA

I have been worried since yesterday after Nale talked

about cancer. I’m next in line and it feels like they’re
taking forever to take me to the examining room. I woke
up feeling better today but I’m not taking it as a positive
sign.
Finally, it’s my turn.
I know Dr Zulu, I have been here a number of times.
After telling him why I’m here, he checks my vitals and
tells me to lie down. All I want to hear is that I don’t have
cancer, any infection or disease is okay.
“When last did you have your periods?”
How does that relate to the situation? I’m confused.
“Last month,” I say.
He chuckles, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I’m getting a little nervous. “I took a pregnancy
test and it came back negative.”
“When was that?” he asks.
“I think a week and few days ago.” My heart is racing.
This is not what I came here for.
“Any fatigue, nausea and food you suddenly like?”
Fuck. It’s three yeses.
“Am I pregnant?” God please, I know my sins but not
this.
“Yes, there’s a little one coming. There’s no cancer or
anything you should worry about, you’re experiencing
harmless ligament pain,” he says.
Indeed God has his favorites and I’m not on the list.

Now I’m really pregnant and Xolani thinks I aborted the

baby long time ago. This makes me mad because it
means he was right, he knew that I was pregnant. I
know it takes two to tango but I was not ready for a baby
and he knows it. Not just him, my mom as well, she was
suspiciously asking if I’m not pregnant when I was
home.
How am I going to face my dad? Everything he said
would happen is happening.
I don’t know how I got home without crying. Nale is at
work, I cannot vent to anyone. Now I’m carrying a whole
human being with Xolani’s DNA. So he wins; he gets
what he wanted. Food is the only thing that can console
me until… I don’t know until when.
.
.
.
Nale gets home, I have watched over hundred videos of
baby development and women going into labor. It all
scares the shit out of me. I have an actual human being
that’s going to grow inside of me.
“Hey, how are you feeling? What did the doctor say?”
she asks.
I have been holding tears all day. I can’t anymore; she
throws down her bag and rushes to me.
“Please don’t tell me they have to remove your womb?”
Out of everything, Nale will think of the most ridiculous
outcome.
“No, I’m pregnant,” I cry.
Her eyes widen, she’s shocked. “How? You were not
pregnant when I bought you a test.”
“It was too early for it to detect,” I say.
“OMG! This is worse than what I thought.” She looks at
my stomach, covers her mouth and gasps.
I’m not showing yet, my tummy is still flat.
“What am I going to say to Xolani now?” This is why I
hate lying, now I’m caught in a bigger mess that I don’t
even know how I’m going to get out of.
“He knows,” she says.
“What does he know?” I’m lost.
“Nzalo said I mustn’t tell you. Mr X knows that you didn’t
go to any abortion clinic, he’s just playing along with the
lie,” she says.
“How does he know? I was using taxis.”
“We literally have someone watching the house every
night. We should have put one and two together,” she
says.
Okay, I’m angry. I did consent to his people looking after
us because I understood the security concern, but I
didn’t say I want to be stalked.
“So he’s been acting all this time?”
“Unfortunately, yep.”
We will see how far his acting skills can take him.
“Where are you going now?” She follows me.
I’m changing into my tracksuits and sneakers. I need to
pay Idris Elba a visit, I’ve had it with his disrespect. I
can’t believe I was even feeling sorry for him, he’s been
fooling me this whole time.
.
.
.
Onathi opens the door for me with a frown on her face.
I’m not here for the little brat, I’m here for her cunning
father. I can see that she already has an attitude.
“Where is your dad?” I ask.
“Upstairs,” she says with her nose wrinkled.
I leave her at the door with her creased face.
He’s not in the bedroom, obviously he’s in the study
room.
I push it open and walk in.
“I always tell you to knock,” he says before turning his
head.
He turns and sees me. “Is everything alright?”
“You are stalking me? Wena you are now invading my
privacy and rights as a citizen of South Africa.” I really
want to grab him with my bare hands but I will never
escalate things to that level.
“I don’t understand. I’m here, how am I stalking you?”
Now he’s acting innocent and I’m the crazy one.
“You have people following me, fool,” I say.
“One person and that’s not something new. You know
why I have to ensure that you’re safe even when you are
not with me. What is the matter?”
“The matter is, you’re a lying bustard. You have been
acting like you’re hurting, shedding crocodile tears and
sobbing. Knowing very well that you are just fooling me,
lezinja ozifuyile already told you where I was Thursday.”
“What did you want me to do?” he asks.
“Be fuckin’ honest for once in your life Xolani. That’s
what I wanted, don’t pull an act, you’re too old for that
shit,” I say.
“I don’t think there’s anything I can do right in your eyes
at the moment. I have not acted, every emotion I’ve
gone through has been real. Yes, I am hurting, I’m not
pretending. You hate me, your whole family hates me, I
came close to a place of happiness and came crushing
down again. It’s not nice, there’s nothing I fooled you
about.”
“It serves you right, shosho. Wena ubuwumgodi
onganukwanja, nobody wanted to be around you, not
even your family. I loved you, ngakwenza umuntu.
Ngisho unyoko wayengak’funi wena, even your mother
didn’t want you. I have never met a last-born who was
hated by his mother. All mothers love their last-born,
obviously you have a problem.” I can see the pain
flashing through his eyes and guess what, I don’t give a
damn. “Are you even sure that you are a Hadebe? I
mean, there must be a reason why her husband didn’t
put you on his will. Wena udinga isiko, you are not
normal, go and find your real dad. Maybe, just maybe,
after that you will be easy to love and you will learn how
to respect people.”
I went too low but I don’t know how else to hurt him
back. He doesn’t utter a word, his chest will burst his
shirt buttons if he doesn’t calm down his breaths. His
hands are trembling, he removes them and puts them
under the desk.
“I hope my child will forgive me for choosing something
like you as a father. I hope he or she takes nothing from
you. You have nothing to offer other than what you can
use money to buy. Money is the only good thing you
have going on.”
He looks at me, I can see the shock but he remains
silent.
“I’m done, stay well.” I leave him in the trembling state
he is in.
That went exactly as I wanted. I hit all the nerves, I
broke him the same way he broke me.
.
.
.

NZALO

At first he thought Msindisi was in town but it’s late now

and there’s still no sign of him. He’s worried because
nobody knows where he is. Xolani’s house is the last
place Msindisi would come to but right he’s looking
everywhere.
Onathi finally opens the door after he’s knocked for
almost 5 minutes. She was already in bed.
“Hey, unjani?”
“I’m good,” Onathi says.
“Please tell me that Msindisi is here.”
“Umh, nope. I haven’t seen him since dinner.”
“Fuck! Where is babomncane?” He makes his way in.
He hears the voice before Onathi even directs him. Why
is his uncle talking so loud?
He finds Xolani sitting on the couch, his legs thrown
over.
“Have you been drinking?” Nzalo looks around, there
are bottles lying down.
No, no, this is not what he needs today.
“Babomncane no man, Msindisi is not home,” he says.
“Msi-ndi…Msi-ndisi? I don’t know who that is. You see
Nzalokayise mfana wami, your grandparents hated me.”
It’s story time this side.
Nzalo sighs, “I’m sorry babomncane but we have an
urgent situation here.”
“Nokuzola is insulting me like this. Like this! What have I
done to her? Ngimenzeni losisi wakwaThabethe
ngempela?”
“Babomncane this is not the time. Msindisi is missing,”
Nzalo says, frustrated.
“Msindisi will come back. What about Nokuzola? There’s
nothing good she remembers about me, she called me
umgod’ onganukwanja.” Clearly this is not going
anywhere.
Nzalo sighs, “Can you at least go to your bedroom?
Onathi looks scared.”
“Why did your grandparents hate me so much?”
“I don’t know babomncane, bye.”
.
.
.
MSINDISI

He had to get his own bodyguards, not Nzalo’s or his

uncle’s. They don’t know where he is and he knows they
will panic, because to them he’s too stupid to get
anything done on his own. He’s about to face the most-
wanted criminal, his mother’s murderer- someone who
took the most important person from his life.
It had to be Musa’s location, he didn’t trust Msindisi
easily. Him coming with bodyguards is something they
didn’t agree on. It might scare him off but Msindisi came
here purely to listen to his side of the story. There’s
nothing special about getting Musa locked up.
With bodycam strapped around his body and two
bodyguards outside, Msindisi makes his way in. What he
expects to see is a man who’s been in hiding. Hair
unkempt, skin evident of prolonged sun exposure, and
teeth unfamiliar to a toothbrush. In all this he forgot this
man has been under MaMkhwanazi’s payroll for years.
His eyebrows furrow at first sight. “Are you…?”
Obviously, it’s just the two of them.
Musa’s eyes are behind him. He looks visibly scared. He
is shorter than what Msindisi imagined. Slim and light
skinned.
“I’m alone,” Msindisi says.
“No, you have people with you.”
“I don’t. Are you armed?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Put it away, I will also put mine away.”
There’s no trust between them. Msindisi slowly pulls out
Nzalo’s gun that he stole and puts it on the ground.
Musa is doing the same. Their eyes are locked, just in
case one makes any funny move.
“Chair,” Msindisi says.
“Move closer,” he says.
Msindisi steps closer, he lowers down on the chair and
swallows back, looking relieved.
Msindisi stops two feet away, still staring at him. “I didn’t
think you’d look like this,” he says.
“I’m not a thug,” Musa says.
“Yes, you are a murderer.”
“It wasn’t my intention,” he says.
Msindisi scoffs and looks away in disgust.
“Why?” he asks.
“Where do I start? Poverty, arranged marriage, family
dynamics and lack of better understanding.”
“Start from the beginning, I have the whole night,”
Msindisi.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 70
“Where did you get my number?”
“From Phindile…don’t worry, she doesn’t know that I’m
here.”
“So she is alive?” He sighs heavily.
This is not what he hoped for.
“For now,” Musa says.
“What do you mean for now?”
“I don’t know what will happen. For now I need to
explain myself to you, she said you are a good listener.
First and for the most, I’m sorry for all the pain I caused
to you and your family.”
Msindisi takes a deep breath. “Why? Why did you do it?”
“I was 24, arranged to get married and broke. I was
presented with an opportunity that I thought would
change my life. Little did I know that would be the end of
my life.”
“You are alive, my mother is not. You have been living
comfortably, tax-free, and getting everything you want
for yourself and your wife.”
“I understand, that’s how you see it. But I lost my
freedom, there’s no part of my life that I’m proud of and
happy with.”
Msindisi raises his eyebrow, “Winnie?”
“Winnie is living her life. Yes, she’s the only connection
I’ve had to the real world. But we don’t hold water, our
parents got us together and that was it. It was because
of that situation that I had to commit a crime that has
cost me my life.” He looks softer than Msindisi expected.
Now as he sits here, no stranger would suspect him of
such evil act.
“How did you get out?” Msindisi asks.
“They helped me, it was part of the deal.”
“Who is “they”?” Msindisi.
“My sister…and brother-in-law.”
Msindisi frowns. This doesn’t register. “My dad?”
Musa nods, “Yes.”
“Bustard, you’re lying!” His dad was inconsolable, he
mourned and had a hard time accepting reality. Maybe
he didn’t eat for a week, it was that bad.
“I have no reason to lie,” Musa says.
“You lied about being dead. My dad wouldn’t do such
thing, you’re lying.”
“Okay. Can I take something from my pocket?”
“Slowly, please.” There’s no trust here.
Musa slowly pulls out an old photograph. It’s somewhere
in Hluhluwe, Sbusiso Hadebe was paying him a visit,
just a couple of years ago. It was a week before their
wedding anniversary, MaMkhwanazi had sent him some
parcels.
Msindisi looks at the photograph in disbelief. What the
hell is happening? This is his dad, he is not
photoshopped, he can even recognize the outfit he had
on.
“I don’t understand,” he’s weak.
He forgets about Musa and squats on the floor, his
hands on his head. No, no, Hadebe wouldn’t do this to
them. He could’ve filed for divorce, not kill their mother
like that.
“Why? She was a good woman.” He’s confused.
He had never witnessed them even fight. They always
looked happy.
“I don’t have the whole story but I can assure you that
Phindile and usbari worked together on this. I could
have said no but I was promised heaven and earth.
When you have a background that I had, your main goal
in life is to have money so that you can save your
family.”
No. He needs some fresh air. There’s a small window,
he walks towards it with his hands on the waist and
head thrown back. He’s cursing randomly. This makes
no sense.
“Why are you saying all this now? You had many years
to come clean,” he asks, turning his head to Musa.
“Phindile kept making promises,” Musa.
“No, you’re talking because your sister can no longer
sponsor your life, she’s on the run. You’re not sorry, you
just ran out of options.”
Musa takes a deep sigh and watches until he calms
down.
“How did you find her?” Msindisi asks.
“She called me from a garage and told me that you tried
to kill her. I made arrangements and got her to a safe
place,” he says.
“Why haven’t you both turned yourself in?”
“I want my justice first,” he says.
“Your justice. Aren’t you the killer?”
“My life ended at 24, Msindisi. For what? To stay married
to a wife who has boyfriends just so she can raise
Onathi for Phindile? There’s nothing good about my life.
The cars and extravagant lifestyle was for Onathi,
Winnie just benefited as a guardian. I was taken for a
ride. Right now it’s my face on posters, I’m the evil killer.
Your dad is resting in his grave and Phindile…she still
thinks I owe her something.” He takes a deep breath,
this is not his time to vent. He’s not here to buy pity but
rather tell his side of the story. There’s nothing he’s
leaving behind if he dies but he’d like to clear his name.
“What does she want?” Msindisi asks.
“I think you can guess, you know your stepmom by
now,” he says.
“She wants you to kill me?” Msindisi is in disbelief. How
evil can one person be?
“Not you, your brother. She has a soft spot for you,”
Musa says.
“No, it’s not a soft spot.” He looks away, his lips pursed
in disgust.
It’s way more than just a soft spot.
Musa is now relaxed. He stares at Msindisi’s reaction
and chuckles. “I think she is into you. She praises you
everyday, she loves the man you’ve become.”
“We are not going there. That woman is going to pay for
what she did to my family and all the things she did to
me.” He faces Musa who’s been staring at his enraged
face. “You will give her to me, that’s the only way you
can show me that you regret what you did.”
“And I will still go to jail,” Musa says, then bites his
thumb nail.
Msindisi looks at him with a slight frown. “Stop doing
that.”
“What?” he asks.
“Biting your nail like a bitch. Where is your sister?”
“I won’t let you kill her. Trust me, you don’t need a
murder case at your age. We have to figure out
something else,” Musa says.
“We are not a team. I don’t trust you, just tell me where
she is and I will handle it. I don’t need you to worry
about me, I have an annoying brother already doing that
everyday.” He turns his back and tucks his hands in his
pockets.
Musa smiles and shakes his head. “You’re feisty. I
thought you were the soft one.”
Msindisi turns with a side-eye. “The soft Msindisi is
dead, your sister killed and buried him.”
“What exactly happened?” MaMkhwanazi hasn’t told him
why her favorite stepson tried killing her. It’s obviously
more than just Thobile’s death.
“None of your business,” Msindisi says.
“I know but if there’s one thing I know, it’s Phindile’s
manipulative ways and evil heart. I have been under her
control my whole life.” He watches as Msindisi
contemplates, in the end he returns back to his squatting
position.
“She tried something with me but it didn’t register to me
at that time. I have been under a spell because now
when I think back, I have been through some disgusting
situations with her,” he says.
“I knew it, just from the way she speaks about you,”
Musa says.
It disgusts Msindisi more that she’s going around talking
about him to his relatives. Old, ugly hag.
“Now I understand why you’re angry,” Musa says.
Msindisi looks at him, “You do?”
“Yeah. Obviously I don’t have a story that relates, I have
an arranged wife who’s having affairs all around Durban,
but I understand.”
“But you love her, it’s really different,” Msindisi says.
“Love?” He laughs.
Love has to be a choice, Winnie was never his choice.
“If I had taken control over my life, trust me it would’ve
turned out way too different. No murder case, no
woman, no problems,” he says.
Msindisi looks at him again. He should be angry at this
man but before him there were two masterminds, he
only pulled the trigger. “I thought you’d look different
than this.”
“What do you mean?” Musa asks, his thick eyebrow
curved. He hasn't aged at all.
“I thought you’re ugly. Well, that’s how I pictured you.
Old, ugly and dirty.”
“I understand, that’s a fit description because of my
past.” Their eyes lock.
Msindisi snaps and looks away. It’s been quite a
moment, for sure Nzalo is going crazy at home.
“I need to go,” he says.
Musa sighs, “Thanks for coming and not ratting me out.
It was your mother, I know you wish me the worst but
you honored your promise.”
“I want your sister, not you. Well, at least for now,” he
says.
“I have her but we need to talk about that. We’ll chat as
usual.”
“No problem, stay here until you hear me driving off.”
If Nzalo and his uncle finds out about this meeting they
will think he betrayed the family. But that’s not the case,
Musa should be the last person they worry about, the
police will handle him, “if” they find him. MaMkhwanazi
should be the main culprit here.
And the dead arsehole they used to call a dad.
.
.
.
It’s a few minutes after 11pm, Msindisi arrives home.
The lights are still on, Nzalo is sitting in the lounge about
to lose his mind. Mhlengikhaya advised him to report his
missing gun in the morning because of anything
happens, he will be held responsible.
He stands up when he hears the door opening. This boy
better have his story together.
“Uphumaphi wena? Huh?” he asks.
Msindisi turns to the kitchen and opens the fridge.
“Msindisi, I’m talking to you, damnit. Where is my gun?”
“Here,” Msindisi pulls it out from his waist.
He doesn’t even care. There’s no remorse, no apology.
“Did you commit any crime?” Nzalo asks.
“No, I did not,” he says, nonchalantly.
“Why are you taking my gun without my permission?
Who gave you that right?”
“I just gave it back to you intact. What do you want? I
didn’t use it, it’s in your hand right now.”
A deep breath is needed, otherwise their mother is going
to turn in her grave. “Where were you?” Nzalo asks
again.
“I went to see an old friend. Do I need to report when I
leave the house now? I thought this was our mother’s
house, yours is in Fairbreeze,” he says.
“If you’re taking my gun, yes you have to report to me.”
“Okay, next time.” He walks away with an apple and
yogurt tub.
Nzalo moved out after he turned 27, they haven’t lived
together in years. Maybe this is the attitude
MaMkhwanazi put up with. It’s too much for him, they
were better living apart. As much as he understands
what Msindisi is going through, his patience is running
thin. He also didn’t know that MaMkhwanazi was behind
their mother’s death. He’s just as mad but he is not
taking it out on anyone.

In his bedroom, Msindisi is done eating. He switches off

the lights and lies on his back with his knees up,
chatting. Musa got safe to wherever he lives. He just
sent him proof of MaMkhwanazi being alive. It looks like
they’re together where they are. Musa has nothing to
lose or gain at this point. After the meeting it makes
sense why he wants MaMkhwanazi dead. She took
advantage of his family situation and ruined his life.
Musa didn’t benefit anything, he would’ve been better
behind bars. But no, that wouldn’t have worked in
MaMkhwanazi’s favour. She needed him out and
traditionally married to Winnie so that Onathi would be in
good hands.

I MEANT IT, YOU REALLY LOOK GOOD- this text was

unnecessary, he’s just caught in a good chat. Hopefully
Musa doesn’t find it weird that he keeps pointing out his
looks.

THANK YOU. UNFORTUNATELY IT’S ALL GOING TO

PRISON- he responds with laughing emojis.

I GUESS YOU WILL BE SOMEONE’S TROPHY WIFE-

this is not a sensitive joke because it might be Musa’s
real fate. But they laugh it off as they exchange more
texts.

There’s a smile stuck on his face as they chats more,

they’re both silly. There’s a level of understanding Musa
has for him. It’s something he’s been looking for.
Nobody has been able to give it to him, especially not
his authoritative brother.
.
.
.
He woke up in high spirits and started off with a shower.
He is not eating out today, he’s making breakfast at
home. He comes out of his bedroom in his shorts and
long socks.
Urgh, Nzalo is in the kitchen.
“Morning,” he says.
He thought Nzalo would be at work by now.
“Sure,” Nzalo stares at him as he makes his way to the
sink. He’s tapping his fingers, slightly moving his body in
a rhythm.
Someone woke up on the right side of the bed. Sadly
Nzalo cannot say the same.
“Do you want me to move out?”
He turns his head, frowning. “Pardon?”
“Your determination to fight with me says you want me
to move out. Is that so or I’m wrong?”
“I have not done anything to you, except taking your
gun. So I don’t understand what you want from me? I’m
actually minding my own business,” he says.
“I thought we are supposed to be united,” Nzalo says.
“Only when it suits you. When it doesn’t you call your
police friends on me and keep me in the dark about
things that affect me as well. You’d rather go to
babomncane whom we didn’t even talk to until recently,
than to share things with me.”
“Okay ngiyaxolisa. Can we put that behind us? I don’t
like where our relationship is heading. You’re the only
brother that I have.”
“Fine, but I know that you are still going to shout at me
and tell me to do things without asking me how I feel,”
Msindisi says with a shrug.
Nzalo shakes his head in despair. MaMkhwanazi really
softened this boy and made him think he’s the center of
the universe. “I promise, I won’t. I will ask how you feel
before making decisions. Truce?”
“Yeah,” Msindisi nods.
Nzalo opens his hand, they shake it out.
Msindisi’s phone vibrates, he takes it out of his pocket
and checks. A resisting smile curves on his lips and
quickly disappears as he pulls his face to cover up.
“Mmmm,” Nzalo smiles and walks away.
Nale might have a new friend to gossip with. It’s about
time, Msindisi is 25 years old.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 71

Despite of everything that’s going on, Onathi still

deserves a warm home and a dad who’s sober. For the
first time in years, he drank two days in a row and got
really drunk. Yesterday he slept on the couch downstairs
with his shoes on. Onathi wasn’t okay in the morning, he
could see the fear written in her eyes. Even though
she’s a difficult child and often acts tough, he is the only
parent she has to rely on. Him losing himself in alcohol
really worries her.
After a nap, he freshens up and looks for her. He finds
her curled up on the couch, watching TV. She looks up
as his footsteps come closer.
“MaHadebe,” he says.
Onathi shifts her eyes away.
“What are you watching?” he asks, sitting next to her.
She doesn’t respond.
He sighs heavily, “I’m sorry, my princess. I’m going
through a rough time, I promise you this is not going to
be a habit at all. Today we will go out and have dinner.
And you will get the car but there will be conditions.”
She looks at him, her face brightening. “Really?”
“Yeah. Do you forgive me now?”
“Yes, but you have to accept if she wants nothing to do
with you. Don’t be desperate, you’re a hot daddy,” she
says.
He laughs at “hot daddy”. But accepting that Nokuzola
wants nothing to do with him is what he’s been
struggling with, to say the least. There’s a lot on his
mind, including identity confusion. Nokuzola didn’t raise
something he has never thought about, he did question
his paternity when everything played out. But his mother
angrily assured him that he is Hadebe, just entitled and
not fit to handle family finances. He also looks like his
father’s cousin, a Hadebe family member. Nzalo took
after him, which furtherly gave him confirmation that he
is a Hadebe. That was back then, now he’s questioning
everything again. The difference this time is that his
mother is not around to answer questions.
“I hate her,” Onathi says.
He frowns, “Who?”
“Your girlfriend, all she does is hurt you.”
It’s good to see that his daughter cares about him. But
he’s trying to build a family, hate shouldn’t be a word
anyone use.
“I made a mistake and then ruined things more by trying
to save our relationship. I should have let things happen
naturally, I just hate it when I don’t have control,
especially in a situation like that.”
“That doesn’t mean she must walk all over you and turn
you into a zombie. How many physiologic tremors have
you had everytime she speaks to you?”
“Okay, let’s drop it,” he says.
“No Xolani, you don’t have to be desperate. At this point
you’re both even, she is not better than you, she hurts
you as well. Stop sucking up to her.”
He takes a deep breath and then breaks the news to
her. “She is pregnant.”
“Whaaaat?” Oh no, she just got here and there’s already
a sibling on the way.
“She told me when she came here,” he says.
“So you’re having a baby?” She’s blinking rapidly,
looking at him shocked.
“Yes,” he nods.
She gets up and storms off. This is not the reaction he
expected. Yes, it hasn’t been long since they got to
know about each other, but a baby is not going to
change anything.
He follows her to her shut bedroom and knocks outside.
“Please Onathi, let’s talk,” he begs.
“No!!!!” Onathi yells, she’s crying.
Indeed when it rains, it pours.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

As much as I’d like to join Zola in being angry at Mr X, I

have pressing matters to discuss with him. I’m lucky he
didn’t go to work today, he’s home with Onathi. It’s been
a minute since I saw his little brat.
“Hello, trust-fund baby,” I say walking in.
“You’ve been a stranger,” she says, coming to hug me.
“I was busy with work and my other projects.”
“Oh, how is that coming? Your other projects.” She
thinks I’m talking about business projects, I was just
referring to things like sex-making and work-gossip-
collecting projects.
“Very good, thank you. Which direction to your dad?”
“Follow me right through this door, you’re lucky he is not
drunk today.”
“Mr X gets drunk?” I’m shocked.
I thought I would be the only one locked out of heaven.
“Because of your sister, obviously,” she says.
“Let’s not even go there, I will see you before I leave.” I
have spotted Mr X in his casual, floral shorts and
sunglasses by the pool. He is in his rich, black man
element.

I spot a liquor glass next to him.

“You are here already,” he says, taking his sunglasses
off. “What are you here for this time? To take my words,
twist them and lie to Nokuzola.”
Whoah, madala! He’s on high speed, I’m not here for his
affairs.
“Twist your words?” I’m confused, I thought him and I
made peace.
“Nokuzola is under the impression that I knew that she’s
pregnant and did that on purpose because you told her
so,” he says.
“I didn’t. I only told her what you told me.” I don’t see
what I did wrong. He implied that Zola will have a baby,
which has turned out to be true. That’s exactly what I
told Zola.
“Why?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you taking information back and forth? Are you
a high school girl?”
“That’s my cousin and my niece. You make it sound like
I lied.”
“You did. I only said to you, I sent my delegate to protect
my relationship and our future to make sure that our
baby arrives in a healthy home that has two parents. I
didn’t say she was pregnant, I wouldn’t have known that,
I was speaking for the future.”
To be honest, I really don’t care. I have moved past that.
“I’m not here to talk about your relationship,” I say.
“For once you are not, thank God.” He rests back on his
pool chair, “I’m listening.”
Well, it looks like we are back to square one- hating
each other’s guts.
“This is about Msindisi and I’d like it to be confidential,” I
say.
“I’m surprised you know the word. Go on,” he’s utterly
disrespectful.
But I continue. My main concern right now is him
communicating with Musa, yesterday he disappeared
with Nzalo’s gun and came at 11pm, refusing to explain
where he was.
Mr X is looking at me like I’m a pyscho, making all this
up.
“He told me,” I say.
“Are you friends?”
“I can say he trusts me.”
He sits up straight and sighs. “Nale, I hope this is not
one of your twisted, exaggerated lies.”
“You cannot believe me if you want, but I’m telling you
this because he begged me not to tell Nzalo and
knowing how Nzalo is, I know he will confront him right
away.”
“Bullshit! This boy has lost his mind. The police are
looking for Musa, instead of taking the chat to them he’s
busy hiding it.” Now he believes me.
One thing about me, I never lie, ngiwumlomo ongathethi
manga, unless necessary of course.
“How long has this been going on?” he asks.
“I don’t know, he told me last week,” I say.
“Okay, thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
I wanted to ask him to advise him against the advances
towards me but he’s not in a good mood, this might not
be the right time. One problem at a time.
“I have to get going,” I have to go home and rest. “Oh,
Mr X please keep me anonymous,” I say.
“Don’t worry, I will find a safer way to deal with it,” he
says.
.
.
.
I think Msindisi has a third eye with zoom lenses. We
haven’t spoken since we went out together and he said
what he said, but today he wants to see me. I wouldn’t
have felt some type of way towards his request if he
didn’t make the comments he made, but now it feels like
I’m betraying my boyfriend. This feels wrong but I want
to know what he wants. I don’t think Mr X has confronted
the situation yet. I hope he’s realized his mistakes and
coming here to take back his words.
Zola will judge, I just know that.
“Where are you going?” She’s looking at the pants I just
changed into.
“Outside, Msindisi is pulling up, he wants to talk,” I say.
“To toast you, you mean. Jesus Nalenhle, you know if
Nzalo finds about this he’s not just going to question his
loyalty alone but yours as well.” She doesn’t understand
because she doesn’t know Msindisi.
I know him, I know he’s going through something and
will soon get his act together. He needs support and
guidance, which I hope Mr X will provide after today.
“He could be here to apologize for his advances,” I say.
“Still, Nzalo should be aware because either way he’s
going to find out in the end. Nothing stays hidden
forever,” she says.
My phone buzzes up. I have to go, I will deal with Mary
when I come back. I hope Msindisi proves me right and
not continue with that madness of his.

The first thing I notice is a smile. I don’t know when was

the last time I saw him dressed up and glowing like this.
Msindisi’s closet can cloth a whole village. We exchange
greetings, he looks happy. I pull back when he tries
giving me a hug.
“Ouch, you’re still mad at me,” he says.
“Not really. What’s up?” I don’t want to delay this.
“Let’s get inside the car,” he says and opens the
passenger door for me.
I get inside, he enters from his side and rolls up the
windows. His car is tinted, I’m not comfortable, at this
point I do question his state of mind. Nzalo complains a
lot about his impulsiveness and rudeness.
“I hope this is important,” I say.
He chuckles, “Hhayi-bo, are we enemies now?”
“No, but you know where we stand.”
“Okay, it’s not about that. I saw Musa.”
“He sent you a picture?”
“I met him,” he says.
“Holy goat!” I have ran out of exclamation phrases.
This month it’s been bomb after bomb.
“He is not what I thought he was. I mean, he looks cute
and harmless.”
“What? He’s a murderer who faked his own death,” I
remind him.
“I know but his side of the story is understandable,” he
says.
“You mean you understand why your mother was
murdered?”
“No, not at all. I understand how he got involved, he was
hired to do it by MaMkhwanazi and the other person,” he
says.
“But we already knew that, it doesn’t make him less
guilty. What did he say? He wants forgiveness?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he nods.
“His apology should be him handing himself over.”
“He knows that but we have a situation to take care of
first. MaMkhwanazi, she is alive.” Now it’s no longer an
“I” but “we”. Wonders shall never end!
“Where is she?” I ask.
“She’s with him, she’s been sending me white lilies. She
wants Musa to kill Nzalo,” he says.
“What? No, they’re messing with the wrong one,” I say
cocking my imaginary gun. Not my boyfriend shem,
never.
“He won’t,” he assures me.
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s seen the light. MaMkhwanazi won’t know
what hits her,” he says with a little smug on his face.
“Wait Msindisi, you are now a tag-team with him?” I ask.
“Not really, I want MaMkhwanazi dead, just as he does.
She’s put us through some shit. I’m even better than
him, at least I haven’t been living my whole life as an
announced dad man in a foreign village while being tied
to an arranged wife so that she can take care of my
manipulator’s daughter.”
He has a lot of sympathy for Musa and none for his
brother. I have not seen him trying to understand his
brother or uncle to this extent. But he’s willing to open
his mind and heart for Musa. Truly awumbiwa
ndawonye.
“At this point I think you should tell Nzalo, he’s being
targeted to be murdered by the same person who
murdered his mother,” I suggest.
“It won’t happen, I will protect my brother,” he says.
No offense but even a cat wouldn’t believe if Msindisi
said he’d protect it. He doesn’t have that thing. I know
his switch can go off too but nope, this is bigger than
him.
“I’m begging you, tell him,” I say.
“No Nalenhle, I’m only telling you this because you don’t
look at me as a nobody and I trust you.” He stares into
my eyes until I give in and give him my word. “Fine, I
won’t tell,” I say.
The first person I’m calling after this is Mr X. There’s no
way I’m going to trust Msindisi with Nzalo’s life. I
wouldn’t even trust him with a cockroach’s life.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 72
NOKUZOLA

I have regretted some things I said to him but I didn’t

reach out. It’s how he does things too; hurt me and not
apologize. He hasn’t said anything since that day, this
text of him wanting to see me is the first communication
attempt. I don’t want to see him, I have nothing to say to
him and there’s nothing I want to hear from him. But now
there’s someone on the way, it changes our relationship
completely. Out of respect, my parents have to know
soon. So him and I need to have a conversation
regarding that.

I’m not going to his house, I requested to meet in a

coffee shop, which is a fair distance for both of us. Nale
went to town from work, hopefully I will be back before
her. I take a taxi and find his car already parked outside
the coffee shop.
My heart instantly gets heavy as my eyes find his table. I
know he doesn’t think about this or care to say the least,
but I loved him. I would’ve done anything to keep him
happy, that’s how much I loved him, and he knew it.
“Hi,” he gets up and pulls the chair for me.
I sit and take a deep breath. This is a public space, I
don’t want to break down or act crazy. I want us to have
a conversation as two adults expecting a baby together.
“I was going to send a car but then I thought maybe you
won’t like that,” he says.
“I’d like you to get straight to the point, please.” I want
this to be quick as possible.
If it was up to me we wouldn’t even be getting these
menus. I’m not here for muffins.
He puts down his order, I pass, the waiter goes away.
“You already ate?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer, not that it concerns him.
I think it’s obvious from my face that I don’t want any
small talks.
“I have never done this before, I don’t know where we
start and how we go about it,” he says.
“Then consult elders who are before you,” I say.
I’m younger than him, if he doesn’t know how will I
know?
“I can take care of that aspect. What I’m trying to figure
out is if I need to do anything for you, physically and
emotionally,” he says.
“Nope, nothing,” I say.
“Maternity check-ups expenses?”
“I won’t start yet,” I say.
“Is it not safe to start earlier?”
“I won’t start yet.” I don’t know which part of this is hard
for him to understand. Or is it that I’m making a
decision?
“Okay, but I have to make your life comfortable through
this.”
“You mean take care of me? Be frank,” I say.
“I don’t know what you want me to do and not want me
to do. It’s hard doing things like this but I want to be
involved.” His voice carries a ton of sadness.
For the first time it feels like he’s not above me and
making decisions.
“For now you only have to take care of the traditional
aspect of this. I will tell you when I start the maternity
check-ups and anytime I need you,” I say.
“Can I give you the car back? For the safety of both of
you.”
“No,” I refuse.
A lot of women have used public transport while
pregnant and nothing happened to them. My mother
used public transport while carrying me and here I am,
kicking.
“What can I do?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say. One thing he cannot accept is me not
needing his help. I work, I can take care of myself and
buy myself whatever I crave. I don’t need him, for now.
His coffee comes with two muffins. I won’t lie they look
good but I value my ego more.
“Do you want some?” he asks.
I look away, “Nope.”
“Don’t starve my baby,” he says, smiling.
Nope, we are not that couple. There’s no bonding over
“my baby”.
“You were right,” he says and takes a deep breath.
“About what?” I ask even though I’m never wrong.
“A lot of people don’t like me, especially those who are
supposed to, the ones I share blood with,” he says.
I really don’t want to revisit that, I said what I said, just
like he did what he did.
“I should have appreciated you more,” he says.
“Well, I’m glad you finally know that.” Hell it took him
time.
I thought it would knock his senses sooner, before we
got to this position.
“I have been knowing that, my actions may have painted
a different picture to you but there was never a time
where I felt like you deserve less,” he says.
“Then you shouldn’t have let me think that. I talked to
you, Xolani, over and over again. You could’ve at least
felt sorry for me, I sounded like a broken record, but you
still kept her in your life and made it sound like I was
delusional and insecure.” I hate his deceptive actions
more than cheating itself. I would be okay if he came
back from Hluhluwe and tried to get rid of her. That
would have been someone who is remorseful. But
Xolani didn’t do that, he kept her.
“I understand,” he says.
“Okay,” I’m not trying to have a different version of
thisconversation.
It’s okay, it’s done.
“Ngiyak’thanda Nokuzola. That’s the truth I can die for, I
love you. And I regret that my actions have made you
question that,” he says.
“They sure did and it will take time for me to trust
anybody again with my heart. I have a big heart but it’s
very fragile,” I say.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to prove how
much I love you.” Here we go again, he wants to do
everything in his power and to him that just means crazy
stunts.
“No, don’t do what is in your power,” I say.
“I’m confused,” he says.
“We are here because of your use of power, otherwise
this wouldn’t have escalated this far. So please, I don’t
want to see you doing things in your power.”
“Okay,” he says. But he still looks confused.
I also don’t know what that means exactly, he must
figure it out.
I have to get going, I left my work uniform in the washing
line.
“Are you going to “use” the other muffin?” I ask.
“No, you can take it,” he says.
“Thank you,” I grab it and make my way out.
.
.
.
XOLANI HADEBE

Nalenhle asked to stay anonymous but now Nzalo’s life

is in danger. This cannot be kept a secret from him. He
needs to stay alert until Musa and MaMkhwanazi are
caught. That’s why Nzalo is here, he’s about to find out.
Xolani offers him a drink but it’s alcoholic and this is a
coffee boy.
“I need you to keep a cool head with what I’m about to
tell you,” he says.
Nzalo slightly frowns, “What is that?”
“It’s about Musa,” he says.
“I’m listening,” he’s emotionally exhausted before even
hearing about it.
If it was up to him this would be over by now.
“Your brother has been talking to him,” Xolani says.
“Msindisi?” He’s confused.
Msindisi has never met Musa, none of them have. How
would he communicate with Musa?
“Yes, they have met as well and he disclosed that
Phindile is still alive,” Xolani says.
Nzalo’s jaw is on the floor. Is this verified information?
“Not just that, he was asked by Phindile to kill you,”
Xolani.
“Oh wow!” he laughs sarcastically.
Now he is the target? They have time to play.
“Did Msindisi tell you this?” he asks.
“No, he told Nalenhle and she told me.”
“My Nalenhle?” His finger points his chest.
The same Nalenhle he just talked to while pulling up
here?
“Yes, Msindisi asked her not to tell anybody,” Xolani
says.
“But I’m not “anybody” to Nalenhle. I’m being targeted,
someone is out there baying for my blood and my
girlfriend cannot tell me?” This makes him furious.
He’s been having problems with Msindisi. It doesn’t
surprise him that much, but Nalenhle!
“I can call her here to confirm, she came here to tell me
two days ago. Yesterday she updated me, Msindisi told
her that they have met in person,” Xolani says.
“Please, I want to hear from her.” He paces around with
his hand on his waist. “Where is that drink you offered?”
Xolani points with his head, he’s making a phone call.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Mr X has no timing but I’m on my way because he sent

a car to pick me up. Maybe he has an update, he’s
managed to put a stop to Msindisi’s madness. We pull
up and I notice Nzalo’s car on the driveway. Are we
having a family dinner?
I should have been told earlier, I would have missed
work and came to prepare salads. I’m not dressed for
occasion, I just left in my leggings, baggy T-shirt and
crocs. I make my way in, if need to be Onathi will lend
me a dress to look good at the table.
Mr X welcomes me with a glass of juice. He has his own
drink too. But I’m not smelling any stew.
“This way,” he leads me to the dining room.
I expect to walk in to a table laid and chefs standing
around. But Nzalo is pacing around with a beer in his
hand. This is not the scenario I had in mind.
I turn to Mr X, “What’s going on?”
“Oh, I just told Nzalokayise what you told me.”
What the fuck? Is he kidding me right now?
“You did what?” I’m whispering but Nzalo can see me
fine.
“I only told him what you told me,” he says.
“Wow, great!” This explains why Nzalo looks furious.
Now I’m in trouble because I tried helping this family.
I turn to him, if a look could kill, I’d be dead by now.
“I was scared to tell you,” I say.
“Scared to tell me that someone wants to kill me?” He’s
angry, there’s nothing I’m going to say that he will listen
to right now.
“Msindisi begged me not to tell you, so I told your uncle,”
I say.
“I don’t care even if the president himself begged you
not to tell me. Someone wants to kill me and you shared
a bed with me not so long ago, knowing very well that
someone is targeting me.”
“That’s not true, I only found out about that yesterday,” I
say.
“24 hours ago, I could have died anywhere in between.
Keeping a promise to Msindisi is more important than
my life to you, right?”
“No, it’s not, that’s why I told Mr X,” I say.
“But my life is in danger, not his. Why are you doing this
to me? It’s okay to care more about stupid promises, but
not when my life is threatened.”
“Fine, I’m sorry,” I say.
“No, fuck your sorry!”
This is not how I pictured this. He storms out furiously, I
will call him after an hour or so, he would be calm.

Now back to this coffin-dodger, I can’t believe he’s

expecting a child and acting so childish. There was no
need for this.
“I was helping your family,” I’m annoyed.
“And I appreciate that malokazana wakwami. Have I
done anything wrong?” he asks with a smug look on his
face. He’s enjoying this.
“I asked you not to tell Nzalo, at least not directly. And
you went ahead, downloaded everything I told you in
confidence to him, then called me to come and witness
everything going down. Yini? Nothing stays in your
chest? A horse kicked you?”
He laughs, “You are so funny. I didn’t do anything wrong
to be honest. I just took the information you gave me to
him.”
“To gain what? You could have solved this
without….Mxm, why am I even explaining this to you?”
I’m not standing for the smug look on his face, he lacks
common sense. He is what people call an old fool and
I’m never going to speak to him again.
Now I have to figure out how I plead my case to Nzalo.
Mr X will regret this.
2023/10/10, 11:18 - TSI: HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 73

Nzalo walks in and kicks the door behind him. Msindisi

looks up from the lounge sofa where he’s playing video
games. He can see that Nzalo looks ready to fight.
That’s just the latest norm, nothing unusual in this
house.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“I thought you were just dealing with the new harsh
reality but now I realize you are actually turning into an
enemy. My own brother!” Nzalo paces around the sofa,
rubbing his hands together. He needs to move,
otherwise this will start badly.
Msindisi looks at him, for now he’s confused.
“You met with someone who murdered our mother, now
planning to take me out as well, and my own brother
won’t even warn me. What is it? You want me dead.”
Msindisi sighs. “So that's what this is about? Hhayi-bo
relax, nobody wants you dead except MaMkhwanazi.”
“I didn’t even know that she’s alive, you told us that you
killed her. I have been going around unarmed this whole
week, anything could have happen to me.”
“But he doesn’t intend to kill you, that’s why I didn’t tell
you,” Msindisi says.
“You told my girlfriend and asked her not to tell me. But
I’m not addressing that right now, it will follow.” It will
take a miracle for him to ever trust Msindisi again. This
is not a joke, there’s a serious murder case going on
and two people on the run- supposedly.
“You are not dead because I’m making sure that doesn’t
happen,” Msindisi says. There’s no remorse from his
side. He’s handled this well so far, Musa even agreed to
change MaMkhwanazi’s location.
“I don’t care, if anyone told me that someone was
planning to kill you the first thing I’d do is let you know
so that you stay alert. This is bullshit, unikela ngami
ezitheni wena. If Nale didn’t tell babomncane, would I
have ever known about this?”
“You are yelling so I’m going to withdraw from the
conversation,” Msindisi says and goes back to his video
game. This is just one example of the reasons why he
finds it hard to talk to Nzalo. The pacing around, firm
and raised voice. This is not how he wants to be talked
to.
“Why did you tell Nalenhle?” Nzalo asks.
“Because I felt comfortable telling her,” he says.
“That’s fine but what is not fine is you teaching my
girlfriend to keep secrets from me. Why are you creating
trust issues between us? What is your intention?”
Msindisi pauses with a frown and looks at him. “That’s
ridiculous. How am I creating trust issues?”
“By telling her something that concerns my life and
safety, then ask her not to tell me. You have constantly
disrespected my relationship, which I let slide most of
the times. But not this, you have no right to ask my
girlfriend to keep secrets from me. Just like you had no
right to get her drunk and no right to just take her out to
a club without asking me how I feel about.”
“Oh, that made you angry? You could have just
mentioned it. But Nalenhle is a grown woman, she can
go out with whoever she wants without asking for your
permissions. And so do I.”
Nzalo nods vigorously and counts a few breaths before
taking a seat. Now he knows where he stands with
Msindisi. This is not a brother-looks-out-for-a-brother
situation. He is on his own and the sooner he accepts
that, the less expectations he will have.
“You know this is what dad and babomncane went
through. I didn’t think our relationship would turn out like
this too. But now you’ve made it clear. Ever since I took
over the company, you have never respected me, which
is fine because it’s our business, anything that affects it,
affects both of us. You are disrespecting my relationship
every chance you get and now befriending people who
have told you that they want me dead.”
“You are very quick to play victim. When you had your
own meltdown for two weeks straight, holding people
hostage and running DNA tests, who was running the
business?”
“You did, as expected to be,” Nzalo says.
“And now you cannot understand when I need time out
because I’m not in a good mental space?”
“Hey wena, I asked you when do you plan to come back
to work and you said whenever you feel like. Sometimes
it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it,” Nzalo says.
“Oh, now it’s not disrespect, it’s how I say things? Okay,
fine. When you held MaMkhwanazi hostage did you
allow me to see her when I asked to?”
“I didn’t because I didn’t trust you at that moment. You
didn’t even believe that she was guilty of something, you
wanted her home,” Nzalo says.
“Okay, I also don’t trust you at the moment," he says.
“This has nothing to do with trust, you just have to care
enough. But I understand you don’t owe me anything, I
will look out for myself. What I will appreciate from you,
now onwards, is just you staying away from Nalenhle.”
“I will, if she tells me to stay away from her,” Msindisi
says.
“Are you sure you want it to take that turn?” Nzalo gets
up, rolling his sleeves.
Msindisi remains seated and unbothered.
“You will stay away from Nalenhle. Do you hear me?”
Nzalo grabs him up with his T-shirt.
He’s still not bothered.
“Do you understand? Do your thing but keep my name
and my girlfriend out of it.” He’s about to throw a fist,
Xolani makes his way in and pushes him away. Even
though they didn’t come to a conclusion, they heard
each other.
Now he’s here with his two cents.
Msindisi gets in the staring contest with him.
“You are fucking up and messing with your brother’s life.
This is not the time to prove your power, your mother’s
life was taken, now your brother’s is threatened,” he
says.
“Is it only you and him who can have a say and make
decision regarding the situation?”
“No, we have to collectively do it,” Xolani says.
“Did you tell Nzalo that when he excluded me?”
“Nobody was threatening your life, that’s a total different
situation. When was the last time he contacted you?”
Msindisi folds his arm and looks away. He is not
participating in this gang-up interrogation.
“Are you aware that you can go to jail for this?” Xolani
asks.
Silence!
“Msindisi, I’m talking to you,” -Xolani.
Undisturbed silence!
Nzalo gives him a look; this is what he deals with
everyday.
“Can I have his number?” he asks.
Msindisi remains silent. Xolani realizes that this won’t be
fruitful, now he will have no choice but to violate
Msindisi’s privacy and put him under watch. Taking it to
the police won’t help the situation, Nzalo has taken him
down that road and that’s one of the things that make
him mad.
“Okay, you don’t want to talk about it. What would you
like to see happening now? Do you guys still want to live
together?”
He doesn’t speak. Xolani turns his eyes to Nzalo.
“I’m moving back to my house,” Nzalo says.
“Are you okay being here on your own or you want to
move in with me?” he asks Msindisi.
He’s met with the same silence. He has wanted to be a
father his whole life and now, out of the blue, his brother
leaves him with Msindisi and Onathi pops up. He’s
definitely getting wrinkles and health problems soon
from these two.
He looks at Nzalo and asks, “When are you moving
out?”
“Today, I only have my clothes and electronics to pack,”
Nzalo says.
“I will be here until you separate,” he says.
Msindisi has returned to his video-game. His attitude
has never been like this before. If no intervention is
done, he will get out of control and lose everyone close
to him. There has to be cameras all around this house
capturing every move he makes.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Nzalo moved back to Fairbreeze, this is exactly what I

feared. I trusted the wrong person, someone who can’t
even respect his relationship. He’s ruined the
brotherhood and I know Nzalo blames me, while
Msindisi regrets our friendship. If there was no baby on
the way I would have ruined his relationship with Zola
too. Something he already accuses me of but not even
once have I ever said anything against him to Zola. I
have made fun of him, yes. Also criticized his generosity
and age shamed him. But I have never tried to break
them apart.

I’m here uninvited, Nzalo hasn’t spoken to me since

yesterday. I don’t know how I’m going to convince him
that I didn’t keep Msindisi’s secret because I wanted
something bad to happen to him.
He lets me inside with a hard face that screams “bitch,
you’re not welcome.” I make my way in, we haven’t been
here in a long time. I have my overnight bag packed with
a set of sexy underwear. He sits on his laptop after
exchanging a cold greeting.
I assign myself to the kitchen and make a cup of coffee.
I serve it with cheese sandwich.
He looks up when I put it in front of him. A way to a
man’s heart is through his stomach, right?
“This is not going to work Nale,” he says.
“What’s not going to work? I’m just giving you coffee.”
“You can’t break my heart and fix my stomach.”
“But how did I break your heart? I did what I thought was
the best. I told your uncle, I didn’t want Msindisi lose his
trust in me.”
“Whose girlfriend are you?” he asks.
“Yours,” I say.
“What did you tell Msindisi for him to think that he can
come between us?”
“How did he come between us?” I’m confused.
“Him telling you things and asking you to keep them
from me is him coming between us. So I want to know
why you gave him that platform? He’s disrespected me
enough and you’re the one enabling his behavior.”
At this point I think even the Titanic sank because of me.
Everyone just blames me when things go wrong in their
lives. How the hell did I make Msindisi disrespect him?
“I have done nothing but what's best for the both of you,”
I say.
“When did you plan going out with him last Friday?”
I’m not sure why this is coming up.
“I can’t remember,” I say.
“Neither one of you thought it was okay to ask me. You
only told me when you were about to leave, Msindisi
didn’t say anything. Not very long ago I had asked you
to make boundaries. Why am I getting so much
disrespect?”
“But if you didn’t want me to go out with him you could
have just told me so.” Oh my goodness, I can’t believe
he’s been boiling these things in. I thought he said he
will communicate better now.
“And what difference would it have made? You had
already made your plans. Now I want to know what you
told him about me for him to think you can hide things
from me?”
“I didn’t say anything,” I say.
“You’re friends, right? That’s what you call it. I also have
friends and they have never said or done anything that
could offend or harm you and then trusted me not to let
you know. Do you know why? Because they know that
you come first, your injury is my injury.”
But I told his fuckin’ uncle, I was protecting him. How
many times have I advised Msindisi to respect him?
How did I give him a platform to disrespect Nzalo?
“Do you love me?” he asks.
“Of course I do.” I never come to a guy’s house
uninvited and start serving them food like a wife.
I’m only here because I love him.
“If you found out that information about Zola I know that
you would’ve told her without any hesitation. Nobody
can say anything to you about Zola, you take it straight
to her. But everyone can talk to you about me. They can
even plan to kill me and you won’t advise me to stay
armed and alert.”
“He is your brother, I didn’t want to ruin your
relationship,” I say.
“He already ruined it, I will never trust him again. And I
want your friendship or whatever you call it to end,” he
says.
“That’s not fair though, now you want me to inherit your
family feuds. You share blood, next week you can make
peace, where will that leave me?” Not so long ago he
had a shaky relationship with Mr X and now they have
made peace.
“Nalenhle, you said you love me. I want you to stick by
my side. Someone is out there planning my murder, this
is a war. And there are no neutral grounds in a war; if
you are not on my side, you are the enemy,” he says.
“I'm not your enemy. Msindisi is not your enemy either,
he wants to fight for you. He wants to prove himself to
you and the way you keep shutting him down is not
helping the situation. Give him a little voice, please baby.
Even if you are not hearing him, for once pretend like
you hear him and you believe in him. You’re not a good
listener and that’s the problem.”
“So being a good listener is going to protect me from
being killed? He killed my mother and now he’s my
brother’s best friend. And you want to put that on me?”
Fuck, this man is so stubborn! This shouldn’t have been
so complicated. He’s moved out, Mr X is obviously on
his side, this is exactly what’s going to push Msindisi to
Musa’s company.
“All I’m saying is that you could have listened to him
calmly, gotten his side of the story and his plans. Then
pretended to support his plans, regardless of how stupid
you think they are, that way he would have trusted you.
Don’t you think you will win this battle by being united as
brothers? Msindisi wants justice, just like you, but you
keep shutting him down.”
“Msindisi is disrespectful, I have been a bigger person
and now I’m tired,” he says.
Isn’t he the bigger person by birth anyway? I don’t think
he will hear me, no matter how hard I try to explain this
to him.
“I don’t want you to talk to him again, he will end up
doing something that’s going to ruin our relationship for
good,” he says.
“And what is that?” I ask.
“The same thing that our father did to babomncane. I
can see that’s where he’s going and I don’t want it to get
to that point because there will be no coming back.” He
picks the coffee he rejected not so long ago. He takes a
sip and then puts it back.
He looks at me, “It’s cold.”
“Okay,” I’m not surprised. That’s how coffee is; it gets
cold if you don’t drink it immediately.
“Wow!” he gets up and takes it to the kitchen.
Wait, was I supposed to go and make him another one?

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 74
MSINDISI

He’s on their side but they think he is not. He cannot

shake off the feeling that he’s being watched. He bought
a new phone and got a simcard from the roadside,
already registered on someone else’s name. He can no
longer use his phone to communicate with Musa. They
have to meet tonight, he will hire a car to go to him, he
doesn’t trust any of the vehicles in the yard.
He’s about to make something to eat when Xolani
arrives with cooked food. Their relationship was not
solid, he didn’t expect him to choose his side. But he
didn't have to blatantly take Nzalo’s side, he could have
at least stayed neutral.
“How is it going?” he asks, putting the food container on
the counter.
“I’m okay,” Msindisi says.
Xolani looks at him. “Where are you going?”
“Out,” he says.
“Out where?”
Sigh!
“Can I help you with anything babomncane?” He doesn’t
want to be interrogated. He’s an adult, he can go out
without informing anyone.
“No, I just brought you dinner. I’m sure you are not
cooking here.”
“Thanks,” he says.
Xolani’s eyes don’t leave him, he suspects something.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“No, you can’t,” he says.
Xolani heaves a deep sigh.
“You know Onathi was confused and angry when she
moved in with me. We didn’t get along, we still have our
moments, but things got better once she started seeing
a therapist."
“Good for her,” Msindisi says.
“I think it can also work for you.”
“I don’t need therapy,” Msindisi says.
“What is it that you want? Justice, we all want that.
Phindile is Onathi’s mother but she understands why I
want her in jail. Can’t we all put our differences aside
and work together on this?”
“What have I done wrong babomncane? Why are you
addressing me and telling me that I need therapy? If it
wasn’t for me you wouldn’t even know what they are
planning.”
“If it wasn’t for you Phindile wouldn’t have escaped, she
wouldn’t be in a position to plan anyone’s murder. Do
you not see why your brother feels betrayed?”
“No, because if he had let me see her when I asked to, I
would have gotten my answers from her and maybe I
would have healed. We are here because Nzalo never
give me the benefit of a doubt. He knows that my story
with ncane is deeper. He left Lwethu and I in her care
two years after our mother’s death.”
“Okay, I understand,” Xolani says.
“Good, because I don’t want to keep explaining myself
to someone who never listens to me. Now he’s mad that
I talk to Nale instead of asking himself why I’d be
comfortable with someone I’ve only known for half a
year over him.”
“Is it okay if I call a meeting with both of you?” Xolani
asks.
“No, he moved me out of dad’s house and brought me
here, knowing how much I fear being alone here.
Something he can also relate to, because he only slept
here if he had Nale’s company. But now he’s moved out
and gone back to Fairbreeze. I don’t want any meeting, I
want to be left alone,” he says.
“Okay,” Xolani nods.
He’s trying his best. Msindisi has his own side of the
story, it’s different from Nzalo’s. Until they calm down
and listen to each other, nothing will be resolved.
.
.
.

This may not be what a real restaurant would look like

but he’s tried his best to imitate the atmosphere. A car
drops Musa outside, Msindisi opens the gate and lets
him in. He booked this place for the night. It’s very
secure and secluded, there’s enough privacy for the
fugitive to have a free night. The plan is to discuss
everything regarding MaMkhwanazi.
Msindisi now owns an illegal firearm since Nzalo took
his gun. They’ve been talking for some time and have
mutual understanding, but trust is still not solid.
Musa has a black raincoat pulled down to his forehead.
He takes it off as soon as they’re inside.
“No cameras?” he asks.
“No, they have them outside but I turned off the outside
light,” Msindisi says.
“Okay.” He takes his shoes off and sits down with a
heavy sigh.
He’s been living like this for the past decade. It gets
stressful, especially now that his story is known all over
the country.
“How is Winnie?” Msindisi asks.
He chuckles, “I don’t know, man.”
“Do you still talk?” Msindisi.
“She has to survive, with Phindile dry and missing in
action, there’s really nothing to reach out for. But I
believe she’s good.” Winnie switched side, he knows
that if she finds out where he is she will run to the police.
It’s what good for her image right now.
“Wena? You’ve been sour this week,” he says.
Msindisi chuckles, “Sour? I have been just a bit upset
about certain things.”
“Let me guess, your brother?”
“I dislike him,” Msindisi says.
“Is it that bad?” Musa asks.
“I will never be good at anything in his eyes. I had
someone I was talking to, generally, and that pissed him
off because she’s his girlfriend, so he told her not to ever
speak to me again.”
“Maybe he doesn’t trust you. I mean, who would trust his
cute brother around his girlfriend?”
“She’s loyal to him, so it’s no use,” Msindisi shrugs.
“How do you know that she’s loyal? Have you tested
her?”
“Not really,” Msindisi says but his face betrays him.
Musa laughs. “Yes, you did. You’re a player!”
“I’m not a player, trust me. I have just been going
through a lot and she was the only person who seemed
to care. She’s a good girl but I suck when it comes to
girl, she’s right for him.”
Musa frowns, “You can’t handle girls?”
“It’s complicated,” he says.
“If there’s anyone who understands complicated
relationships, it’s me. I’m registered dead, traditionally
married to a beautiful woman that my family chose for
me, whom I can count with my hands the number of
times we’ve had sex.”
“Okay, that sounds worse. I’m sorry, okay?”
Musa laughs, “Now you’re sorry for me and not yourself.
I’m sorry for both of us.”
Msindisi stands up, “Instead of feeling sorry for
ourselves let’s eat, put on some music and have drinks.
We will pretend we are in a restaurant.”
“I see, you also have a bar.” He makes his way to the
table and grabs a beer from the bucket of ice.

The food section looks even better. For once it feels like
he’s a normal man, Msindisi puts on some music. It feels
like they’re two old friends having a house party.
“I really don’t want you to kill her,” he says.
“Why?” Msindisi asks.
Their voices are raised because the music is a bit loud.
“Because you will go to jail. I’m going in for a long time
anyway, I’m already guilty of murder,” he says.
“There’s nothing for me outside, I won’t mind going in for
avenging my mother.”
“You have a family,” Musa says.
“They don’t care about me, so it doesn’t matter.”
“No, I’m not going to let you do it. You can be there but
you won’t pull the trigger. I appreciate how kind you
have been to me, I don’t even deserve your kindness.”
“It’s all good man,” Msindisi says.
He finds himself wrapped in Musa’s arms. It will never
make sense to anyone. This is the man who killed his
mother, somehow filling the void he’s had ever since
MaMkhwanazi broke his trust in everything that’s
breathing. Musa is a bit tipsy now, he’s not letting go of
him.
“Thank you,” he keeps saying.
Msindisi slightly pushes him back. “I really hope you will
be good.”
“I will be,” he pulls me back to his arms. “She said “God
please protect my children”. It has haunted me every
year, I swear I’m not harming her son.”
Msindisi keeps quiet, his eyes are tearing. Musa starts
apologizing as he recalls Thobile’s last moments. He
had never taken a life before, it was not easy as he
thought it was going to be. His life has never been the
same after that day. His light died with her.
“I’m not a hitman, I’m just a man who made bad
decisions. And I know that your life would have turned
out differently if it wasn’t for me,” he says.
Msindisi sniffs back tears, “I hear you.”
Musa lifts his face up and wipes tears in his eyes.
“Now do you understand why I don’t want you to do it?”
Msindisi nods. It’s heavy but he accepts it. There’s
nothing much to look forward to in life now, he feels lost.
But Musa is right, jail isn’t a better choice either.

Musa is going hard on the booze and that worries him.

He wanted them to have fun, not to get wasted. He
hides the raincoat with a gun. It only takes a while
before Musa is snoring in bed. He sits on the other side
staring at him. It could end up in different scenarios. He
can call Nzalo to come and meet Musa for the first time.
But Nzalo has zero faith in him. Nzalo will never see him
as anything other than a stupid little boy. Nzalo will
never give him a chance, he’s always undermined him.
So he puts the pillow behind his back and shuts his
eyes.
.
.
.
Musa is groaning beside him.
“Fuck, my neck!”
He chuckles, “It’s how you wake up after drinking your
soul away.”
“And how do you explain how you woke up?” Musa
says, looking at his pants.
He quickly pulls up the covers. Jeez, this is
embarrassing. There were many times he needed his
dick to do this, just not today.
“It’s a cold morning, man,” he says.
“Is it?” Musa laughs and gets up.
He needs to brush his teeth, his mouth is sour.
Msindisi waits a few minutes and then goes to the
bathroom. Musa was only going to brush his teeth so he
didn’t expect to find him naked. He’s a well-structured
man, not that he has any right to be appreciating
another man’s body.
Musa turns his eyes, “Hey.”
“I was coming to take a shower but I will wait.”
“At the door?” Musa asks, smirking.
His eyes run to the wall. This is fucked up.
Musa gently pulls him in and shuts the door.
“I know you feel something,” he says.
“It’s wrong, I’m not into men and even if I was, you’d be
the last person I’d want to have something with,”
Msindisi says.
“I know but…” Musa cups his face in his hands and
smashes a kiss on his lips.
He wants to refuse, this is not who he is, but his lips
have parted, allowing Musa to kiss him. He locks away
all the doubts, the wrongs and rights. And does what his
body feels is right at the moment.
“I’m also hard,” Musa says.
He quickly strips off his clothes before Musa pushes him
against the wall. Their lips meet again, they slowly kiss
each other while they exchange strokes on their hard
male parts. He’s never heard a man moan so close to
his ears before but somehow it really turns him on. The
kiss becomes more deep as the pace of their strokes
increases.
“Oooh fuck!” He’s getting close.
Musa lets go and starts rubbing his dick against his.
Skin to skin. It feels different and good. He doesn’t want
this to end but he can barely keep it together.
He nuts on Musa’s thigh, his whole body trembles, his
voice breaks apart. Musa strokes himself and follows
right after him. He’s cursing as his body releases him.
Msindisi is now facing the wall, breathing heavily. He’s
ashamed of himself. Out of all places he could have
regain his sexual abilities, Musa should’ve been the last
place.
How does he ever go back from this?
“Let’s take a shower,” Musa says.
“Sure,” he’s still facing the wall.
.
.
.
NALENHLE
I really don’t know why Mr X is disturbing my lunch and
calling me. He betrayed me, there’s nothing for us to talk
about.
“What do you want?” I answer.
“This is your future father-in-law.”
“And I’m your ex-girlfriend’s aunt, so what’s up?” I know
it hurts him thinking about his relationship in the past. I
know Zola will forgive him, her anger is slowly subsiding,
but I shall enjoy this until it lasts.
“I need your help,” he says.
“My help?” I laugh.
It didn’t take that long, did it?
“You can’t really hold what happened against me. Nzalo
had every right to know and it’s what you also do to me.
Let’s just move on.”
Move on? This man needs to research about me a little
bit more.
“What can I help you with?” I ask.
“Nokuzola is not speaking to me, as you know. I just
want to buy her the things that she likes and I don’t
know what to buy. I have to feed my baby regardless of
how she feels,” he says.
Let me think, what does Zola hate at the moment?
“Umh, she likes fried fish and chicken polony. If you buy
her that, she will be very happy,” I say.
“She likes muffins and oranges as well, right?” he asks.
“Not so much, but you can buy that too, as long as you
make sure that you also bring fried fish and chicken
polony.” The way Zola is mad at fish and polony these
days, she will smell them right from the plastic and throw
up. Once she’s done throwing up, her mood will drop to
zero and she will curse him to the nearest old-age
home.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he says.
My middle name is “petty”, he will pay dearly for what he
did to me.
“You’re welcome, Mr X.”

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 75
NOKUZOLA

I answer the door thinking it’s Nale coming back. But it’s
my cheating babydaddy, I don’t know what brings him
here without notifying me. Maybe he’s here for Nale
about the Hadebe ongoing feud.
“Nale is not home,” I say.
“I’m here to see you. Can I come in?” There’s something
in the shopping bag that’s making me nauseous. I don’t
know why he’s here with a shopping bag because I don’t
remember asking him for anything. Anything I want, I get
for myself.
“I didn’t want to come empty-handed,” he says with a
nervous chuckle.
My face is always pulled, little things piss me off, I have
crazy mood swings.
“How are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m good. What’s in the shopping bag?”
“I have a few things that I thought you might like.” He
puts it on the counter and takes out the contents. I see a
silver foil, the smell hits my nose, and everything in my
stomach turns.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I have never seen anyone more stupid. Out of
everything he thought I’d like fish. Fish!
I almost throw up on the floor but I manage to hold it in
until I reach the bathroom. Throwing up always leaves
my stomach aching, that’s why I do my best to avoid
fish.
“Here is water,” he says behind me.
“Are you crazy? Why would you bring me fish?”
“I’m really sorry, Nale said you like it and polony.”
What the fuck? Since when does he trust Nale?
“Get rid of it, now Xolani!” I don’t want to go back to the
kitchen and find fish and polony.
He rushes out. I rinse my mouth and wash my face. He
could’ve left me alone like I asked him to. But no, he
always wants to disrespect me, that’s why he asked
Nale what I like and came here pretending like he just
came up with it. Nale doesn’t like him and he’s stupid
enough to ask her what I like. Now I’m part of their
stupid rivalry.

I find him on the couch sitting with shame. The last thing
he should be doing is pissing me off and he can avoid
that by simply listening to me and respecting what I say.
“I’m really sorry,” he says.
“Okay,” I rest back on the couch.
My stomach hurts all because of him.
“Can we go and buy what you like? I know I shouldn’t
have bought you anything, you don’t consent to it. But I
really wanted to,” he says.
“I’m not dressed, I don’t want to go out,” I say.
“But you look beautiful, you don’t need to dress up.”
“I do, I don’t want to be pregnant and messy looking in
public.”
“In my eyes you will never look messy. But I can help
you fix your hair, if that’s going to give you a little
confidence.”
“So my hair looks messy?” I ask.
He smiles, “No, I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what you implied. The comb is in the drawer
in my bedroom,” I say.
He fetches it and comes back with hair food as well. I
don’t know who taught him how to comb a woman’s hair.
Robyn, maybe.

I love how my hair food smells though, so I’m smiling.

He separates my hair into four sections and then applies
hair food.
“Who taught you this?” I ask.
“I have a daughter,” he says.
“Yeah, but she doesn’t have long hair.”
“I still help her with it,” he says.
I will take that, I’m enjoying his touch. He massages my
scalp gently and rubs my hair. I’d pay to have him do my
hair everyday. I don’t even feel the comb, that’s how
gently he is.
“Nokuzola,” he peeps to my face.
I open my eyes, “I’m not asleep.”
“Okay, I’m almost done,” he says.
I don’t want this to be over. I touch the back that he’s
done intentionally rough so that he will start afresh. He
gasps without confrontation and starts all over again. I’m
dozing off, I can’t help it.

Air blows on my face, I open my eyes. It’s him waking

me up. I’m pregnant for fuck’ sake!
“I’m sorry but we have to go, that’s why I did your hair
and you’ve fallen asleep,” he says.
“You could’ve let me sleep, food is not that important.”
I’m irritated.
I didn’t even promise him that I will go. I look at myself in
the mirror. I don’t know what kind of hair bun this is. It
could have been on top or behind, not at the side.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
I don’t know when was the last time I laughed this hard.
What is there to like? I can’t believe all that smooth
process had this ending. I thought he was doing
something beautiful, that’s how it felt like.
“It’s unique,” that’s all I can say.
I have to get a jacket and change my shoes.
.
.
.

I know that he only brought me here for food but I’m

already in the store, I might as well throw some
cosmetics in the trolley. These white-owned stores have
satanic pulls, that’s why he’s now pushing a full trolley. I
don’t even feel bad because he forced me to come here,
I wouldn’t have seen all these things if I was indoors.
He pays, we make our way to the parking lot and he
loads everything in the car. I stand at the side and enjoy
a bag of sweet chilli chips.
“You don’t want us to grab something to eat?”
“No, I have everything.” I got food from the kiosk, I don’t
need anything more.
He opens my door, I get in and check up on Nale. She’s
sinking down with the Hadebe ship but I warned her
from the very beginning. Her friendship with Msindisi
was a recipe for disaster.
Well, she’s sleeping out again. I hope she doesn’t end
up pregnant like me, she’s forever with Nzalo.

My chips and water keep me occupied until we get back

home. I guess now he’s just helping me in with the
grocery and leaving.
“Onathi is about to call me at anytime now, she doesn’t
want me out of her sight,” he says with a boasting smile
on his face. I’m happy his relationship with his daughter
is improving but Onathi has been nothing but bratty to
me. Right now I don’t care about her.
“Winnie is coming over for dinner, I really thought you’d
be present when it happens,” he says.
“Why would I be present? It has nothing to do with me,” I
ask.
“Onathi considers her a mother, which means at some
point I have to co-parent with her. I don’t want to ever do
anything behind your back. I want everything to be
transparent, every relationship that I have,” he says.
“But I’m just a babymama like her.”
I see a twinge of pain in his eyes. “No, you’re more than
that.”
“So you don’t believe me when I break up with you?” I
ask.
“I do but I don’t accept it,” he says.
“You don’t have to accept it to be a reality.”
“I know,” he says and locks his eyes with me.
He’s wearing a white curved cap and a short-sleeved
white T-shirt. Short-sleeved T-shirts always look good on
his buffed up arms. But I’m not the only one who’s been
in these arms, so it doesn’t matter anymore.
“Nothing can ever justify what I did, the word sorry is too
small for the big mistake that I made. I deserve
everything coming at me right now. Every second away
from you is like a dagger in my heart. I feel lost and
incomplete. I have been anxious most of the times, I am
burdened by my stupid habits and immaturity. And all I
ask from you right now is a chance to become a better
man for you.”
“You have to become a better man for yourself, Xolani,” I
say.
“You are what makes Xolani,” he says.
“I don’t know, you lost my trust. I do believe all human
beings are flawed, but what matters is what you do after
committing a mistake. I get mad everytime I think about
how you behaved after you came back from Hluhluwe.
I’m struggling to forgive you for that. Yes, I’m younger,
but don’t insult my intelligence like that.”
“I understand and I respect every emotion you feel and
need to process,” he says.
“I don’t know if I will come to dinner but send me the
details and I will decide.”
“Thank you,” he says with a deep sigh of relief.
It wasn’t a yes, I’m yet to decide.
“I miss you, Nokuzola,” he says.
“I bet you do.” I open the cupboard to pack my grocery.
He smiles, “Don’t forget to recommend me as your
hairstylist to your friends.”
I laugh; this style won’t last a second on the pillow.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I’m still trying to gain Nzalo’s forgiveness. At home they

don’t know how far I go for a man. Today I dug into my
pockets and bought him a necklace. I bought a huge
box and wrapped it up. I will cook and surprise him with
it later.
I notice a strange car parked outside the house. A guest
will ruin my plans, I have a lot planned and timed
perfectly. I walk in and recognize the two guests. It’s the
friends I have seen before, I don’t know why he didn’t
tell me that they’re here because he knew I’d be coming
here too. I think he’s just patronizing me because he’s
still holding my wrongdoings against me.
I don’t remember their names, I greet them.
“We haven’t seen you in a minute,” one says.
“He hides me,” I say.
“You can say that again, he never brings you to any of
our gatherings. You need to meet my madam, I’m sure
you will like each other,” he says.
I have a bunch of friends but I can’t say I’m not I’m a
good friend. I’m only good for vibes, but I’d gladly meet
his madam if Nzalo invites me.

I leave them and head to the bedroom. I don’t know why

Nzalo didn’t tell them that we have plans, this is delaying
my plans.
I open the door and call him with a tone of urgency.
He comes, “What is it?”
“I want you to help me lift the bed.”
He frowns, “Why are you lifting the bed?”
“My earrings fell down and slide under it.” I close the
door and follow him closely behind.
He turns his head, looking more confused.
“They went under the bed?”
I smile, “I was lying.”
“What?”
“I miss you.”
He sighs, “Nale be serious.”
“I am. Can I touch you here?” I put my hands around his
waist and push one into his pants.
He lifts my face, “Nalenhle, are you okay?”
I stroke his shaft until it wakes up. Now it’s obvious why I
called him here. He can say no and I will stop and let
him go back to his friends. But he’s not stopping me, I
kneel down and wrap my hand around his shaft. Then
connect my lips to the hand and move both
simultaneously, up and down.
“Your mouth feels good baby, don’t stop,” he says.
I suck him like his shaft is my favorite popsicle. His
hands grab my hair, I suck every moan out of his chest
until they turn into low groans. I know exactly when to
pull away; I dodge his load.
He lies on his back on the bed with his eyes shut. I bring
him the towel and then kiss his cheek.
“How long before you let me bend over for you again?” I
whisper in his ear.
He opens his eyes and smiles. “Huh?”
I know that he heard me; I wink.

I fix myself and make my way to his friends.

“I asked him to fix my hairdryer,” I tell them.
“Oh, no problem.” They’re relaxed.
I look at the one who wants me to meet his girlfriend.
“What does she do for a living?” I ask.
His answer will determine whether I want to meet her or
not.
“She does house work,” he says.
“House work?” I’m a bit confused.
“Domestic work,” he says.
He doesn’t sound sure. Does he not know what his
girlfriend does for a living?
“Does she have kids?” I ask.
“It’s complicated,” he says.
A lot is going on in his life, I should stop asking
questions.
“What about you?” This is the last question, directed to
the quiet friend.
But Nzalo comes back before I can get all the their
personal information. Why is he walking like he has a
boil on his inner thighs?
“Sorry gents, I was fixing the bathroom door handle,” he
says.
Door handle? I give up!
“Not the hairdryer?” his friend asks.
He looks at me, his mouth dropped open. I have to
check what’s happening in the kitchen. I remove myself
from the confusion.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 76

Msindisi knows how much she loved him. He was her

favorite among the three and she showed him love in
every way possible. She’d never think of harming him.
She didn’t raise him to be violent and she thought he’d
realize his mistake sooner. But no, Musa has confirmed
that the boy really wants her dead. And that has brought
her to a sad conclusion, Msindisi has to follow Thobile
because that’s who he recognizes as a mother now.
He’s forgotten what they’ve been through together. Yes,
she had Thobile killed, but she made up for it by raising
her kids. They have a legacy not because of their father,
she was the brain behind everything and that’s why
Xolani will never forgive her. He knows that everything
Sbusiso had would’ve been his, had she stuck with him.

Her trust on Musa is slowly declining because right now

he has nothing to lose or gain. But so far, so good. She’s
been getting updates about everything they discuss with
Msindisi. Wednesday she will face Msindisi for the first
time since he attempted to kill her. It will be hard
because he still has a soft spot in her heart.
“What’s happening with you?” she asks, Musa’s
obsession with his phone is nauseating.
Musa looks up, smiling. “I just saw a picture of Lwethu.
She looks happy with her real father.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re chatting to her. I don’t trust
the Hadebes,” she says.
“That’s your child, Phindile.” He knows his sister but
sometimes she shocks him too.
Lwethu is not just a Hadebe, she’s her only child.
“Trust me, Xolani has already poisoned her mind.
Msindisi is the only child I had faith in.” She heaves a
low sigh. “He was my baby, he taught me how to love
and exercise patience.”
“Well, he’s no longer a baby now, he’s a man,” Musa
smiles and glances at his phone.
His behavior has been very suspicious lately. They’re
planning a second murder, this is not the time for him to
be spreading his hard cheeks, smiling like a fool.
“He is a baby, always will be,” she says.
“I have seen him as a man,” Musa insists with that
stupid smile stuck on his face.
“I didn’t ask you to check out if he is a man or baby. You
need to focus on what we are about to do, I’m tired of
living like this.” She can hardly wait for Wednesday.
They will get Msindisi, have him send what’s in his
account to them, then they will have enough money to
flee the country and erase him from the earth surface.
Nzalo will be crushed, that’s the bright side of this. He
will know that Msindisi died because of him. And he will
hate Xolani too, because he started all this mess by
digging into things that didn’t concern him in any way.
.
.
.

Musa takes a walk to the backyard. It’s dark, they

always keep the lights off outside. He’s been re-reading
their old texts. Msindisi has been ignoring him since their
bathroom sexual encounter. At first he thought he was
embarrassed and he’d soon get over it, but a few days
have passed, he’s now getting worried.
He takes the risk and calls. It’s late, Msindisi lives alone
now. It rings a few times before Msindisi answers.
“I have been texting you and you’re not responding,” he
says.
“I was busy,” Msindisi says.
He sounds different; distant and cold.
“You could’ve just said that and I would’ve backed off. I
thought maybe I did something wrong.”
“But we are meeting up on Wednesday, correct?”
Msindisi asks.
“Yes,” he says.
“Exactly, so there’s really nothing for us to keep chatting
about. I have a life to live, what happened between us
was a mistake, it shouldn’t have happened.”
He smiles, “I know but it felt good, didn’t?”
“No, it didn’t. I’m not gay or anything like that.”
“I’m not gay either, I have a wife,” he says.
“This is not a debate. We will talk on Wednesday.”
Call dropped!

That was cold AF. His heart shatters. He takes a few

deep breaths and then searches for a cigarette in his
pocket. He kept his options open. Both Phindile and this
boy are counting on him for their battles. He made
promises to both but for the past two weeks he’s been
gravitating towards Msindisi more. He opened up to this
boy, something he never planned on doing. He felt alive,
Msindisi revived a part of him that he thought had died.
But now this phone call changes everything. He’s an
unreliable boy who can’t decide what he wants, Phindile
has been right. Robbing and killing him is the only option
they have.
He walks back in, Phindile is having a cup of black tea.
“I’m putting one bullet through his balls,” he says.
“Where? Are you crazy?” She doesn’t want it to be a
crazy scene. He’s still her baby, a peaceful death will do.
No bullet in his balls, it’s not that deep.
.
.
.
NZALO

He just needed a quick nap before going out to have

something to eat. A knock disturbs him, Nale didn’t say
she’s coming over today, so he’s not expecting anyone.
He’s shirtless and exhausted, he opens the door.
Xolani walks in, this is his first time in Nzalo’s house. His
eyes roam around before he fixes them on Nzalo.
“We need to talk,” he says.
Nzalo yawns, “Is it urgent? I woke up at three in the
morning, babomncane. I’m tired.”
“It is urgent. What were you doing at 3am?” Xolani asks.
“Umh, I had to prepare for a meeting.” He can’t state the
real reason, which was Nale’s wildness.

Nzalo leads him to the sitting room and sits opposite

him. He’s evidently tired, his eyes can barely stay open.
“This is about your brother,” Xolani says.
“Please babomncane, I don’t have time for that.” He’d
rather have his nap in peace than to hear about
Msindisi. He moved out to remove himself from the
chaos and his uncle is now bringing it all the way here.
“He’s hiring cars to get around now, so he suspects that
I’m watching his moves. I know you’re fed up but I need
you to listen to me,” Xolani says.
He takes a deep breath, “Mmmm.”
Lack of interest is obvious on his face, he’s only sitting
because he respects his uncle.
“I talked to him, offered to help in any way possible and
he refused everything. I saw a lot of anger in him. And
he thinks you’re responsible for all the pain,” Xolani
says.
His jaw twitches. He shakes his head, evidently pissed.
Xolani puts up his hand, stopping him from blowing up.
“I know how you feel, I understand. But right now he
doesn’t want to hear anything, especially being told that
he’s wrong.”
“So who’s going to baby a 25 year old?” he asks.
“I’d do it, I don’t mind. I want this part of our lives to be
over and stay in the past. But the only person he wants
to hear from is you,” Xolani says.
“Me? What must I say to him? “Thank you for teaming
up with my enemies”?” This frustrates him.
“I don’t think that’s what he wants. He wants you to
validate his feelings and tell him you understand what
he’s going through,” Xolani says.
“But I don’t. He’s an arsehole that I don’t want to be
associated with. I have my own back, I don’t need him to
do shit for me.” His anger boils up.
He’s been a bigger person so many times and all
Msindisi did was being disrespectful. Everyone has
limits and he’s reached his.
“If Msindisi is not stopped this only has two possible
endings. Death or prison. And it doesn’t have to get to
that, please stop him. Purity cannot handle any more
pain. Imagine her finding out what her ncane did and
that her brother is also either dead or arrested. That
would destroy her and hinder her studies,” Xolani says.
He chose his words carefully, Nzalo’s face softens when
he hears about his sister. Most of the times it’s just him
and Msindisi, they forget about Lwethu’s feelings.
“Msindisi needs you, he’s just doing it the wrong way.
Just go over there and validate whatever he tells you he
feels, maybe there will be a way forward,” Xolani begs.
“I don’t know babomncane, we’ll see. I have already told
him many times that I want us to be at peace.” He
stands up to fetch his T-shirt.
This is the last attempt, if it doesn’t work nobody should
say he didn’t try enough.
.
.
.

Msindisi’s chicken stew is almost ready. Ever since

Nzalo moved out he’s found motivation to cook. He
brought a few groceries that might last him a week and
few days. Musa has been reaching out after their
bathroom sexual encounter and he’s been ignoring him.
More than anything, he’s just confused. He doesn’t know
where that incident left him as far as manhood is
concerned. Without any shade of doubt, he enjoyed
every second of it. His only wish is that it wouldn’t have
been Musa, or at least his past would’ve been different.
He shouldn’t have let it get to that level. He betrayed his
mother in the worst way possible. How are they going to
work together now that they’ve seen each other’s
nakedness and explored it to an extent?

His food is ready but he’s just staring at the plate.

Suddenly his appetite is gone. There’s someone driving
in, he’s too lazy to get up and check. But it’s between
two people, when the door opens it’s the one he prefers
to see less.
Didn’t he move out?
Nzalo walks in with a hard expression on his face.
Maybe he forgot something, Msindisi thinks. He keeps
his head down, staring at his food. Nzalo stands next to
him for a minute or so, not breathing a word.
Then he asks, “What’s going on mfana wasekhaya?”
Msindisi doesn’t respond. He walks around the couch
and stands at the front, looking at Msindisi who only has
his eyes on the plate of chicken stew and chopped
veges. There’s a long moment of silence before Nzalo
sits with a heavy sigh.
“How are you doing?” he asks.
Msindisi shrugs, “Good.”
“Where did you get the recipe?”
“My head,” he says.
Nzalo chuckles, “It looks better than what I cooked two
days ago.”
Dark silence follows.
Msindisi’s eyes haven’t been lifted.
“Mom is proud of you for the fight you’ve put up for her
justice.”
“She is not,” he says.
“No, she is. I’m also proud, I’m just scared.”
“Why are you scared?”
“I don’t want to die the same way that mom died. I don’t
want to leave you and Lwethu. I still have dreams to
achieve, there’s a lot that I want to live for.”
“Do you really think I’d let them kill you?” Msindisi asks.
“No, I don’t think you’d let them. But I think they can, if
they get a chance to. Mom had dad, her husband, her
protector. But she still died,” he says.
“He was in on it,” -Msindisi.
Nzalo’s brows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”
“Musa told me that he was involved, he planned it with
ncane and they both got him out of prison and had it
announced that he was dead.”
“He is lying,” Nzalo says, shaking his head angrily.
“He is not,” Msindisi says calmly.
“They’re messing with you. Dad was not involved.”
Nzalo insists, getting up on his feet with his nose flaring
out in anger.
“He was and it all makes sense. Ncane was a nobody,
how was she going to help someone escape from prison
and pay all the people who were paid to make it look
legit? Musa showed me a picture of them sitting together
in Hluhluwe. Both ncane and him visited him there, they
knew he was still alive, they protected him.”
“But why? What did she do to them? She was always a
good wife, I don’t even remember them fighting.” It’s
slowly sinking into Nzalo’s head.
“Maybe it was about insurances and stuff. Everything
blew up after he married ncane, he bought more trucks
and extended the warehouse. We went from
comfortable to rich. Mom was a sacrifice,” Msindisi says.
“No, man!” Nzalo punches his left hand and paces
around.
He doesn’t want this to be true. He looked up to his dad
till the last day.
“Why is he telling you all of this?” he asks.
“Remorse,” Msindisi says.
“His remorse has a perfect timing. Before he got famous
he wasn’t sorry, now that he has no means to run
comfortably he’s sorry,” Nzalo clicks his tongue and sits.
Msindisi looks at him, agony stretched in his eyes. He
has every right to be mad but Musa is really remorseful.
If he had any bad intentions he would’ve struck already,
there has been many chances to do so.
“He said he will kill her and then hand himself over. I
wanted to do it but he said he doesn’t want me to
commit a crime, he will do it for me,” Msindisi says.
“Is it?” He finds it hard to believe this.
Musa had many years to do right and hand himself over.
Why is his remorse and kindness extended now when
he’s down and out?
“Yeah,” Msindisi says, raising his eyebrow.
Is Nzalo questioning his intelligence now, as usual?
“I got this,” he says.
“I know you do. And thank you for getting this far with
the chase. Can I be part of the plan too? I also need to
feel like I did something to get our mother justice.”
“He’s scared of you,” Msindisi says.
“I’m not going to harm him, I will follow your lead, I just
want to be a part of it. He doesn’t even need to know
that I will be there too.”
Msindisi looks at him, a bit hesitant. “ Do you promise?”
“I promise,” he says.
“Okay cool, we are doing it Wednesday. Don’t bring the
police, I have two private security guards who will
protect us should things go otherwise.”
Nzalo nods and stands up, opening his arms. “I feel like
we are always doing this. Peace?”
“Yeah. Are you going to come back?”
“I feel like space would be good but this is home, I’m
always going to pop in and you’re welcome to my house
at anytime,” he says wrapping his arms around Msindisi.
“We got this ntwana, I will always have your back.”
Msindisi releases a long-held sigh of relief. At least one
burden has been shed off his shoulders, he can figure
out how he overcomes other challenges along the way-
with his brother by his side.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 77
NOKUZOLA

Nale went home for the weekend, I was supposed to go

with her but guilt wouldn’t let me go and face my mother.
I assured her that I wasn’t pregnant and now it has
turned out that I am. I don’t know Xolani’s plans but it
would be better if he sends his people back to my dad
immediately. I had nothing to do, so I decided to honor
the dinner invite. I want to see Winnie, she’s the
fugitive’s wife and Robyn’s fake ex-bestie. I already
have an idea of what she is all about. When I informed
Xolani about my decision he promised to send a car to
pick me up. I’m ready and waiting for it. I don’t want to
be early, I’m going there as a guest and all I want is to
get served. I won’t lift a finger, I don’t identify as a
woman of that house at the moment.
There’s a car hooting outside, that must be my ride. I get
my side bag and make my way out.

I didn’t think it would be the whole family here, I’m

seeing Nzalo’s car and the other black one that I
assume belongs to his problematic brother. I don’t know
if the main guest has arrived, I’m not seeing any
unfamiliar fancy car outside. Nale said she’s a
slayqueen after stalking her on social media before
everything was deleted. Onathi proves that she was
raised by slayqueen. Her fashion sense is higher than
her common sense.
It's just me and my bag, I didn’t bring even a small gift.
Xolani appears as I walk through the door.
“I’m so happy you made it,” he says.
“I was bored and lazy to cook. Am I walking into any
fish?”
“No, I wouldn’t have taken that risk.” He smiles looking
at me walking past him in my cheap floral dress with my
side bag across my chest. I kept it casual and relaxed,
the main reason why I’m here is food.

Oh, Winnie is already here!

Did she come by taxis? She looks uncomfortable and
different from what I pictured in my head. Onathi is
sitting next to her. Nzalo and his brother on the far end
of the table.
I greet and grab a seat.
“You know everyone here except Winnie, right?” Xolani
asks while pouring a drink for me.
I do know everyone else even though I’m not too familiar
with Msindisi.
“This is Winnie Zondo, she raised Onathi,” he says.
“Nice to meet you.” I look at her and smile.
“You are the stepmom, right?”
Xolani looks at me as if he’s challenging me to say
otherwise.
“I’m Nokuzola,” I say.
Onathi doesn’t recognize me as anyone, so I’m
nobody’s stepmother.
I look across the table to Nzalo, he mockingly waves his
hand. I roll my eyes, smiling. I wish Nale was here, she
would’ve probably caused drama here and there but it
wouldn’t have been so awkward.
Xolani sits next to me. “I’m really happy you all put any
differences you might have had aside and came here. I
will start by thanking you Winnie for raising my princess
under difficult circumstances.”
Nzalo clears his throat but he doesn’t say anything. His
facial expression says everything though.
Xolani continues; “She’s home now, everyone you see
on this table is going to be in her life. I just wanted you
to come and see where she lives and officially meet us,
her family. You will always be a part of her life, which
means you will be a part of this family too.”
Nzalo stands up and grabs a plate of sliced butternut in
the middle of the table. I feel like he’s intentionally
disrupting the speech. Xolani is now painting Winnie as
a good Samaritan who came out of nowhere and raised
Onathi with her hard-earned money. Winnie belongs to
jail, together with Musa and MaMkhwanazi. She may
have not been involved in the murder but she’s just as
guilty.
“Do you want to say anything?” Xolani asks, looking at
Onathi.
She’s been waiting for this opportunity. She pushes back
the chair and stands up with a liquor glass in her hand.
“First of all, thank you for getting me a car. One down,
social media access to go,” she says.
Everyone laughs. I think I’m missing the joke. But I can
tell that their relationship has improved a lot in my
absence.
“I hated this family, I felt lost when you brought me here.
But now I understand why God did things the way he
did. I needed to meet you, I needed to know my roots
and my real dad. You’re my new favorite person on earth
and I hope you never doubt how selfless and special
you are. I hope you never let anyone put you down.”
He smiles, “Thanks my princess, but this is about you,
not me.”
“I know but I need to say this. You are a good man, not
perfect but aspiring to be a better man. I’m lucky to have
you as my dad,” she says.
I don’t know if I’m thinking too much into her little
speech, I just feel like she’s indirectly talking to me.
Being a good dad doesn’t make him good to everyone. I
don’t want her in our business, she’s a child and I want
him to put her in her right place.

It’s an awkward dinner with Nzalo throwing daggers at

Winnie every now and then. But at least we have good
food, that’s the highlight for me. Nzalo pulls me to the
side once we are done eating. Msindisi is talking to
Onathi, Winnie with Xolani. She’s beautiful, I hope his
zip doesn’t get loose.
“I’m happy to see you here, no wonder he’s been smiling
a lot lately,” Nzalo says.
“Trust me, he wasn’t smiling because of me. How are
you doing?” I ask.
“There’s nothing to complain about, I’m good. Just
missing my better half, she keeps saying there’s signal
problem in the village,” he says.
“It happens, she’s not lying. My cousin never lies.”
He laughs, “You’re talking about a pro. Anyway wena,
how are you doing?”
“I’m okay, not complaining,” I say.
“I heard that I’m having a little cousin, congratulations!”
“Thank you, I’m still getting used to it. It wasn’t part of
my plans, I should’ve been extra careful, but it’s God’s
blessing and I have to embrace it.”
“Don’t worry, you will be a good mom. You have it in you.
And babomncane is getting an experience already, he
will be a good dad. And Onathi will be a good big sister.”
“Big happy family things, right?” I believed him until he
mentioned Onathi.
Onathi will drop my baby’s head on the floor.
I don’t know when he came behind me, I just feel him
pulling me away. Nzalo goes and joins Msindisi and
Onathi.
“Where is your babymama?” I ask.
“She’s here,” he says, touching my tummy.
Obviously I was asking about Winnie.
“I want us to step away and talk,” he says.
I only came here for food, not to have any sort of
conversation. I follow him upstairs, he has my juice in a
glass. I think Winnie has already left, I was curious to
see her mode of transport.
“I have a little situation to attend on Wednesday, I just
want to inform you,” he says.
“Oh, okay.” I currently have no business knowing his
schedule, so I’m not sure why he thinks it’s important to
inform me.
“I don’t want you to just see something on the news, if it
gets to that. Musa arranged to meet up with Msindisi
where Phindile is. I will go with Nzalo there to see what’s
going on.”
Ok, now this sounds dangerous. Isn’t Musa the
heartless guy who shot Thobile multiple times for his
sister to get a man?
“You will go with the police, right?”
“No, why?”
Is he being serious?
“For safety and they’re wanted by the police. What if he
kills you?”
He smiles, “Don’t worry, he won’t.”
“No Xolani, you’re not going.” I just made up my mind,
we are expecting a baby, so I cannot allow him to go
and put his life in danger.
“Why?” he asks.
“Because you’re putting your life at risk. Not carrying a
baby doesn’t mean you can do anything you want
without considering the innocent life that we have
created. I don’t want my baby to grow up with no dad,” I
say.
I can see it in his eyes, he thinks I’m being dramatic. But
I mean it and I need him to prove that he respects me by
obeying this.
“I can’t let them go alone,” he says.
“They don’t have to go, tell the police and let them do
their job," I say.
“It’s not that simple, Msindisi gave Nzalo instructions not
to get anyone else involved. This is his operation and
disrespecting him will create more animosity between
them,” he says.
“But you’re still not going Xolani. Him not thinking
logically at the moment doesn’t mean you all have to
jump into a danger zone with him.” My decision doesn’t
change. He needs to figure out how they deal with
Msindisi’s illogical expectations and put safety first.
“I hear you,” he says.
“Great. Is there anything else?”
He lock his eyes with me. Am I supposed to read his
face?
“Please come back home, I need you,” he says.
“This home?” I ask.
“Me, I’m your home. Life is empty without you. I want to
be with you and my little peanut every step of the way,”
he says.
“You should have thought about that before you did what
you did.” I didn’t come here to reignite a relationship, I
came to eat and have some company.
“Does Onathi think I’m a bad person for holding you
accountable for your actions?” I ask.
“No, not at all. What makes you say that?”
“Because I feel like she does and in future I will prefer
that you keep children out of our business. You don’t like
it when Nale is in our business and coming at you, but
you’re doing the same with your daughter. How do you
expect her to respect me?”
“I think you are misunderstanding….?”
I raise my eyebrow. Misunderstanding? Haven’t he said
this before and it turned out I was right?
“Okay, I will find out what’s going on and address it with
her,” he says.
That’s all I wanted because she’s not my kid to address,
he’s better doing it before the situation gets out of hand.
“We have to go back, you have guests,” I say.
“You don’t want me to even say hello to my little
peanut?”
“I don’t even have a bump yet,” I turn to walk away.
And I’m being stopped. I look up, folding my arms while
he’s staring down at me.
He kneels down, wraps his arms around my waist and
leans his head against my tummy. This is not even a
baby yet. Broken up parents don’t hold each other.
“Please get up,” I say.
He only lifts his eyes and doesn’t remove his arms
around me. “I’m going to give this baby the world. God
didn’t make a mistake and you will see that.”
It still hurts him that I said I regret making him the father
of my baby. In that moment I meant it, I wanted to hurt
him, but I know that he’s going to be a good father.
He finally gets up but his other arm holds me still. If this
was a week ago I would’ve pushed his head against the
wall and insulted him until his whole body trembled. I’m
a better person than I was back then.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

Being home feels different ever since my mom passed

on. Her death brought my uncle and his wife closer,
which is a good thing for their marriage. But they’re
overdoing it, I miss our late nights as a family. My aunt is
only out of her bedroom after 9am and then they go to
bed before 9pm. What the fuck is that? When do we get
our time with them because anywhere in between is
house chores. I’m not leaving until I confront them about
it. If this is how they behave with Thami around, it makes
sense why he has a girlfriend. He’s lonely, they don’t
give him attention.

I’m leaving today, I want to cook before I go.

“Ummmhhh!” Thami comes in, I already know that he
wants something.
“I haven’t cooked yet, eat bread,” I say.
“No, I want to ask you something but I don’t know how
you will react.” He’s standing by the door with his hands
behind his back.
“I always react calmly, you know me. What’s up?”
He looks around, for his parents I guess, then walks to
me upon confirming that the coast is clear.
Why do I feel like he’s coming with something
inappropriate?
He’s taking out his phone and showing me something.
It’s an article he screengrabbed from a certain website.
Sex addiction?
“Thami are you crazy?” This is not how I promised to
react but what the fuck!
“It’s not me,” he says.
“Then why are you researching about it?”
“Because I’m worried about my parents.”
Oh, my heartbeat! I almost died for nothing.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I live them and they’re acting strange.” He
looks really worried.
I read the article, thinking about this is both funny and
disgusting.
“But they’re married, we can’t say anything about how
much they decide to be in their bedroom. You have
amplifier and a smart phone, block your ears in your
room and mind your own business.”
“This is why white kids move out when they turn 18,” he
says.
I burst into laughter, this is hilarious. He’s really turned
off by his parents having a lot of sex. I would be too, I’m
glad I don’t live here. They are probably making up for
all the years that they lost while occupied by family
duties.
“The whole village can hear you laughing,” says the sex-
addict suspect coming from the scene.
I stop laughing but Thami’s facial expression sends me
back.
“Share the joke,” he says, passing me to take something
from the cupboard.
I can’t share the joke, I will be scolded and told where to
get off.
“I was rubbing your aunt’s legs, her joints are always
aching,” he voluntarily explains himself.
I look at Thami, he doesn’t believe any of it. Poor child,
he still has another year living with them.
My phone rings, it’s Zola.
I put her on loudspeaker, my hands are occupied.
“Are you on your way back?” she asks.
“No, I haven’t left home yet. What’s up?”
“Xolani is using this pregnancy to get closer, I don’t want
to call him, I want oranges.”
I turn off the loud speaker with wet hands but it’s already
too late. Her father heard everything, the look on his
face says it all. I don’t know what to say, I drop the call.
“Is Nokuzola pregnant?”
Phewww!

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 78
NALENHLE

I have to tell Zola the truth before they call from home
and confront her, if they haven’t done it already. I have
her oranges, that’s a good start. I find her lying on the
couch, watching TV. I passed by the kitchen and
grabbed a knife to peel.
“I have your oranges,” I say.
She sits up with a frown. “Hello to you too. What did I do
right?”
“It’s more like what I did wrong mzala,” I say.
“Okay, I’m listening.” She takes the oranges and the
knife.
I put my bag away and sit. I just know that she will
refuse to understand and lash out, which will then leave
me with no choice but to defend myself.
“When you called in the morning I was in the kitchen,
busy. Your dad was there, so was Thami. I didn’t know
that you’d mention your pregnancy, you were on
loudspeaker.”
“Say you’re joking!” she stops peeling the orange,
already looking mad as hell.
“I’m not, they know,” I say.
“Why would you put me on loudspeaker and not warn
me? You wanted them to find out, right? Miss Goody-
Two-Shoes?” She’s going off, just like I expected.
“What would I gain from that?” I have no reason to rat
her out.
“Praises. Aren’t you now the good child? I don’t even
know why I still talk to you.” She takes the oranges and
storms off to her bedroom.
I said sorry, there’s nothing more that I can do.
.
.
.
Nzalo is here, he wants to talk to me about something. I
hope it’s good news, I’m already dealing with Zola’s
tantrums, I can’t handle any more heartache. I put on my
jacket and step outside. He’s parked down the road.
I open the door and find him with his head buried on the
steering wheel.
“Please don’t tell me any bad news,” I say, it already
looks like it.
He lifts his head, smiling. “Is that how you greet your
boyfriend? You haven’t seen me all weekend.”
He’s such a big baby, I kiss his lips and sit back on my
seat.
“I missed you,” he says.
“You had dinner with your family. How did it go?”
“It went well. You will join us next time, right?”
“No, I’m good,” I say.
“Why? You’re my girlfriend.”
I feel like this small talk is just a foundation he’s laying
for a bigger issue.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I talked to Msindisi, he told me everything. So now I
have to go with him and meet this Musa person on
Wednesday,” he says.
“With the police or you’re just going there with your big
head, no protection?” I don’t like this at all.
“Of course I will inform the police baby. But Msindisi
cannot know,” he says.
“I can’t wait for this to be over.” Honestly I’m tired of this.
MaMkhwanazi must be locked up once and for all, I will
inherit her curly wigs and expensive coats.
.
.
.
**ON WEDNESDAY**

They will finally get justice for their mother. Everything

feels different as they head to their cars outside. Nzalo
will be behind him, Musa only expects Msindisi to show
up. They both slept in their mother’s house and silently
prayed before they walked out of the door.
Msindisi drives off, Nzalo is giving him some distance
before he follows. He drives out of the gate slowly with a
phone on his ear. He’s talking to Mhlengikhaya who’s
accompanying Xolani with two other cops. Msindisi was
not made aware of it, as far as he’s concerned it’s just
him and Nzalo.
As much as Nzalo wants his mother’s killer dead,
enough has already happened, this time he’s letting
Mhlengikhaya and his co-workers do their job. After
today their lives will move forward, everyone will have
peace.

Behind him is Xolani, they have to follow closely to

Msindisi while Mhlengikhaya and the other two wait
outside the door. He’s scared for Msindisi, something in
him just tells him this is a set-up. If he didn’t listen to his
uncle, Msindisi would’ve came here alone and they
would’ve probably never found out what happened to
him. He wouldn’t have been able to survive with that
guilt.
Msindisi got them into an AirBnB, they have continued
living off the Hadebe money. He’s been responsible for
their expenses, all because Musa promised to kill
MaMkhwanazi on his behalf. Hopefully they are still
here, he doesn’t trust any of this.

Msindisi drives in, there’s a man waiting for him. That

must be the bustard, they walk inside, Msindisi doesn’t
lock. Both Nzalo and Xolani walk through the gate by
foot and stand on either side of the slightly open door.
They can hear a soft conversation between Msindisi and
the man, but not MaMkhwanazi. Is it possible that Musa
took Msindisi for a ride? It doesn’t sound like an
argument until Msindisi says a loud no. Something is
happening.
“Shhh!” Xolani tries to pull him back.
But the second no could be followed by a gunshot and
he’s not taking that risk. He told Msindisi to take the
illegal gun back where he got to stay out of trouble with
the law officials present. He pushes the door without
thinking twice, to his surprise MaMkhwanazi is present
and holding a rope. Musa was in a conversation with
Msindisi, he just panicked and cocked his gun.
“What is this Msindisi?” Musa asks, his eyes fixed on
Nzalo. “You fuckin’ broke the promise, Msindisi!”
This is not how Msindisi wanted things to go either. So
far Musa hasn’t broke the promise from his side, they
were just talking about why Msindisi has been giving him
a cold shoulder. It offended him.
“This is my brother,” he says.
“I said nobody else. Who else is here?”
Just as he asks, Xolani appears. Musa panics more and
opens fire. It’s all happening in a split second and
Nzalo’s first instinct was jumping to Msindisi and
pushing him down to the floor. Someone has been shot,
there’s Mhlengikhaya’s lawful order to Musa who still
has a gun and MaMkhwanazi screaming.
“Drop the gun and put your hands up, now!”
Musa’s eyes go to Msindisi, gripped with a lot of grief
and sadness. He felt something for this boy, things
could’ve turned out differently had they kept their
communication flowing like it has been for weeks. But
Msindisi is also confused, he only asked Nzalo to come.
Mhlengikhaya starts counting from three down, slowly
Musa surrenders. MaMkhwanazi already has her hands
behind her back, claiming she didn’t want any of this to
happen.
“Babomncane!” Nzalo looks up, his uncle is on the floor.
He got shot, he’s bleeding.
“Ambulance, please,” he screams, running to where
Xolani is.
He’s bleeding from the chest. It looks bad.
Musa and MaMkhwanazi are being taken out, one cop is
attending to Xolani.
“Just know that I meant every word and I don’t regret
what we did,” Musa says before exiting the door. Tears
fill Msindisi’s eyes, he breaks down and cries.
.
.
.
They’ve been at the police station for the last hour,
giving their statements. Msindisi’s emotions are unstable
but right now there’s no time to baby him. From here
they have to go to the hospital, while at it they need to
figure out how they tell Onathi and Zola.
“Why did you bring the police? He thinks I betrayed
him,” he asks.
“I don’t care what he thinks, he belongs here with his
sister.” Nzalo says and turns his red-rimmed eyes to
him. “What did he mean when he said he doesn’t regret
what you did?”
Msindisi drop his eyes and keeps quiet.
“Was it a crime?” Nzalo is worried.
“No, it wasn’t a crime,” he says.
“Then what was it? You have to tell the police
everything, otherwise you’re going to jail with them.”
“It was…umh…we had,” he’s stuttering.
Nzalo’s patience is very thin at this time. “What did you
do?”
“I can’t say it here,” he says.
Nzalo raises his voice, “Say it!”
“Okay, we had sex,” he says, engulfed with shame.
Nzalo’s brows knit in confusion. Did he just hear “sex”?
“You and who? The witch MaMkhwanazi?”
“No, with Musa,” Msindisi says.
“Huh?” He looks at his brother, confused.
Msindisi has a dick, and so does Musa.
“How did you do it? I’m confused. Are you alright?”
Maybe what happened left his brother mentally
challenged because this makes no sense.
“There was no penetration, we only used our hands,”
Msindisi says.
“Okay, okay!” He gets up and takes a walk.
What the fuck is happening?
Msindisi had sex with another man. Not just a random
man but the man who killed their mother.
Nah. He walks back to Msindisi.
“Are you gay?” he asks.
“What? No, I’m not gay.” Msindisi is surprised by this
question even though he’s asked himself it many times.
His answer has been the same; he’s not gay. He did feel
sexually attracted to Musa, just like he’s been attracted
to girls before. This doesn’t mean he will no longer be
attracted to girls.
“Officer, can we go?” Nzalo asks, directing to the officer
behind the desk.
“Just a minute,” says the officer making his way to them
with a document.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Nzalo called me during my lunch break, I could hear that

he wasn’t okay, he asked me to text him once I clock
out. I waited until I got home and texted. I hope it’s
nothing crazy, I haven’t checked social media or
watched the news.
He calls and the first thing I want to know is how
Operation-Find-The-Mkhwanazis went.
“They were caught,” he says.
“That’s a relief, at least now you will have peace.”
“Is Zola next to you?” His question is alarming.
“No, she’s taking a nap. Why?” I’m curious.
“Something terribly happened. I don’t know if you’re
brave enough to tell her or we should call her mother
and have her breaking the news?”
“What news?” I’m already thinking the worse; my joints
are weak.
“Babomncane was shot,” he says.
Oh God, no!

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 79
NALENHLE

I know she’s not in the mood to speak with me after I

“told” her parents that she’s pregnant. But I cannot just
inform her mom, for now Mr X is in the hospital having
an operation, he’s not dead. Biologically I’m Zola’s aunt,
I can break the news to her and accompany her to the
hospital. I just hope she doesn’t panic too much, she’s a
pregnant woman.
I wake her up. “It’s important, please get up.”
“No,” she refuses.
“I just got a call from Nzalo, it’s important.”
She grunts angrily and sits up. “Please, I hope it’s not
about any relationship, I’m tired.”
“It’s about Mr X,” I say.
“What about him?”
“He’s in the hospital, he got shot.”
“Huh?” She freezes for a second.
Then she kicks off the blanket.
“What do you mean he got shot? By who? Where?”
She’s panicking.
“By Musa but he’s still alive and Musa was arrested,” I
say.
“No, no, no! I told him not to go, what was he doing
there?” She’s already crying. I didn’t even know that
they had a conversation about it. She grabs her jacket
and bag and cries all the way to the door.

I have to follow behind and go with her. For the sake of

the baby I really prays that Mr X pulls through and
comes out of that surgery alive. We board a taxi,
everyone inside is staring at Zola who has tears running
down her cheeks.
I text Msindisi, he doesn’t respond. We haven’t talked
since Nzalo said our friendship should end. But right
now I know he’s devastated and probably blaming
herself about what has happened to his uncle. Msindisi
was one person who showed me a lot of support when I
was at my lowest, I know he also needs a shoulder to
cry on at this time.
.
.
.

Mr X is not out of surgery yet, they say a bullet is stuck a

few inches away from his heart. I’m scared, anything
can happen. Zola is losing her sanity right now. I don’t
know how to comfort her.
“I told him not to go,” she keeps saying.
“We were with the police, he’s going to be okay,” Nzalo
says, subtly defending his uncle.
“What if he doesn’t? I’m pregnant with his baby, I can’t
do this alone.”
Oh my goodness!
I ask Nzalo to excuse us. This is not the time to lose
hope, if anything we should be urging God and his
ancestors to pull through for him.
“You cannot think like this. You know Mr X, you think
he’d just stop fighting? He’s stubborn as hell, he’s
coming out to defend why he went there behind your
back. Instead of crying like this, you should be preparing
all the insults you’re going to use because he never
listens to you.”
She smiles with tears in her eyes. “Seriously? I’m not
that bad. I just want him to be okay so that we can go
home.”
“Trust me, he will be alright,” I sit with my arms around
her.
I don’t know how long we are going to be here. It could
be a couple of hours or the whole night, I don’t know
how we are going to make it to work tomorrow.
Despite everything that has happened, Mr X is going to
be a family with us through Junior Citizen. Doctors are
giving us hope, I can call home and have something
solid to tell them. I step away and call Zola’s mom.
“What’s the bad news?” she says when she answers.
“How do you know it’s bad news?” I’m puzzled.
Is she an undercover sangoma?
“I have been feeling it in my blood the whole day. Where
is Nokuzola?”
“She’s here with me, we are in the hospital. Mr X…I
mean, Xolani, was shot.”
“Is he alive though?” she asks.
“Yes, for now it’s promising.”
“Can I talk to her? Oh my baby, I can’t imagine what
she’s going through right now.” Knowing her, I know she
already suspects dark magic from neighbors.
I give Zola the phone.
.
.
.

NOKUZOLA

At some point I was sure that I would be fine even if I

never saw this mine again in my life. But today proves
all that wrong, I don’t want to lose him. I still need this
lying, cheating, manipulative man in my life. I need him
to live his dream of raising a girl- Onathi. And for once
experience how it’s like to be cared for by your family.
The news have reached Mpumalanga, Lwethu wants to
come home tomorrow. Onathi was fetched by Msindisi
and for the first time since I have known her, I see a
child. A scared child curled up on the floor and sobbing
nonstop. Today her biological mother was arrested,
Winnie might face charges of her own too, and now it’s
her father between life and death. It’s a lot, I cannot
imagine what she’s going through.
“Please sit on the chair,” I pull her up.
The hospital floors are cold, she will get flue. I sit next to
her and hold her hand. I never thought I’d want anything
to do with her but right now we have to stick together.
“Your dad is stubborn, he’s not just going to give up,” I
borrow Nale’s words.
She’s still sobbing. “Why is it taking so long?”
“They have to take long, that’s way they will be careful
and remove the bullet successfully,” I say.
“My dad wanted to kill my dad!” She buries her head on
my lap and sobs some more.
Shit, I forget that Musa played a distant father role to
her. She loves both these men, sadly I don’t think Musa
even cared to think about her for a minute. Because if
anything had happened to Xolani, what would've
became of Onathi?
“Xolani loves you and he’s not going to leave you. You’re
what he dreamed of for a very long time. I don’t even
know if it was a dream or a fatherly instinct was trying to
tell him that he has a daughter. He talked about having a
daughter, he was thrilled by the idea. And then you just
came out of nowhere and made that dream a reality.” I’m
stroking her hair, she’s stopped crying, just having
hiccups. I feel like a grandmother telling a folktale to her
sad grandchild, but I love it, she’s getting calm. “Now I
don’t have to worry about whether I will be able to give
him a daughter or not, you have saved me.”
She chuckles. “He just wanted a doll to ban from social
media.”
“It’s for your own good, he just cares a bit too much but
he means well.” Onathi is the reason why all this
happened. If it wasn’t for her posting her life on social
media, nobody would’ve known that she’s living a good
life with Winnie and MaMkhwanazi is sponsoring it. I
don’t think she even knows that and maybe it’s better
that way because she might start blaming herself. But
she is the reason why Thobile finally found justice. I
guess the Hadebe ancestors used their own and worked
overtime.

Nzalo comes to us, I hope it’s good news, he’s been

speaking to the doctors.
“How is he?” Msindisi asks, getting up on his feet.
“The operation was successful, he’s doing okay. They
say we can see him for five minutes, his body needs to
rest.” It’s good news, I cannot express how happy I am.
Nale stays behind with Nzalo, I go in with Onathi and
Msindisi, we cannot crowd him. I thought he’d be awake,
I’m a bit disappointed but happy to see him breathing on
his own. Nale was right, he’s too stubborn to just die.
I let Onathi hold his hand, she’s started crying again but
this time it’s tears of joy.
“Thank you so much for coming back. I promise I will
never walk in to your room without knocking again and I
will always eat with you on the table. I love you, I don’t
want to lose you.”
She’s a very sweet child, I wish she can always display
her true emotions like this and not hide it by acting like a
spoilt brat.

I kiss his forehead and tell him that I’m waiting for him to
get out of the hospital, I will be home waiting for him with
Onathi and his little peanut. He’s concurred the big fight,
I may be angry at him for going there without my
consent but I know that he went there to save his
nephews. If he didn’t take this bullet it could’ve been one
of them, and who knows if they would’ve survived. I’m
mad but I understand, and I’m not going to give him a
hard time about it.
I look at Msindisi, our time is almost up. No movement. I
think he wants to be alone with him. I take Onathi and
we give him space.
I don’t want to leave, I want to be by his side until his
body recovers and he’s able to see me. But that’s not
realistic, I’m pregnant and working tomorrow. At least I
know that he’s out of danger and he’s in good hands
here.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Zola went to Mr X’s house to be with Onathi, which

makes sense during this time and I applaud her for the
maturity she’s showing. Nzalo wouldn’t have known how
to take care of an emotional girl child. Heck, he can’t
even handle a boy child, Msindisi. I’m worried about him,
I don’t want to lie. Nzalo can handle everything, he has a
strong mental capacity. Not Msindisi, I feel like I have to
reach out. Msindisi held me down when my feet couldn’t
reach the ground and held me up when I was sinking
down. It’s unfair that I have to keep a distance because
Nzalo said so. I understand where he was coming from
but this is no longer about them.
The day seems to be moving slow, it feels like the clock
has been stuck on 3pm forever. I can no longer be here,
I want to go and check on Msindisi. I know Nzalo is
caught between hospital visits, work and communicating
with Mr X’s work team. I don’t think he has time to check
how the poor boy is holding up.

I look up, finally the bloody clock has ticked forward. I

get my shit and take a taxi to town. I’m getting him
flowers and chocolate, the same way he did for me.
Wait, is that what you get for guys? The problem is, I
can’t buy him alcohol. It morally makes no sense.
Maybe I should buy him a book instead of flowers. I
need a book that’s going to make him laugh, so I need
one between comedy and fiction. I will ask a bookshop
assistant to recommend one for me.

Books are expensive, I don’t know which one fiction

authors are charging for between lies and paper. How
can lies printed on a paper cost R300? I buy taxi rank
meat but I’m not sure if this is Msindisi’s taste. I don’t
know if he’s been to a taxi rank in his adult years.
.
.
.

I call him outside the gate, he opens and I see that

Nzalo is here as well. Now this is going to be awkward
because I didn’t tell him that I will be here. He hasn’t
changed his decision regarding our friendship even
though him and Msindisi are now on good terms. I
wasn’t doing this behind his back, I was going to tell him
about it later.
When we walk in his brows furrow, he didn’t expect me
to be here.
“How are you guys doing?” I ask.
“Good, how are you?” he says.
“I’m fine, I just came here to check how you’re both
doing.” I look at Msindisi, he didn’t answer my question.
“I’m good too,” he’s lying, his eyes say something else.
“I got you a book, I don’t know if you read, just keep your
mind occupied.”
“Thank you,” he takes it.
“You guys can share the food.”
“I’m good,” Nzalo says.
Msindisi takes it and goes to the kitchen to warm it. I can
already tell that Nzalo has a problem with this. He knows
that I bought both the book and food for Msindisi.
“I didn’t know that you’re home,” I say.
“Obviously,” he says.
“I was going to tell you and I didn’t think you’d mind me
checking up on him. He’s at his lowest and needs to be
checked up on.”
“And I don’t need to be checked up on?”
So now it’s a competition?
“Didn’t I call you in the morning?” I ask.
“You didn’t buy me food and a book or came to
physically check up on me. But it’s okay, we all have
different priorities.” This is the petty Nzalo, he cannot
see beyond his own perspective.
“Do you know that he was also checking up on me when
I lost my mom and you weren’t there? I cannot turn my
back on people who supported me when I needed it the
most.”
“Okay, I will excuse myself, you can support each other
without me disturbing and sharing food that wasn’t
meant for me.” He gets up with his phone and car keys
and leaves.
This is so unnecessary, I didn’t expect him to act like
this. He knows that I mean well, he just wants me to look
bad. I hear him driving off.

Msindisi walks back, looking guilty.

“Don’t mind him,” I say.
“I really don’t want any more issues. You can give him
the book, if that’s what he’s angry about, I will get the
electronic version on Kindle.”
“No, keep the book. How are you doing?” I ask.
“I don’t know and that’s the honest truth,” he says.
“But you know that none of it is your fault. Your
intentions were good and that fuckin’ murderer shouldn’t
make you question that. He’s a bad person, not you.”
He sits down with a heavy sigh. “That’s the least of my
concerns. I have other interpersonal issues that I’m
dealing with. Did Nzalo tell you anything?”
“About you?” I ask.
He nods.
“No, he’s just an angry Thomas. Is there anything I
should know?” I don’t want to miss out on anything, he
must fill me in.
“I don’t want to attend the trial, I need some time alone
and away. I have to figure out who I am and heal on my
own, by myself,” he says.
“So you’re going on a holiday?” I ask.
“I’m relocating, I just don’t know where I’m going for
now," he says.
Something big must have happened, this is a big move.
“You are leaving everything?”
“I only need myself,” he says.
Yoooh!

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 80
NOKUZOLA

It’s been a few days, he’s recovering well in the hospital.

I have kept things positive, I don’t even think I will
confront him about going against my word, I just want
him to come home. I moved in with Onathi and so far it’s
been good. She needs me to be here and I think she
finally understands that I care about her dad even
though he hurt me.
We have been eating out most of the times. I come back
from work and we drive to a nearby restaurant and have
dinner. It’s all been coming from my pocket and I’m not
rich, today I cannot afford taking us out, so I’m cooking.
“Do you eat baked beans?” I ask.
I’m not big on cooking so I prefer simple meals.
“Ummh, why do you have a pot?”
I’m confused. “To cook, I’m cooking baked beans.”
“Do you cook a baked cake?” she asks.
“Why would I cook a baked cake?” Is this child okay?
“I don’t know, why would you cook baked beans? It’s
bakeeed.”
Sigh! I don’t know who’s going to tell her because I don’t
have the strength. She stands and watches as I chop
onions and add to a hot pan with oil. I’m cooking baked
beans curry, adding chopped tomatoes and all the
spices.
“What do you want? Rice or phuthu?” I ask.
“It’s the same thing, just starch,” she says.
Well, rice it is. I’m not a good phuthu cook anyway. I
cook with her looking at everything with lack of interest. I
don’t think she knows how to cook so beggars can’t be
choosers.

My food looks good, for once I didn’t overcook rice. I

dish for both of us and call her to the table. I know she
misses her dad right now, he would’ve rang a chef to
come and cook her green beans and half-bleeding
meat.
“So you’re going to marry my dad?” She’s weighing her
options right now; does she stay his daughter and have
me cooking for them or she finds a new dad.
“I don’t know but I have the ring,” I say.
“Wow, he proposed? How many carats?”
Okay, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.
“It wasn’t the actual ring, I’m talking about a gesture- he
sent his uncles to my father,” I say and she erupts into
laughter. Even his own daughter is laughing at it, I
deserve better.
“And you agreed? He’s going to wed you in a community
hall,” she’s still laughing.
“Give him a break, he has some taste.” We are laughing
and eating, she’s forgot about criticizing the food. It
doesn’t taste bad but the cooked-baked beans didn’t
turn out how I wanted.
My phone rings, there are no rules on this table, I
answer.
“Hey Ma,”
“How are you mntanami?”
“I’m good, I just cooked.”
“You cooked? Is Nale not with you?”
“No, I have been in Xolani’s house with his daughter.”
“Oh, how is she doing?” she asks.
I look over to Onathi, she’s focused on her plate. “She’s
fine,” I say.
“And how is your morning sickness?”
“It’s getting better now,” I say.
“Yeah, it should get better with time. Your dad wants to
talk to you,” she says.
My mom has accepted that she’s becoming a
grandmother and I’m having her grandchild out of
wedlock. My dad on the other side hasn’t even
confronted me about it, which makes me nervous.
He’s been listening to us going on and on about me
stepmothering and morning sicknesses.
“Nokuzola,” he says.
His voice sends shivers down my spine, it’s guilty.
“Hi dad,” I say.
“How are you?”
“I’m good,” I say.
“I hear your mother talking about pregnancy. Who is
pregnant?” He knows that I’m pregnant, he just wants to
give me a hard time.
“Nale told you,” I say.
“Oh, she’s your mouth now?”
Sigh!
“It’s me,” I say.
“Awu, congratulations ntombi, well done.”
I hear him giving the phone back to my mom. Mom says
goodnight and ends the call.
Onathi looks up. “What’s happening?”
“All I can say is, don’t fall pregnant if your dad is still
alive, unless you’re married. Dads will have you out of
wedlock and criticize you for meeting the same fate,” I
say.
“But you’re 29. Once I turn 21 I will set my own rules, as
an adult you can decide when you want to have
children,” she says.
“I can’t wait,” I say.
She thinks parents understand anything about their
children becoming adults. Black parents will make you
feel guilty for being sexual active at 30.
“So, are you hoping for a brother or sister?” I ask.
She clears her throat dramatically and sips water.
No, she can’t be real.
“None?” I ask.
“I just met him and his attention is going to be away from
me. But I’m okay now, I’m going back to college
anyway,” she says.
“Onathi are you serious? People raise more than five
children at once, it doesn’t mean that he’s going to love
the baby more and neglect you.”
“I know, I guess I overreacted,” she says.
“To him?” I ask.
“Yes, we fought about it,” she says.
I find this hilarious to be honest, but I also understand
because she’s only been here for a short while and they
just started bonding. But I’m not that kind of person, I will
never be with someone who abandons one of his
children.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

Nzalo stopped talking to me, I think he wants me to

follow him and apologize for reciprocating Msindisi’s
support. Msindisi sent me a short text telling me he’s off
to Northern Cape, Fraserburg. When he left they were
not on speaking terms too. I don’t know what this means
for their relationship but I will check up on him every now
and then. The chaos has ended, no guard is gawking
from across the street, the Mkhwanazis are behind bars.
I invited all this drama into our lives, simply because a
man broke my heart and I couldn’t handle it like a
normal person, I went out drinking and met Mr X.
Meeting Mr X is what got me here. If I didn’t meet him, I
wouldn’t have caught Nzalo Hadebe’s attention,
MaMkhwanazi wouldn’t have known my name.

Well, Zola found something solid from it. She’s in a

double-storey mansion with a future millionaire growing
in her womb. I think they’re going to work after this
experience. Mr X will know better now, life is too short to
spend it between Robyn’s legs. As for me, life is really
quiet these days. I go to work and come back to an
empty house. Today I’m going out, to the very same pub
that I met Mr X in. It’s his but he’s not going to pop out
today, he hasn’t been discharged yet.

I find the exact table and order a raspberry-gin martini.

I’m going to settle the bill myself. I’m a perfect example
of young and lonely. I wanted to call home earlier but my
uncle would’ve asked too many questions and got
worried.
“Excuse me,”
God, not again!
I’m just enjoying the first cocktail. I turn around, Tom.
“Nalenhle,” he says, smiling.
I haven’t seen him since we broke up. He has clear skin
now, still wearing two gold crowns on his teeth below.
Childish motherfucker!
“Hey,” he says, sitting on my table like we are two old
friends.
He’s not wearing his ring, out here to fool more innocent
girls like me.
“I’m ignoring you,” I say.
“I can see. But you never gave me even a chance to
explain my side of the story. You blocked me
everywhere,” he says.
“I don’t care. Where is your wife?”
“You’re still crazy, let’s get more drinks.”
I watch him making the order and getting me another
cocktail. I no longer accept freebies and money shortcut
offers. Last time I did that I ended up involved in family
unresolved murder cases, fighting brothers and a witch
stepmother’s bad side.
“So what are you busy with now?” she asks.
“Nothing. If I was busy with something I wouldn’t be
here.”
“I saw that you’re in a new relationship, congratulations.”
“Thanks. Where is your wife?” I ask.
“We separated, just about to have our divorce finalized. I
could’ve explained to you what was happening and why
I didn’t disclose my marital status to you, but you didn’t
want to hear anything. I have thought about you a lot in
the past few months.”
“There’s really no need for you to explain now, it won’t
change anything,” I say.
“But it will give you closure, right?” He gives that
relationship too much credit. I don’t need any closure
unless it’s for my one weave.
“I’m good Tom, I’m just here to chill, not looking for
answers from the past,” I’m bored just by his presence.
He looks good but he’s no longer my cup of tea. I’m no
longer into thin, lightskin guys.
“You are a good person, Nale. At that time I felt like you
weren’t open about who you were either. Everything
about you was just on the surface,” he says.
Nzalo said the same thing, I don’t know what men really
want. Do I have to turn my insides out?
“What do you mean?” I’m confused.
“You did and said everything in passing. Our relationship
didn’t get to a deeper level but after you left me I
realized you actually meant a lot to me and I could’ve
been honest, something deep was probably going to
come up,” he says.
“So now it’s my fault that you didn’t tell me you had a
wife?” It’s not funny but I laugh.
No, I won’t be fooled by him again. I gave him a chance
and he played me, single-handedly. I didn’t contribute to
it, there’s nothing I could’ve done better.
“But that’s not what I’m saying. You meant a lot to me
and I wish we could’ve explored deeper. I don’t know if I
still stand a chance?”
“Nope, but thanks for a conversation.” I’m ready to go, it
was good seeing him and hearing that he has some
regrets. As it should be, all my ex’s should suffer. I don’t
believe his divorce story, Tom is a serial liar.
“Your cocktail,” he says.
“No thanks, I no longer accept free drinks especially
from this place.” I could tell him the whole story but I
don’t have time. I settle my bill and request home.
.
.
.
My cold bed is waiting for me, I turn on the lights and
lock the door. Tomorrow I’m waking up for work. I don’t
know what I’m working towards to. Sending money to
my uncle’s wife? That’s literally the only thing I do beside
taking care of myself. Zola is the only cousin I have
beside Thami who is a teenage boy. With me there’s no
maternal side of the family and paternal side of the
family. If Zola moves in with Mr X, which I suspect is
going to happen, then it’s really just going to be me.
I stay awake until the deep hours of the night. Usually I’d
fall asleep quick when I’m drunk but not today. I take my
phone under the pillow and make a call.
I call twice before he answers.
“Nalenhle,” he says.
“I want to come home.”
“Is everything okay?” He sounds alarmed.
“Yeah, I just want to come home,” I say.
“What about work?” he asks.
“I don’t know, I will call them in the morning but I don’t
want to be here anymore, at least for now.” There’s
nothing for me in this town other than work.
“Have you been drinking?” he asks.
“Yeah, but I only had one cocktail.”
I hear a sigh. “Okay, I will call you in the morning, try to
have some sleep.”
“Alright, goodnight,” I say.
“Nalenhle,” he calls my name before I drop.
I stay on the call.
“I love you, always will.”
I know he does.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 81

A goodbye text, really?

He tries calling but it doesn’t go through. He gets back to
the HR office to conclude the meeting but his heart is no
longer here. What he’s been waiting for is her
acknowledging her wrongs. Why is she talking about
going back to the village? How did she get to that
decision?
As soon as his meeting is done, he gets in the car and
heads to her place. When he gets there, he’s met with a
gigantic lock. She’s already gone. Maybe Zola knows
what’s going on, she heads to his uncle’s house.
Shit, he’s only realizing outside the gate that Zola is at
work. Now what does he do?
Check up on Onathi and maybe go to the hospital.
Onathi opens, she’s in the company of a house helper
while Zola is at work.
“Hey,” he walks in.
“Hi, how are you?”
“I’m good, just checking up on you.”
“I’m good,” she looks at him, frowning. “Are you sure
that you’re okay?”
He exhales heavily. “I’m not okay, I thought I’d find Zola
home but it’s fine. We can go and see your dad.”
“Really? I’m going to change, give me one minute.” She
saw him yesterday evening but she’s not turning down
any opportunity to see him again. She runs to her room
and puts on her cotton pants and sneakers.

Nzalo is quiet all the way to the hospital. He’s clearly

going through something but can’t open up to a child.
He tries calling Nale again before they make their way in
but it’s still going to voicemail. Xolani is awake, he’s
been asking to be discharged but the doctor refused.
Now he’s just hoping by the end of this week he’d be
allowed to go home to his family. Zola shocked him
when she came to the hospital with Onathi, then they
said they’re both staying in his house. Things weren’t
like that when he left, they could barely stand each
other.
“Dad,” Onathi walks in and rushes to hug him.
“Hey beautiful princess. Did you bring me my laptop?”
Onathi laughs, “No. Zola said I must never.”
“Do you guys understand that I have work to do
regardless of being here?”
“Where have you ever seen anyone working from the
hospital bed? Relax, everything is under control,” she
says.
“If you say so.” He lifts his eyes to Nzalo.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Nzalo says with a low sigh.
Xolani turns his eyes to Onathi and asks her to give
them space for a few minutes. He knows Nzalo,
something is wrong.
“What’s happening?” he asks
“I really don’t know, I just got a text from her telling me
that she’s going back to the village.”
“Nalenhle? Did you fight?” he asks.
“Not really, we just argued and stopped talking. I don’t
think what could’ve led into her leaving town. She was in
the wrong, all I have been waiting for is her
acknowledging her mistake.”
“I would advise but I don’t know the context of the story,”
Xolani says.
Nzalo takes a deep breath and starts from the very
beginning. “I asked her to stop being friends with my
brother, Msindisi. I just felt like it was getting into his
head and making him disrespect me. I wasn’t saying
they shouldn’t talk or become enemies. I just needed a
few boundaries. Then she came home to check up on
him carrying food and a book, not knowing that I was
home. I got angry because we had a conversation and I
explained to her why their friendship made me
uncomfortable. That was it, I left them home and I didn’t
hear anything from her until this text of her saying
goodbye. I don’t know if they both planned it; leaving me
to be by myself. Because Msindisi also just left with a
one-day notice.”
“I also don’t hear any reason that might have made her
leave, from what you just told me. Maybe it’s something
personal, she will talk to you once she’s home,” Xolani
says.
“But we are in a relationship babomncane and she’s
making it sound like she’s not coming back anytime
soon.” His fear is evident. This is not what he expected,
after Msindisi left he thought she’d come to him and
they’d talk about what happened. He wasn’t angry about
her buying Msindisi a book gift and food; he was angry
because she made it seem like he was in the wrong.
Then started bringing up the past he thought they had
left behind. She could’ve just refused to end the
friendship, he wasn’t forcing her, he doesn’t have any
authority to choose friends for her. But she went along
with it, only for her to continue behind his back and then
use his past shortcoming to defend herself.
“Did you think Msindisi liked her?” His uncle asks, he
can see that there’s more than what meets the eye.
“He acted like he did but I know he didn’t, she was
available and he got comfortable to the point where he
became disrespectful towards me. Despite who he was,
I don’t like friends like that. There’s no girl I would ever
put first than Nale, regardless of her relationship with
them. But clearly she didn’t understand that or our
relationship didn’t mean much.” His last guess comes
with loud finger-popping; he’s stressed more than he
shows.
“Just keep trying, she will talk to you,” Xolani has no
better advice than this.
“I will,” he says, blowing a sigh.
What the hell, Nalenhle?!
.
.
.
NALENHLE
They’re both waiting me for on the road, as the
conductor offloads my bags, my uncle is hugging me. I
can’t point at anything, all I know is that I needed to be
home. They don’t ask me any questions until we get
home. I have a warm plate of food already waiting for
me. My room has been cleaned and bedding changed.
This is all my aunt and I appreciate her for it.
I finish eating and go to my room to unpack my suitcase,
she follows me.
“We have been worried the whole morning, I’m happy to
see you in one piece,” she says.
“Nothing happened, I just wanted to come home,” I say.
“You know you are always welcome home. How
is…what’s his name? The boy you’ve been seeing,” she
taps her fingers, trying to recollect her memory.
“Nzalo, I left him behind, he’s good,” I say.
“Was he still treating you right?” She obviously suspects
that I’m here because of my relationship problems.
“I think he was, we did have an argument and kind of got
distanced for a couple of days, but that’s not why I’m
home. I just wanted to be home,” I say.
“Okay. Is it about your mom?” she asks.
“No, it’s not about her.” I want my mom to rest in peace
and I believe she is finally free from the physical
limitations that made her life horrible.
“Is it Nokuzola moving out and leaving you?”
“No, I understand why she did,” I say.
She heaves a deep sigh and then steps closer to help
me. As I said, there’s nothing, I just didn’t want to be in
that loud place anymore.
.
.
.

I knew that my uncle would worry even after his wife

explains to him. I don’t want him to be stressed, I may
not be okay for now but I’m home now, I will be okay. I
talked to MaKhoza, I wanted to know if there was any
possibility that I could put Khanyisa in my spot. She’s a
single mom, I know how much she struggles. But I’m still
waiting for an answer on that. Fingers crossed, I will get
a call with positive news soon. I don’t know how far what
I have in my bank will take me but that’s the least of my
worries.
He's sitting on the chair outside, I bring out my own and
join him. It’s late evening, we just had dinner and about
to retire to our bedrooms. The moon is out, it promises
to be a warm night.
“Do you remember when you used to lie to us, saying
there’s a woman in the moon who was blew there by the
wind for collecting firewoods on a Sunday?” I ask.
He laughs, “Now it’s a lie? Don’t you see her, look
carefully.”
“No, that’s just a cloud shadow.” I’m grown now, I know
that no human being is living in the moon as God’s
punishment.
“Do you want us to visit your mom tomorrow?” he asks,
looking at me like he feels pity for me.
“Not really,” I say.
“Okay, no rush. But I will give her ibhayi- ceremony-
soon, we will celebrate her life. Your mother was a
strong woman, just like you are, she survived in a body
that was against her for 48 years. She never gave up,”
he says.
I don’t know why this makes me sad instead of proud.
“You’re welcome home, anytime you want to come back
the doors will always be open. For you, for your future
children and grandchildren, kusekhaya lapha,” he says.
“Thank you malume,” I belong here.
Most of my sorrows came from here and my soul
healing will come here.

We could’ve stayed outside the whole night but my body

needs to retire from commuting. I turn off the alarms that
wake up me for work and slide into a peaceful sleep.

My mom sits across me in a floral dress and beret. I

haven’t seen her in a while, I have been missing her so
much. I start telling her about everything that went down
in Tongaat, all the drama I found myself engaged into.
It’s a lot of stories and she’s just facing me. She hasn’t
responded or acknowledged anything that I’ve just told
her.
“Ma, did you hear me?” I ask.
Nothing. She’s silent.
I stand up, her eyes don’t move with me.
“Ma, look!” I say, my voice a little bit raised at her.
Nothing.
I start crying. Why wouldn’t she say anything to me or
just acknowledge me? I’m home, I came back just so I
can see her and she’s ignoring me.
“Nalenhle! Nalenhle!” Oh, finally.
She’s calling my name and pulling my hand.
“Nalenhle,” she yells.
I’m hearing my mom…my eyes open to my aunt waking
me up.
No, no, no!
“Hey, calm down. You’re okay, you’re home,” she says.
“It’s my mother,” I’m hurt.
My heart just broke into millions of pieces.
“Your mother?” She’s confused.
“She’s still blind and mute even in her after-life.”
“Oh God, Nalenhle!” She wraps her arms around me.
I can’t handle this. I thought the Bible said flesh remains
here on earth and the soul gets free. How come my
mother is still trapped in that flesh?
“Why is she still suffering?” I thought she was resting in
peace, that’s all I’ve asked from God. I have not asked
him for a car or house, just him to let my mother find her
peace at last.
“It was just a dream, Nalenhle. She visited you in the
form that you remember her in. Trust me, she’s not
suffering. The fact that she came to visit you in your
sleep means that she is finally free.”
“No, she is not.” I’m not stupid.
My mom is still suffering. God hated my mom from birth
to death.
.
.
.
NOKUZOLA

Nale can’t just up and leave.

I’m calling my mom to find out what’s going on because
her phone is off.
“Hello Nokuzola,” she answers.
“Hey mom, how are you all doing?”
“We are fine,” she says with a heavy sigh.
It’s either she’s stressed or she didn’t have enough
sleep.
“What happened? Why is Nale home?” I ask.
“I think she just needs a break,” she says.
“From what?” I’m confused.
“You know this has been a tough year for her and she
never really got a break to deal with everything,” she
says.
“I understand but what’s going to happen now? She will
leave her job that I worked hard to get for her and just
stay at home. I’m pregnant, in a few months I will be
taking a leave to raise the baby. How do you expect me
to take care of you, dad, Thami and Nalenhle?”
“Awu kahle Nokuzola, it’s not like your dad is not helping
out too,” she says.
“Oh, is that so? Can I also take a break? I also had a
tough year.” I don’t think my parents even care about
me. How can they allow this to happen?
Xolani may be well-off but I’m still a parent to this baby
to. I need to save, I can’t be asking for everything from
Xolani because I have three adults to take care of.
“What do you want me to do?” she asks.
I drop the call. What the fuck is happening? Who do the
Thabethes think they are? The Guptas?

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 82
NALENHLE

I’m seeking answers, and the traditional route to take

when enquiring about the late ones is a seer. My uncle
came with me, I have been to seers, I know what they’re
about. We sit on the laid grass-mat with our candle lit
and impepho burning. It’s a male seer trusted by my
uncle with his whole life, he’s trying to connect to our
ancestors.
He calls my father’s ancestors, praising their names.
When it’s time to move to the maternal side he calls the
Sibisis instead, my grandmother’s surname. I have
never looked at it that way. I think of myself as a
Thabethe- Thabethe. I know it’s not realistic but hearing
his approach fills a void I wasn’t even aware existed.
Whenever someone asks me what’s my mother’s
surname I can always say Sibisi, right?
“Your mother is looking over you,” he says.
“Looking?” I’m confused.
“Yes, she’s with you everywhere you go, she sees you.
On the other side it’s not the naked eye, her soul sees
you,” he says.
I look at my uncle, he’s nodding.
“I had a dream, she still couldn’t see,” I say.
“Was she sitting with her back against you or she was
facing you?”
“She was facing me,” I say.
He chuckles, looking at my uncle.
Damn, why didn’t I figure this out?
“So she’s looking over me?” This is music to my ears.
“Yes, and she’s not complaining about anything, she’s
very much at peace.”
“Thank you so much.” I feel a huge relief, like something
just got lifted off my shoulders.
Aunt did say it was a good visit though, I just didn’t
believe her. My uncle shows gratitude to the spiritual
guides by placing R100 note on the floor, then we leave.

I feel less heavy than I was yesterday.

“Are you satisfied?” my uncle asks as we head back
home.
“Very much happy,” I say.
“I know she’s at peace, I made peace with her decision
and let her go. After that I was able to cherish all the
memories we had together as almost-twins. Once that
was happening, I was able to make your aunt happy.”
“Eeeew!” I know what that means.
“What?” He looks at me, raising his eyebrow.
“You guys are old,” I say.
“Old to do what? Do you know how many cows I paid for
that woman and the things she puts up with you and the
other two?”
“I understand but ewww.” It doesn’t mean they have to
rub each other’s legs everyday.
“You will grow up one day and find a husband, then you
will make your own age restrictions,” he says.
I laugh, to be honest I’m not even thinking about finding
a husband right now. I can’t even properly handle a
boyfriend.
I spot a tree of waterberries, unfortunately I’m not going
to continue home until my tongue turns purple.
“No Nalenhle, you’re no longer a little girl, your legs are
too long to be climbing trees,” he says.
I know he just wants to rush back home to his wife. I
climb trees better than monkeys, I’m getting those
waterberries, I’m unemployed anyway, I can’t afford
fruits unless it’s wild fruits.
.
.
.
We join the small road heading home, there’s a familiar
car parked on the way. It’s just a few yards away from
home, I’m shocked and embarrassed. Didn’t his father
teach him anything at all? Mr X too? My goodness, this
guy.
“Do you know who is this?” my uncle asks.
I’d be damned!
“No, I have never seen this car before,” I say.
I’m sure he can see us by now, he can drive away and
park somewhere else, I’m with my uncle. But he doesn’t,
we get closer, my uncle knocks on his window. I will act
just as surprised when he shows his face. What the fuck
is he doing here? Who gave him directions?
“You are blocking my sheep and chickens,” my uncle
says.
He opens the door and climbs out, looking a bit scared.
“Sanibonani,” he says.
My uncle looks at me, I said I have no idea who this car
belongs to.
“You’re here plotting to attack my house or what?”
“I’m here to see Nalenhle malume,” he says.
The audacity of this guy!
“Well, Nalenhle has a home, you come and see her in
her home.”
“Aw malume!” I can’t have him coming with us.
It’s against the rules…his rules.
But he’s not playing, he’s not leaving me here with him.
“You should’ve called,” I hiss as he walks beside me.
“I tried,” he whispers.
This is not what I had in mind, I left the drama behind.
My aunt is outside, she’s surprised to see us arriving
with a guest she doesn’t know. She’s cool so I’m not that
worried about her. It’s my uncle I don’t trust. He knows
that I have a boyfriend, he accepts it because I don’t
leave him with a choice, but he doesn’t celebrate it.
We get inside, fortunately it’s sparking clean and well
organized.
“Who is with you?” aunt asks, looking at Nzalo.
“Nalenhle will introduce him, sit down.” Her husband
pulls her to sit down next to him.
Now it’s me and my illegal boyfriend who has zero
knowledge about village ways, and my uncle and aunt
opposite us. It almost looks like we are two teams.
“Nalenhle?”
“Umh, this is Nzalo,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“He was parked down the road, he says he’s here to see
Nalenhle,” her husband says.
“Here?” She’s shocked.
“No my love, let him see her.”
Okay, I wait for them to give us space.
Nothing.
“Don’t mind us,” he says.
How can I not mind them gawking at us?
“What happened?” Nzalo asks.
I thought he’d be clever enough not to go there.
“Nothing,” I say.
“You just left for nothing?”
“Yes,” I say.
“What about us?”
Really, this guy!
He glances at them, “I’m sorry malume nawe ma, but
she just left without explaining anything to me. I’m
confused.”
“Oh, how dare. Continue,” -my uncle.
Guess what? He continues.
“I thought you left because of what happened the last
time we spoke. It wasn’t that deep, I just thought you’d
at least say sorry, that’s what people say when they
have offended someone.”
“How did I offend you?” I ask.
“You know what I said I don’t want and you pretended to
respect it, only for you to do otherwise.” His voice is low
but they can hear him very well. My aunt is still in a state
of shock, this has never happened in her lifetime.
“I told you why I did it,” I say.
“I don’t care, Nalenhle. But it’s fine, as I said, you can
prioritize whoever you want. I just wanted to see that
you are okay, I was worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” I say.
“What happened to your tongue?”
I look at my uncle, asking about my tongue to him
equals to sexual intercourse.
“I was eating waterberries,” I say.
He locks his eyes on me, then his lips slowly breaks into
a smile. I smile and look away. What did he think
happened? I kissed someone until my tongue turned
purple?
“Should I move out with my wife?”
Now where is this coming from?
I look at him, “No, malume.”
“But there’s a new head now.”
Wait, didn’t he invite Nzalo in? I was even against it.
“Nzalo Hadebe, right?” he says.
Nzalo nods, “Yebo.”
“Next time you come here park your car away from my
house. Wait until she comes out of the house then talk
to her. This is a village, I don’t know what your father
taught you, but if you’re going to be a son-in-law here,
familiarize yourself with respect.”
I knew that it wasn’t a genuine invite, he was being
tested and he failed dismally.
.
.
.
I walk him out, it feels strange having him on my uncle’s
yard. I’m just glad no neighbor was outside to witness
this. We stop outside his car, I still can’t believe he came
all the way here.
“Your uncle is weird,” he says.
“No, you’re weird. Why did you follow us?”
“Because he said I can and I wanted to talk to you. You
look beautiful at home.”
I’m not beautiful, I’m wearing one of my old dresses, I
did coils on my hair, nothing about me screams the Nale
he met and fell in love with.
“Can I ask you a question?”
I nod, “Go ahead.”
“Should I wait for you?”
It’s not a complicated question, I don’t know why it
sounds heavy.
“I love you,” I say.
“And so do I. But do you still want this? Is it part of your
plans now that you have moved back here?” he asks.
“As I have said, I love you. I will always do, you will
always hold a special place in my heart. But I don’t want
to hold you back, you can wait, when you get tired you
have my blessing to move on with life.”
I expected a response but I get none. This is not what
he wanted to hear, I can see that he’s hurt. But I don’t
know how long I’m going to be here. I love him, God
knows that I do, I also know that he loves me too. But
we both have a lot of interpersonal issues to work on.
There’s He has to attend court, face his mother’s killers,
find a way to work on his relationship with Msindisi,
without me interfering. And I also have a lot to figure out
on my own. Love doesn’t always win but if it’s written in
the stars, we will be together again.
For now this is where we are.
.
.
.

No, I shouldn’t be crying. I made the decision, I decided

to come home and leave what I believed was my dream
for so long. It’s for the best, my soul tells me so. If he
waits for me he will get a better version of Nale, if he
doesn’t, he will move on to a better place.
I turn on my phone, messages flood in. Most were from
him, then there’s the angry bird, Nokuzola. I don’t know
what she’s angry at between me choosing
unemployment in an unstable economy or coming
home. I need her to focus on stepmothering and waiting
for her babydaddy who got shot to come home. She
moves in with Mr X everytime she feels like it. I don’t
have a sugar daddy to run to, I run home.

I’m going to buy a few things in town tomorrow to feed

the dead. I will give them a little tea-party, just to thank
them for protection and guidance so far.
“Nalenhle!” aunt yells from the kitchen.
I check my face and then make my way to her.
She looks at me in the eyes. “And now?”
“I was praying,” I lie.
“Okay, if you say so. You need to fetch your uncle’s
sheep, his ankle is giving him problems,” she says.
“Oh, you’re going to rub him?” I ask.
“Yes, then he will rest a bit. Please take them to the river
to drink water first before bringing them home. Don’t
leave the little lamb, you’ll have to carry her because
she injured her leg.”
Am I sure that I made the right decision by coming back
home?
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 83
NOKUZOLA

Living with Onathi has been like nothing I could have

ever imagined. I watched her from a distance and
concluded based on her attitude. But trust me, her bad
attitude is just a cover of her true personality. She’s just
a child that wears long weaves.
Today her dad is coming home, with everything that’s
been going on he’s one person she has been needing
the most. I’m also happy that he’s finally coming home
but he left things on a certain level with me and that’s
not going to automatically get resolved. I’m afraid we still
need to sit down and talk. I still love him, that’s why I
made it my responsibility to look after his daughter.
Nzalo is bringing him home, I had to arrange a little
welcome-home something. All the food here was
bought, I have cooked twice in this house and both
times Onathi dished me with bad reviews.
I have some flowers, Onathi made him a card, we are
ready.

Nzalo’s car arrives, I don’t know why I start panicking.

Everything is good, there’s enough food, the main
bedroom is ready for him. Onathi has ran outside to
them, I remain inside, I’m nervous.
Nzalo is the first one to walk in carrying a bag. I haven’t
had a chance to talk to him about Nale.
“I’m hungry,” he says, throwing the bag on the lounge
couch and proceeding to the table. He waits for no
permission before grabbing a sticky wing, he looks a bit
down.
“You know that she left her job, right?” I ask.
“And me, yes I know,” he says.
“You guys broke up?” I’d be shocked.
“Not exactly but she said I can move on,” he says.
SMH. I really don’t know what’s going on with Nale, she
still hasn’t returned my calls, she’s ignoring me on
Whatsapp.
“Did she tell you the reason?” I ask.
“She only said she wants to be home. I’m not backing
down though, I know what I want, now more than ever,”
he says.
I’m not sure what he plans on doing, his whole life is
here, he can’t follow Nale to the village. I turn my eyes
towards the door and there he comes, with Onathi
behind him talking nonstop. I sit still, he walks in with his
eyes on me. He knows very well if it wasn’t for this
unfortunate incident I wouldn’t have been here.
“So we were eating baked beans with soup,” Onathi
says.
“Was it good?” His eyes are still on me.
“It was better than head and feet curry.”
He laughs. His daughter still has a long way to go in life.
One day if she ever visits home with me, she will
experience real food.
“You dumped my bag on the couch for food?” he says to
Nzalo.
Nzalo hrugs and focuses on the food.
“Please help me,” he says to me.
He looks perfectly fine even though I can see that
there’s something under the T-shirt around his chest
area. I take the bag and lead him upstairs to his
bedroom. I made an effort for everything to meet his
standard.
I drop his bag on the floor, he sits on the bed.
“Hello Nokuzola,” he says.
“Hi, welcome home. Should I bring your food here?”
“No,” he says and stares at me.
I remain standing. For the first time it’s us, out of the
hospital, with no extra guest around.
“Sondela,” he says.
Deep breath. I take a step closer, he pulls me to sit
down.
“Is it painful?” I ask.
“No, it’s a healing wound. And I have a bunch of
painkillers.”
I nod, “That’s better.”
“Thank you for being here with Onathi. I can see nothing
is broken and she’s pleasantly stunned by the new
menu you introduced.”
“I did what I had to do,” I say.
His eyes are on me, I look back at him. His face gets
closer until his nose is touching mine.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t let them go alone,” he says softly.
I was mad, I felt disrespected again, but I get it.
“It’s okay,” I say.
“I value your opinion and I respect you, okay? We’ll
never go through what we went through, I’m never going
to hurt you again, I promise.”
I will believe it when I see it, for now I’m just risking it all
for my heart.
“Do you know what’s been on my mind since
yesterday?”
I shake my head, “No.”
“Sitting here with you next to me, holding your hand and
kissing you.” I turn my face too late, he traces my lips
until he fully nibbles on them. Gently kissing me with his
right hand wrapped behind my neck.
It’s been too long, I pull back but he still wants more.
Kissing him doesn’t feel different, my body warms up, I
open my lips for him to get deeper. Ah fuck!
My harsh breathing gives it away. I know he’s affected
the same way. We look at each other, knowing very well
that we can’t take it any further.
“My love,” he says.
His soft tone melts me. “Hey,” I smile.
“Can I have my food here? Tell our kids that I need to
rest.”
“I asked and you said no.” It looks like he’s going to be
needy, I can’t wait for him to fully recover.
.
.
.
They’re on the table, eating. When I walk in alone,
Onathi frowns.
“Where is Xolani?” she asks.
I thought she swore not to call him by name again if he
comes back home.
“He wants to rest, I will take his food upstairs. You, kids,
can enjoy yourselves here, he will see you in the
morning,” I say.
“But he didn’t even look at my card,” she complains.
Xolani knows that she’s happy to see him home, he will
spend time with her tomorrow. I take the card with his
food and flowers. Nzalo keeps her distracted, I hear him
talking about movies. Nzalo always understands the
assignment.

He looks up, “What’s all that now?”

“Card from your daughter and flowers from me.
Welcome back home, I will put the flowers by your side,”
I hand him the plate and Onathi’s card.
He smiles, reading it.
“I’m so proud of her,” he says.
“I know, she’s handling everything with grace. But at
some point she’ll want closure from MaMkhwanazi.” I
lived with Nale, I know what it does to a person not to
have the other parent. Onathi’s case is worse because
MaMkhwanazi gave her away and opted for the aunt
role instead. No child deserves that.
“At least she will know where to find her,” he says.
“What about you? Do you still have questions for her?”
I’m asking because throughout this relationship his past-
especially MaMkhwanazi- has been a part of the
baggage he came with. He constantly had to go back in
search for answers.
“I don’t, I only have a question for you,” he says.
“Alright, ask.” I adjust on the bed and look at him.
He takes a few bites first. “You didn’t cook this, did you?”
“No, I bought everything,” I say.
“Where did you get money?”
“I work, Xolani.” Hhayi-bo this man, he thinks I’m broke
without him. I have been digging in my pockets here and
there to keep our lives moving.
“I’m embarrassed, you need to write these pins
somewhere or save them in your phone.” He gives me a
pin for each card he has. I didn’t ask for them, I can take
care of myself and a teenage girl for a week or two,
without his assistance.
“I can’t make you leave your house to come here and
pay bills. I’m sure your parents already dislikes me,
imagine if they find out that uyazondla la, you take care
of yourself and look after my daughter instead of
sending money home.” He’s definitely exaggerating this,
my parents may disagree with some of my decisions but
they know that I’m a responsible person and I’m quite
smart.
Onathi comes and tells us that Nzalo is taking her out.
They both need it, they must go and bond as cousins. I
run a bath for my patient and take the plate to the
kitchen while he takes a bath. They left a mess in the
dining room, I’m not in the mood to clean, not that I ever
am. I just collect leftovers and put them in the fridge. I’m
not hungry, I only get myself a slice of cake and take
fruits upstairs.
He's done bathing, now he’s sitting naked because I
didn’t put his clothes on the bed. It’s going to be a long
week! I get his T-shirt and shorts, then help him lotion
his back. He can do it all himself, he just wants to have
his big baby moments.
“Have you spoken to Nale since she left? She broke
Nzalo’s heart,” he asks.
“I did reach out but she still hasn’t gotten back to me.”
It’s not something new, I have also left and came here,
didn’t speak to her for days. The only thing she did
different was quitting her job, I really don’t know what’s
going to happen with her. All I know is that I can’t take
care of everyone, I have a baby coming.
“Did she say anything at all?” Xolani asks.
“No, she just left without even telling me. We share rent,
so next week I have to save for rent and pay it alone.”
Even if she wasn’t my cousin, I’d expect better from her,
you don’t treat a roommate like that.
“I know at some point you guys will resolve it,” he says.
Other times have been different but we are family, so it
will get resolved. But I will never forget what she did.
“You’re going to sleep in our bed, angithi?”
“What do you think?” I ask.
“I don’t know but I’d like you to. I know you still have
certain feelings and I’m going to do everything in my
power to gain your trust.”
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Last time we spoke she was in Pretoria,” he says.
Interesting!
“And when was this?” I ask.
“It was a day after she came here. I just want to explain
one thing to you, I know you may not understand or
accept it. We have never dated or seen each other that
way, I had no feelings for her whatsoever. We worked
together most of the times, which will never happen
again, and I was single when we started, that’s when
favors began. I should’ve stopped after we met, there
are habits you cannot take into a relationship, I fucked
up. I apologize for all the pain I caused you. I just want
you to know that you’re the only person in my heart and
the only person I have had raw sex with in 3 years.”
I don’t accept it but I cannot change it either, so I’d
rather move on and talk about other things. Raw sex is
not an achievement, I have swollen breasts as we
speak.
“Why are you quiet?” he asks.
“I have nothing to say, I think I have expressed myself
enough. I just hope you heard me and I will never be
that angry, vile woman again. You made me say things I
wouldn’t have ever said to you, just because I wanted
you to feel the same pain I was feeling.”
He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “But it’s the
things you had thought about. Not that I blame you, I
also question my paternity at times but I look just like
them.”
I really shouldn’t have gone there. As unbelievable as it
might be, that came out of nowhere, I had never thought
about it before.
“I’m sorry I said that, and talking about your relationship
with your mother. You have listened to my struggles with
my dad and never made fun of them, I’d take it back if I
could.”
“It’s fine makoti, I’m not holding a grudge,” he says.
I know he’s not holding a grudge but I think it will always
be at the back of his mind.
“How is my little peanut?” He opens his arm, I carefully
sit against him. He touches my tummy, there are some
changes but I still wear a dress and look like the normal
Zola.
“Growing a bit,” I say.
He turns his eyes to me. Something has changed from
how they were a minute ago; he looks proud. “It is my
baby," he says.
It sounds like a question but he’s not really asking.
“Yeah, it’s your baby,” I say.
His hand wraps around my tummy. “This is my first time
in 43 years making someone pregnant and knowing
about it. A lot was happening when I found out, I don’t
think it has sunk in yet. I need to celebrate me.”
“Celebrate you? Who is pregnant kanti?” I’m so
confused.
“We are both pregnant,” he smiles. “But there are things
that are a personal achievement, like this one, it means
a lot to me. I’m a whole man, I have a family, Nokuzola.
God is giving me everything all at once, I don’t even
know what to thank him for first.”
“Maybe saving your life first, you could’ve died,” I say.
“I can’t kneel, just hold my mind.” Oh, he meant really
praying.
I thought he was going to thank God in his little corner,
alone and silently. I have never heard him pray before,
let’s hear it.
.
.
.

Medication drove him to sleep early, I waited until Onathi

came home before sleeping. I didn’t sleep early but now
I have to wake up because he’s awake.
“What do you need?” I ask.
“Just you, please face me,” he says.
I turn and sleep on my right side, facing him.
“Ulale kanjani?” he asks.
“I slept well, just a bit late because I waited for Onathi.
Wena?”
“Like a baby,” he says.
I nod and close my eyes again.
“I want to go and check at the pub, I know others were
under good care, I’m only worried because they were
short-stuffed and it was probably busy over the
weekend.”
“So the doctor said you must go back to work today?” I
ask.
“But I’m only going to check, I’m not going to work,” he
says.
“If you say so.” It’s too early for arguments.
“Mana phela mama, don’t sleep.” He puts his hand on
my cheek, I have no choice but to open my eyes.
“Maybe Hadebe no longer works, you are not even
checking. Don’t you miss your man kanti?”
“Your body needs to heal,” I say.
“My lower body isn’t hurt. I don’t want you to starve,
please pull this thing down and have fun.” He wants me
to take advantage of him.
“No,” I refuse.
“It’s been a long time Nokuzola, please, I will help you.
Ngikukhumbule."
I’ve had moments where I really craved for a man. But I
have self-control, I can go for months without having
sex.
“I didn’t see any condoms here when I was cleaning,” I
say.
He sighs, “Condom? You’re pregnant already nje.”
“Yeah but you’re not a faithful person,” I say.
“Look in the bathroom,” he’s hurt.
Unfortunately it’s going to be this way until I decide
otherwise.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 84
NALENHLE

Nothing is really interesting in a rural village. There’s

one routine everyday; wake up, cook and clean, then
sleep. Not even the gossip in between can entertain me.
There’s only one shop around and it only sells bread
and kids’ goodies. I couldn’t get Khanyisa to take over
my place but she went for a cleaning post and got the
job. I’m happy for her but with her also gone it means
I’m always alone and bored at home. Thami is a boy, he
can leave in the morning and only come back around
dinner time. My uncle’s attention is on his wife and
sheep.

Today I did everything early, now I’m bored in front of

our 4 channel TV. With all that said, I still don’t miss
Tongaat. I have so much peace here and it’s wild fruits
season, when I’m done eating I go out to the bushes for
wash-down.
My phone rings, it’s my ex or soon-to-be ex, Nzalo.
“Hey,” I answer.
We haven’t talked since he came here the other day. I
thought he moved on already.
“I’m on my way, what should I bring you?”
“On your way where?” I’m confused.
“Ngizok’bona, what should I bring you?”
But…didn’t I tell him to wait for me or move on? Right
now he’s doing none.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Okay, I will just buy what I like. I will be there in an
hour,” he says and drops the call
Someone find me, I’m confused. Why is he coming
here?
“Nalenhle!” my aunt.
This one never has a good timing.
“I’m coming,” I leave my phone in the charger and go to
her.
“Remember I asked you to go and get izintanga
ensimini. Your uncle asked for them, I will make them
quickly and serve them as a salad,” she says.
“No malumekazi, I don’t remember,” I say.
“Well, now you remember. Get a plastic bag and go
before it gets late.”
Yeah, I wanted to be home, right?
Nzalo is coming, I can’t be appearing between pumkin
plants like a rabbit.
“My body is itchy, I have to take a bath first,” I say.
“But you can bath when you come back, you will get
dirty anyway, it’s between congested maize plants,” she
says.
“No, I prefer to bath first.”
I need time, at least leave the house in 45 minutes when
Nzalo is close. Our family cultivating field is a bit distant
from the house, nobody will know that he’s here.
.
.
.

I’m okay if this guy leaves me, yet I’m making an effort
to compete with his potential future girlfriends. I wear a
push-up bra and floral shirt, leaving all the top buttons
open. I have a lot of mini skirts, I put on a pleated one
and seal the look with white sneakers.
“Hhayi-bo, uyaphi manje? I thought you were going to
get me izintanga to cook for your uncle,” says my aunt
walking in without knocking.
“This is how I dress in Tongaat,” I say.
“But you’re not in Tongaat, I’m sending you to the field.”
“I want to look beautiful for the sheep and goats,” I say.
She gives me a weird look and tosses a plastic bag to
me. I think he’s almost here, I put on the lipgloss and
some perfume. Mirror twirl! I look better than all his
potential future girlfriends combined.

He calls, I’ve been sitting by the road for almost ten

minutes. I direct him to where I am and ask that he
leaves the car in a distance. There are no hijackers
around here, he will find his car intact.
I see him walking towards me, you can tell from how he
walks that he’s not from around here. I don’t know why
I’m so charmed, like I have never seen him before.
Didn’t I propose a possible break up?
“Hello stranger,” he says.
“Hi,” I’m hypnotized, it’s not even funny.
His brows slightly furrow, he’s smiling with confusion.
“Are you alright?”
“I…I’m okay.” Shwele, is it my first time seeing a man?
Snap out of it, Nale.
“Why are you here Nzalo?” I ask.
“I’m here to see my girlfriend. Awusakhumbuli
ungiqoma? You agreed to be one, remember?”
So everything I said the other day when he was here
meant nothing to him.
“But I said you have to wait for me to come back or
move on,” I remind him.
“What did I choose?” he asks.
I roll my eyes, really now?
“Nothing,” I say.
“Exactly. Are we going to stand here?”
“I’m actually going inside the field, my aunt sent me.”
“Okay, let’s go in,” he says.
My eyes widen. In my aunt’s field?
What will people say?
“Or we can go to the car, your things are there.”
My things? I didn’t ask him for anything.
We decide to go to his car and spend some time. I will
see izintanga later.

He opens the back door, there’s a full shopping bag and

a box of pizza on the seat. When was the last time I ate
pizza? I’ve been eating amagwinya and aunt’s steam
bread. I take it to the front seat with me.
“Are you happy here so far?” he asks.
“It’s boring but I’m happy. I did a small tea-party for the
underground gang and my mother has been visiting me
in my dreams. Spiritually, I’m in a very good place.”
“I’m happy for you,” he says.
“What about you? Did you go to court?”
“Yeah, I did,” he clearly doesn’t want to go into details.
I understand, he has to re-live the day his mother died.
“Have you spoken to Msindisi?” I ask.
“Yeah, we speak every now and then,” he says.
“I still don’t understand why he left. He asked if you’ve
told me something about him, next thing I heard he was
leaving.” I’m still confused.
“Nothing, he wanted to be away, just like you.”
I feel like there’s something going on with Msindisi and
he’s hiding it from me. I already know everything about
them, what could be so bad?
“I can’t believe we celebrated 6 months together and
then you left. I have never felt so heartbroken but this is
the time for me to prove myself to you. I’m not perfect
but I love you,” he says.
“I didn’t leave because of you, I just ran out of purpose,”
I say.
“Our relationship should’ve given you purpose. Am I that
bad?”
“No.” I love him for who he is.
I may have complained about a few things but none of it
would’ve made me turn my back on our relationship. It
wasn’t him, it was everything.
“I feel like babomncane before Zola right now,” he says,
chuckling and shaking his head.
“You’re lonely?” I ask.
“Yeah, I went from having a girlfriend and family. A
stepmother and a brother, whom I could always go to for
company, food and prayer, to completely being by
myself in an empty house everyday.”
I feel sorry for him, I wish I could’ve had a choice to
choose time. However, I didn’t plan to leave when I left.
“But maybe this period will help me connect more to
myself and hopefully find a girlfriend, as you suggested,”
he says.
This pizza is delicious, I just wish I could’ve warmed it
first.
“I downloaded Tinder,” he says.
The slice of pizza almost choke me to death.
“You did what?” I didn’t hear that well.
“I downloaded Tinder,” he repeats. “Remember you said
I have your blessing to look for someone who will fill in
your shoes.”
“Nobody can ever fill my shoes and I’m taking back my
blessing.” It hasn’t even been two years since I said that
but he’s already on Tinder. Fuck men!
“You had this Tinder all along, right?” I ask.
“No, I didn’t,” he denies.
He’s a liar!
“No, you had it Nzalo. It can’t be that in a week you have
done a dating app research, selected one that’s suitable
for you and downloaded it.” I refuse to believe that this
happened in one week.
“You know that downloading only takes a couple of
clicks, not research and selection process.” Now he’s
playing smart, I wasn’t born yesterday.
“I don’t care, delete it,” I say.
His pupils dilate, humorously. “Why?”
“I took back my blessing.” It’s not that hard to
understand.
He laughs, “I was joking, meeting a girl in my father’s
funeral is better than Tinder.”
One day I will wake up in ICU because of this man. I
close the box of pizza and put it away, then drink some
water before kissing him.
“Is this how we are going to see each other now?” he
asks.
“This is how unofficial boyfriends see their girlfriends in
the village,” I say.
He smiles, “Well, I don’t mind. I have a busy schedule
until the end of this week but I will definitely come and
see you between Saturday and Sunday. Okay?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
He captures my lips in another deep kiss and then lets
me go.
He looks at me with some admiration and then smiles.
“Jobless gang, how are you going to do your nails now?”
“I have a nail clipper, it works like magic,” I say.
“What if I mistakenly take your hand and scratch myself
thinking it’s my hand?”
That has never happened anywhere in the world. There
are many girls who keep their nails short, maybe the
only difference is that they have sane boyfriends.
“Open that wallet and see what you find,” he says.
“For real?” God really loves me.
I grab the wallet and open it. I know he didn’t keep this
money by mistake, he withdrew it for me. Do I have to
leave some for him to pay for petrol?
“They have speedpoints in petrol garages, right?” I ask.
He laughs, “No.”
Silly, I know they do. I’m taking all of it, I will count it at
home.
I don’t trust anybody with money, I push it inside my bra.
“Thank you,” I say once it’s safely tucked in.
“No kiss?”
I lean over and kiss him.
.
.
.
I find it so thoughtful and romantic of him to bring me a
bag full of goodies. In the village I cannot get most of
these anywhere unless I go to town. My aunt’s meals
are always solid, I will have something to snack on for at
least a week. Watching him drive away breaks my heart,
but it’s getting dark and he still has a long way to drive.
I’m lucky our outside light bulb burst yesterday, I sneak
with my pizza and goodies bag to Thami’s rondavel.
He’s inside doing his homework.
He looks up, “What is that?”
“Shhh!” I carefully shut the door and put it all on his
study table.
“Don’t say anything, I will share everything with you,” I
say.
“But where did it come from? You didn’t go to town
today.”
“Just like you have a girlfriend you ask money to buy
things for, I also have a boyfriend who buy things for me.
Can I leave it here and fetch it once they go to bed?”
“No!” he says.
“I was going to give you R50 but since…”
“Okay, okay. Deal!”
Why did I have to beg? Kids!
“You can have the pizza and some chips.” I have to go
to the main house and show them that I’m home before
they suspect something else.
I walk in, they both look up and stare at me. Mean, solid
stares.
“Is it my turn to wash dishes?” I’m confused.
Silence.
Okay, they’re probably going through a menopause
mood together.
I head to my room.
“Nale,” aunt calls me back.
I turn and look at them.
“Iphi imfino? I sent you to get me pumkin leaves to cook
for your uncle, where are they?”
This right here is called a disaster. How did I forget the
main thing I left the house for?
“I went there….”
“And?”
Jesu wami!
“I think Zama’s father’s goats are the ones who ate the
pumkin leaves. I found them inside the field.” I hope
those innocent goats will find it in their hearts to forgive
me.
“Zadla no-plastic? They also ate the plastic bag?”
Oh shit, I left with an empty plastic bag. I don’t even
remember where I threw it, maybe I left in Nzalo’s car.
“Yazi Thabethe, I always tell those people to look after
their goats!”
God please, she mustn’t confront them. I’m not here to
cause trouble in the village, I’m a peaceful person.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 85
NOKUZOLA

I gave our landlord a month notice and paid rent in full.

Nzalo helped us move everything from the house to
Xolani’s garage. We didn’t have a lot, just a few furniture
and two beds. I don’t know what I’m going to do with
them yet. They can’t be in the garage forever, Xolani will
need his space. So it’s between selling everything or
hiring a truck to take them home. If I’m selling, I will sell
even Nale’s bed and not give her the money because
the least she could’ve done is take off the burden of
moving her belongings around.

I’m going home tomorrow, I didn’t tell them. I can’t run

away forever, they already know that I’m pregnant. I
need to have a conversation with my dad, there’s been a
new update since I told him that I’m calling things off
with the Hadebes. Xolani wants to pay for the damages
and continue where he left off with lobola. I don’t know
when he wants to have the actual wedding but things
will have to be a little faster since there’s already a baby
on the way and I have moved in with him. Am I happy?
Absolutely. We both work, I see him in the afternoons,
sometimes he comes home after 8pm, there’s nothing I
can say moving in with him changed. There’s a helper, I
come home to a clean house, most of the times he gets
dinner arranged. I only did what I’d say is too much
chores when he just came from the hospital. He’s strong
as an ox, it didn’t take more than three days for him to
be back on his feet.

Today he’s later than usual, Onathi has already gone to

bed, it’s almost 22h00. He was held up in the pub, he
was calling every 10 minutes letting me know, he didn’t
want to start suspecting him of other things. I’m waiting
for him in the kitchen, having a cup of hot chocolate.
I hear him driving in, a few minutes later he’s walking in
and my heart just melts.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, coming to hug me.
“It’s okay,” I kiss his lips and go back to my hot
chocolate.
“Is she in her room?” he asks.
“Yeah but she’s okay, we had spaghetti and cheese,
then some ice-cream,” I say.
“Okay my love, I will take a bath, I already ate,” he says.
“I will finish my chocolate and follow.” I think we are
slowly moving to a better place.
I’m healing and enjoying being his woman again. I took
the car back, commuting got tiring.
I finish my hot chocolate and head to the bedroom. He’s
still taking a bath, I brush my teeth in the sink and then
wait for him in bed.
I have given him a hard time, he’s been walking around
eggshells and overcompensating, especially when he’s
not home, he calls endlessly to prove that he’s not with
anyone. It’s a stage we have to go through but there are
other things I can appreciate him for regardless of what
he did.
He comes out of the bathroom, being butt naked is his
new habit when we are in the bedroom alone. He
could’ve taken his clothes with him.
“At least wrap a towel around,” I say.
“It’s just me and you,” he says.
“I want to massage you and your nakedness will distract
me.” I don’t want to massage him while looking at his
butt. But he doesn’t care, he sits on the bed and
connects his phone to the charger.
“I want to give you a massage, you’ll have to lie down,” I
say.
“So you’re serious?” He looks surprised.
I’m a nice person, aren’t I?
“You work hard everyday and I benefit from it.” He’s
done a lot for me; he sheds off a lot of financial burden.
Nale calls him a sugar daddy but I know that’s not what
he is. He doesn’t do all that he does for sexual favours,
it’s how he shows his power as a man and the ability
that he can take care of me. He’s from that generation, a
man has to prove himself by being a provider. He’s not a
sugardaddy, he’s a man.
“I love you,” I say.
“Hawu Nokuzola,” he’s out of words.
I haven’t been the nicest to him and this seems to come
out of nowhere.
“I do, and I want you to be happy. Nothing has changed
from the promises I made to you when we got together, I
just want to be your peaceful place,” I say.
“You are my peaceful place, I look forward to coming
home to you everyday. And thank you, Nokuzola, I
appreciate you.” He pulls me and wraps his arms around
me.
It feels like home. I know I wouldn’t want to be in any
man’s arms. He brushes my tummy and then kisses my
cheek.
“Your words just made me happy,” he says.
I know how to get to his heart, I know my way around.
Little things melt him, he’s a sucker for affection.
“Do you want the massage or not?” I ask.
He smiles, “I want it, please.”
“Then get on your stomach, I will get the oil.”
I have never given any man a massage before, love will
make you do crazy things. I get the oil and rub it in my
hands, then start around his neck to the shoulders. His
low moans tell me that I’m doing a good job. This man
can leave before 7am and comes back at 8pm. He has
people running his business establishments but he’s still
just as much involved.
I stop around his waist, I don’t know if he’s fallen asleep.
I get off the bed, his hand grabs me.
“Please continue,” he says.
“Your legs?” I ask.
“Everywhere, it feels good.”
I don’t think I’m massaging his butt, I will skip to his back
thighs and then go to his feet.
And then now? See, this is why I wanted him to wear
something. Why is he moving like he’s making love to
the bed?
“Don’t be naughty,” I say.
He chuckles, “Can I face up? I need massage down
here as well.”
He’s taking it too far. He turns around, looking horny and
sleepy at the same time.
He wants a kiss, I know where this is going. He pulls me
to the bed and pins me down, rolling over me and
desperation kisses me while trying to find access under
my dress.
“When is my sentence ending? I miss feeling you.” His
fingers are tapping between my folds.
He traces my lips with a kiss before giving me a chance
to respond.
“Condom, Xolani,” I say.
“Why are you doing this to me? You think I don’t check
my health status and I’d do something to put you and my
baby at risk?”
He’s really turning me off.
“We can have this conversation some other time, fuck
me or let me go, please.” I know he likes a but of
fussiness in bed. As soon as I give him the ultimatum,
he shuts me with a kiss and pulls the panty to the side,
almost tearing it, and rubs my clit.
“Let’s continue,” he says.
“Then get the condom,” I say firmly.
He inhales sharply and then gets off. He’s not satisfied
but he needs to release. He gets it and comes back,
kissing me like he’s being forced to.
“Are you no longer in the mood?” I ask.
“But Nokuzola this is not fair, one minute you say we are
alright, next you’re punishing me. After you give birth
you will have another excuse for us to use condoms
everyday. Nami ngiwumuntu, treat me like your man, not
a hook-up.” He’s ranting because I asked for a condom.
All this speech, just for a condom!
“Ngichamela kuplastic everyday like I’m in a brothel, in
my house with the mother of my children. When am I
getting a break? Just for once…”
Sigh.
“Leave the condom,” I say.
“I’m not forcing you, I’m just asking for freedom. I’m
clean, you know that. I just want to be inside you and be
warm,” he says.
“I said it’s fine.” Gosh, I will turn dry discussing this.
“I love you, MaThabethe. I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m
grateful.”
Sigh!
He kisses me, I welcome his lips and open my legs for
him. I need to be more wet, he rubs his tip on my clit and
teases my opening until I’m moist enough. Then he
pushes in half of his shaft.
His eyes shut, he pushes in every inch until fully buried
inside.
“Nokuzola,” his head is against me, breaths escalating.
I wrap my arms around his waist, “Yes babe?”
“Ungang’lahli, amathemba ami wonke akuwe, don’t
leave me.”
“I won’t,” I say.
He moves; I wrap my legs around him.
Our breath collide, he’s deep where I want him to be.
He’s hitting the corners I want him to hit, I don’t want him
to pull out even though I can see that he needs a
moment, he’s strained.
He moans, enjoying every thrust. “Ohhh, dali wami!”
“Yes Hadebe,”
“Where were you? I looked for you my whole life,
ungafiki.”
“I’m here now,” I say.
“Ungahambi nenkomo yami, Nokuzola.” His pace picks
up, I know what’s about to come.
I unwrap my legs but it’s too late.
“I’m cumming dali, I’m cumming!”
I can have a say but it won’t change anything.
“Chama Hadebe,” I say.
That triggers a loud groan, I have to cover his mouth
before the whole Tongaat finds out that I have a tight
cookie. I only remove it when he’s quiet, just breathing
with his mouth open.
He opens his eyes, “I love you.”
.
.
.

One thing I didn’t want was to see my dad first. But

guess who is in the yard? Him.
I park in the yard and make my way to him, to greet.
“This is a surprise!” he smiles.
“I just missed home. Ninjani?”
“No complain, we are all well.”
He’s surprisingly nice and not even asking about the
pregnancy or the car. I make my way in the house, Nale
is in the kitchen peeling potatoes. Finally, we meet!
She’s been ignoring me for weeks, I’m not even sure I
want to greet her. Luckily mom appears, looking all
excited and surprised.
“You could’ve told me that you’re coming,” she says.
“I wanted to surprise you guys.” Particularly this one
who’s been avoiding me.
She hugs me, “You’re glowing, hey. How are you?”
“I’m good,” I say.
“Good and pregnant, say it. Do you see the results of
not listening to us? Are you happy now?”
“Surprisingly, I am,” I say.
“In labor ward you won’t be. It’s not going to be nice as it
was when you created it,” she says.
Should she be scaring me off, not comforting me?
I will cross that bridge when I get there.
“Where is Thami? He needs to get things from the car.” I
look for a cup and get water.
Nale and I haven’t exchanged words.
“I will get him,” mom says, walking out.
Now it’s the two of us, she’s peeling the potatoes and
acting like I don’t exist.
“Hello,” I say.
“Hi,” she responds, focused on her potatoes.
“You could’ve been a decent human being and notified
me and our landlord before leaving,” I say.
“Really? After all the rubbish you’ve said on Whatsapp?”
She’s referring to my venting texts.
I was frustrated, that’s what happens when a roommate
does you dirty.
“You notified Nzalo, why couldn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“Were we on good terms?” She wants to pin it on that
now.
We were on speaking terms, that’s what important. And
she wasn’t on good terms with Nzalo either, yet she told
him.
“What is your real issue?” she asks.
“My real issue is that you left without telling me, we lived
together and shared expenses. I’ve had to pay rent
alone and move the furniture to Xolani’s garage. You left
everything for me, you didn’t consider how that might
affect me financially.”
“I wasn’t thinking about all of that and when it clicked, I
was going to try and sort it out, but you started going off
like I’m a kid that needed your permission. If my uncle
says I can come home, who are you to tell me that I
can’t?”
“You can do whatever you want Nale but don’t be a self-
centered person. I have left too but I held my end and
took responsibility when I had to.” I know she’s not going
to apologize and pin it on me lashing out on her, as if I
was supposed to coddle her for bad behavior.
“What’s going on?” Dad walks in.
I’m done talking, nothing is going on.
She leaves the potatoes she was peeling and storms
out. Now her uncle will follow, typical Nale.
He looks at me, “What’s going on?”
“You should ask the one who just stormed out, not me.”
“Now you’re giving me attitude, I’m asking a question
because there’s an argument in my house,” he says.
Slowly the responsibility will be placed on me and I’m
just not having it today.
“I’m not arguing with anyone. Who did you hear
arguing?” I ask.
“Nokuzola! Just because you talk to certain people my
age anyhow doesn’t mean disrespect me as well, I’m
your father,” he says.
Mom walks in to the exchange and asks him to the
bedroom. I need more water, this environment is too
toxic.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 86
NOKUZOLA
After dinner mom calls me to the side, I know a
confrontation is coming. Nale who stormed out while dad
was speaking is on her phone, not accused of any
disrespect. And here I am, being told how disrespectful I
was to her husband.
“You need to apologize to your dad. You know if you
weren’t pregnant he would’ve whooped your ass,” she
says.
“Okay, I will talk to him,” I’m just exhausted.
“Please do. Have you seen the doctor yet?”
“No, we are yet to make our first doctor visit together," I
say.
“Why did you go back? Because you’re pregnant?”
I shake my head, “No, I love him.”
“Mntanami be careful please,” she’s lost trust in Xolani.
She glances over to Nale and then comes closer to me,
whispering excitedly. “I think she has a boyfriend, here in
the village.”
“Is that good news?” I’m confused.
“Yeah, better than a city boy who knows nothing about
village life and culture.”
That must be Nzalo. I don’t know how I feel about Nale
breaking up with him and dating someone else here. If
it’s true, she’s just looking for a rebound, nothing more.

Dad is sitting outside, shirtless. It’s a bit hot today, I take

my own chair and join him. I know he’s mad, not
because I talked back but because I made his niece
angry.
“Mom says I should apologize for how I spoke to you,” I
say.
He doesn’t respond, he just glances at me once and
shifts his eyes away.
“At times I feel like you enable Nale’s behavior. I’m here
specifically to address issues between us and you want
to pick a side.” I always let things slide because for a
very long time I’ve been scared to confront my dad.
“I asked what was going on to both of you. Why is
everything about sides? I deserve to know what’s going
on in my house,” he says.
“What’s going on is that your niece moved out without
letting me know, leaving everything to me. You told her
to come back home without even considering the burden
that will leave to me. She quit her job, dad.” He could’ve
reasoned with her, Nale listens to him.
“What did you want me to say? Tell her not to come
home even when I could hear that she wasn’t okay? I
would’ve done the same to you, I’m not going to lose
any of you. I lost my job when you were 19 years old
and you never went to bed with an empty stomach. I
don’t care if you’re 50 or she’s 50, if the going gets
tough I will need you back home. I can take care of my
family, I always make a plan.”
“I don’t think you would’ve done the same for me. No
matter how much I help you out, you will always
disregard my feelings. You wouldn't have done the
same.” Not that I will ever want to come back and stay
here full-time. He may have done it one time when he
paid for a bakkie to fetch me but that was for a different
case.
“You’re my princess, the first person to ever call me dad,
and I love you. But this is my house, you’re not going to
tell me what to do and when. I appreciate you helping
out but if that means you’re going to be like this towards
me, then I’d rather you stop and just look after yourself.”
Tears burn my eyes. Nobody wants to hear such words
coming from their parent. How come nobody
understands where I’m coming from?
“You have moved in with a man that made you pregnant.
If you trust him so much you shouldn’t be throwing a
tantrum about your cousin leaving you under his care.
It’s unfair of you to want her in a place that could’ve
possibly broken her, just because you want to have
somewhere to run back to if things don’t go your way.”
He stands up and picks his chair.
“I don’t know why you’re crying,” he stops and looks at
me.
I don’t respond, he walks in.

Two minutes later Nale is walking out.

“I will send you the half I was supposed to pay,” she
says.
“This is not about the fuckin’ money, you don’t care for
other people Nale.” How is it possible that nobody gets
it? Nale doesn’t care about anyone beside herself.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” she says.
It took her weeks to be sorry and I don’t even think she
means it.
“I felt overwhelmed and sad. I was alone, you weren’t
there. I didn’t see beyond what I was feeling. I know I
should’ve said something and held my end of bargain.
But you made it seem like you were more mad at me
leaving then it was about the house, that’s why I ignored
you.”
Fuck, I hate that I’m crying on my first day home.
Everyone should be happy when they’re home and
seeing their family.
“Dad says I must stop helping them just because I
expressed how I feel. Why does everyone expect me to
just take everything and keep it moving, as if I have no
feelings?” I’m confused, I’m not a rock, I’m a human
being.
“Because of how you express yourself, Zola. You say I’m
self-centered, well you’re very mean when you like and
it’s hard to listen to you,” she says.
I know who I am, I know that I’m not a mean person.
“How is it mean to ask questions?” I ask.
“How you deliver your questions is very mean and you
know that you’re sensitive, if I had replied back you
wouldn’t have liked it,” she says.
“Now I’m sensitive? You don’t get the same heat that I
get.” She literally gets away with everything. They’ve
never misunderstood her, everything she does gets
linked to how she was born and swept under the carpet.
“That’s not true, I get just as much scolding, if not more.
You’re sensitive and I don’t care, so I never dwell on
who shouted at me and what they said. This is your
dad’s house but it’s my home as well. Don’t be that
daughter who turns the mood sour for outsiders when
she’s home.” She goes back inside.
What the fuck? I didn’t call her an outsider, never have I
ever treated her like one. Oh my goodness, I shouldn’t
have come here.

His phone rings twice, he answers.

“Makoti,”
“I’m coming back tomorrow.”
“What’s happening? Have you been crying?”
“Everyone just misunderstands me. I don’t know what
else to do. I came here to have a conversation with Nale
but now it’s everyone against me.”
“Okay, I just hope it doesn’t put me in trouble with
Thabethe. I don’t want him to think I’m interfering in his
family issues.” He doesn’t want me to come back
tomorrow.
I can’t believe this.
“Nokuzola,” he says.
“I’m listening.” I’m holding back tears.
“Please try to resolve it before you leave, for my sake,
ngiyacela.”
Zola should be a bigger person, always. I drop the call
and switch my phone off.
.
.
.
I feel light-headed when I wake up, usually I wake up at
night and snack on something. I wake up and visit the
loo, then wash my face and go to the kitchen.
Nale is here, sigh.
“Morning,” I say, taking a kettle from her side.
“How did you sleep?” she asks.
“Good, I’m surprised you care.”
“Come on, I apologized and said I will pay what I owe
you,” she says.
“After weeks? You should save it. Who is the new
boyfriend?” I deserve to know.
We tell each other everything, whether we are fighting or
not.
“New boyfriend?” She looks confused.
“Mom said you have a new boyfriend here in the village.
So who is it? Do I know him?” I don’t know anyone I
could approve of, most guys here have known scandals.
“It’s Nzalo, he comes and checks me, I don’t know why
she thinks it’s someone from the village, nobody is my
type here,” she laughs.
“I thought you guys broke up,” I’m confused.
“I suggested it and he refused, so we are doing it in a
distance now. And guess what? I’m loving it, he’s pulled
up his socks and doing everything I asked him to do
when I was still close and forever available for him.”
“I think he panicked, he wasn’t okay when I saw him.”
I’m glad they are still together, I still think he’s right for
her.
My water boils, I make tea and bread.
“I’m leaving today,” I say.
“You just got here yesterday. Is it because you argued
with your dad?”
“I came here specifically for you but I also wanted to talk
to him about the damages. I don’t think we will talk
today, I will leave the message with mom,” I say.
“Is Mr X sending his people again?”
“Yeah, he has to,” I say.
“And you want to marry him, you’re sure?”
I nod, “Yes, I do but I’m scared. I’m healing from a
heartbreak and I'm pregnant, and now I only have him
and his family as a support system.”
“But you have me and the whole family. You’re not an
orphan.” She doesn’t get it.
Now circumstances force me to be next to him, whether
I like it or not. If I wasn’t pregnant I could’ve rented a
backroom somewhere, just to have my own space to fall
back to.
“And I think he learned his lesson. He knows better than
to trigger your “crazy” buttons again,” she says.
“It’s too soon for me to fully trust him again but it is what
it is.” This is part of growing up, I want to spend the rest
of my life with him and it begins here.
.
.
.

I’m back, only Onathi is home. I ask her to take my bag

to the bedroom and fix a snack. My phone rings as I sit
down, it’s my mother.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Have you arrived?”
“Yeah, I just arrived.”
“This thing between you and your father really stresses
me. Now he’s blaming me for letting you leave while he
wasn’t home.”
“Awu, but I made it known that I was leaving today,” I’m
confused. I didn’t sneak out, I was getting ready in front
of him, then he decided to go with his sheep.
“You still have to tell him, he mustn’t catch it in the air,”
she says.
“Fine, I will call him.” Sigh.
Dad wasn’t even supposed to get involved, this is
getting on my last nerve. I’m always doing something
wrong in his eyes. I call his phone.
“Thabethe,” I say when he answers.
“Now you leave without saying goodbye?”
“But you heard me saying I’m coming back today and
you decided to go with your sheep. If you were home I
would’ve said goodbye,” I say.
“Do you know that you still need my blessing? Even
when you’re in that house you’re protected by the
Thabethe ancestors, you’re just a stranger to the
Hadebes.”
“I do know that,” I say.
“I don’t think you do, please be a child that you are.
Don’t put that man on top of my head, giving him power
to disrespect me,” he says.
But Xolani didn’t do anything, I chose to come back.
“I will talk to your mother about the message you left,”
he says and drops my call.
I can’t say I’m shocked that he’s mad at me for leaving,
even though I wasn’t obliged to stay until tomorrow. But
taking it out on Xolani is taking it to a different level.
Xolani has never disrespected my family, not even Nale
who’s provoked him every way possible.
.
.
.

AT THE THABETHES

Thabethe has been venting, and just like most

husbands, he’s pinning Zola’s behavior on her mother.
She’s tried to sort it out, Zola just called him but he’s still
going on.
“He has a daughter, he will get his karma,” he says.
Khululiwe sighs, “At the end of the day he’s going to be
our son-in-law.”
“Son? Are you well, Khululiwe?” He shakes his head and
sits on the bed. “She came here to take anything I say
and turn it against me. I thought we talked things
through but clearly this child hates me,” he says.
“She doesn’t hate you, you’re her father,” -Khululiwe.
“I was, when I was still providing for her. Now she has
another man providing for her and giving her a home,”
he shrugs and rests his head down on the pillow.
“Maybe it’s time we meet this Xolani. We are having a
grandchild and he’s the father, we cannot be having
these issues. I will want my grandchild to visit me and if
you are not on good terms with Nokuzola and him, they
will not let that happen.”
“What did I do to them?” He looks at his wife and takes a
deep sigh. “I committed a crime now by welcoming
Nalenhle back home, whereas she knows very well that
I’d do the same for her. I didn’t send them to work, they
can both stop working and my house will stand still. Now
I have to take instructions from Nokuzola? The child I
birthed.”
“You have to calm down, Thabethe,” she says.
“I am calm.” His eyes have turned bloodshot, Nokuzola
has always been a well behaved child, this new attitude
came with the Hadebe man.
.
.
.
NOKUZOLA

I’m watching TV with Onathi, in a month she will be

going back to college and furthering her studies. I’m
grateful for the little time we’ve spent together, I can now
say we are best friends. She’s opened up to me and
accepted that I’m in her dad’s life.
The door opens, the dad walks in and kisses my lips.
“How was your journey?” he asks, going to Onathi and
hugging her.
“It was fine except that now my dad is mad at me for
leaving without saying goodbye to him.”
He exhales heavily and lowers down to the chair. “I hate
it when you have issues with your family because
somehow I end up looking like I’m trying to be your
superhero and meddling in whatever is going on.”
“So you don’t want me here?”
Onathi gets up and leaves before it gets dramatic.
“That’s not what I’m saying, I’m just saying he’s going to
hate me.”
“So? Who cares?” Dad doesn’t like him anyway.
I don’t see why he should be so worried about being on
his good side. If that man doesn’t feel you, there’s
nothing you can do to appeal to him. Trust me, I know.
My phone rings, it’s my mom again.
I answer, “Ma.”
“Your dad and I want to meet Xolani.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Do we need to tell you the reason?”
“But Ma…”
“Zola don’t argue for no reason, you’re the middle
person, arrange it,” she ends the call.
This is what he didn’t want, I know this is not going to be
a friendly meeting.
“What is she saying?” he asks.
“They want to meet you,” I say.
I can see the fear in his eyes. "I feel set up," he says.
"By me?"
He sighs heavily and doesn't respond.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 87
NALENHLE

I know there’s a lot going on, in the family and the village
at large, but my mind is only on my guest who is coming
to see me. It would’ve been better if it was during the
weekend, they would’ve been distracted by funerals and
village ceremonies. Now, as old as I am, I have to make
up an excuse to leave the house. They’re under the
impression that I’m seeing someone from the village, I
don’t know how their minds work, honestly. I try not to
dress up suspiciously. I wear skinny jeans and socks, so
it looks like I’m really headed to the field. I’m
volunteering to go and weed until the sunset. Nzalo is on
his way, I need to get out.
“And then?” aunt says, turning her eyes to me.
I don’t look too gorgeous, do I?
“I’m going to weed your carrots,” I say.
She frowns, “What’s the catch?”
I laugh, “Can’t I be helpful? I know you work hard
everyday and the field is close to your heart, especially
the carrot bed.”
“Oh, MaThabethe!” she smiles. “Let me get you the right
hoe, others are heavy. But are you sure with those
jeans? You know how your uncle feels about pants.”
“But we can wear pants to protect our legs when doing
outdoor activities and they cover up.” There’s no way I’m
changing, I look snatched in these jeans.
She takes the hoe and comes back. “Go around the bed
and between the rows, don’t cut my carrots,” she says.
“I know how to do it,” I say.
“Okay…should I give you some calamine to protect your
skin?”
“No, the sun is about to set anyway.” Eyy, this woman. I
just spent hours trying to contour my nose and highlight
my cheekbones. I’m not usually pressured by the beauty
standards but I no longer stay close to him, I need to
make a statement everytime he sees me. So yeah, I’m a
make-up artist now.
I take my phone and hoe, then make my way out.
.
.
.

I get excited more than I should, we’ve been together for

half a year. I’m in the field, instead of starting the work
I’m staring at my phone, impatiently waiting for his call.
His name flashes on my screen as the phone vibrates, I
almost scream. As usual, he’s parking in a distance and
coming by foot.

All white, really this guy? You don’t wear white if you’re
in the sneaking around period. Things are different now,
we should be careful, my uncle is moody these days.
He smiles, “Sweety- lovey.”
I jump on him, he wraps his arms around me and swings
me around. Gosh, I missed him so much. He puts me
down and kisses my forehead and lips.
“You missed this hunk, huh?” he asks.
“Hunk? Do you know the meaning?” I wrap my arms
around him, just in case he wants to run away. “The
coast is not clear, we’ll have to go inside the field.”
“I hope there are no snakes,” he says.
“Why? You’re a man, you shouldn’t be scared of
snakes.” I’m disappointed, my first boyfriend was from a
neighboring village and he’d cross a crocodile river
without complaining.
“Snakes are not pets. Or you want me to die?”
I roll my eyes, “You’re dramatic.”
There are no snakes here, Khanyisa’s mom has her own
field by her house.
I should’ve brought something we can sit on, we can’t
stand the whole time. But important things first, I kiss
him. A real, breath taking, affectionate kiss.
“I miss you,” he says, caressing the side of my face.
“I miss you too. Why don’t you come and see me
everyday?”
“Because I have to work, baby. You know what can
make our lives easier but you don’t have to rush it.
You’re a lot happier everytime I see you, I want that for
you.”
“What about you? Are you happy?”
“I’m too busy to be sad,” he says.
“Not busy with Tinder, right?”
He laughs, “No Tinder.”
He pulls me closer, we kiss again.
“So when do you think you will spend quality time with
me?”
“Aren’t we spending it right now?” I ask.
“Like this?” he shakes his head. “I’m a man, you know
that, right?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“Do you really want me to be a second hand virgin? I
miss having you in bed, even if it’s just two rounds I
would be fine,” he says.
“Okay, we will make arrangements.” It feels weird saying
this, not so long ago all it took was him driving to my
place and taking me to his or mother’s house.
“I’d be happy. Maybe we can book in town for a couple
of hours, say you’re going to the clinic or something.”
Now he’s teaching me how to lie.
“I’d rather say I’m going to post something at the post
office because someone close to my uncle works at the
clinic,” I say.
“That’s fine, as long as we spend time together.” He
looks around and sees the hoe lying down.
“You’re here to work?”
“Supposedly,” I say.
“Do you even know how to do it?”
“I grew up here, I know how to do everything.” I look at
him and he doesn’t believe me, it’s time for evidence. I
pick up the hoe.
“I grew up here, I know how to do everything.” I look at
him and he doesn’t believe me, it’s time for evidence. I
pick up the hoe, something moves from the tuft below
us. I see a green slithering snake and jump, screaming.
He swiftly shoves me away, picking the hoe from the
ground and pinning it where the snake is.
Jesus Christ! I have been here before and no snake has
ever come out. Is this snake trying to embarrass me? I
assured him that this was a snake-free field.
“Motherfucker!” he’s still hitting with a hoe.
I think it’s dead now, it didn’t even put up a fight to start
with. He’s taking out his sexual frustrations on the poor
snake. But I’m not going to lie, I feel super proud of him.
This is exactly what he will do to my enemies in future. A
man must be able to kill a snake.
I step closer and take a look. It’s the size of a lizard, but
victory is victory. My man is brave, that’s it.
.
.
.
SKHUNDLA THABETHE

He walks in to his wife singing happily in the kitchen.

“Mmmm, someone is in a good mood,” he says, eyeing
her suspiciously.
She smiles, “Didn’t your niece offer to weed my carrot?
Ayy, I’m surprised Thabethe.”
“Maybe she wants something,” he says.
“Like what? I think she’s just being helpful, unlike some
people I know who only contribute by eating my
vegetables but never offer to help.” That’s his sub.
He catches with grace. “I do keep the goats away and
give you special massage when you come back home.”
She blushes like a little girl.
“We deserve some free time, away from the kids. Even if
it’s just three hours, we’ll book a lodge in town and
spend some secret time together.”
“Thabethe what are you up to?” She knows how crazy
he can be these days. She loves his crazy though, it
makes her feel young.
“I just want my wife all to myself for a little while,” he
says.
“Okay, I will hear from you,” she’s smiling.
His happiness is short-lived when he thinks about the
call he’s about to make.
“I was thinking of calling Nokuzola before we meet on
Saturday,” he says.
Khululiwe sighs heavily, “Are you sure Thabethe?
Everytime you two talk it doesn’t end well.”
“I won’t say anything, I will just ask how she’s doing. You
know how that man can be, not so long ago she was
crying because of him.”
“Okay, go ahead,” she says.

Thabethe makes his way out, scrolling down to Zola’s

number. He never thought he’d once be angst about
calling his own daughter.
“Hello,” she answers.
“Nokuzola, how are you?”
“I’m fine,” she says.
“And work?”
“It’s all good.”
He inhales sharply, “Your brother received the
excellency certificate for Accounting.”
“So how many does he have in total now?” she asks.
“He hasn’t surpassed you yet. Yours adorned the wall all
around the room.” He’s slightly exaggerating but she
was good in Accounting.
“And you’d slaughter a chicken everytime I pass. Why
did you stop doing that?”
“Because you finished school, Nokuzola Thabethe,” he
says.
“I should’ve upgraded to a sheep. When are we eating
Zuzu?”
Zuzu is his oldest sheep, she knows that if he had to
choose between his family and Zuzu, he’d choose Zuzu.
“I have to end this call,” he says.
She laughs, he drops the call shaking his head and
talking to himself. Nokuzola can buy herself lamb
instead of wanting to harm the innocent Zuzu.
As he goes back inside the house he hears Nale’s high-
pitched scream. Something must be scaring her. He
grabs his stick and rushes to the field.

He’s expecting to find her fighting a giant wild animal,

not standing against a boy’s chest with his lips entwined
with hers and hands all over her buttocks. Is this the
same Nalenhle who made his wife happy by offering to
weed the carrot bed?
They don’t even see him, they are busy exchanging
saliva.
He clears his throat, their eyes turn to him. Nale quickly
removes her arms from him.
“Is the weed you came here to remove in Nzalo’s
mouth?” Thabethe asks.
She wipes her lips and keeps quiet. If this boy had any
sense he would’ve disappeared by now and not
challenged him with a stare, with his arm still around her
waist.
“What is going on here?” Thabethe asks, his eyes
running around the carrot bed that still has a lot of
untouched crab grass.
“I saw a snake, Nzalo helped me and killed it,” she says.
“He must’ve used an aeroplane,” he says, moving
towards a dead snake. This is a green family snake.
Possibly one of his ancestors who came to visit his
wife’s garden.
“He killed my family snake?” he asks. “He came all the
way here to kill inyoka yedlozi lakwaThanethe.”
“But it wasn’t home and it was coming for me,” Nale
says.
“This is our land, it’s home if it’s here.” He looks at
Nzalo, displeased to the core.
This boy has tested him many times.
“Leave!” he says.
Nzalo looks at Nale, as if it’s her opinion that matters.
“Now! You too, Nalenhle, go home because you’re not
doing anything other than swallowing this boy.” He goes
forward and picks the dead snake. The great Thabethes!

Nzalo leaves, Nale is also heading home.

“Pssst!” he hisses as Nale joins the footpath home.
She looks back; he beckons her to come over with his
hand.
She quickly looks back at the field, Thabethe is not out
yet, she rushes to him.
A kiss? Definitely.
“How are you going to get your things from the car
now?” he asks.
“Don’t leave, park somewhere else, I will make a plan
and come out again.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiles.
They attempt to have another kiss.
“Yeeeeeyi!” Thabethe yells from afar.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

I understand that they are mad at me, my uncle more

than his wife whom I made an offer to. I’m used to him
being mad at me about boys. But the only difference is
that now I’m old, I don’t deserve to be scolded about
boys anymore.
“First, you brought him in my house, now to your aunt’s
carrot garden and telling him to kill our snake. Are you
well upstairs?” He points to his head.
“But malume, you keep making it sound like we practice
witchcraft by this “our snake” thing,” I say. If he
continues like this Nzalo will be scared.
“Is it?” He raises his eyebrow. “Now you’ve pissed me
off, tell him that I want my snake back.”
Gosh, he’s so childish!
His wife intervenes; “Thabethe calm down.”
“I am calm, I just want my snake back. I have never
gone to the Hadebes to kill their ancestors.”
Aren’t ancestors dead people already? God why didn’t
you make me white? I wouldn’t be going through all this.
“Yazi I think I lost my earphones on my way here,” I say,
searching my pockets.
My earphones are safe in my drawer.
“Oh, really?” aunt asks.
“Yes, I’m going to look for them quickly.”
They just look at me and don’t say anything. I think they
believe me. High five to myself, I’m smart.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 88
NOKUZOLA

The meeting is tomorrow and the fear has kicked in. He

blames me and thinks I set him up, which I can’t confirm
or deny, but they would’ve wanted to meet him sooner or
later anyway. At least they know that I’m dating and they
have made peace with the decisions I take in my
relationship. Nale went back to square one; sneaking
around and lying to see Nzalo. I wouldn’t have had
strength for all of that, I don’t think Xolani would’ve had it
either.

He's home early today, for the first time Onathi is leaving
the house alone and it’s freaking him out. She’s meeting
with two friends, going out to a dinner party and coming
back tomorrow morning. It’s one of her friends birthday
and she insisted on going. She hasn’t been in public or
any social gathering since the news that involved Winnie
and Musa hit surface. Xolani is worried but I think she
can handle it just fine.
“What do you think?” She comes out in the skimpiest
outfit I’ve ever seen.
My mouth drops open. If this is my reaction imagine her
dad’s.
“Too tight and too short,” I say.
“Okay, but does it look on me?”
“Obviously, you have a great body.”
“Bravo!” She goes to the mirror and adds something on
her cheekbones.
Her make-up is perfect, you’d swear she had a
professional MUA doing it. Hair on point, I don’t know
how many inches those are but I know they cost a
fortune.

Xolani walks in, his look disapproves as soon as he

sees her. He’s a hypocritical man, because how Onathi
dresses is exactly how he wanted me to dress, but now
because it’s his daughter it’s inappropriate.
“Are you dressed?” he asks.
“Yes,” she looks at him, ready to defend herself.
“It doesn’t look appropriate,” he says.
“I’m trying to look good, not appropriate, please don’t
start. You said you want me to be happy and enjoy
myself, how is that going to happen with all these terms
and conditions?”
He sighs, “Okay, I’m now quiet.”
“Thank you,” she leaves.
I look at him and laugh. Onathi can really put him in a
tight corner. I love the dad that he is though.
“I hope this one won’t be like the big sister,” he says,
brushing my tummy.
“With a sister like her and gogo like Nale, I doubt there
will be any difference.”
“Gogo?” He frowns, then laughs.
“Yeah, if Nale calls me her niece then my child will call
her gogo.” I don’t think she’s aware of this and I will
make it my mission to teach my baby from a young age
that Nale is gogo.
“I like this,” he laughs.
I doubt Nale will like it.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” I ask.
He heaves a long sigh. “No, I’m not.”
“I have a feeling they will give you a hard time,
especially about the age gap, but moving forward
everything will be great,” I say.
“Do you really think so?” he asks.
“All my mom ever wanted was for me to find a good man
who can take care of me and love me genuinely. You are
that man, right?”
He smiles, “Yeah, I think so. But what about your dad?”
“I don’t think he trusts anyone with me, I have been a
good girl my whole life,” I say.
“But you had boyfriends he didn’t have a problem with,”
he says.
“That only Nale knew about and I didn’t sleep with a boy
until I was 20.” I wasn’t a headache at home, I barely got
out of line. They already had their hands full with Nale, I
wasn’t adding to that.
I’d expect them to have more understanding and
acceptance when I finally introduce someone to them.
“I’m nervous but there’s nothing I can’t handle,
especially if it’s in exchange of you,” he says.
“Don’t worry, he’s not that bad.” I’m lying, my dad can be
really bad.
Onathi comes back, she’s added fishnet stockings under
the mini-skirt. It looks worse than before, this child wants
to kill my man.
.
.
.

Onathi hasn’t come back, obviously because it’s only

7am. But her dad is already making calls and getting
worked up. I think today’s anxiety is getting the better of
him and he’s taking it out on Onathi. He’s walking in and
out, looking very restless.
My phone rings, it’s Onathi.
“Can you tell Xolani that I’m coming back in the
afternoon? I’m going to Gateway with my friends,” she
says.
“Don’t worry, go and enjoy yourself,” I say.
There’s no need for her to rush home anyway, him and I
are attending the family meeting and also coming back
later.
He walks in, “If this child is not here before 12…”
“She’s coming back later, in the afternoon, they are
going to Gateway. What you should be doing right now
is sending her some moolas,” I say.
He glares at me, “Are you joking?”
“No. I just got a call from her and I told her that it’s okay.”
“And what made you say that without talking to me
first?”
“Am I not an elder in this house? Or I don’t have a right
over your child?” I don’t understand.
“That’s not what I mean,” he says, his voice a bit soft.
It’s exactly what he meant- I can’t tell his child anything
without consulting him.
“I’m just worried, what if she does something wrong?” he
says.
“Like what? You’ve been with her for months, you can
just trust her.” I have seen the growth in Onathi, she’s
going to look after herself very well.
He takes out his phone, I bet he’s doing the transaction.
Then he sighs heavily, “I’m sorry.”
“About?” I raise my eyebrow.
“You’re the woman of this house, I’m just anxious about
everything today,” he says.
“I understand. Come here,” I open my arms.
He takes off his shoes and comes to me in bed. I kiss
him then give him a tight hug.
“It’s going to be okay, I’m here with you every step of the
way.”
.
.
.

I wanted Nale to give me heads-up, we’ve been on good

terms after we had a conversation, our fights never last
more than three weeks anyway. But Nale being Nale,
she’d rather update me about her and Nzalo.
“I didn’t think he’d kill it,” she says.
Sigh. It’s still the small snake story that I’ve heard the
whole week. Nzalo is a giant, he has a gun and
kidnapping history. How is it a big deal that he killed a
tiny, probably very sick snake?
“Did dad say anything?” I ask.
“About Nzalo?” Oh, God.
“About today, Nale!”
“Ummm, not really. Why are you nervous? It’s not like he
will beat Mr X.” Nale has been through everything with
my dad regarding boyfriend stuff, that’s why she thinks
this is no big deal.
I get the juice I came here to fetch and take it to him in
the rondavel. I wanted to give him a chair but mom said
no, so he’s sitting on the grass-mat.
“Are you still comfortable?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says.
I pour him some juice, he seems very nervous.
I wasn’t aware that my mom was following me, I turn my
eyes and she looks gobsmacked at the door. She asks
me to step out for a minute.
“You serve him on your feet?”
Oh, she’s shocked by that.
“He doesn’t mind,” I say.
“In his personal space, not with other people watching.
How do you think people are going to respect him? Or
you want isiyoyoyo sendoda?”
My mom can be dramatic, Xolani doesn’t care about any
of that.
"Never do that again, especially ekuhambeni, give him
some respect. A man can allow you to hit his head in his
house, but it doesn’t mean you have to do it in public as
well."
"Okay Ma." I know arguing with her is useless.
We get back inside, she greets Xolani warmly, even
asking how difficult it is to drive on our old, gravel road.

Dad comes in, the atmosphere changes immediately. He

sits comfortably before greeting Xolani. My dad looks
older than Xolani, I don’t think he expected Xolani to
look like this. He probably expected a man with a big
belly and receding hairline, like himself.
“I’m Nokuzola’s dad and this is her mother,” he says.
“I’m happy to finally meet you,” -Xolani.
“Likewise,” dad says and then stares at him for a solid
minute.
Xolani keeps his head down. I know by that tapping
finger, he’s nervous. Only my dad can reduce a well-
respected businessman into a trembling boy.
“My daughter lives with you and we don’t even know
where you live. I’d expect someone of your age to know
the right channels to follow before that step is taken. If
something happens to her while she’s under your roof,
who must we hold accountable?”
Honestly, he had nothing to do with that decision, he
was in the hospital when I moved in.
“Dad, I’m the one who….”
“Keep quiet, Nokuzola,” he says.
I look at my mom, I know she approves of my
relationship and I have communicated with her about
why I moved in, she understood. But today she’s folding
her arms and watching her husband go off. Trust anyone
but my mom, hallelujah.
“I’m trying to speed up everything Thabethe. I’m not
disrespecting you, I know what’s due to you, I was a bit
distracted by personal issues but we are working on it
now. There’s someone on the way and moving in with
me seemed more reasonable because she needs
support.”
He looks at me, “Why didn’t you tell your mom and I that
you were planning on having a baby?”
I know the turn he wants to take with this question.
“It wasn’t planned,” I say.
“Ok, but you told him that you want to be a mother and
put on hold all your dreams to raise a baby?” he asks.
Deep sigh.
“No, I didn’t,” I say.
He looks at Xolani, “How did that happen?”
Xolani can’t answer.
“Do you know what’s funny? You’re doing exactly what I
thought you’d do. What is your reason for choosing my
daughter, someone who’s over a decade younger than
you?”
“I love her,” he says.
“So you couldn’t find anyone born five years after you
were born or three years older than you, who you could
love and lend your cars to, while making them pregnant?
Nobody was worth your love within your age bracket?”
“No,” he says.
“I find that strange, Hadebe. Nokuzola doesn’t even
come across as a girl old-looking than her actual age, I
fail to understand how you went for her in the first place.
If not to prey on her naivety, I don’t know what else
could’ve been your motive. It can’t be that all women in
their 40s and mid- 30s were out of reach, you look like a
man who can date any woman that he wants. I’m not
going to lie and say I’m happy.”
There’s a long moment of silence.
I don’t know why my dad thinks I come across as naive
and that’s why Xolani wants to be with me. Yes, he’s not
perfect, but which man is?
“You sent your people here, they said they want a
relationship between these two families- bacela
ubuhlobo obuhle. Right?”
“Yebo, Thabethe, I did,” Xolani says.
“According to what I know and expect is that both
families would form unity because of you and Nokuzola,
to become one family. But I’m shocked to see your son
dating my niece. Ubuhlobo obunjani ofuna ukubakha?
Your son clearly doesn’t see us as a family, because if
you had trained him well he’d see Nalenhle as his
cousin as well.”
I didn’t expect this sharp curve; he’s talking about
Nzalo’s relationship with Nalenhle. Honestly, we have
never frowned upon it because their relationship started
natural and around the same time that Xolani and I got
together.
“I cannot control what the children do, Thabethe,” he
says.
“But you can control my daughter, right? It’s your
responsibility to respect the relationship you want to
have with this family. You cannot apply to be our son-in-
law and then have your son searching for a wife in the
same family. What will happen? You will be the son-in-
law and he will be a grandson-in-law? When will it end?
Every male in your family will look at our family as a
ladies market.”
I bet he haven’t had this conversation with Nale. Now it’s
Xolani who will be responsible for Nalenhle and Nzalo’s
mistakes, wow.
“I will talk to my son,” he says.
That will be fruitless. He didn’t have a good relationship
with Nzalo for years, now he’s going to tell him who to
date and not date? Nope.
“Nokuzola, get him something to eat instead of sitting
there frowning your face.”
I don’t want to leave my man alone with him.
“Now, Nokuzola,” adds his wife.
Mom’s loyalty only lies with the man she sleeps with. I
wash my hands with Jik when it comes to her!

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 89

Khululiwe walks in with a basin of warm water for her

husband to wash his feet then takes a seat. Nokuzola
takes things to the heart, today’s meeting left her
worried about the impossible task Thabethe gave
Xolani.
“Thabethe, do you really think this can be solved?
Nalenhle has been with that boy for a very long time, in
fact he’s the longest boyfriend I know,” she asks.
“I’m sure Hadebe can handle his son, don’t you think?
How is he going to handle a family if he can’t get one
thing done?” Thabethe says, leaning down to wash his
feet.
“What if he fails? You know how young people are when
they are in love,” Khululiwe asks.
Thabethe shrugs, “Then he will come and tell me that
he’s failed to handle his son.”
“You can be difficult, Thabethe, ayy!” She’s putting her
emotions into this, obviously because it affected her
daughter’s mood.
“I’m not going to be fooled by the things he gives my
daughter. I lose respect for any old man that chooses to
sleep with someone younger than them. I need to see
my daughter genuinely happy, not driving a fancy car
and crying because of his infidelity.”
Khululiwe sighs, “I hear you but he did not force
Nokuzola into anything. She loves him, she’s said it
many times. Yes, he’s had his mistakes but that doesn’t
characterize him as your father, or anything close to him.
He’s not taking advantage of Nokuzola, they agreed to
be in a relationship.”
“I didn’t characterize him as my father. I just think he’s
old and he could’ve looked at her more like a parent
than someone he can share a bed with,” he says.
“But it has happened, now there’s nothing we can do
about it other than just supporting them. Nokuzola is
pregnant, we want to be in the baby’s life without any
animosity.”
“I don’t hate him, I’m just not impressed,” he says.
“What about Nale and her boyfriend?” Khululiwe asks.
He heaves a deep sigh, drying his feet with a towel. “I
really don’t know about those two. That boy killed my
snake, who should I call to report his behavior?”
“It’s unfortunate that both his parents are late, if they
were still alive they would’ve been the ones we call
about Nale’s boyfriend,” Khululiwe says.
“Ngiyakuzwa mama but I’m not going to change from
what I said, at least for now,” he says.
Khululiwe sighs, shaking her head. Yep, she married a
stubborn man. Nokuzola is still going to stress because
Xolani has to prove himself beyond financial efforts.

She takes out the water her husband used and says
goodbye to Nale who’s still watching TV, then comes
back to the bedroom. Thabethe has undressed and left
only his boxers.
He smiles as she closes the door, turning and walking
towards the bed.
“I have booked for us to be alone, away from the kids on
Saturday,” he says.
“I hope it didn’t cost a fortune. Which money did you
use?” She’s the biggest spender in the family, yet she
complains when someone else spends money.
“The money I got from fixing Nxamalala’s roof, you don’t
have to worry about it. I’m sorted, we will have a good
time. Woza ngikusize,” he says.
Khululiwe turns, she unhooks her dress and helps her
take it off. He’s in love with his wife, these days it feels
like new love. He pecks her lips as she gets in bed.
“Enough about kids’ boyfriends. How is my wife?” he
says.
Khululiwe smiles, “I’m okay.”
“Okay everywhere?” His hands run over her breasts.
She blushes, Thabethe likes making her feel like a child.
“Malume!” Nale bangs the door.
They ignore; it’s late, she should be going to her room.
“Malumekazi,” she calls again.
Khululiwe exhales heavily, “Let me see what she wants.”
She puts her dress back on and opens the door.
She’s holding her phone, “Where is malume? You guys
want me to break up with Nzalo!”
Zola must’ve just called her, she’s fuelled up.
“You really want us to talk about your boyfriend at this
time of the night?” Khululiwe asks with a heavy sigh.
“Yes, he’s my world,” she says.
Thabethe yells, “Not in my yard, he’s not the world here.
Go to bed!”
“No malume, what does my relationship have to do with
Mr X? I met Nzalo first, before Mr X even knew that Zola
existed, I was crying at his father’s funeral and…” Oops!
“Whose funeral? You attended a boy’s father’s funeral?”
Khululiwe is in shock.
“No…I mean yes, but he wasn’t my boyfriend at the
time, I was crying because I was asked to,” she says.
“Asked to cry? By who?” Khululiwe is confused.
“Umh, you know what guys, never mind. I’m not mad,
you’re just a test to our relationship and we are going to
come out of it victorious,” she turns and walks away.
The bedroom door widely opens, Thabethe has put on
his pants. “Come here,” he says.
He wants to know what kind of deliration went down.
Who asked his niece to cry at the Hadebe funeral? No
wonder she’s been emotionally overburdened, she goes
around collecting bad spirits.
Nale stands with her arms hugging her slim body. If she
could, she’d take it back and not say anything at all. One
thing for sure, she cannot mention Mr X because he’s
already hanging on a thin thread when it comes to his
reputation in this family. And Zola would hate her for
sure.
“Why were you at the Hadebe funeral and what
happened?” Thabethe asks.
“A colleague of mine was very close to him and she
asked me to go with her. I felt sorry for the family, so she
asked me to cry.” This makes no sense, even if she was
listening to herself.
“You are lying. Give me Nzalo’s number,” Thabethe
demands.
“Hhayi malume! His father’s death still traumatizes him.
If you bring it up he might commit suicide, I don’t want to
be widow,” she says.
Thabethe clicks his tongue, “A widow? What did he pay
for you?”
“Maybe the pizza and boxes of biscuits we always see in
the dumping hole outside,” says Khululiwe.
She’s shocked.
They know???
Khululiwe laughs, “Let’s go back to bed Thabethe.”
.
.
.
NOKUZOLA

He walks in looking hopeless, I can already tell how it

went with Nzalo. I told Nale and she went crazy, I’m sure
Nzalo was already informed.
“Hey,” I get up and help him take off his jacket.
“Makoti,” he kisses my cheek and sinks down with a
heavy sigh.
I put his jacket over the chair and sit down too.
“Did you talk to Nzalo?” I ask.
“No, he wasn’t even interested, Nale talked to him first,"
he says.
“Then it is what it is,” I say.
He looks at me, “What do you mean?”
“He’s an adult, who are you to tell him what to do? Our
relationship has nothing to do with his,” I say.
“So I must say that to your father?” he asks.
“Tell him you tried and Nzalo refused. He’s also an elder,
if it’s that wrong, let him talk to Nale about it, let’s see his
power too,” I say.
“Your father has nothing to prove to me, he gave me this
responsibility on purpose. This is what he wanted; he
wanted me to fail at something and look like I’m less of a
man.” This evidently puts him under a lot of pressure
and stress.
“Do you want me to talk to him?” I ask.
He shuts his eyes, his jaw twitches.
Why is he getting angry?
“Are you serious?” he asks.
“Yeah, I can even talk to my mom and ask her to…”
“Don’t you want to go out and get some ice-cream? I
need to think and you’re not helping.” He throws his
wallet to me, gets up and goes away.
How am I annoying him by trying to help?
I’m going to go out for ice-cream and call my mom.
.
.
.
I only went out for ice-cream but ended up getting
burger and chips too. There are some wrist beads I
bought, for no reason at all, I just liked them on the
display glass. I don’t like anything on my wrist, I will
keep them for my baby. I called my mom and told her
what happened, hoping she will talk to her husband, but
she’s standing with him. She said Xolani must come
back to them with feedback and not send me.
Onathi is alone in the kitchen, making a salad.
“Where is your dad?” I ask.
“Upstairs, he’s been in his study ever since. Are you
guys fighting again?”
“No, he’s just stressed by work,” I say and leave in a
hurry, before she asks more questions.
I’m gaining weight, taking the stairs always leave me
breathless. I head to the study, the door is slightly open,
I push it and let myself in.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m okay,” he moves off the chair for me to sit. “I will go
and see your father again,” he says.
“Must I come with you?” I know how that man can be.
“No,” he says.
I’m confused, he looks annoyed by everything I say to
support him. I’m only trying to help and I’m not going to
stand his attitude towards me.
“Tell me when it’s time for dinner, I’m going to take a
nap,” I say.
“Okay,” he says.
Yep, just like that.
.
.
NALENHLE

I came back home for peace and so far I thought I found

it. Only to find out that I’ve been living with snakes.
They’ve been smiling to my face while plotting my
downfall. Yep, my relationship ending is a downfall for
me. Nzalo is the only good thing I have going on. So the
song that’s been ringing in my ears since I woke up is:
Ngihleka Nawe Kanti Uyisitha Kimi. Anyone who’s ever
betrayed by someone close to them knows the song.
“Are you singing that to me?”
I didn’t even see him walking in.
“No,” I say.
“Okay,” he takes the remote and sits down.
I carry on singing.
“I want to watch TV and hear it,” he wants me to stop
singing. Slowly, home feels like prison. Now I can’t even
sing my song in peace?
“Do you really want us to break up?” I still can’t believe
this.
“Yes,” he says with a straight face.
“Why?” I’m confused.
He sighs, like I’m a bore, and shifts his eyes to the TV.
“If I say break up with malumekazi, would you do it?” I
ask.
“We are already married,” he says.
“You’re not answering the question. Sometimes you
forget that I’m your sister.” Sometimes Skhundla
overestimates his importance.
“You will never play that card with me, I raised you. I
was sleeping on the floor, helping your aunt change your
nappy at night and feeding you porridge. Stay out of
this, it has nothing to do with you. If that boy loves you,
he will fight to have you.”
“You want him to fight?” I ask.
“Nalenhle, I don’t want that boy in my house. I don’t
mean it literally.” He knows Nzalo too well. If I had
relayed the message to him, he would’ve been
physically here in three hours.
“All I’m saying is, let the Hadebes handle this,” he says.
I feel like he wants to play with their emotions. I
understand on Mr X’s side, he needs to sweat a bit and
pay for his sins. But what did my innocent Nzalo do?
The snake he killed could have been already sick.
“On Saturday your aunt and I are going to visit the
Magubanes,” he changes the topic.
“Who are those?” I have never heard of them.
“Our old friends, we are not sleeping over though. We
will leave in the morning and come back in the
afternoon,” he says.
“Can we also come? I want to meet the Magubanes,” I
ask.
“No, you can’t,” he refuses.
“Why? They hate me?”
He laughs, “You’re crazy. Why would they hate you? It’s
just an invite for me and your aunt.”
Well, if I’m not going then I need to call Nzalo, this is our
chance to go and spend time together as well. At least I
won’t have to worry about them calling and asking
where I am, the Magubanes will keep them busy.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 90

He met Khululiwe when he was 17 and it was love at

first sight. Now he’s three years away from 50 and
nothing has ever changed. They have been through
everything together, she’s never left his side. Well, she’s
threatened to, but Skhundla is all she’s ever known.
She’s wearing a dress that she’s been saving for a
wedding invitation, looking beautiful for her husband.
He’s put a lot of efforts into this day.
He bought 2l of Coke and KFC on the way, then added
some sweets for his hard-working wife. This is the day
for her to relax and enjoy soft life. Not many people are
here, even those who are here are not from the village,
it’s guests from remote areas, they are free to do
whatever they want without worrying about their privacy.
There’s something that Khululiwe bought two days ago
when she was preparing for this day, it’s in her bag. She
takes it and heads to the bathroom while her husband
prepares for their lunch.

She takes off her clothes and tries it on. It’s very short
and silky, she can only wear something like this for her
husband’s eyes. She’s almost 46, she’s carried two kids
and gained weight as she matured in her womanhood,
of course her body looks different from what it used to
be. But her husband loves her with all her stripes and
loose handles.
She’s confident walking back to him, and as she wanted,
his jaws drop.
“You have secrets, Khululiwe,” he says, opening his
arms, looking stunned.
He hugs her and kisses her cheek, then admires her
thick, exposed thighs.
“I thought we’d eat first but Thabethe has woken up
now,” he says.
Khululiwe smiles, “You better calm him down because I
want to eat first.”
She only had six slices of bread and two chicken thighs
for breakfast. Thabethe ignores his throbbing shaft and
pours Coke for her. They are having KFC and chips,
with some bread rolls.
“I hope Nalenhle will cook early,” she says.
“It’s none of our business what they choose to do for
their stomachs.” Thabethe cannot care less, this is their
time and they shouldn’t worry about what children are
doing back home.
“I spoke to Nokuzola, she was feeling a bit sick,”
Khululiwe says. It’s in her as a mother to worry about
her children, no matter where she is.
“Where was Hadebe?” Thabethe asks.
“She said he went to work. I don’t think it’s anything
serious, just pregnancy. I was like that too with
Thamsanqa, I was always feeling sick,” she says.
"I will call her later and find out how she's doing," he
says with a low sigh. “I can’t believe she’s pregnant and
none of us are even with her.”
It’s still going to take him time to embrace this new stage
Nokuzola has embarked on.
“Well, she’s almost 30 and she's not alone there,
Hadebe is with her,” Khululiwe says.
"Didn’t you just tell me that he went to work and left her
sick? That man is going to take my child, make her a
mother and change her surname. It would’ve been
better if it was someone from around, where we could
see our daughter anytime we want and see when she’s
not happy. But it’s someone from a different place.”
“You did that to me and here we are today, happy,”
Khululiwe says.
“I had a mother, you were coming to a family with
direction and you had someone who guided you and
protected you. It’s different with Nokuzola, she’s going to
an empty family, there’s no mother figure or any woman
before her. One wife is in jail, the other one was
murdered, I’m sure even those who came before them
had horrible fates. Kunomkhokha nje ongemuhle.”
“But those weren’t his wives, he’s never had a wife,”
Khululiwe says, still defending her son-in-law.
“At his age, only God knows why! I have to strengthen
my daughter before she fully goes into that family, I don’t
trust anything,” Thabethe says.
Nokuzola might not agree with that but knowing her
husband, he will do it. They enjoy their KFC, for the first
time without the kids asking for their own pieces.
Thabethe takes out a slab of milk chocolate and
unwraps it for her.
“Inyongo ke!” Khululiwe says, breaking two bars and
giving it back to him.
He breaks his own and puts it away. The day is still
young, they pack up the food and move it out of the way.
“You didn’t buy any water?” she asks. They can’t drink
Coke all day.
“I totally forgot. Let me see if they don’t sell it in that little
store.” He gets up and fixes his clothes.
They share a quick kiss before he heads to the door.
“Stay ready for me,” he says, smiling back at her, then
walks out.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

We had lunch first, I don’t know when was the last time I
ate out. It’s a pity there’s no good restaurant in my town,
I had to settle for pizza and some dunked wings. Now
we are arriving at the lodge with our drinks. He bought
me red wine, chocolates and some snacks. It has been
a dry season, I need quality time with my boyfriend and
multiple orgasms. We bought a packet of condoms, so
we don’t run out. We only have a couple of hours
together, I want to be home before the elders to avoid
questions. According to them, I’m home and doing
house chores. I left half of them done, I will only wrap up
a few things and cook later.
He gets the key and we make our way to our room. It’s
room-3, I hope nobody booked next door to us because
I don’t want them to get one star rating because of me. I
know myself, sometimes I act like a virgin.
Oh no, wait!
I pull Nzalo, he stops and looks at me confused.
I have never needed glasses in my life, my vision has
always been perfect.
“That’s my uncle,” I step back and hide behind him.
That’s the maroon shirt my uncle left home wearing. I
doubt it still sells anywhere in the world. It’s very old but
he takes care of it too well, it still looks new. He only
wears it on special occasions, and I thought it was for
the Magubanes today. What is he doing here? I’m
confused.
“Are you sure baby?” Nzalo thinks I’m playing.
“It’s him. Oh, my goodness!” He just entered the room
next to ours. Luckily he didn’t look back, but I’m not sure
what our next step should be.
“Let’s go quickly, maybe he’s seeing a guest inside that
room and leaving,” Nzalo says.
I follow him and we quickly get in our room. But now all
the excitement is gone, I’m scared and asking myself a
lot of questions.

He can see that I’m tense, his hug relaxes me a bit. “The
door is locked, he won’t know that you are here,” he
says.
We have both looked forward to this day and made
plans for it. I haven’t spent any quality, private time with
him, now is the time to make up for it. We kiss, he’s
already in a rush to feel my body, his hands are all over
me.
“I miss you everyday,” he whispers, unbuttoning my
shirt. He grabs my boobs and kisses me again. Then we
hear a bang from the next room and stop. Someone is
having sex and I can hear the male giving instructions to
the woman. The male is my uncle, I’d know my uncle’s
voice even in my deep sleep.
“Babe concentrate on me, please,” Nzalo captures
another kiss.
But they just got started, now the male is groaning and
talking dirty to his sex partner. All the excitement I had
for Nzalo’s dick subsides, I want to leave.
“Maybe we can get another room,” he says.
“That’s my uncle, Nzalo.” I don’t know what difference
he thinks another room will make.
I have heard my uncle saying unimaginable things:
“open wide…let me eat my cake.” I cannot recover from
this.
They are getting loud with each second, Nzalo is still
touching me and I have gotten so dry that even his
hands feel rough like they have razors.
“Nalenhle look at me,” he says.
I look at him, he pecks my lips.
“I will ask them for a different room,” he says.
I shrug, he grabs his jacket and ties it around his waist
and leaves.
I’m not in the mood anymore, my uncle is still going on
in the next room. I only hear the woman squealing and
her ass being slapped.
“Hold him, play with Thabethe, my love,” he says.
I knew it was him, I didn’t need any confirmation,
nevertheless he’s just given me one. His groans disgust
me, I left my earphones at home, playing music off my
phone isn’t blocking anything.

Nzalo comes back, from the look on his face it wasn’t

fruitful.
“All other rooms are full,” he says.
“Let’s just leave, I can’t stand this.”
He sits with a heavy sigh, “Do you see how I am?”
He removes the jacket to show me his erection. I don’t
understand how hearing my uncle having sex, possibly
cheating on my aunt, can turn him on. It’s not just
random people having sex, my uncle is there. Where is
the shame?
“We can leave but at least give me a blowjob and one
round,” he says.
“I cannot perform any sexual activity right now,” I say.
“That’s not fair, we had an agreement coming here.” He
doesn’t get it.
I don’t know how he’s not disgusted and turned off,
hearing what we are hearing.
“Your uncle is an adult, if that’s really him then it’s okay,
at least he’s enjoying,” he says.
I wasn’t aware of how stupid he can be. How is my uncle
enjoying when….?
We hear him again: “Chama, baby. Chama!”
Nzalo holds me tighter, I feel like he’s turned on even
more. My uncle never calls his wife “baby”, it’s either he
calls her mama, nkosikazi or mkami. Now I’m sure that’s
not her. My aunt wouldn’t leave her house to come and
have sex in a lodge anyway.
“I want to go home,” I say.
“Come on, Nale. How am I even going to walk out? Look
how hard I am.”
It disgusts me that he’s hard, he lacks respect.
“Why did we come here then? To listen to other people
having sex, something I haven’t had in weeks, get
turned on and leave,” he says, as if he’s blaming me for
what they are doing next to us.
“No Nzalo,” I only need to say this once and hope he will
remove his hand from my thighs. No means no, right?
“I’m horny baby, even only a blowjob and then we will
leave,” he says.
“No, I want to go home,” I say, for the second time.
He inhales sharply and removes his hand. He’s hard, I
can see, but I want to go home.
His eyes have turned red, I can see he’s boiling with
anger and sexually frustrated. I don’t know if I can calm
him down with my hand in the car at least.

We get in the car and I notice that he’s on silent mode.

“I’m traumatized Nzalo,” I say.
“It’s always about how you feel. You made me come all
the way here, for what? For what Nalenhle?” He’s going
off.
After the trauma I just went through, getting into an
argument is not something I want to do. I will keep quiet
and think about how I’m going to look at my uncle from
now onwards. I don’t know if I can but confronting him is
also off the list. Because, how would I ask an elder
about his sexual affairs? And what if their marriage ends
because of this and I’m the reason behind it?
“I have been understanding and trying to show you how
much I love you and want this relationship to work, even
with a distance between us. But you’re not pulling in the
same weight. You can’t stay close to me, you want to be
home because you’re going through dark times. Fine, I
understand. Now I’m trying to spend time with you,
sneaking around like a teenager. You are 26 Nalenhle,
26! Your family knows that you have a boyfriend, but you
can’t even visit me for two days.”
I let him rant, I have no energy to talk back. It turns out
he’s not fully okay with me being home. If I remember
well, I gave Nzalo an option not to be with me. So far, I
like my life home, I don’t miss anything about my
workplace or Tongaat.
I was going to give him a handjob but not anymore. He
drives me home, the mood is sour and he hasn’t
stopped talking about how selfish I have been.
.
.
.
I completed all my chores and went to the field, for the
first time I have been weeding. I needed to get my mind
off what I witnessed at the lodge. It’s getting dark but I
still have a ton of energy to go on.
“Sis’ Nale,” that’s Thami.
I look up, he’s here to fetch me.
“Did you see the time? Let’s go home,” he says.
I’d spend the whole night here if I could. I take my hoe
and go back home.
I hear him talking and everything he was saying to his
sidechick comes back. I want to throw up. Such an old
man sleeping around!
I don’t look at his direction, I walk straight with my arms
folded.
“Did you want to sleep in the field?” aunty says,
chuckling.
“No,” I say and walk straight to my room.
Shucks, I need to warm water for a bath. I have to be in
his presence because they are all in the kitchen.
Just when I’m about to do so, aunty walks in with a
bucket of hot water. Such a good wife!
“I know you’re tired,” she says.
I feel guilty for hiding this from her but it’s not my place.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I nod.
“Nalenhle, talk to me. Is it Nzalo?”
That one hasn’t checked up on me, I’m sure he’s still
mad and sexually frustrated.
“No,” I say.
“You two are okay, are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say.
“Okay, do you want to eat with us or you want to eat
here?”
“I’m not hungry, I ate earlier,” I say.
“Mmmm, okay.” She’s eyeing me suspiciously.
Unfortunately I cannot tell her what’s wrong.
“I love you,” this is all I can say.
She frowns, “Okay, I love you too, you know that.”
This woman raised me, I will never turn my back on her
and I will never accept another aunt. I will be the evil
niece and monster sister-in-law to the bitch that was
moaning in the lodge.

I’m ready for bed, I wish I can talk to Zola. I always vent
to her but this one will be a sensitive subject. I don’t
know what to do, Nzalo hasn’t reached out to me either.
Maybe I should call and apologize about today, then ask
my uncle for permission to visit him during the weekend.
Not, not the cheater, I will ask my aunt instead.
Someone knocks, I let him in thinking it’s Thami. But it’s
Skhundla, the cheater.
“Hey, I brought your food,” he says.
Didn’t I say I’m not hungry?
He walks in and puts it on my bedside cabinet.
“Your aunt says you are upset,” he says.
I don’t respond, I really don’t talk to unfaithful husbands,
I get in bed and pull the blanket over my head.
“Are you upset with me or something?”
Can’t he leave me alone? I keep quiet until he gives up.
“If you need something you know where to find me. I
had a good day and I’m not going to let your tantrums
ruin it,” he walks out.
I get up and shut the door, locking it so that no other
cheater walks in again.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 91
NALENHLE

I wait until I hear him leaving, taking out his sheep, then
come out of my room to have breakfast. I didn’t call
Nzalo, I’m hoping today I can be permitted to visit him. I
can’t stand being in my uncle’s presence for another
day.
“Finally, I was starting to think maybe you’re sick,” aunty
says.
“No, I’m fine,” I say.
We are having tea and yesterday leftovers, she’s
warmed it up.
“We have been worried about you,” she says.
“I’m fine, malumekazi, really. I only want to know if it’s
okay for me to visit Nzalo this afternoon and come back
tomorrow?”
“Hhayi-bo Nalenhle, you know the rules,” she says.
This is exactly the reason why I used to sneak out
growing up.
“But I’m 26, those rules no longer apply to me,” I say.
“Waze washisa bo mdoko! You can be 30 or 40, here
you will remain a child until you go and build your own
house.” She’s not having it.
“Okay then, I’m visiting Zola and Mr X,” I say.
She gives me a side-eye. What else should I say? I was
straightforward and she refused, so now I’m lying.
“If you had respected yourself and followed the right
path, he would’ve been coming here to see you, not you
going to him. It doesn’t work like that, yisoka eliza
ekhweni. You have to ask your uncle,” she says.
“Nooo!” I’d rather go missing, I’m not asking my uncle.
“What? Are you beefing with him?” she asks.
“I’m not, I just don’t want to talk to him. So can I go or
not?”
“Fine, you can go,” she finally agrees.
I’m going to surprise Nzalo while he’s mad at me. I’m
going to prove to him that I actually put people first, I just
have my shortcomings and imperfections as a human
being.
.
.
.
I’m going to leave my laundry on the drying line, then
iron when I come back. I’m busy washing behind the
house where our water drums are, then I feel someone
standing behind me.
“Can I bring my shirt too?” he asks.
It’s the maroon shirt he went to charm his sidechick with.
“No,” I say.
“I’m still an elder to you, don’t disrespect me.” Here
comes the “elder” card, who said we can’t say no to
elders?
“What’s your problem?” he asks, for the first time he
sounds less concerned and more impatient with my sour
mood.
I wasn’t going to say anything but now that he’s followed
me to ask, I will talk.
“I saw you at the lodge yesterday, kwaManzini,” I say.
He doesn’t look shaken, he just frowns. “And what were
you doing there?”
“That’s not important, you should be worried about when
I will tell aunty that you went there.” I’m sure she was
with the Magubanes while he was out with another
woman.
“Tell her what?” he asks, acting confused.
“That you went to the lodge and I heard you were with a
woman,” I say.
“Oh! Is that why you’ve been upset?”
A very stupid question. Of course I have been upset
because of that. I will never be okay after hearing him
having sex in the next room.
“She’s a good woman,” I say.
He laughs, “I know.”
What’s funny?
“I’m going to bring my shirt,” he says and walks away
laughing.
No remorse, nothing. I’m not crazy, am I? I know very
well what I heard and I know it was him.
He brings the shirt and doesn’t address the lodge issue
again.
.
.
.
They are okay, laughing together and watching TV. I’m
ready to go, surprisingly my uncle hasn’t said anything. I
have to get going, I want to get there before 5pm, shortly
after he comes back from work. They look up, they have
this thing of staring at people at the same time, like
there’s a crime they’re suspecting.
“I’m on my way,” I say.
“Where are you going?”
He does this everytime, I know his wife told him.
“I’m visiting Nzalo,” I say.
“Oh, that’s nice. When are you coming back? Or I
shouldn’t ask, you will come back when you come back,
just like you leave when you want?”
Sigh!
“I asked and aunty said I can go. I’m coming back
tomorrow, it’s his birthday,” I say.
“Your birthday lie is getting old,” he says and puts his
arm around his wife. “Before you go, tell your aunt why
you have been mad at me?”
He looks amused, now I think I got the whole situation
wrong.
I look at my aunt who looks a bit embarrassed. “You
guys went to visit the Magubanes, right?”
“Yes,” she says.
“I saw malume at the lodge.”
“What?” She wants to sound surprised but she cannot
fool me. “Okay, what were you doing there because you
didn’t say anything about it to me?”
“It was a last minute thing,” I say.
“So what makes you mad about seeing your uncle
there?”
“Because I was in the room next to the one he entered.”
I cannot say the exact reason but this should give him a
clue about what I heard.
“I won’t apologize for that, I was with my wife and you
weren’t supposed to be there,” he says.
I’m shocked. One, they lied about going to the
Magubanes; two, he was calling her baby and saying all
those things.
I look at her, “For real?”
“I was with him,” she confirms.
This makes it even worse.
“I heard you guys,” I blurt it out.
I can see she looks a bit ashamed. But he doesn’t care,
he has a smug look on his face like I deserve the trauma
they put me through.
“I fought with Nzalo because of you,” I say.
“Unomdikheyi wena! Who is Nzalo to me?” He doesn’t
like it when I talk to him about boyfriend stuff, he wants
to be the traditional uncle that takes no nonsense. But
he should get used to it by now because I will never
stop.
“I will give you feedback when I come back,” I say.
He frowns, “Feedback for what?”
“How we sorted things out, angithi I’m going there to fix
things.”
He clicks his tongue and holds his wife’s hand. I’m kinda
relieved that he wasn’t cheating on her, however I do
wish their sex life was different. He’s an old person, he
shouldn’t be saying dirty things and spanking his wife. I
thought old people only do missionary, without making
noises and only at night when everyone is asleep.
.
.
.

I didn’t expect Nzalo to be excited when I arrive but I

didn’t think he’d be cold either. I could have been more
sensitive towards his frustration and expressed myself
more, but I’m here now because I have realized my
mistake. I travelled all the way here, with my own
money, to see him.
Nzalo laughs a lot, especially when I’m around. Him
being this quiet and not even asking how things are at
home, shows that he’s holding a sex grudge.
“Do you want coffee?” I ask.
He scoffs, “No, I don’t want coffee.”
“You’re just not excited to see me?”
“I am, I’m just sad,” he says.
“Sad or excited? It can only be one.”
He heaves a low sigh, “I’m sad.”
“Because of me?” I don’t think it should be that deep.
“Everything. I miss my old life,” he says.
Okay, I think this is about Msindisi, not me.
“Have you talked to Msindisi recently?” I ask.
“Not really, I have been busy. But I know he’s settled in
and looking for a job that side. Babomncane is helping
him with that,” he says.
I can’t believe Msindisi has decided not to come back
altogether. What happened that was so bad? His crush
on me remained between us and I know he was just
confused, he didn’t mean all that. MaMkhwanazi is
waiting for her sentence with her brother, they pleaded
guilty to everything. This is the breakthrough they all
waited for.
“Maybe you should go and visit him,” I say. I can see
that he misses Msindisi.
“No, we will go and visit Lwethu in Mpumalanga,” he
says.
“We?” Did I hear that correctly?
“Yeah, I promised to always go with you whenever I’m
leaving the province or country. Unless if you prefer not
to go,” he says.
“Nooo! I have never left KZN before.” I’m not going to
miss it for the world.
“Then we’ll make it a vacation, Mpumalanga has
amazing places,” he says.
Just like that, I’m traveling the world! I can’t wait for this,
I hug him until he releases all the tension and relaxes.
We kiss, I hate seeing him this sad.
“I’m sorry about yesterday, I love you,” I say.
“I understand and I will never do anything with you if
you’re not comfortable. It’s just that I miss you, I got
frustrated and…”
I shut him with a kiss, he doesn’t have to explain
anything. I unbutton his shirt, sitting on his lap with my
legs spread. Within two minute both our clothes are
scattered on the floor, his head between my arms as I
kiss him passionately.
I need him inside me, I simply get turned on by him
breathing heavily and squeezing my ass. But we have to
take it to the bedroom because there are no condoms
here. He throws me on the bed and gets a condom.
Then lies between my legs and pulls one up.
He kisses me again, chasing my bottom lip hungrily. He
touches my clit, it slips between his fingers. I’m wet!
He curses and pushes his tip in. I shut my eyes when
he’s half way in and push my chest out, fuck.
“Nalenhle, you love me,” he says.
He’s not asking but telling me. How abnormal does that
sound?
I open my eyes and smile, “Yes, I do.”
“The way you feel me is insane. I get you wet so easily, I
have never had this sexual chemistry with anyone,” he
breathes harshly against my neck and then brushes his
lips on my earlobe. “I have missed you so much.”
I have missed him too but I can’t get words out. He’s
hitting my weak spots, I grab his waist, he moves faster.
I want it like that!
“Don’t stop, please,” my voice trembles.
I lift up the other leg, I want him in my depths.
“Baby don’t cook two-minute noodles,” he says.
“Mmmm!” I can feel every knot bursting, from my toes up
to every vein in my body.
He calls my name, I have snuggled my legs around him,
my coochie is breathing on him. Nothing feels good and
more relieving than an orgasm. He tries moving but I’m
a dam.
He gets a towel and wipes me, then gets in again.
“I love you,” he says.
I love him too, let me stop being selfish and help him
gets his big end.
“Sexy, little thing!” He likes how I move with his thrusts.
“Mr Good Dick,” I say.
He smiles, “Just marry me.”
“Mmmm!” I pull his face and kiss him.
I have never been a fan of french kisses but with him
everything goes. We chase tongues and make love
passionately until he reaches his own end.
It was good, I rest my head on his chest and listen to his
heart beating.
“I’m serious, Nalenhle,” he says.
“About what?” I ask.
“Let’s get married,” he says.
“Babe!” I have never struck marriage off my dreams but I
have always known that I’d have to meet the right guy
and be mature before it happens. I’m quite shocked, I
thought I’d see marriage coming, it wouldn’t just drop as
a bomb.
.
.
.
I was supposed to come back in the morning but I’m
here before dinner instead, it’s already dark outside.
Nzalo dropped me off, we spent the whole day together
talking about our future.
“Hello everyone,” I’m in a good mood.
They all greet me back except him.
I grab a seat, I have news to share with them. Big news.
“Should I dish up for you?” aunty asks.
“No thanks, I’m full,” I say.
“Oh, you were well fed where you were.”
There’s no way I was going to leave Nzalo’s food for
samp and goat meat.
“I want to tell you guys something,” I say.
“Okay, we are listening,” she says.
Thami is staring at me suspiciously. I call Zola and put
her on loudspeaker, everyone must hear these news.
“Nzalo wants us to get married,” I say.
Silence!
Even Zola goes silent on the phone.
“I’m serious, this is not a prank,” I say.
Unexpectedly, my uncle breaks into laughter. He laughs
and almost chokes on the samp he’s eating. What’s so
funny?
I look at his wife. Why is no one saying anything?
“Did you agree?” Zola finally asks.
“No, we are still discussing it,” I say.
He’s still laughing, he sips water and continues.
“So he thinks you two are ready for marriage now?” he
asks.
“Yeah,” I’m confused.
What makes him think I won’t be a good wife and he
won’t be a good husband? He can marry me, he has all
the means. And I can cook, clean and make great sex.
“I need to talk to his elders,” he says.
I hear Zola’s loud grunt; Mr X is the elder being
requested, unfortunately.
“Yoh, hhayi Nalenhle!” aunty exclaims.
I don’t know how she feels about this whole thing, she
looks worried more than anything.
I can't believe people are worried instead of celebrating.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 92
NALENHLE

Everyone goes to bed, leaving me watching TV. Nzalo is

going to call, we have a lot to talk about. We have
discussed the marriage issue in lengths and he’s not
changing his mind. He says it’s what he wants. I do think
he’s driven by loneliness. He’s always had a family and
people around him, being alone made him realize that
he has to make his own family to be happy. I’m not sure
about it yet, marriage is a forever thing and sometimes
my emotions get the better of me and I pack and leave. I
cannot do that if I’m married, I will have to find a way to
deal with things differently.
“Nalenhle,” aunty comes back.
I kinda knew she’d want to sit down with me. I know she
has a lot to say and advise me about.
“I have been thinking about this,” she says, sitting down
next to me. “I know a pastor and he’s helped a lot of
couples. I will talk to him and ask if he can sit down with
you two.”
“Pastors counsel couples who are about to get married,”
I say.
Nobody has ever received counselling for wanting to get
married.
“I know but he can help you as well. Just so you
understand what marriage is before you think about
getting yourselves into it at such a premature stage,”
she says.
“We have been together for over half a year now. All I
need to know is whether I love him enough to tie my life
to him or not.” The foundation of marriage is love and I
think we have that. Why doesn’t anyone have faith in
us?
“I feel like you still have a lot of personal growth to do
before you get yourself in marriage. I know your uncle
makes it hard for you girls to date and see your partners
as often as you’d like and freely. But that’s because he’s
protective and he doesn’t want you to turn out like other
girls in the village. That doesn’t mean jump into
marriage,” she says.
“I don’t think Nzalo is tired of sneaking around, he just
wants to have a family. He lives alone, that’s why he’s
looking for a wife,” I say.
“No, if that’s the case then he’s looking for a roommate. I
still insist, I want you two to talk to a pastor before you
conclude anything,” she says.
“Alright.” I will do it to get her off my back.
No pastor is going to change his mind, he knows what
he wants. Nzalo is 35 years old, nobody should be
asking questions about him wanting to get married, he’s
at the right age. I’m not young either, I know people who
got married at 18 and 19.
.
.
.
Nzalo calls, I switch off the TV and go to bed. I have to
tell him about my uncle’s request and aunt’s pastor
proposal. I lie in bed comfortably.
“Are you good now?” he asks.
“Yeah, I am. So my uncle wants to talk with your elders.”
“Why?” he asks.
“I don’t know, he laughed when I told him that you want
us to get married. In fact nobody seems to be happy
about it. My aunt wants us to meet up with some pastor
for counselling so that we have a better idea of what we
are doing.”
“But we don’t need any counselling for now, maybe we
can get those sessions before the wedding like normal
people,” he says.
“That’s exactly what I told her but she still insisted. She
says I still have to grow before we get married. Am I
childish?” I ask.
He laughs, “Sometimes you are but who said I want a
different version of you? Everything you are is what I fell
in love with. People look for wives for different reasons,
I’m not looking for a woman to join stokvels, prayer
groups, then cook and clean for me. There’s no
standard I want you to meet in terms of character and
duties. I’m okay with you the way you are, minus your
attitude.”
“Hawu!” I thought he said I’m perfect. “What about my
attitude?” I ask.
“Your feelings matter, that’s how you were raised, but
sometimes it’s not just your feelings that matter in a
situation. I’d like you to ask how I feel and what I think if
we are facing a situation. Not to just conclude based on
your feelings. It’s just that, other than that I don’t want
you to become anything you are not. I love you and my
mom loves you too.”
“Your mom?” I’m confused.
“Yeah, she loves you hence she’s comfortable around
you.”
Isn’t she dead?
“In the dreamland,” he puts me out of mystery.
I don’t think there’s anyone who’s not comfortable
around me, dead and living.
“I will talk to babomncane and hear what he says. I just
hope he agrees,” he says with a chuckle.
Mr X might find it difficult to balance his own affairs and
Nzalo’s. I understand why my uncle had a problem with
this Hadebe double dating.
“If he doesn’t agree what will you do?” I ask.
“We have relatives as well but the problem is that they
already came there to represent him as a possible
groom. Maybe I will get someone from my mother’s side
of the family.”
“Your mother was married so you can’t be represented
by someone who’s not a Hadebe. Even you do, they’ll
have to be instructed by a Hadebe to make sure they
follow the Hadebe traditions to the dot,” I say.
“Yoh, okay.” Nzalo has no clue about these things
whatsoever.
“And then what are we doing about the pastor meeting?”
I ask.
“It’s fine, I will go, but it’s not going to change anything I
have thought of and planned,” he says.
“Okay, that’s all from my side,” I say.
“Mmmm, so what are you wearing there?”
I roll my eyes, long distance relationship makes him
interested in useless things.
“I’m still fully dressed,” I say.
“I wish I was there to undress you.”
If I don’t change the subject, this will end in phone sex
and we are too old for that.
.
.
.

NOKUZOLA
We are out for the first time, attending a work event. I
didn’t want to come, I’m not in my best shape and look.
My nose grows everyday, my neck is dark. I scrub it
everyday but it’s not going anywhere. I got comfort in a
Pregnant Ladies Group when they told me it happens
when you’re pregnant, I will be fine once I give birth. I
requested a turtle neck dress, which he got for me last
minute. Luckily it did fit me, they only did changes
around the arms. It looks good, I look tall in it and I’m
wearing heels.
There are a lot of people, a lot more than I expected. It’s
an event for the elites, once you walk in it looks like
you’ve left South Africa. Darkies are speaking English
better than Eugen, my manager. I met Xolani outside his
working space, I have gone to some of his business
establishments and met his employees. I know he’s
quite monied but I did underestimate how big he is in the
industry. It intimidates me everytime he’s stopped by
someone I know from TV and they talk like equals.
Some even act like fans and stop him just to compliment
his achievements and so forth.
“Is this Mrs Hadebe to be?” one lady asks, she’s with a
white man with a British accent.
“Yes, her name is Nokuzola,” he says and tightens his
hand around.
I flash a smile, hoping it’s not giving anything away
about my scattered nerves.
“You look very young,” she says.
I didn’t need her to point it out. Yes, I haven’t met
anyone who’s my age unless it’s daughters with their
fathers. But I thought no one will pay attention since my
height is boosted by heels and a long dress.
I’m relieved when we walk away from them.
“Do you need another drink?” he asks before we sit.
“No, I’m good,” I say.
He kisses my cheek, we sit and flash smiles to our table
mates before shifting our eyes to the woman on stage. I
won’t lie and say I’m enjoying. Yes, drinks are flowing
and there’s a fine dining area, finger food on the table
and all. But I can’t wait to leave, this is not my crowd at
all.
“Oh here comes, Dr Zondo,” he says excitedly.
A man joins our table, he’s with his wife who’s my
mother’s age. They’re all happy to see each other;
friends are reunited. While he talks to Dr Zondo, I have
to chat with his wife as a friend.
“You never come out, he’s always telling us about you,”
she says.
“From now on, I will be coming out,” I lie to her face. I’m
never coming to these things again.
“Good, you need to mingle and meet all his associates.
What do you do?”
Eeh, she’s quite nosy.
“I work at New Universe,” I say.
“Germans own that company now, right? You need to do
something on the side, employment is never guaranteed
in this country. You are with Xolani Hadebe, get
something off the ground, even if you don’t end up
together you will know that you didn’t let opportunities
pass you by. I mean, every woman should walk away
with something from a relationship, we invest a lot in
these men.”
I nod awkwardly, “You are right.”
“I’m always right,” she smiles.
.
.
.

It was two hours but it felt like the whole night. My feet
are aching, I have never worn heels for so long. I take
them off as soon as we get inside the bedroom.
“Let me help you with the dress,” he says.
I turn around, he unzips it and pulls it up. It was a bit
tight, getting it off is a hustle. He kisses my neck, he
knows that I’m not secure about it at the moment.
“You were the most beautiful woman in the room. Did
you count how many people complimented you?” He’s
so silly.
“No, I was too nervous for that,” I say.
“Why? You were the most beautiful woman there and I
was so proud to be next to you,” he says.
I’m blushing, I know that’s his observation because he
loves me, there were a lot of more beautiful women
there. He rubs my belly.
“You shouldn’t be insecure about this body. It’s adapting
to the magic you’re nurturing in here,” he kisses it. “And I
love everything about it.”
“Thank you,” I need him to boost my confidence every
now and then. “Have you thought about Nzalo’s
situation?”
My dad wants to meet him and I know it’s about Nzalo
asking Nale to marry him the way he did. It was a bomb,
he hasn’t even gotten back to my dad about Nzalo
refusing to end the relationship with Nale. I know dad
will be hard on him.
“My cousin will go, I’m just worried because they’re not
close. He might say or do things the way Nzalo wouldn’t
like and you know how crazy that boy can be,” he says.
“I didn’t think they’d want to get married so soon. So if it
happens I will be Nale’s mother-in-law?” I can’t believe
this mess happening here.
“Yes,” he laughs.
“I always thought at some point in life we will live our
lives separately. We went to the same schools, lived
together and worked in the same company. Now we are
going to marry into the same family.” We have twinned
our whole lives and it looks like that will be so until
death.
“If you both can’t say no to the Hadebes, what can we
do?” He’s so full of himself.
“I’m only here because I’m pregnant,” I say.
“Really now?” The joke went above his head, he looks
hurt.
“I’m joking,” I say.
“Don’t joke like that. Are we showering together?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Okay but I’m not helping you, you’re here because
you’re pregnant, you don’t love me.”
Jeez, can’t he take a joke?
.
.
.

MSINDISI

Fraserburg is everything he expected and more. It’s like

God brought him here on purpose, he’s found his peace
of mind and the privacy he needed. A neighbor he has is
five minutes away; he’s a white farmer who lives with his
wife and their dogs. The road isn’t that great, he had to
get a Haval H6 for all his traveling around town. He’s
been alone ever since he got here, just him and his
small TV. He deactivated all his social media accounts,
he only keeps contact with his family from time to time.
He can live comfortably and not do anything, but nobody
retires at 25, it's not realistic. He talked to his uncle
about getting a job this side, Xolani knows people in
every province.
As soon as he completed his business marketing course
he started working for his father. He’s never really
drafted a CV and went for a job interview. Regardless of
how he’s getting his next job, it’s still essential for him to
submit everything he has to submit and go under
training.
A Jamal person coming to see him today. Xolani said
he’d be helping him with his job application, interview
and training. His uncle knows people, so he can’t even
question how he knows the Jamal person. He will be the
first person to ever enter his apartment.

He should be here anytime now, in his text he said by

5pm.
Oh, there’s a knock already.
He quickly puts his T-shirt on and runs his fingers
through his coiled, unkempt short hair. He’s been trying
to find a barber around with no success.
Oh, Jamal is a white man. Blue eyes, ear-length hair
and very muscly legs.
“Msindisi, right?” His perfect pronunciation is amazing.
He got it right at first attempt without even stuttering.
“Yes,” Msindisi says, opening the door wider for him to
walk in.
He has a couple of documents in his hand. He’s
probably around Xolani’s age, maybe they’re friends.
Msindisi offers him a seat on his L couch.
“Anything to drink?” he asks.
“Do you have beer?” Jamal.
“No, I don’t drink beer now. I have some ciders and
juice,” Msindisi says.
“Water is fine,” he says.
He gets bottled water and ice cubes in a glass.
“Thank you,” Jamal.
“You are welcome,” he stares at him.
Jamal is also staring at him. Is he not supposed to start
the conversation?
Msindisi takes a deep breath and asks, “So what are we
doing? You’re here to mentor me, right?”
“No, just guiding you. Your uncle said you’ve never
worked outside the family business. Can you take
instructions?”
What kind of question is this?
“Of course I can,” he says.
“Okay, you’re going to work for my friend and it’s a quite
big company. You’re joining the marketing team, there’s
a dress code and image one should have.”
“Okay, tell me more,” Msindisi.
“Do you have any formal clothes?” He looks at
Msindisi’s white socks and sagging pants.
“No,” Msindisi says.
“It doesn’t have to be suits, you just have to look
presentable. Also the hair, I think you will have to either
cut or comb when you’re going to work.”
He scratches the hair in question. Why does it sound
like this Jamal is here to judge him instead of helping
him with the actual work process?
“Your uncle said something about your attitude,” he
says.
“What attitude?” Msindisi raises his eyebrow.
“I think this attitude; frowning, raising eyebrows and
chuckling. You said you can take instructions, which is
what you’d have to do when you’re working for
somebody.”
“I don’t have any attitude. Is there anything else you’re
going to teach me beside telling me how not to be
myself?” Msindisi.
“Well, I think he was right. Can I have all copies of your
documents?”
“Sure,” he gets up and fetches them from the bedroom.
Jamal heaves a deep sigh and drinks water. Maybe he
could’ve met him first before agreeing to Hadebe's
request. This is not going to be an easy task.
Msindisi comes back, their eyes meet but they both
quickly look away. Jamal is judging him, he’s also
judging Jamal for judging him.
“Let’s get this done, I’m sure your wife and kids are
waiting at home,” he says.
“Not really,” Jamal says, reading through his papers.
“Why? Are you a bad husband, wife gets relieved when
you’re not home?”
“No, she’s late.”
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” he shouldn’t have made such
remarks.
“It’s been 3 years so I’m fine, thanks,” Jamal says and
shrugs. Then he asks, “So what made you leave home?
This is a quiet town, very boring and dry. I wouldn’t
expect a young gentleman like you to leave his colorful
life and move here.”
“Well, I don’t live up to Jamal’s expectations,” Msindisi
says.
“Your communication skills, zero,” Jamal says, his eyes
on the second document. He’s not even offended, he’s
already embraced himself for his hard head. “Have you
made any friends around?”
“No, everyone is old and white,” Msindisi says.
“Their bad!” Jamal.
He sighs, “I will make friends when I’m ready to, for now
I want to be by myself.”
“Are you a good friend to yourself?” Jamal.
“Why would I be horrible to myself? Is there anything I
didn’t include?”
“No, it’s all here. I will submit it to HR tomorrow and then
get your interview scheduled. I think you will start
training next week,” Jamal.
“No problem, thank you for coming over.”
Jamal finishes his water and then stands up, ready to
go.
“Keep well,” he says.
Msindisi walks him out of the door.
“Drive safely,” he says.
Now it’s time for Jamal to raise his eyebrow. “Wow,
that’s very nice of you.”
Why does Jamal think he is a bad person? Is it his uncle
who described him like that? He’s always been a nice
person but even the nicest people have bad days. Why
is his personality so exaggerated?
He has to put an end to this. Next time this Jamal comes
here, there will be cold beers waiting for him. It’s Jamal’s
job to get him ready for his new job and it’s now his
mission to prove himself to Jamal. He didn’t come here
to be known as the rude Zulu boy.
His eyes stay on Jamal, laced with worry.
“Your trouser is falling down,” Jamal says.
“It’s not, you are old,” he says.
This is the first joke that cracks Jamal up. Maybe he is
because he doesn’t understand why he’s dressed like
this.
“Bye Msindisi,” he walks away.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 93
NALENHLE

Mr X is not coming, I think he’s scared. There’s a cousin

coming instead, I don’t think it’s someone Nzalo knows
too well to trust. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of
him coming over. It’s a meeting between my uncle and
him, they’re going to discuss how bad it is for us to get
married. My uncle doesn’t want Zola with Mr X but he’s
okay with her getting married. With me, he doesn’t want
the marriage idea altogether, he thinks I’m going to fail
at it. That’s something Nzalo should worry about, not
him.

I woke up early to clean the yard and polish the floors.

My in-law is coming, I don’t want him to come to a
messy home. Now I’m cooking, I cannot starve him. I will
be serving them after they conclude the meeting.
Thami walks in, “There’s a car outside.”
Oh, they are here!
“Where is malume?” I ask.
“In the kraal,” he says.
“Take him to the rondavel.’
“There are two men,” he says.
“Are you sure?” I was only expecting one, the unknown
cousin.
Thami goes out to take them to the rondavel. I peep
through the window, I want to see how they look like.
WTF! Nzalo is the second person. My uncle will get a
heart attack because of this man. He’s not supposed to
be here, it’s his elder that was requested.
His head turns, I think he can see me behind the slightly
open curtain. I’m mad and happy at same time. He
shouldn’t be here but I can’t say he doesn’t look good in
those jeans and white T-shirt. My baby!
“And then?”
I quickly get away from the window. Damn, I was
cooking.
“Is that Nzalo?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say.
“Anikhuzani vele?” she asks- do we ever reprimand
each other.
“I told him not to come,” I say.
“Are you saying he doesn’t listen to you?”
“He does,” I say.
“Then how come he’s here after you told him not to
come?”
Nzalo is a grown up, I can’t tell him where to go and not
go.
She shakes her head, “You must enjoy it when your
uncle is scolding you and that boy.”
“I don’t,” I say.
She walks out. I also want to be part of that meeting but
I know I won’t be allowed to and I still need to finish
cooking.

Thami comes back, he’s all smiles.

“And then?” I’m curious.
He opens his hand, he’s holding a R200 note.
“It’s mine, for a drink,” he says.
“Just yours?” I mean, Nzalo is my boyfriend, I deserve a
cut.
“Yes, I’m going to buy my girlfriend….”
I’ve had it with that young gold-digger!
“No, buy something for yourself,” I say.
He frowns, “You can’t tell me what to do with my money.”
He’s right, I actually can’t.
“It’s…your blessings. You can’t give away your
blessings, you’re blocking the future ones.” I’m evil for
this but everytime this boy gets money he wants to give
it to the girlfriend. He also needs to spoil himself a bit.
He believes me on this one, he changes his mind and
says he’s going to buy himself a T-shirt. That’s more like
it. At least Nzalo has bought one family member to his
side, I know Thami will like him from now onwards.
.
.
.
I still have no idea what is being discussed in the
rondavel but Nzalo hasn’t been thrown out yet, that
gives me hope. I think he’s able to convince them that
he’s ready to get married and it’s me with my
imperfections that he wants to make a wife.
I have taken out my aunt’s Christmas plates that she’s
only used once.
“Yimihlola yami yini le?” She’s walking in and seeing her
plates on the table.
“I promise I’m going to wash them and put them back,” I
say.
“And who even told you to cook for them?” she asks.
“Isisu somhambi asingakanani aunty,” I say what she
always told us whenever she was dishing for visitors.
She said it’s important to serve guests, from anywhere,
even those we don’t know, it’s humanity.
“Did you starve malume when he was at your father’s
house?” I ask.
“Don’t compare this to what your uncle and I shared. We
did everything accordingly, your uncle was a known
boyfriend and he paid his dues,” she says.
“Nzalo will do the same,” I say.
She heaves a long sigh. “Come, your uncle wants to ask
you a few questions.”
God was fast answering my prayers this time. I quickly
gets out of the apron and wear a dress. I’m home and
they haven’t paid anything for me, I leave my head as it
is and follow her to the rondavel.

They’re sitting on the grass mat the same way Mr X sat.

We have chairs but my uncle is all about torturing
people. I sit next to my aunt and look at him,
coincidentally he’s also looking at me.
I smile, he smiles back then looks away.
“Your boyfriend just looked at me in the eyes and told
me you two have already agreed to get married. Is that
true?” my uncle asks.
“We talked about it. I’m not the problem when it comes
to that,” I say.
“Who is the problem?” the problem asks.
I keep quiet, it will be disrespectful if I say it here.
“You want to be a Hadebe, not a Thabethe?” he asks.
“I will use both, like Kim Kardashian West. She added
both surnames to her name. I will be Nalenhle Thabethe
Hadebe,” I say.
“No babe, I want you to be Nalenhle Hadebe, you can
carry Thabethe as a name, like most married women.”
He wants me to be MaThabethe Hadebe, instead of
Nalenhle Thabethe Hadebe. Using surname as a name
is for old people, I don’t want to be MaThabethe like I’m
selling clay pots.
“But I don’t want that,” I say.
“Then we need to have a conversation about it.”
“Okay,” I make a sad face.
“I love you,” he says.
I smile and keep my eyes as far away from my uncle as
possible. I love him too, I will just text it to him after this.
“And this is what I was talking about,” my uncle says to
the uncle he came with.
“As I said, he doesn’t mean it in any disrespectful way.
Love is beautiful and we should be happy if our kids fall
in love, not many young people get to experience love
these days. You see them in taverns every weekend,
none of them want to settle down.”
“I’m not happy if he doesn’t know how to carry himself,”
he says.
“He knows how to carry himself, that’s why Nalenhle
loves him. I don’t think you raised a daughter who can’t
make right decisions,” the Hadebe cousin says.
He looks at me and slightly he shakes his head. I don’t
make bad decisions frequently, maybe once a month.
“Do you want this?” he asks.
I nod, “Yes.”
“And if you decide half way through it that you no longer
want it, what must I do?”
“I won’t,” I say.
“You always do, Nalenhle. I don’t understand what the
rush is, you haven’t known this boy for long and you two
are always fighting, I don’t see why you want marriage
before you even understand each other. You’re a
hothead, I know you.”
“I know her too,” Nzalo says.
“Yeah, he also knows me,” I testify.
“You two, where do you think you are?” Now he’s mad
because Nzalo knows me?
Ayy, this old man needs to chill a bit.
“Wena! You’re not acting like someone I raised in a
village. Few months with this boy and you are already
acting like the uncultured Hadebes,” he says to me.
Calling them uncultured is an insult, and I’m not acting
like them in any way.
“Let’s step out for a minute,” aunty whispers.
We stand up and leave, I expect a confrontation. She’s
always been like this even when we were growing up,
she’d let us misbehave in front of people and then spank
us when we get home. I remember one day I was sick
and it was my mother’s clinic appointment, so she took
both of us to the clinic. I was 8 or 9, and I wasn’t patient
enough for the clinic long queues, I started demanding
things. She was nice about it, I kicked things inside the
supermarket and insisted on getting a doll. I got the doll
and still didn’t calm down, she had her hands full with
me and my mother. We got home and I couldn’t wait to
show off my doll. But the hiding I got that day made me
a bad mom to Lucy- the doll.

We get in the kitchen, she folds her arms.

“Since when do you disrespect your uncle in front of
people like that?”
“But I wasn’t disrespecting him, I just want him to know
that I love Nzalo and he loves me,” I say.
“Let him prove himself, you were not supposed to open
your mouth there. What’s wrong with you?” She’s angry.
“Tell him to let us be,” I say.
“He will run his house the way he wants to. As old as I
am, your uncle has never said he loves me in front of my
parents, he only did at our wedding and that was it.”
“But times have changed malumekazi and expressing
your feelings to someone is not really a bad thing. It’s
not disrespectful in any way,” I say.
“No, just shut up!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Can I ask?”
“What?”
“Do you think Nzalo doesn’t love me?”
She sighs heavily, “I don’t know.”
“But you know love better than me.” That’s what they’ve
been saying, they’re supposed to be experts in the love
department.
“Do you feel like he loves you and puts you first?”
“Yes,” I nod.
“Then he does but marriage doesn’t just take a man to
love you. How does his family feel about you?” she
asks.
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” I say.
“Well, you have to because in the long run it matters.
You’re not just marrying him but the whole family, there
are things you will be expected to do. He’s the eldest at
home, right?”
I nod, “Yeah.”
“Then you’re taking a big role, don’t let him fool you into
thinking it’s going to be a walk in a park. If his sister gets
a baby out of wedlock and then decides she has better
things to do than raising a baby, it will be your job to
raise that baby. The other brother’s wife or his other
wives that may come after you, will look up to you. You
have to wear bigger shoes, your whole life is going to
change and that’s what we are scared of.”
“I hear you but Zola is also getting married nje,” I say.
“I know but you are not like Nokuzola. You have different
personalities, she’s patient and tolerant, and you are
not. That’s why you’re always calling us whenever
there’s a little misunderstanding between you and him.
After you marry him, you cannot call us about those little
misunderstandings anymore, you’ll have to take it up to
his elders and in-laws are likely to take their son’s side, I
know this from personal experiences.”
Definitely, Mr X would do that. Now I’m a bit scared, I
won’t lie.
“I’m not saying you’re not good enough, you are. I just
want you to know what you are getting into, have a good
understanding and don’t make a decision you will regret
later in life,” she says.
“I hear you, thanks.” I release a deep sigh and get a
glass of water.
“Are you done here?” she asks, opening the bowl of
salad.
“Yes,” I say.
“You’re so extra! A little meeting and you’re already
cooking a storm. The day they bring lobola you will put
up a tent nkosi yami ngiyazisa,” she says.
I didn’t cook a storm; it’s just beef and rice, and two
salads. I will never let any guest who’s here for me leave
with an empty stomach.
“Your uncle will hate this, you know that right?” she says
when I cover their plates.
I also dished for him, I will serve them together in the
rondavel.
“He won’t shout at me forever.” I really don’t mind being
shouted at, whatever he says will not stick on my body.
.
.
.
NOKUZOLA

I had to send money home as soon as my payment

came through and it had to be more than what I usually
sent when Nale was also working. I don’t have any
financial responsibilities beside paying for my
insurances and sending money home, I’m saving the
rest for my baby’s arrival. I have been thinking about
what Dr Zondo’s wife said to me. I have been trying to
come up with business ideas and I haven’t come up with
a single one. Honestly I have never thought about doing
anything other than going to work as long as I’m
employed. Hair salon? I have to be passionate about
hair but I don’t even know the basic hair rules. Clothing
business is also not something I’m passionate about or
have any knowledge of either. I’m lazy, I don’t have any
hand skills.
“Hello kwaHadebe,” he says, walking in.
He’s been on a virtual meeting for the past two hours. I
have been on his laptop trying to figure something out.
“Hey,” I close it and sit up.
He kisses my cheek, “What are you busy with?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Now you’re keeping secrets from me?”
“Okay, I want to start a business,” I say.
He frowns, “A business?”
“Yeah, I want to do something, like a side hustle.”
“Why? Is what I give you not enough?”
Aargh!
“Of course not, I just want to have something under my
name, something I can be proud of and call my own,” I
say.
He doesn’t look happy at all.
“Since when?” he asks.
“Even if it’s been only a dream for a few minutes my
partner should support me,” I say.
“I will support you, who said I won’t? I’m just asking
where all this comes from. I can provide for you, if you’re
not satisfied you can complain. You work a 9-5 job, I
don’t have a problem with it, yet you come home tired
and we don’t spend as much time together because you
work Monday to Friday without a break. Now you want
to add something on top of it, that means you will come
back from work at 5pm and then attend whatever that
side hustle is going to be. When are you going to have
time to be a woman of the house?”
“Are you kidding me?” I didn’t expect this from him.
“I’m not, you can either keep your job or start your
business," I say.
“Why can’t I do both?” I ask.
“Because it’s going to be too much to handle and I don’t
want my child to have an absent mom. If you want to
start a business hand in your resignation letter and get a
business coach to assist you, whatever you decides on I
will help you get it off the ground and go through the
right channels. But you cannot do both.”
“I cannot???” Only my father can use these words to
me.
“You cannot, my love,” he says without hesitation.
I don’t want to be emotional, it’s already been a long day
for me. I pick the laptop and get away from him before
this blows out of proportion.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 94
NOKUZOLA

When the Hadebes came here to ask for my hand in

marriage I wasn’t home and I wasn’t fully aware. It’s
Saturday today and they have came back with half of
what my father requested as a bride price. They
could’ve paid it all at once but that’s against culture, you
cannot pay everything at once as if you’re buying a shirt.
They will come back again in two months with the rest
and then we will proceed to the following ceremonies.
Xolani ended up not coming to meet with my dad for the
second time, he appointed his cousin to handle Nzalo’s
affairs. There’s no decision made yet, I think when they
come back from Mpumalanga next week they will tell us
if they’re getting married or not. I have my own concerns
about it but I have witnessed those two in love, if love
conquers everything as they say, then they will be fine
even in marriage because if there’s anything about
them, they do love each other.

The first time they weren’t expected guests, today

they’re here and I’m also here making sure they receive
a good treatment. Sadly, I can’t cook for guests, I can
only cook for my family because they understand me.
Nale is in charge of the kitchen, I know she can cook,
she always cooks whenever we are hosting something
as a family. I’m only just concerned because she keeps
drinking her red wine while cooking.
She pours another glass and opens the pot of stew. “I’m
going to put two drops,” she says.
“No, are you crazy?” I stop her, she wants to spoil the
food.
“I’m not drunk Zola, I saw this on YouTube,” she says.
“But you can’t try new recipes on guests, try it with your
own food first.” I don’t think anyone adds wine to a stew.
Youtube has crazy things, not everyone there is mentally
stable.
“You don’t do anything except throwing silly instructions.
The Hadebes are also going to be my in-laws, why
would I mess their food?”
“Because you are drunk, duh!”
Mom walks in, exclaiming; “Is this how you are going to
carry yourselves kwaHadebe? Niyolwa emakhishini
khona.”
“We are not fighting,” I say.
“But I can hear you outside the door bickering. Wena, go
and cover your shoulders, your father wants you,” she
says.
“Why? Are they arguing?” I’ve been worried since they
started, it has taken very long, I think there’s a problem.
They’re no longer negotiating, they are here to bring
what he requested, now it’s either he’s bringing up the
past or changing his mind about certain things.

I cover my shoulders and follow my mom to the

rondavel. I don’t know any of these men, I only
recognize one from the event we attended, he’s a friend,
then the three others are a Hadebe family.
“You can see that she’s pregnant, right?” dad asks.
“Yes,” they say.
“So how are you bringing the bride prize before my
premises have been cleansed?”
My chest start burning. My mom whispers, telling me to
breathe. Why is he being difficult like this? Xolani has
been stressed this whole week, if this doesn’t go well he
will be devastated.
“We thought we’d do things separately, do what we are
here to do today and then come back to pay for the
damages,” one of them says.
“Nokuzola,” he says.
I swallow back, “Baba?”
My voice still comes out shaky.
“Whose house do stay in?”
He knows, I don’t know why he’s doing this. I can’t do
this, tears blind my vision, mom takes me out. My dad
always complicates things when it comes to Xolani.
There’s nothing he’s refused to do, he will pay for the
damages, he didn’t know they have to bring them first.
Dad could’ve told him what to do, not expect him to just
know how things are done at the Thabethes.
“What happened?” Nale asks when she sees me
walking in with tears on my face.
Mom takes me to the couch, Nale brings a glass of
water.
“Why does he hate Xolani so much?” I don’t understand.
“Nobody hates anyone, you need to stop crying,” mom
says.
“But he does, he doesn’t want him to get through
anything without a struggle.”
“Is he refusing the cows?” Nale asks.
“He is,” I say.
“Why?” She’s shocked.
“He is not refusing anything, your cousin’s emotions are
always high. Your father went through the same process
when he went to my family. Thamsanqa will go through
the same when he takes a wife. He just wants them to
know that they cannot do as they please, you have a
protective father they’ll have to deal with if they mess
with you. And they will appreciate you because they will
know how hard it was getting you. I don’t see why you’re
crying, your father is not doing anything wrong.”
Obviously she’s going to support her husband even
when he’s wrong. He gave the Hadebes a list of what he
wanted, they have brought those things to him and he’s
still being difficult.

My phone rings, it’s Xolani. They’ve probably told him

about the challenges they’re encountering this side.
“Hello,” I answer walking to my room.
“Hey my love, I’m on my way,” he says.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m a little scared but they say he’s getting calm. I just
don’t want you to be stressed in your condition,” he
says.
“I’m more worried about you,” I say.
“I will be there in 30 minutes or so. If he wants to
address anything with me personally I will be closeby.
Don’t worry, I will be okay, I’m a man there’s nothing I
can’t handle.”
I’m a bit relieved but I’m still worried because they’re still
in the rondavel.
Nalenhle walks in with a plate of food. “Here, eat and
you will be fine.”
“I will be fine once I hear they are done,” I say.
“I want us to talk about malume’s birthday. It’s Friday,
Nzalo and I are leaving on Saturday. I was thinking
maybe we can have a little celebration, he’s turning 48,
very soon he will be 50.”
“Nale do you really think I want to celebrate his
birthday?” I ask.
“Chill, if he wasn’t going to accept the cows he would’ve
kicked them out by now. I only have R600 to spend
though, I can buy a cake and baloons,” she says, going
on and disregarding my feelings.
I’m not in the right space to discuss dad’s birthday
celebration, I have a lot to worry about right now, that’s
the last thing.
She sighs, “Okay, what do you want to do? Cry until
they’re done.”
“Anything but to talk about birthday celebrations,” I say.
“Fine,” she sits next to me. “Tell me about new scandals
of New Universe or Mr X’s latest news.”
“There’s nothing. Onathi went back to college, that’s it,” I
say.
“Hawu you attended a very classy event. Are you trying
to tell me nothing happened there?” she asks.
“Nothing, all those people were boring except for Mrs
Zondo who advised me about starting my own business.
But Xolani refused,” I say.
“Refused?” Her eyes widen. “So he wants to be the only
millionaire in the house?”
“No, he wants me to resign if I want to start a business,”
I say.
“Huh?” She’s shocked.
Honestly, I haven’t talked about it again. We’ll probably
visit the topic again but I don’t think he will change his
mind. I do understand his concerns but at the end of the
day it has to be my decision.
“He said it will be too much to handle bla bla bla and sort
of gave me an ultimatum. Either I continue working or
resign and start a business,” I say.
“So what did you choose?”
“My job, for now,” I say.
“I think you can do both.”
“I know, right? But he wants to control me, I guess to
prove that he’s a man of the house. I will revisit the
subject some other time, for now I have to focus on
other things.”
“When are finding out the baby’s gender? I’m ready for a
little girl, I have so many clothes to pass down to her, as
inheritance,” she says.
I laugh out loud. My mom bought us all the clothes we
had as children and my mom’s sense of fashion is a
minus two. I can’t have my baby wearing all those
hideous dresses with butterflies.
Speak of the devil, she walks in.
“It’s done, you’re now a Hadebe fiance,” she says.
“Really?” I’m shocked and happy.
Dad gave a very unnecessary struggle.
“Yes, I told you not to worry,” she says.
I smile, tearing up again, but this time it’s tears of joy.
“Congratulations Mrs Senior Citizen!” Nale hugs me.
I don’t care what anyone thinks, I’m going to marry the
man of my dreams.
.
.
.

XOLANI HADEBE

Xolani arrived but everything was sorted, he just parked

and waited for his people in a distance. Nale comes out
with a covered plate of food on a tray and cold drink.
She makes her way to his car, Zola asked her to give
him something to eat.
He opens the door, looking at the short dress Nale is
wearing. “Is this my future daughter-in-law?”
“I’m your fiancé’s aunt here. Unjani?” she says.
“I cannot be any happier than this.” His wide smile
complements what he’s saying.
Yes, he’s over the moon.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he says.
“Please don’t lie and say you miss me.”
He chuckles, “I definitely won’t, there’s kaMaharaj.”
“Who is kaMaharaj?” she asks.
“Nzalo’s new, humble girlfriend.”
“From where?” she asks.
“Coffee shop, they love each other very much.”
“I will come and beat her up, she will fly back to
Mumbai.” She knows that whoever kaMaharaj is, she’s
not with Nzalo, maybe just a friendly girl working in a
coffee shop that Nzalo always goes to.
“You think being tall makes you untouchable, kaMaharaj
will beat the village out of you.” They’re still fooling
around, Xolani’s friend comes up to the car.
“Your father-in-law showed us flames,” he says.
Xolani laughs, “I heard, I’m glad you were able to
negotiate your way through.” He looks at Nale, “The day
I get my wife we will go to Paris and block all of you for
at least three months.”
Well, Thabethe appears and the banter dies
immediately. Nale takes the opposite direction, leaving
Xolani and his friend in the car. They cross paths.
“Where are you going?” Nale asks.
“I'm looking for my sheep along the road,” he says.
He walks and stops by the car though. Nale hurries
home to tip Zola off. Zola will worry, nothing good ever
comes out when those two hold a conversion. Is he
even supposed to approach his son-in-law outside the
yard?

Xolani is out of the car, expecting anything to happen.

“Nice to see you again Thabethe,” he says.
“You know that I’m not happy with you Hadebe, right?”
Thabethe.
He takes a deep breath, “I know.”
“I will lose my mind if you hurt my daughter. I’m going to
give you the benefit of a doubt and trust you with her,”
he says.
“Thank you,” Xolani says with a low sigh of relief.
“I told your people everything they need to do regarding
the pregnancy. Thank you for staying true to your words;
I received what I asked for. I’m looking for my sheep
before they destroy people’s crops.” He puts his stick
above his shoulders and takes two steps away.
Then he turns back, “Tell your son to stay away from my
house.”
“I will tell him,” Xolani says, but they both know very well
that Nzalo won’t stay away from his house as long as
Nalenhle stays there and telling him to come.
Today calls for a celebration, from here they’re all
heading to Durban to celebrate.
.
.
.

It’s his cousins and a couple of friends. They cleared a

Shisanyama section to celebrate him finally being a step
closer to having his wife and having a baby on the way
and one daughter in college. He struggled in life, really
struggled. If anyone told him at 43 he’d have everything
he has now, he would’ve told them to get out of his face.
They have meat and drinks, lots and lots of it.
“At some point I thought that man was going to chase us
out with dogs,” his cousin says, laughing.
“They have no dogs, just goats and sheep,” Xolani says.
“And now cows too. I saw him smiling down at his kraal,
seeing all five of them pushing each other inside,”
Mzobanzi says, they’re childhood friends.
“When we go back again he will be smiling from ear to
ear. I hope he has a bank to keep all that money, you
know village people dig holes to keep their money.”
They all laugh, Xolani is defending his father-in-law
saying he does have a bank.
His phone rings, it’s a number he doesn’t recognize.
He steps away from the noise and answers.
“Xolani, we need to talk,” the person says.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 95
NOKUZOLA

I couldn’t come back yesterday, I drove from home to

work by dawn. I’m seeing him for the first time since he
sent lobola, I’m excited. He’s already waiting for me as I
drive in.
He opens the door and embraces me in a tight hug.
“Hey makoti,” he says over my shoulder.
I don’t know, to me he sounds stressed.
I pull back and look at him. “Are you okay?”
“I missed you,” he says.
We kiss and hug again. I received a lot of
congratulations at work, news spread like wildfire. It’s
now public news that Xolani Hadebe paid lobola for me.
He smiles, his eyes are evident of fatigue. “I miss my car
too,” he says.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Yeah, can I have the keys?”
Well, it’s his car, he borrowed it to me. I give them back,
he kisses me and gets my bag.
We make our way inside, it smells good in the kitchen.
“I’m hungry,” I say.
“Aunty is setting the table, come this way.” He puts my
bag on the table and pulls me to the backdoor. I’m
confused.

He opens the door and pulls me out. I see her; black

and powerful, wearing a big ribbon as a crown. Her
majesty, the queen!
She’s mine, registered after me: X-MAKOTI.
LOL, and him too. She belongs to me and I belong to
him. I have been frozen, I haven’t said a word or moved
since my eyes landed on her. I just put my hands over
my mouth, in shock.
“Nazi izinyawo ezilula, this one is yours,” he says.
I turn around and bury my face on his chest. Yes, I
always dreamed of buying myself a Mercedes Benz, but
that didn’t happen. God has given me the car of my
dreams through the man of my dreams.
“Thank you so much,” I’m in tears.
“You’re welcome, ngiyak’thanda Nokuzola, ngenhliziyo
yami yonke.” He tightens his arms around me. I know
his love, I can feel it, everyday he shows me how much
he loves me.
He lifts up my face, his face is heavy with emotions.
“God answered all my prayers with you. No matter what
happens, always know that I love you with my heart.”
“I love you too, thank you.” I stand on my toes and kiss
his lips.
Oh God, thank you!
He hands me the keys and walks me to my car. It’s
beaming at me, my first baby, my queen. She’s brand
new, her leather seats are shining and smelling like my
dreams. I need a moment, I have to give a silent prayer
and thank God first.
He’s standing outside, watching me with a smile on his
face.

I reverse her, she moves like a dream. I hit the hooter,

he waves his hand smiling. I’m just driving around the
yard, testing her out.
I call Nale before everyone else, she’s excited and
wants pictures of it, together with the personalized
registration. I know a man spending on you doesn’t
mean he loves you, but Xolani loves me. He goes above
and beyond for me. He always makes it his
responsibility for me to live comfortably. I have my own
imperfections and he never complains about anything
that I can’t do perfectly or do wrong.
I don’t know how long I have been inside my car, by the
time I finally lock the doors he’s returned back inside the
house. I find him downing a shot of Vodka.
“Hey,” he looks a bit startled when I walk in.
“Why are you drinking?” I ask.
He just smiles and wraps his arms around me. I hope it’s
just work stress because we have conquered a lot of
things together, even Skhundla Thabethe. He had no
other choice but to surrender to our love.
“Do you want to eat first or take a shower?” he asks.
“Eat, I’m starving.” I wash my hands and follow him to
the balcony where our supper is set.
It’s a special one, he grabs a napkin and sit across me,
we are facing each other.
“Have you talked to your manager about getting you a
bigger uniform?”
“Really now?” I don’t want to talk about work and
uniforms right now.
“This one is getting a bit tight,” he says.
“And I can see that, my love. Tell me about your
weekend, how did you celebrate?”
He smiles, “It was good, I wish you were there with us.
But we’ll make our own time and go celebrate together.”
“Dad worships his new family,” I say.
“Family?” He raises his eyebrows.
“His cows. I forgot their names but each has a unique
name,” I say.
He smiles, “At least I’m now on his good side.”
“You are, I never thought it would ever happen.” Now I’m
happy to plan his birthday celebration with Nale. It’s
going to be a family thing, I will go and take them to
town. Then we will find a restaurant and celebrate there.
“Let me get my phone, sorry,” he says and leaves the
table.
He’s been acting strange, I follow him to get a bottle of
hot sauce, they forgot to put it on the table. I get it from
the kitchen, when I turn my eyes he’s not getting any
phone but having a drink. Xolani is not a heavy drinker,
sometimes I even forget that he drinks.
“Hey,” he says, wiping his lips and coming to me.
“What’s going on?” Now I’m convinced that something is
wrong.
He looks stressed, he’s drinking nonstop, I doubt it has
anything to do with work.
“I had a bad week at the casino,” he says.
“You didn’t make money?” I’m confused.
“Yeah, not so much,” he says.
“Yet you bought me a car. If you have financial
challenges you shouldn’t overburden yourself,” I say.
“No, I don’t have financial challenges. It always stresses
me when we are having a bad week.” He’s lying, we’ve
been together for a long time and he’s never been
stressed by any of the businesses bad weeks.
“Are we lying to each other again?”
“No,” he says.
“Then what’s going on?”
“It’s something I have to discuss with the elders,” his
chest bounces as he takes a deep breath. “I don’t know
Nokuzola, I’m confused, I’m scared.”
“That sounds serious,” I’m also scared now.
“It is,” he says.
His eyes have turned bloodshot within a minute.
“You know that if you want to talk I’m here for you,
right?”
He nods, “I know sthandwa sami, thank you.”
“Let’s go and eat then, everything will be fine.”
.
.
.

I set up an alarm clock, I want to act like a traditional

wife. Iron his clothes, make him breakfast and pack his
lunch. I hear it ringing before someone abruptly switches
it off. But I’m already awake, I open my eyes and find
him wide awake. I thought he’d be still asleep, I wanted
to surprise him. It doesn’t look like he had a peaceful
sleep, his eyes are red-rimmed.
“Hey,” I shift closer to him.
He wraps his arm around me and kisses my forehead.
“Why are you waking up so early?” he asks.
“I want to iron your clothes and make you breakfast, like
how other women do for their men,” I say.
“I hired someone to do that for me, rest,” he says and
blows out a deep sigh. His arm tightens around me.
“How did you sleep?”
“I slept good, wena?” I ask.
“I slept,” that’s all he says.
I know he hardly slept and it has to do with the thing
that’s stressing him.
“We still have time, don’t you want us to tickle Peanut a
little bit?”
I laugh, “Seriously?”
“Please, maybe I will get energy to go to work.” He
drops his hand to my breasts and plays with my nipples,
while brushing his lips against my neck.
My breaths start getting heavy as I feel his hard shaft
poking me.
“Nokuzola,” he says in a low whisper.
“Yes love,” I open my eyes and look at him.
“I love you,” he says.
“I know that, Xolani.”
“I don’t think you know how much I do. The thought of
not having you one day kills me. I don’t see how I’d live
without you. So ngiyacela, whatever happens between
us, don’t leave me. Ungang’shiyi Nokuzola.” His voice is
shaky and low.
“Why are you talking like this? I’m your fiance, I’m not
going anywhere.” I gently pull on his beard, looking in
his eyes hoping he receives an assurance that he
needs.
“I don’t know what the future holds for me,” he says.
How scared he actually sounds is what confuses me.
“You’re not dying, angithi?” I ask.
He smiles, “No, I’m only dying to get here.”
His hand slides between my thighs. I’m glad to see him
with a smile on his face.
.
.
.

Dad didn’t want to celebrate his birthday, he hardly ever

does. It took a lot of convincing for him to come out. I
don’t agree with how he does things at times but one
thing I can never say is that he’s ever abandoned us, his
family. We have always had a father, even when he
worked far from home he was visiting us after every two
weeks, coming to our school meetings if mom was busy
with Nale’s mother, and he made sure that we never
went to bed hungry. I have never seen a man loving his
special sister the way this man did. Nale could’ve turned
out differently but she turned out okay and that’s
because of him and my mom. Nale had a lot of struggles
and grievances growing up. I didn’t understand it back
then but I understand it now, my dad stood in gaps most
of his life.
“Where is the cake Nale?” I ask.
“Relax, it’s coming,” she says.
We all fit on the table but there’s an extra chair that I
think was brought by mistake. I contributed, so did Nale
and my mom, then Nale organized everything.

Our starters arrive; smoked salmon and guacamole

shots. Nzalo introduced Nale to the fine dining life, both
parents ask for chicken strips and sauce instead.
“My birthday is coming up soon as well,” Thami says.
“Next year is not soon,” I say.
“It’s soon because you guys have to start preparing
early,” he says.
Mom waves him off, “You didn’t even care for your
birthday this year, you went to your friends to play
soccer.”
“Exactly!” I remember that very well, he wasn’t even
grateful.
“Because it wasn’t in a restaurant,” he says.
“No, you are ungrateful nje qha,” mom says.
We finish our starters, a few minutes later our main
arrives.
Oh, here comes the cake too.
“This wasn’t necessary,” Mr party says, he’s
overwhelmed. “I feel like I’m about to die when I start
receiving love like this.”
“You have to get used to it because this is going to
happen every year now,” I say.
“I’m a spoiled dad,” he smiles.
“And brother,” Nale says.
“Who is your brother? Dad or uncle,” he says.
It’s great that Nale only found out recently that she’s his
half-sister too, otherwise their relationship would’ve
been totally different. She wouldn’t have respected him
the way she does.
“When are you cutting the cake? I’m salivating,” mom
asks.
“Yet you complain about inyongo everytime I buy you
chocolates,” he says.
Nale and Thami look at each other. I’m confused, do
they not see the chocolates and get their portions?
“What chocolates?” Nale asks.
“Let’s eat, I will cut the cake,” dad says, ignoring the
question Nale asked.
“You eat chocolates without us,” Nale won’t let it go.
Thami laughs. These two oldies are becoming criminals
of the house.
The man of the house is finally 48, stubborn as ever and
still strong as ox. He cuts his cake, we feast on and pack
the rest to take with us home.
“When are they telling you the baby’s gender?” he asks
me.
I didn’t think he cared.
“Very soon but I’m not sure that I want to know yet,” I
say.
“But it’s better to know and know what you’re preparing
for. If it’s a boy I will start curving him sticks he will use
to control my goats with when herding them.”
“Already Thabethe?” I laugh.
Nale wants it to be a girl to inherit her hideous childhood
dresses and my dad wants a boy to herd his goats.
“Before I forget, why does Hadebe want a meeting?”
“A meeting?” I’m confused.
“His people called me and said he wants a meeting. I
thought you knew.” It’s news to me, Xolani hasn’t said
anything about wanting to meet my dad.
“Maybe it’s about the damages process and stuff.” I’m
not comfortable hearing this but I can’t show that to him.
I don’t think Xolani would just request a meeting with
him if it wasn’t between life and death.
“Look who is here!” Thami gets up excitedly.
We all turn our heads, Nzalo?
He’s coming here, carrying a wrapped gift box in his
hand.
I look at Nale, she’s smiling. Damn, she invited him. I
think Nale can’t live without my dad’s irritation; she
thrives in it.Thami is the happiest person right now.
Nzalo greets, “Sanibonani.”
We greet back except Mr Party.
Nale shows him a seat.
Does he still need introduction?
“Umhhh, happy birthday malume,” he says, passing the
little box to my dad.
I see my dad taking a deep breath. “Thank you. What is
this?”
“Oh, it’s a gift, a watch,” Nzalo says.
“I look at the sun to know time,” dad says.
I understand he’s not used to this but he can’t decline a
gift, that’s rude.
Mom smiles, “He loves watches, thank you.”
Dad is staring at him, if looks could kill Nzalo would be
dead by now.
I don’t think Nzalo knows that my dad carries a stick
everywhere he goes.
“How is Orintshi?” he asks.
Nale laughs. Mom shakes her head and laughs too.
I’m not sure which one is Orintshi but I know it’s one of
the cows.
“She’s fine,” dad says.
“How old are you now?” It’s such an innocent question
coming from Nzalo.
But dad’s face! I can’t hold myself, I laugh.
“I'm 48,” he says and slightly shakes his head.
Nale is not helping Nzalo learn the village ways of doing
things, so it’s either he accepts Nzalo as he is or be
tortured forever.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 96
NALENHLE

I wanted my first time traveling to have passports and

booked flights. But I’m out of KZN for the first time, I feel
very blessed not to breathe the same air with my birth
people. We arrived two hours ago and checked in to our
hotel. I already have a lot that I want to explore here,
they have a pool and a bar area, I want to be in those
places. But Nzalo wants us to rest a bit and then go
check on Lwethu. We didn’t tell her that we are going to
be this side, it’s going to be a nice surprise. I hope she
will join us tomorrow, there are a lot of places to visit and
the man I’m with can be uptight at times. I want to start a
traveling vlog, so I need to capture every moment
tomorrow.
“So have you made your decision?” he asks, coming
back from a call.
“About what?” I ask.
“Us getting married, my uncles are waiting for an
answer,” he says.
“Sit,” I shift my legs, making space for him.
He takes his shirt off and sits.
“I don’t mind getting married to you, you know that. But
my aunt scared me off, so I have been thinking more
about the kind of marriage we will have.”
“I’m listening,” he says.
“Do we have similar goals? I don’t even know when you
want to have children and how many you want. Do you
want a housewife or someone who’s going to work and
bring half bread to the table? And then polygamy, do you
hate it the way I do?”
He chuckles, “I don’t hate polygamy.”
“So I must expect a sisterwife in future?”
“I don’t think I can handle two women, not hating it
doesn’t mean I want to be a polygamist myself. I think
we can talk about having kids instead,” he says.
“I do want to have kids but only in marriage. I grew up
without a dad, I want my kids to have both parents under
one roof,” I say.
“Well, we can get married first, travel the world and
enjoy life together, before having kids. But I want to have
at least one baby before I turn 40,” he says.
“So we still have a few years to ourselves,” I’m happy
with this, it can work.
“Yeah, there’s no rush. About working, I will support
whatever you want to do. As long as it’s not traveling
and leaving me at home to record an unsuccessful vlog,”
he says.
Right after claiming to support everything I do, now my
vlog won’t be successful.
“I will shame the devil,” I say.
He laughs, “I love you, so I won’t lie to you. How many
times did you record and delete your introduction
speech?”
“I can’t get it right the first time because I have to speak
English to accommodate all my fans and I’m nervous.”
He’s such a horrible boyfriend, instead of supporting me
he’s mocking me.
“Your fans?” He laughs.
“Future fans,” I say.
So far he’s the only person who’s subscribed to my
channel. Zola said she will subscribe later. We all start
somewhere, right?
“So my beautiful vlogger, you have said yes?”
I smile, “I did.”
“Come here,” he pulls me to his arms.
We hug and kiss. This didn’t happen the way I always
dreamed of, the proposal wasn’t a question but a
discussion that took weeks. Nevertheless, I’m very
happy, I love this man with my whole heart.
“Thank you,” he says, smiling.
Happiness is written in his eyes. I won’t give him what
Msindisi and MaMkhwanazi gave him, but our journey
will bring him happiness and his own family in a couple
of years to come.
.
.
.

We had our late lunch and then went to the shops to buy
grocery for Lwethu. I don’t know what she likes, so I
didn’t buy a lot, her brother will leave her with some
cash to buy the rest when she gets free time. We have
arrived to the apartments, it’s late, she’s definitely back
from any daily activity she may have been busy with
during the day.
Nzalo carries all the shopping bags, I’m behind him busy
with my recording. We make our way in, it’s quiet
outside, everyone is indoors, it’s cold, you only hear
radios and TVs. I stop recording outside the door.
Nzalo knocks a couple of times before the door opens.
A half naked boy? Are we at the right place?
“Where is Lwethu?” Nzalo asks, he’s sure this is the
right apartment.
The boy looks back, Lwethu’s voice comes from inside
asking who’s at the door. Maybe this is a roommate,
they’re sharing rent and both hate staying at the student
residences.
Nzalo walk in, I follow right after, I want to see what’s
going on.
Lwethu is half naked as well.
“Hhayi-bo!” I’m shocked.
The boy is standing by the door, probably contemplating
between running off and standing with his half-naked
partner.
“Why are you here?” She’s shaking.
I look at the boy, then back at her. They’re probably age
mates, that’s a relief.
“Who is this boy and why is he in the apartment I rent
for?” Nzalo.
“It’s…it’s Thabiso,” she says, stuttering.
Nzalo turns and instructs the Thabiso to come closer.
He’s put everything down and I’m not sure what he’s
thinking. I stand in the middle, I don’t want to be arrested
in Mpumalanga.
“Why are you here?” he asks.
Thabiso looks frightened. “I’m helping Lwethu with her
assignment.”
“Where is the assignment?” Nzalo.
Poor boy, he doesn’t even know what to do.
I look at Lwethu, “Is he your boyfriend?”
She nods.
My eyes trail down to her lower body wrapped in a
towel. That’s a lot of kilos she’s gained, she didn’t look
like this the last time we saw her.
Nzalo is going off, he’s making noise and scaring them.
“Let me talk to them,” I say.
“No, I sent you here to come and study, wena ufuya
oskhotheni!”
“Nzalo please,” I touch his arm.
He looks at me and exhales heavily. “I will be in the car,”
he says.
He walks out, I close the door after him and turn back to
these two.
“Guys seriously, do you live together?” I ask.
Lwethu nods, sheepishly.
Disappointing!
“For how long?” I ask.
“Maybe two months, I wasn’t well so I asked him to
move in with me,” she says.
“But we always chat on Whatsapp and you’ve never said
anything about being sick. Is it being sick making you
gain weight?” I ask.
She drops her eyes.
I look at Thabiso. “Does your mother know that you’re
cohabiting instead of studying?”
“I am studying,” he says.
“But does she know about this arrangement?”
He shakes his head and drops his eyes as well.
“Your brother is angry but I will talk to him, tomorrow
we’ll take you to the doctor,” I say.
“Huh-ah Nale, I don’t want to go to the doctor,” she
refuses.
“Aren’t you sick?” I ask.
“Not anymore,” she says.
I think she’s found out, I can see it too. I doubt Nzalo
noticed, men are dumb.
This is not what we came here for, Nzalo will lose his
mind.
“We brought you these, we are here until Tuesday, we
will call,” I say.
“Okay, thank you,” she says with a sigh of relief.
This Thabiso is in a big problem, his parents should’ve
raised him better. Lwethu couldn’t even wait to finish her
course before having unprotected sex. God help us all!
.
.
.
XOLANI HADEBE

They came to meet up with Thabethe; him and his

cousin. He’s scared but his fear of Thabethe is nothing
compared to what he stands to lose if he doesn’t get
help. Thabethe can judge him and hate him, but all that
don’t matter now. He’s Zola’s father, if there’s anyone
who can help with this it’s him and his wife.
He can’t even look at Zola without panicking. They come
very far, it took time for her to forgive him and heal from
everything. They’re finally happy and now, Robyn. She’s
back in town with bomb.
Thabethe lets them inside the rondavel, his wife is
present but busy with house chores. It’s a good thing
that Nale went on a trip, otherwise Zola would’ve heard
this the wrong way.
“I have been anxious,” Thabethe says as soon as they
sit down.
“It’s not good, Thabethe. That’s why we reached out,
since we have agreed to be one family we thought it’s
better we ask for help from you,” his cousin says.
“What kind of help?” Thabethe asks.
“Xolani received bad news from his old flame, the one
they fought about these last couple of months. It’s not
something he’s brave enough to break it to her, hence
we are here to ask you to talk to her as a family,” his
cousin says.
“What bad news are those?” Thabethe asks, already
looking at Xolani with judging eyes.
He just knows it’s going to break his daughter’s heart.
“Her name is Robyn and she’s pregnant. We don’t know
who the father really is but she insists that it’s a Hadebe
baby, so he has to take charge until the baby is born and
DNA tests are conducted. It’s difficult for us to tell
MaThabethe such news, maybe if you talk to her mother
and she tells her, the best way possible, she won’t take
it badly.”
Thabethe shakes his head, “You want us to make her
cry?”
“Thabethe this is hard, the woman in question has
health challenges and MaThabethe cannot be kept in
the dark for long because she will take their
communication for something else. She’s also pregnant,
we don’t want to put her at risk.”
“I knew you’d do this, that’s why I didn’t trust you. So
that woman is going to be in your life until she gives
birth. You know very well how Nokuzola is, she won’t
take this kindly,” Thabethe.
“This happened a long time ago and we have doubts
regarding that baby’s paternity. But since the mother is
not well, we cannot do anything but help and wait.”
“And what if it happens to be a Hadebe baby?”
Thabethe.
“Then the baby will be welcomed and raised as a
Hadebe," he says.
“Oh, my daughter will have to deal with a man who has
kids from different mamas? I shouldn’t have open my
doors for you, I knew something was going to happen,
nx!” He stands up, taking a heavy sigh.
Khululiwe walks in with drinks.
“No nkosikazi, they’re already leaving,” Thabethe says.
“Awu, without even having a drink?” Khululiwe asks.
“Yes,” Thabethe.
They both stand up and say their goodbyes.

Khululiwe couldn’t even wait to hear what they came for.

Thabethe looks angry.
“Thabethe yini?” she asks.
“You need to call Nokuzola, tell her to come home," he
says.
“Why?” She’s confused.
“There’s something we need to tell her.”

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 97
NALENHLE

I didn’t tell him last night, I needed our trips to go

smooth, without him being sour. It’s been a long day, we
owe Lwethu a call, but we are tired from all the activities
and trips. I get in the shower after him, when I come out
he’s ordered food and got us drinks. He’s still mad at
Lwethu, he’s going to be more mad when I tell him
what’s going on. Lwethu confirmed my suspicions when
we chatted on Whatsapp last night. I feel like my aunt
has a bad mouth, why is Lwethu pregnant right after she
told me about a sister-in-law who gets pregnant out of
wedlock and leaves the baby home?
“Are you calm?” I ask.
He frowns, “What do you mean?”
“I have to tell you something.” I wrap a towel around my
chest and join him to eat.
He’s looking at me curiously.
“It’s about Lwethu,” I say.
He scoffs, “I don’t want to hear anything about that
child.”
“But I think you have to hear this,” I say.
“Ok, what does she want?” he asks with a low sigh.
“She’s pregnant,” I say.
He stops eating, almost spills his drink as he pushes the
plate away.
“Whaaat?”
“She’s pregnant,” I repeat.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”
Why is he standing up now?
“Nzalo sit down,” I pull his arm.
He pulls it back and walks around, his arms on the
waist.
“She says Thabiso moved in because she was feeling
sick, then they discovered that she’s actually pregnant,”
I say.
“Pregnant? Lwethu just got out of high school, she
insisted on leaving the province for lamanyala lawa?
What does she know about having a baby? Being a
mother?”
“I don’t know, what I know is that she’s scared,” I say.
“Scared of what? If she can sleep with a boy, without
protection and fall pregnant, she’s definitely not scared
of anything in life.” He’s not going to calm down.
I let him be and eat my food. He’s pacing around,
cursing and asking me questions. Eventually he takes
his phone and calls her. It’s a new sibling rivalry,
unfortunately Lwethu is wrong, I cannot defend her.
After a long blasting call, he finalls ends it and comes
back.
“I think she should come here, for us to talk,” I say.
“About what? She’s here to study, I have nothing to talk
to her about regarding the pregnancy. She will sort it out
with that boy’s family, ang’hlangene,” he says.
“But they can’t take the baby without doing things right
with the family.”
“Then tell her uncle, not me!” he’s shouting at me now.
“I’m just advising,” I say, raising my hands up.
“I’m not pregnant, don’t advise me,” he says.
It’s definitely not happening today, I will call Lwethu and
check up on her. Then when this one is calm he will call
Mr X, I’m sure Mr X will handle this way better.
.
.
. HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 100
NALENHLE

Robyn is pregnant?
No, I don’t believe it. Why did she wait until Mr X brought
lobola to announce it. NSA never ends well, in most
cases. No woman would be okay with a man who fucks
her for years and then meets another woman and
proposes marriage in less than five months. I think the
biggest mistake Mr X would make right now is playing by
her instructions, which I’m afraid he’s already doing.
She’s back in KZN, supposedly sick and unable to
maintain herself. If he falls into it, they will be tempted
again, and the second time I don’t think Zola would
forgive him.
Speaking of her, let me get the hot tea straight from the
horse’s mouth.
She answers immediately, I bet she was on the phone,
not Mr X’s chest.
“Hey, can we talk?” I ask.
“Yes, what’s up?” she says.
“I just heard about Robyn. Is it true?”
“Let me put you on loudspeaker…”
I’m confused. Why am I going on loudspeaker?
“Nale wants to know if you really made Robyn
pregnant?” she’s asking Mr X, they’re together.
Is Zola mad? She’s ruining my reputation, now my future
father-in-law will think I’m a mamgobhozi.
“Why are you doing this?” I hear Mr X’s voice.
“What am I doing? Did you make her pregnant or not?”
Oh fuck, I just ignited a fight with my nosy ass. I know
how Zola gets when she’s angry, she will shred him into
pieces, I feel sorry for the senior citizen. I mean, he was
already forgiven for this sin and now he’s back to the
naughty corner, all because he fucked a crazy woman.

I drop the call, they are arguing. Let me call my

boyfriend instead, I’m sure this is the secret he was
keeping from me.
“Babe,” he answers.
“Hey my love, call me back.”
He laughs. I drop the call and wait a minute before my
phone rings.
“I’m still working, what are you up to?” he asks.
“I’m in bed, why don’t you work in the morning? You’re
the boss, nobody is going to say anything even if you
don’t finish it,” I say.
“I don’t like having unfinished work, you know me.”
“Okay, how is Lwethu?” I ask.
I hear a sigh. His sister’s pregnancy hurt him badly.
“She’s at babomncane’s, I haven’t seen her today but
we spoke.”
“Has she decided about what she’s going to do?” I ask.
“She has to continue with her studies. Babomncane
wants the baby to go and stay at Umlazi but I’m not sure
about that,” he says.
“But what other choice do you have? She can’t go with a
baby to university. Even if you hire a nanny, nannies
arrive in the morning and leave in the afternoon.”
“It can be a stay-in,” he says.
“That doesn’t mean working 24 hours, the baby will need
a guardian.” I think it’s better to send the baby to
Thabiso’s home and help financially.
“Eyy, I don’t know babe,” he sighs heavily.
“It’s bad, but once again, congratulations on being an
uncle.”
He clicks his tongue, “It’s not an achievement. When are
you coming to see me?”
“I don’t know, faka imali yokuza,” I say.
“I feel like you’re going to scam me. How much is it
again?”
“R500,” I say.
“Nalenhle!” He’s stingy AF.
“I’m including a McDonald’s meal on the way.”
“Fine, I will deposit it. When are you coming?”
“Tomorrow,” I say.
“Okay, I love you uyezwa?”
“I love you too, bab’ wekhaya.”
“What?” He’s laughing.
See, we are planning marriage but we don’t even take
married people’s language seriously.
.
.
.

I woke up late today, I didn’t even see Thami leaving for

school. I need to do my laundry and collect firewood to
cook sugar beans, that’s what I’m craving for. I can’t
cook it using electricity, aunty would kick me out.
I need to have breakfast first, then do my laundry before
the sun goes up. I find my uncle in the kitchen, he’s
stirring a pot of noodles.
“Malume?” I’m surprised.
“Hey, how are you?”
“I’m hungry. Why are cooking Thami’s noodles?” I mean,
we are not allowed to eat them, they’re for him to eat if
there’s no breakfast because he can’t go to school with
an empty stomach.
“Thami doesn’t buy anything here,” he says.
This is new! I watch him getting a plate and dishing all of
them. Two red chillis, I know this is for his wife. He’s
stealing the child’s noodles to spoil his wife. Clap once,
clap twice!
I eat my dry breakfast and start with my day’s activities.
My laundry dries on the line, I take the machete and
head to the bushes to collect firewoods.

I’m not a fan of ukutheza, I always have a bundle thinner

than my body. I can count how many woods I’m tying up
here with my fingers. I put it on my head and make my
way back home. The sun is scorching, I was hoping not
to bump into anyone, I’m not in my best clothes.
Mbuzeni is walking hand in hand with a very light-
skinned woman that I can’t recognize. Mbuzeni was a
thug, when did he settle down?
As tired as I am, I will stop and make small talk.
“Hhayi-bo sesinoskwiza?” Right now I’m a typical village
girl not doing anything with her own life.
Yes, I’m very interested in people’s businesses.
“How are you Nalenhle?” Mbuzeni asks.
The woman gives me a frown, so I give her a frown
back. Mbuzeni and I are not even the same age for her
to frown at me. He wanted Zola years back and she
turned him down because he was older than her. He’s
younger than Mr X though, so I guess he needed to bath
more.
“I’m fine, I haven’t seen you in a long time,” I say to
Mbuzeni.
“I got here yesterday to show mam around,” he says,
sort of bragging.
Mam is giving me faces, I don’t know where I know her
from. It’s like she’s trying to figure me out as well.
“We left the car kwaNxele because the road going home
is bad, that’s why you see us walking,” he says.
“Right!” I feel like he just wants to tell me that his woman
has a car.
“Yeah, she also needed to stretch her legs,” he says,
linking his arm around her waist.
Oh, mam is pregnant too.
Things must be going well for him to get a pretty woman
like this. Last time I heard he was working for a security
company. He looks good too, I must say.
“Bye Nalenhle, let’s not keep you,” he takes her hand,
they walk away. He has an umbrella above her head
with one hand. Yep, Mbuzeni can be romantic.
High heels on the village makoti? Ay, I have seen it all.

I don’t even start the fire, I rush inside the house to tell
my aunt about what I just saw.
“Malumekazi ungabona!” I say.
She lowers the radio volume.
I sit down next to her, “You still remember Mbuzeni,
MaNdlela’s first son? He has a colored makoti, she’s
wearing heels and walking around with an umbrella.”
“Oh, I heard that. But MaNdlela said her daughter-in-law
is white,” she says.
“No, mixed, she’s not white. She’s pregnant already.” I’m
shocked.
Mbuzeni was stabbing people growing up.
“Bad timing, inebhadi leyontombazane because he just
lost his job in that security company he was working for,”
she says.
“She looks monied, I’m sure she’s the one taking care of
him, plus she has a car.”
“I don’t trust these city women, she probably fell
pregnant for him by mistake.”
Well, I can’t say they look compatible. But love knows no
color, no age, no thug. So it’s possible that she found
love in a hopeless place.
.
.
.

NOKUZOLA

I wake up in the middle of the night to pee, he's awake

and sitting in the dark. We have been fighting nonstop,
there’s nothing I haven’t said to him. I think he
understands what pain is and how it feels like when
inflicted by someone that you love and care about.
I don’t switch off the light when I come back from the
bathroom. I get in bed and look at him. I don’t think he’s
had any sleep. I do feel sorry for him a little bit, I know
how hurtful some things I said were.
“Have I ever disrespected you unprovoked?”
No answer.
“Have I ever woke up in the morning and did something
to hurt you?”
His silence is a no.
“When you’re sitting in the dark, hurting because you
hurt me and brought out the worst in me, you look like a
victim. But you know very well that I respect you, I listen
to you and do my best to make you happy. That is until
you take all that and throw it on my face. I don’t hurt
anyone Xolani, unless they hurt me.”
He clears his throat, “What did I do?”
“Really?” I’m trying to have a calm conversation he
wanted, I don’t want any smart questions.
“I didn’t lie about anything, I didn’t keep any secret. Why
are you fighting me?”
“So I’m in the wrong?” I ask.
“No, but tell me what I have done wrong?”
“You brought her back into our lives,” I say.
“How? I didn’t look for her, she called me and said she’s
pregnant. I have never slept with that woman without a
condom, not even before I met you. Fine, mistakes
happen and condoms aren’t 100% guaranteed, but I
handled the issue with an amount of respect, for you
and your family.”
“Have you ever been cheated on before?” I ask.
“Obviously, yes,” he says.
“And how long were you angry at MaMkhwanazi?”
He doesn’t answer. Well, the answer is, he’s been mad
at her since his 30s. Yet he expects me to get over it
within a couple of months. Yes, I did forgive him and I
was okay until his actions brought her back to my life.
“You went out and bought condoms, you were turned on
by another woman. You went back to the room, got
naked and kissed each other. You got between her legs,
whispered in her ears, fondled her breasts and made
love to her. Moaned her name, told her how good it felt
doing what you were doing….”
“That’s not what happened,” he interjects.
“In my head that’s what happened. You made love to
another woman and cuddled her the whole night. If the
baby is really yours, they will be almost the same age. I
have never been pregnant before, this is my first baby,
and I have to get divided attention from you because
you are expecting another baby outside of our
relationship. Yet you don’t understand why I’m angry,
you don’t understand the depth of the scars you gave
me, and why this whole situation triggers me.”
“I get it,” he says.
“No, you don’t get it Xolani. You called my father and
said I’m disrespectful. But you didn’t call my father when
I supported you in your family battles, rallying behind
you and Robyn taking on MaMkhwanazi, not knowing
that something was happening. You didn’t call my father
when I changed my working shifts, from night to day, just
so I can be with you. Not when you were hospitalized
and I stayed here taking care of your daughter. When I
nursed you back to life after your injuries. When I stood
up for you against my own family. You didn’t call my
father to say anything.”
He exhales heavily, “Can I fix things?”
“How?” I ask.
“I don’t know, please tell me what I can do to make you
feel better. I have failed on my own, now I’m willing to
follow your lead, whatever you want to see happening
now.”
Phewwww!!!!
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 101
NOKUZOLA

I want to see her, it’s not something I have ever

dreamed of- dealing with a man’s other woman. But it
affects my relationship, so we need to sit down, all three
of us. When he called her earlier she said she’s in the
village and didn’t specify which village and why she was
there. Hopefully she will be back this afternoon, I want
us to talk and find a way forward.
Things aren’t okay in the house, there’s no lovey-dovey,
but the tension has dissolved since we had that talk last
night. I haven’t been in the right space of mind, I’m sure
Lwethu thinks I’m an evil aunt. That’s why I’m making
burgers and chips, we have a pool side date. I need to
show her that I’m not a monster, I just had a rough
couple of days.

Funnily, we are both pregnant. I take her as Xolani’s

daughter, being pregnant around the same time as his
daughter is insane. I take a jug of juice and ask her to
bring our burgers. She’s a sweet child and she looks like
a child, unlike Onathi. I don’t know how she fell
pregnant, she looks too innocent. She doesn’t talk a lot,
I don’t know if that’s how she naturally is or
circumstances makes her reverse true personality for
now.
“How is Thabiso?” I ask.
“He’s okay,” she says.
“Where is the smile?” I expect to see her blush when
hearing his name. Teenage love is like that. But she
looks sad, not in love.
“You’re still dating, right?”
“Yeah,” she nods.
“So what’s the problem?”
“He’s just going through a lot and I feel like I should
have considered his background before letting him…you
know do what,” she says.
“But he’s grown, he knew what was going to happen if
he didn’t use a condom. That’s not just on you, it takes
two to tango,” I say.
“Yeah, you’re right.” She eats her burger, relaxing a little
bit.
“Is your brother still angry at you?” I ask.
“I think he will never forgive me. Msindisi didn’t shout, he
just asked if the baby was fine and I was okay,” she
says.
“Msindisi must be your favorite,” I say.
She smiles, “All time favorite, Nzalo is the provider.”
I laugh, Nzalo wouldn’t like this.
We finish our meal and get in the pool. It’s hot, we
splash ourselves with water for almost half an hour.

When I get back in the house I have several missed

calls from Nale. I wonder what’s up; I call her back.
“Are you crazy?” she asks.
“I was in the pool, what’s up with so many calls?”
“I just saw Mbuzeni,” she says.
“So?” I’m confused.
She can’t call me so many times just to tell me about
Mbuzeni.
“He has a girlfriend, she was wearing heels and he had
an umbrella above her head,” she says.
“I don’t care about Mbuzeni. How is everyone at home?”
I ask.
“Shocked by Mbuzeni,” she says.
I laugh, “Unescefe yazi! You need to visit, I miss you.”
“Nzalo wanted me to come today but I have a lot to do
and I’m too exhausted to ask for permission from the
noodle-thieves,” she says.
“Who are those?” I can't keep up with all the things she
comes up with.
“Your parents,” she says.
I’m laughing, about to ask what happened, Xolani
arrives. I have to call her some other time, I drop the call
and turn my attention to the man of the house.
“I was free so I thought let me come home for lunch,” he
says.
“Okay,” I nod.
He looks around, I stand still, weirdly we steal glances at
each other.
He clears his throat, “Umh, I tried calling her again and
she said she will come here.”
“Okay,” I don’t have a problem, she’s been invited here
before, probably many times before me and more times
during me.
“Can I have something to eat?” he asks.
I frown, confused. Since when does he ask me for food?
He’s probably testing me, trying to figure out where I am,
emotionally.
“I will warm chicken curry leftovers,” I say, taking out the
bowl of chicken that I cooked the other day. He pulls the
chair and waits.
The food wasn’t good, I don’t know what it lacked but it
wasn’t just one ingredient. I warm it for him and serve
him with a glass of water.
He sits down and eats slowly. I hate seeing him down,
knowing that I’m the reason for it. Yes, his actions
provoked me but maybe I could’ve controlled my anger
a little bit. He hurts more than he should, I don’t know if
it’s because of how he grew up, he’s way too sensitive.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He looks at me, “You are sorry?”
“For the name calling and saying I don’t love you. I do
love you, if I didn’t I wouldn’t have came back here from
home,” I say.
“But you said you’re only here because you are
pregnant,” he says.
“Yeah, I wanted to hurt you,” I say.
“But that’s not fair. The way you talk to me, you
intentionally hurt me and put things in my head. Is this
how you’re always going to express yourself when
you’re angry?”
“It takes a lot to make me angry Xolani,” I say.
“I know but in a relationship things aren’t always sailing
smoothly. I can’t guarantee that I will never make you
angry…”
“Oh, you’re still going to cheat again?”
He sighs heavily, “No.”
“Cheating is what made me angry and out of control.
Other than those instances, when have you ever seen
me angry?” I ask.
“The first time I saw you,” he says.
I roll my eyes, “Really now? You were messing with
Nalenhle that time and you know that she’s off limits.
Just like you, I’d fight the same way if anyone messed
with you.”
“I hear you, but I don’t want to be insulted and yelled at
the way you do, even in front of the kids,” he says.
“Fine, I will try to express myself differently next time you
make me angry. But that doesn’t include cheating, if you
do something like this again I will leave, straight away.”
“It will never happen again, I learned my lesson,” he
says.
“Good. Should I give you some more?” I ask, he’s
almost done with his food.
“No, thanks. It’s really good though,” he says.
Wow, nobody has ever complimented my food before.
“I will cook again tonight,” I say.
His eyes widen. “Again?”
“Yes, again.” He said it’s good, so why not?
“No sthandwa sami, you know I don’t want you to
overwork yourself. We will eat out, I will make
reservations,” he says.
“Okay,” I know where I stand, he doesn’t like my food,
he just complimented because he didn’t have a choice.
.
.
.
MSINDISI

He completed his training and started working. It’s not

an environment he’s used to, especially because he has
to share a working space with three other individuals, he
was just allocated a desk in a corner instead of an actual
office. It’s his first week, and so far so good.
Jamal said he will pick him up after work, they’re going
out for drinks to celebrate him getting a job. Yes, he
didn’t earn it, Xolani got it for him, but they will celebrate
anyway.
He just got back home and took a quick shower, then
made a snack. A lot is going on back home, he wouldn’t
have had any time to himself if he had stayed. Lwethu is
pregnant, Xolani could have two babies coming at once,
and Nzalo is planning to get married. Everyone has
something going on, it’s chaotic.

Jamal calls, saying he’s on his street. He wraps

everything up and puts on a T-shirt. Because of work
he’s changed his wardrobe, Jamal made him buy
straight pants and formal shirts. Whenever he looks at
himself in the mirror he looks different. It’s after work
now, he can be himself.
He opens the door, Jamal walks in.
“These pants again,” he says.
Msindisi chuckles, “I’m not going to look like a priest
after work.”
“Do I look like a priest??” Jamal asks, he’s in a formal
shirt.
Msindisi looks at him, from head to toe. “You look goofy.”
“No, you look goofy,” Jamal says.
They look at each other, then burst into laughter.
.
.
.
Jamal’s house looks like his reality. It looks like the wife
died; nothing is organized. The couch covers are
traumatizing, whoever sold them to him hated him. Lord,
the curtains!
“Welcome,” Jamal says.
“Thanks,” he can’t keep his eyes off the interior design.
One word for it, horrible!
“Let’s get this party started,” Jamal takes off his shirt.
Msindisi walks up to his kitchen counter and organizes
his pots on the rack. A small pot can’t be under a big pot,
that’s bullshit.
“I was going to sort that out,” Jamal says.
“Right!” Msindisi mumbles, looking at his utensils.
This house will drive him crazy. How does Jamal live?
What kind of life is this? His wife must be turning in her
grave.
“Do you think you will get married again?”
Jamal is taken back by the question. “I don’t know,
why?”
“Because you need a wife, Jamal,” he says.
“Oh, you’re judging my home now?”
“It’s a beautiful home, you just need to organize better.
Do you need a hand?”
“No, I’m okay,” Jamal says.
“I would’ve came over the weekend and helped you get
organized and shop new couch covers and curtains for
you. I understand you’re not into bright colours, but
brown and black? It’s giving serial killer vibes,” he says.
This sends Jamal in a fit of laughter. What kind of
judgmental, offensive, insensitive statement is this?
“Are you serious?” He’s still laughing.
“Yes, I’m traumatized. Can we go to the backyard?
Otherwise I won’t drink, I will keep finding faults in
everything and being vocal about it?”
“You’re the most horrible guest I’ve ever had,” Jamal
says.
He shrugs, “Sorry, I’m just being honest.”
They take their drinks to the backyard and set the fire for
a braai. It promises to be a good Thursday, with a
couple of sexy girls the mood would be complete, except
that they don’t need girls. It’s just both of them and
they’re having so much fun, throwing jabs at each other,
laughing and drinking their evening away.
Msindisi’s phone rings, it’s Nzalo.
“Can you talk?” Nzalo asks.
Msindisi steps away, there’s some music making it hard
for Nzalo to hear him.
“Yes, we can talk,” he says.
“It’s Thursday, why does it sound like you’re in a club?”
Really now, he doesn’t want big brother’s authority from
a different province.
“I’m in Jamal’s house,” he says.
“Who is Jamal?” Nzalo asks.
“Jamal is babomncane’s friend, he invited me over for
drinks,” he says.
“Is he trustworthy?” Nzalo.
“Yes, why are you calling me?”
“Just checking up. That Jamal, is he married?”
“No,” he says.
“Can’t you find your own friends instead of old,
unmarried ones?”
“Bhuti, I will end this call,” he says.
Nzalo exhales heavily, “Okay, sorry. But please be
careful there, look after yourself and stay away from
older men.”
“Thanks for the advice, pass my regards to Nale.” He
drops the call.
Nzalo can be pain in the arse. Who said he’s going to
sleep with Jamal?
Jamal lifts his eyes, he notices the mood change.
“Is everything good?” he asks.
Msindisi shrugs, “Big brother’s call, you know how that
is.”
“No, I don’t have a brother,” Jamal says and turns his
back, checking the meat.
No, he’s not sexually attracted to Jamal. Nzalo needs to
chill. No, attraction whatsover.
Jamal turns and almost catches him staring. WTF is
wrong with him? Nzalo just warned him.

He refused to come to the pool with me, so I came

alone. Hopefully he’s calm down now, I’m tired of him
shouting at me for Lwethu’s doings.
I make my way back to our room and find him having
another drink. He puts it down when I walk in, there’s
remorse in his eyes.
“I didn’t want this to happen, ngiyaxolisa,” he says.
“What are you talking about?” I’m confused.
“Lwethu ruined my mood, I haven’t been able to even
enjoy being with you. I only have two days left, then you
will go back home and I will be alone again,” he says.
“But I will visit you njena,” I say, wrapping my arms
around his waist.
“It’s not the same, I’m lonely, so I want to make the most
out of this trip. Sex, cuddles and kisses. I won’t let
Lwethu distract me,” he says.
“Maybe you should report to Mr X and let him handle it,"
I say.
“Yeah, but he’s dealing with his own issues as well,” he
says.
“Like what? Zola’s pregnancy?” I ask.
“You will find out when Zola tells you. Whenever I tell
you something you always run to Zola,” he says.
“Only once. Is it something good or bad?” I’m curious.
“Both,” he says.
I wonder what the senior citizen has done again.
He picks his drink and sits on the bed while I dry myself
and get dressed.
He’s watching me with admiration.
“Did you ever consider modelling?” he asks.
“Yes, but I have a terrible walk and a bad smile.”
“You have a beautiful smile,” he says.
“I don’t have straight teeth, so don’t lie.”
He laughs, “We can get them straight.”
“Nah, I’m not interested, I’m used to it now.”
“But modelling could be better than vlogging. I mean, I’m
your only subscriber so far, Zola forgot to subscribe,
Msindisi said he hasn’t downloaded any apps yet.”
“Why are you so against my career?” I ask.
Every chance he gets, he throws jabs at it.
“I’m not against it, come here.” I get on the bed and lie
on his lap, facing up.
He kisses my lips right after taking a sip of Castle Lite.
“How is Msindisi doing?” I ask.
“He’s okay, training for a new job. I just hope no man
confuses him there,” he says.
I’m confused. Why would Msindisi be confused by men?
He takes a deep breath and gulps down the whole
glass. I have always felt like he’s keeping something
from me.
“What’s going on with Msindisi?”
“Nothing,” he says.
“I’m going to be your wife and you are…”
He sighs, “Msindisi slept with Musa.”
“In what manner?” I’m confused.
God please don’t let it be what I think!
“I don’t know the manner but they had sex.”
Oh fuck!
I thought they were just fake friends.
“I don’t know if he’s gay or bisexual or straight. Instead
of figuring it out with us, his family, and addressing the
level of his betrayal, he chose to run away. I’m worried
about him, Msindisi can be easily confused by anyone
who gives him attention.”
Well, I know that too well. I don’t know why this makes
me sad, Musa definitely took advantage of his
vulnerability and pain.
“Maybe being alone will help him figure it out. But do you
think he’s gay?” I ask.
“He grew up as a normal boy, interested in boy activities
and dressing up like a boy. And he’s always dated girls,
if he changes to boys it will definitely be because he
hasn’t had a good experience with girls,” he says.
“But I don’t think bad experiences can change a
person’s sexuality. If it was so I would’ve been a lesbian
way before you met me, all my relationships sucked.”
What’s making him smile? My heart was broken many
times.
“My ancestors were working overtime,” he brags.
“You overrate them.” My relationships were horrible
because I wasn’t a good girlfriend.
Umh no, they were bad boyfriends, none of it was my
fault.
“You had to kiss a few frogs before meeting your prince,”
he says.
I roll my eyes, smiling.
He’s right, they were all frogs.
.
.
.

NOKUZOLA

Xolani went somewhere yesterday and I have a strong

feeling that he was home and whatever he was there for
is the reason why my mom asked me to come today. I
go home when I’m free to, if I’m being instructed to by
my parents there’s definitely a problem. I’m a bit
annoyed, I feel like Xolani could’ve given me an idea,
not do things behind my back.
I just hope it’s nothing bad. I had a good week, I don’t
need anything to ruin it on the last day. I can’t go home
empty handed regardless of how recent I went, so I pass
by the shops and buy my mother’s scones ingredients
and fruits.
I can’t drive to work from home like last week, I will go
back to Tongaat today. It’s still early, if I leave by 3pm I
will be fine. This is my new car, unfortunately Nale is not
home to see it. But I know my mom will celebrate when
she sees it.
I drive in the yard and park in front of the main house.
My mom comes out, “Usufikile.”
“Yeah, I’m tired as hell.” I take out the two shopping
bags, she helps me with them.
For some reason she’s pretending not to notice my car. I
told her about it and she couldn’t wait to see it, however
now she looks unimpressed.

Thami is not home, as always. Dad is watching TV, I

greet and join him.
“Are you hungry?” mom asks.
“No, I’m fine,” I say.
“Okay, I will just bring tea.”
I’m curious, they both look distant, avoiding eye contact
with me.
The tea comes, they switch off the TV and help each
other with cups.
I’m not in the mood for tea, I wait for them to tell me why
I’m here.
“Unjani umkhwenyana?” mom asks.
“Xolani is fine.” He was here yesterday mos.
She heaves a deep sigh, “There’s something we need to
talk about.”
“Okay,” I don’t know why I’m nervous.
“Umkhwenyana came here yesterday, accompanied by
his cousin to tell us that he made someone else
pregnant,” she says.
I’m confused. Maybe this is a prank.
“I know this will hurt you and make you doubt your place
in his heart. But him coming here to report himself
means that he’s remorseful.” It’s serious, she’s not
laughing.
My dad hardly looks sorry for me, when I see the look on
his face it becomes real.
“I don’t understand.” My chest is tight, there’s a lump
stuck on my throat.
“He said it’s the same woman you two fought about, he’s
not sure about the paternity so he requested DNA tests
once the baby is born. But right now the mother is in
town and she’s not well and he has to take the
responsibility she says is his.”
“Ma are you serious?” Oh my god, who did I do wrong?
I was starting to be okay with it; I was moving on.
“Don’t cry,” she comes to sit next to me.
“He’s devastated as well, you only have to wait until she
gives birth to know if he’s really the father, until then
focus on your man and growing baby.” It’s not easy as
she says it.
Robyn didn’t happen before we got together, he cheated
on me.
“Xolani hates me, ma,” I’m convinced he does.
He admitted to cheating but assured me that he used a
condom. Now this? How do I ever get over this?
“He made a mistake and you had already forgiven him,
this is just a battle you have to face together. And
whatever the outcome is, you have to support him,” she
says.
Dad clears his throat, “Do you need water?”
I nod.
He fetches a glass from the kitchen.
He gives it to me and sits. “Don’t burden yourself
supporting him, focus on yourself and deal with
whatever you’re feeling. He’s an old man, he can take
care of himself.”
My head is spinning. What makes everything worse is
the fact that I’m pregnant for him as well, even if I
wanted to remove myself from him, we have this little
human being to share forever.
.
.
.

When it happened I was angry, with these new

developments coming out now I’m hurt. Really, really
hurt. Xolani had no child when I got in a relationship with
him, now half way through children are popping out,
each with a different mother. I carried myself with grace,
I took care of myself, I respected my body and protected
my heart. I took a risk and trusted him with my heart,
and I have been hurt more than I’ve ever been hurt by
any man.
My parents didn’t want me to come back because I’m
driving but I told them I’d be fine. And I have made it
back safely. I have my pies from the garage, I walk in
and start in the kitchen to warm them.
I hear footsteps and don’t bother turning around. He
stands behind and doesn’t say anything. I wash my
hands and get a plate. The microwave stops, I take
them out and pull a chair.
“Nokuzola,” he calls my name.
The devil calls my fuckin’ name!
My appetite just disappears, I push away the plate.
“You look so hurt,” he says.
How else would I be? Happy?
“You lied again and said you used a condom.”
“If I didn’t I wouldn’t ask for a DNA test. On top of that I
wasn’t the only man she was sleeping with, that same
day she had been with someone else.”
That makes it even more disgusting.
“Was she that hard to resist that you had to swim in
another man’s sperms?” I’m so glad he didn’t touch me
when he came back, I’m allergic to amanyala.
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the baby I’m carrying,
just know that. I’m only here because I’m pregnant, not
because my heart is still here.”
His jaw tightens, he inhales sharply. I know that went
straight to the heart.
“I don’t care for anything, as long as you take care of my
needs, you can even go and stay with her so that you
can nurse her back to life.” I put the pies back in the
microwave, I will eat them later.
He doesn’t say anything back, which is good for him. I
leave him on the kitchen chair and go upstairs.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 98
NOKUZOLA

It’s been over an hour, he’s sitting on the edge of the

bed, I don’t know if he plans to sleep sitting or he has
other plans. I’m watching Nale’s “traveling” videos, I
have nothing more to say to Xolani. I hope he never
makes any mistake and talk to me about Robyn and her
baby. I will never coexist with that woman or anything
that has her blood running through the veins.
“Nokuzola,” he says, clearing his throat.
I look at him, he’s still fully dressed.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing,” I say.
He exhales heavily, “Please help me, I will do whatever
you want.”
“Xolani, I don’t want you to do anything other than taking
care of our baby once he or she arrives,” I say.
He stays quiet, I go back to my phone.
He opens his mouth again, “If I meet her, can I go with
you?”
“With me? Ngingenaphi mina?” I have nothing to meet
Robyn for, I’m not even curious about their
conversations. They have had many behind my back,
God knows for how long. They must continue how they
started.
“I don’t want to do things behind your back,” he says.
Wait a minute…
“Didn’t you sleep with her behind my back?”
He looks away and keeps quiet. Exactly!
I don’t want to be stressed by things I was never a part
of from the beginning.
“Is it okay if I give her a sum of money that can help her
with whatever she needs until she gives birth?” he asks.
“It’s your money, ngingenaphi mina Xolani?”
“You’re my fiance, I have to get your permission,” he
says.
“You didn’t ask for my permission to sleep with her.
Ngomoya wesonto Xolani, I beg you to leave me alone.”
I want to sleep, how he deals with Robyn is his own
business.
“Can I also sleep?” he asks.
I keep quiet, I don’t want any fake respect. Xolani needs
no permission to do anything from me, if he did we
wouldn’t be here.

His phone rings, he answers. It sounds like there’s a

problem with Purity, which is Lwethu, Nzalo is livid on
the other side. Whatever that is, it’s bad. But nothing
concerns Nokuzola in this family.
He wants to talk about it, he keeps exclaiming in
disbelief hoping I will ask what’s wrong.
“Nokuzola,” he says.
I lazily shift my eyes to him.
“Do you want me to go to the guest bedroom?”
“Leave me alone,” I cover my head.
I don’t know why he keeps asking me stupid questions.
It takes him about five minutes to leave the room, I
guess he’s decided not to share the room with me. He
makes me mad, then gets scared of witnessing the
outcome of my emotions that he's riled up.
I get up and follow him. He’s preparing the bed in the
guest bedroom.
“Is this where we sleep now?” I ask.
“But I asked and you told me to leave.”
“To leave me alone and not talk to me. That doesn’t
mean leave me alone in bed, pregnant and heartbroken
because of you,” I say.
“Okay, ngiyaxolisa.” He puts the pillow down and follows
me back to our bedroom.
I get in bed and cover my head.
.
.
.

I called for Zanele, she’s a colleague living closeby, I

asked her to pick me up on her way to work. I have
packed my lunch, I just need to eat something quickly
before she arrives.
“Morning,” the voice says.
My appetite vanishes but I force down more spoons of
yogurt for my baby’s sake.
“There’s a car outside, are you expecting anyone?” he
asks.
“Oh, it must be Zanele, I asked for a lift.” I take my bag
and my safety gloves.
“You have a car, Nokuzola,” he says.
“A bribe? No thanks, take it back or give it to Robyn.”
“That’s not true, I bought the car way before I discovered
that she is…” He doesn’t say it, I’m glaring at him.
“Whenever you’re angry uyadikila, you know how that
makes me feel. I do everything out of love.”
“Sorry I’m hurting your important feelings,” I say and
head to the door.
He calls my name, I ignore and walk out.
.
.
.

Zanele and I work together, I can’t say we are friends

but we are close. She’s married with two kids, I’m sure
she knows this life better than me.
“Tough morning, huh?” she says.
I release a sigh. “Don’t even ask.”
“What happened, you just got a Mercedes Benz after
lobola, this should be your first honeymoon phase,” she
says.
“Not when men can’t keep their zips close,” I say.
“Girl, usekugilile already? I have been there, I didn’t
think I’d ever forgive and heal. Who is she?” she asks.
“Some half-breed whore, yazini I don’t even want to
entertain his explanations. I just regret forgiving him in
the first place,” I say.
“Uzothini girl, you love him and you’re pregnant. Is she
still in the picture?”
“It’s complicated, all I know is that I don’t have energy or
time to entertain all this.”
“No, address the problem, don’t let it slide. Otherwise
similar issues will keep rising in the future, he must know
where you stand, how you feel, and do exactly what you
want.”
“I’m tired, Zanele!” I really have no strength, I have
talked about Robyn for almost half of our journey.
“What do you want to do to feel better?” she asks.
“Go out, be away from him and forget about my
problems for a couple of hours.” I don’t drink, hence I
never go out unless I’m out for dinner or lunch, but this
time I want to go out and do something crazy, even if it’s
not drinking.
“Hubby comes home 7:30pm today, I will ask my nanny
if she can hold the reigns until 7pm, I will drive her
home,” she says.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“We will decide after work,” she says.
I can’t wait!
.
.
.

XOLANI HADEBE

Nzalo called and said they’re cutting their trip short.

Lwethu is pregnant, nobody could’ve seen this one
coming. It’s disappointing but he doesn’t have a close
relationship with Lwethu to speak on her character. They
are back with her, Nzalo drove Nale home first and then
came back. Xolani hasn’t seen Lwethu, whom he refers
to as Purity, for quite some time.
Nzalo is angry, he was spitting fire yesterday on the call.
But it’s possible that all this is happening because
Lwethu’s mother passed on when she was little. As
disappointed as he is, Xolani still feels some sympathy
for her. She’s a baby herself, how is she going to take
care of the baby?
“What happened?” he asks.
“She got pregnant babomncane, that’s what
happened,"- Nzalo.
“Come here Purity,” Xolani pulls the chair.
Lwethu sits, her eyes dropped. Nzalo goes to the
kitchen to get himself something to drink.
“Who did this?” Xolani asks.
“Thabiso,” she says.
“From where?”
“Umlazi,” she says.
Knowing that it’s not someone from far is relieving.
“Why Purity? You have to complete your studies, if he
loves you he would’ve waited for you.”
She doesn’t answer; she’s tearing up.
“Did he tell his parents?” Xolani asks.
She shakes her head, “He’s scared.”
Nzalo walks back in. “I gave him one week to tell his
parents to come here.”
“That’s not how things are done, if Purity is pregnant it
means someone has to go with her to Umlazi to notify
the boy’s family,” Xolani says.
“Then who will go? I haven’t paid one cow for Nalenhle,
she can’t carry duties of a Hadebe woman. Lwethu
knows the situation at home, we don’t have anyone.”
Xolani sighs heavily, “I don’t know, her aunt and I are not
even on good terms right now, I wouldn’t know how to
ask her to do something like this.”
“Unfortunately, she’s the only woman we have in the
family, at least she’s a fiance, she can act on behalf of
Hadebe women,” Nzalo says.
Lwethu starts sobbing as the conversation gets deeper.
She didn’t think all this would be necessary. She had
different plans with Thabiso.
“Don’t cry, everything will be fine,” Xolani rubs her back.
Nzalo has had it with her tears; he’s not bothered
anymore. He’s hard to be around when he’s angry,
maybe it will be better for Lwethu to stay over here
because she’s already feeling the heat.
“Ma would have been very disappointed,” Nzalo.
“Okay, enough! Purity go and ask aunty to make you
something to eat,” Xolani says.
.
.
.

Well, it’s been over two hours since Nokuzola left work,
yet she’s still not home. He didn’t want to call, thinking
maybe he started at the shops and grabbed something
to eat. But no, it’s getting late and he’s becoming more
worried.
He calls, it rings unanswered. He tries again, same fate.
Nokuzola is now using this situation to get out of
character. He looks through his contacts and finds New
Universe’s general manager’s number. He calls and
finds out that all workers left on time. After a couple
more calls he finds out that Nokuzola left with the same
lady that picked her up in the morning. Her friend has
always been Nale, it looks like Nale’s absence is going
to invite unnecessary people into their lives.
Lwethu joins him in the dining room for dinner and later
goes to bed, without meeting Nokuzola. His temperature
is rising, even his wristwatch feels heavy. He takes it off
and pours cold water in a glass. It’s past 7pm now and
this woman is still not home, and not picking his calls.

The gate opens, he curses and goes to the door. It’s her,
phewww.
He almost lost his shit. Anything could’ve happened to
her and she didn’t even bother communicating.
“Uphumaphi?” he asks.
Zola walks past him and doesn’t answer.
Yes, he understands that she’s angry but they cannot
live like this. He follows her up to their bedroom, she’s
not bothered by any of his questions.
“Nokuzola, I’m talking to you,” he says.
“I went out with Zanele. Did I leave with your kidneys?”
He exhales heavily, “I asked what you want us to do, I’m
open to anything, and you refused. You just want to
insult me and stomp your feet on me like a dirty, old
rug.”
“You are a dirty, old rug,” she says.
“Nokuzola don’t disrespect me like this,” his voice
trembles.
“Or what? Do your worse Xolani, you’re good at it
anyway.”
He walks out, his chest pounding.

But he only needed a few minutes to breathe, he comes

back, Zola is getting ready for a bath.
“I was worried sick, you’re pregnant Nokuzola. Your
parents know that you are in my house, if anything
happens to you I will be asked questions,” he says
calmly, hoping she will understand where his frustration
came from.
“I’m an adult, I can take care of myself,” she says.
“Okay,” he says, taking out a deep breath.
She wraps her head with a scarf and charges her
phone.
“Purity is here,” he says.
“Oh, okay,” she says.
“She’s pregnant, the boy responsible is from Umlazi. I
don’t know if you can help us and go with her to report
the pregnancy,” he says.
“No!" she refuses, without any second thought.
“I know that you’re not happy with what my past has
brought up but I wouldn’t ask you if there was another
option, she has to do this and go back to university.”
“Go with her or ask Robyn,” she says.
“Robyn is a nobody in this family, I’m asking you as…”
“As a what, Xolani? You have a mouth, take her and go
to Umlazi, then open the mouth that God gave you and
report the pregnancy. I’m not going to be a recognized
female figure only when it benefits you, then when it
doesn’t you leave me here and go…”
He walks out and slams the door while she’s talking.
“Bustard!” she curses alone.
No, she’s going to do it.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 99
They don’t know shit about this, but there was no time to
reach out to long distant relatives who would’ve probably
spread around the news and gossiped about Lwethu
nonstop. Nzalo didn’t want to come, he wants to
distance himself from this pregnancy, however this is his
little sister by blood and she has no one beside him.
Xolani came with them as an elder but he also has no
idea what they’re supposed to do.

They were supposed to arrive by dawn but both of them

had business meetings to go through in the morning, so
it’s during the day. They arrive at Umlazi where
Thabiso’s grandmother lives with his mom. Lwethu is
behind them, wearing a big fur jacket, embarrassed and
scared.
The door opens after they knock twice, the lady must be
Thabiso’s mother.
She looks confused.
“Hello, can I help?” she asks.
Nzalo looks at his uncle, Xolani is still trying to
remember the line they’re supposed to say.
“You’re Thabiso’s mom, right?” Nzalo.
“Yes, I am. Is my son alright?” She’s confused and
frightened, thinking it’s people from university here to
deliver bad news.
“Well, your son fucked my sister up,” he says.
The woman frowns, “I’m confused, can you come
inside?”

They all walk in, following her to the lounge where an

elder woman, the grandmother, is sitting with balls of
cotton wool, creating some art work with her hands. She
adjusts her eyeglasses, looking at the people walking in.
“Can you introduce yourselves first?” says the mother.
“I’m Lwethu’s sister and this is her uncle, and we are
here to tell you that your son fucked up,” Nzalo.
They look at Lwethu, her bump is already visible.
“Thabiso did this?” the mother is shocked.
Lwethu drops her eyes and nods, shamefully.
“Call Thabiso right now, what is this?” the grandmother
exclaims.
Thabiso is called and put on loudspeaker. He starts
apologizing to his mother right away, his mother is livid.
“You are only 17, Thabiso. You know the situation you
left here and you go and make a baby. Who do you think
is going to look after it? Your father left and never looked
back. Ungilethela usizi phezu kolunye!” She’s close to
tears.
Thabiso keeps apologizing on the other side; he sounds
scared and really remorseful.
“That boy mustn’t cry, I found him naked in her
apartment, they’ve been cohabiting for months. He
fucked my sister up, messing with her future,” Nzalo.
Xolani whispers, telling him to calm down. They’re here
to find a way forward, not to point fingers, both of them
are teenagers, neither can be blamed.
“Can we talk about the baby?” Xolani says.
Thabiso’s mom is already crying, she looks heavily
burdened.
“I can’t say anything about the baby, I can’t even take
care of Thabiso. I’ve been trying to raise money for his
cosmetics for the last two weeks, how can I afford milk
and diapers? His father never did anything for him, we
don’t even know where he lives.”
“Kuyezwakala sisi, don’t cry. We are not here to make
demands or point fingers. As you can see, Lwethu only
has male figures in her life, so we’d really appreciate
help, any help that we can get.”
“How far is she?” the grandmother asks.
They all look at Lwethu.
She’s counting with her fingers. Nzalo shakes his head
in despair.
“13 weeks,” she says.
“So 13 weeks ago you didn’t know anything about
condoms Olwethu?”
“Nzalokayise!” Xolani gives him a look.
Lwethu knows that she fucked up, she’s been told many
times.
“Have you started clinic?” the mom asks.
Lwethu shakes her head, she was scared of Nzalo
finding out.
“Do you need someone to go with you?” the mom asks.
“Don’t worry about that, it will be sorted from our side,”
Xolani says.
It’s his brother’s child, he won’t let her go to public clinics
and stand long queues. They exchange contacts, they
cannot stress Thabiso’s mother more, it would’ve been
better if they found his father.

Lwethu spends some time privately with the

grandmother, answering a few questions. By God’s
grace it all went well, Thabiso didn’t deny anything, that
gives a bit relief.
They wait for her in the car, reviewing the whole
encounter.
“Kids really don’t think,” Xolani sighs heavily.
“They’re already struggling and this boy decides to be
irresponsible. Who is going to play his role as a father?”
Nzalo.
Xolani chuckles, “Not just a father role, a mother’s role
as well. Lwethu has to complete her studies.”
“She has to figure it out,” Nzalo says.
“I don’t think she will, this is why it’s unfair for God to
take mothers. If Thobile was alive she would’ve known
what to do,” – Xolani.
“I know,” Nzalo exhales heavily. Lwethu really fucked up
everyone’s life!
.
.
.

Oh, Zola is home.

This is surprising because she left for work in the
morning and it’s not even 2pm now. She’s in a place she
doesn’t like that much, cooking. Well, she’s cooked
before but it was only for her and Onathi.
Nzalo greets and gets a response. But it’s cold, he can
read between the lines, she’s going through a lot. She
refused to go with Lwethu, obviously she wouldn’t be
interested in an update. Nzalo gets a drink, Lwethu goes
to the bedroom to take a nap.
A few minutes later they’re watching soccer highlights,
Zola comes in.
The food is ready, she serves Nzalo in hand then takes
another plate to Lwethu’s room. The food looks funny
but he hasn’t eaten anything since his morning meeting.
He eats and then lifts his eyes to his uncle.
“Hawu babomncane, you didn’t get the food?”
“Don’t worry,” Xolani says and attentively watches the
TV.
There’s tension and it’s rising. Nzalo leaves as soon as
he finishes his rice and chicken.

Nothing comes for Xolani, his appetite vanishes, he

heads to the bedroom and freshens up.
Zola comes to the bedroom with a thick book and sits on
the bed, reading it. She’s never been a reader, Zanele
gave her this copy to keep herself distracted. It’s a good
romance book, she’s falling in love with the male
protagonist.
“Nokuzola,”
Jeez! She’s in the middle of a scene.
What’s up with this man now?
“I don’t want you to disrespect me in front of the kids,”
he says.
She’s confused because they haven’t talked since he
got home.
“Okay,” she says and drops her eyes back to the book.
“Nokuzola,” him again.
She exhales gently and looks up.
“Please don’t disrespect me in front of the kids. You can
spit on my face and call me every name under the sun, if
that’s what makes you happy kulungile. But don’t do it in
front of people, I may not deserve your respect but I
deserve their respect.”
“I said okay,” she says.
For a minute he looks at her, not even blinking.
“It’s better to say you don’t love me then to do all this,”
he says.
“I don’t love you,” she says.
He nods, slowly. Zola goes back to her book.
He grabs his phone and walks out.

His stomach led him to the kitchen, he ignores Zola’s

pots and warms sausages, then fries frozen chips. He’s
angry; his hands keep shaking, he’s flapping his eyes
every now and then. He always controls his emotions
and nobody ever pushes him off his limits the way
Nokuzola does. She doesn’t just push buttons, she pulls
down the whole switch.
He sets his lunch and sits down.
Zola appears like a ghost, she opens the tap to wash
her hands.
She joins him and eats from his plate. His chest starts
pounding. It’s not even about the food, but how she
keeps provoking and disrespecting him.
She’s eating faster than him, he keeps quiet.
Lwethu walks in, bringing her plate to the kitchen.
“Hey, here is the sausage,” Zola offers.
Lwethu smiles politely, “Thanks, I’m full.”
“No problem,” she eats it herself.
Then she gets up and stirs sugar with icy cold water.
Lwethu leaves, he waits until she disappears.
“Nokuzola, I asked you to stop disrespecting me in front
of the kids,” he says.
“When did I disrespect you?” she asks and starts singing
before he can give a response.
This is it, he can’t handle this anymore. He reported
himself to her family, as quick as he could. He didn’t
keep anything in the dark. He told her nothing but the
truth. The whole truth!
Thabethe’s phone rings a couple of times before he
answers.
“Thabethe, it’s me,” he’s outside, Zola is in the kitchen
singing.
“Hadebe, how can I help you?” Thabethe asks.
“Nokuzola is disrespecting me, from sunrise to sunset. I
have talked to her several times, asking her to stop, I
have reached my limit,” he says.
“I don’t know Nokuzola like that. When you asked her to
go out with you, was she disrespectful?” Thabethe asks.
“No,” he says with a deep sigh.
“Then I’m vindicated, I raised a humble daughter and in
my house she’s never disrespected anyone. I’m not
going to take responsibility for that, you know what you
did for her to act like that.”
“I’m asking you to talk to her as her father,” he says.
“I’m not going to fight your battles Hadebe, I already did
you a favor by delivering your scandals to her. If she’s
there she’s your fiance, I will deal with her if she
disrespects people in my house.”
“Okay,” he should’ve known this would be said.
Families side with those they share blood with.

He walks back in the kitchen, Zola is still sipping her

sugar water, unbothered.
He stands, his eyes burning and blazing with anger.
“You have to stop acting childish,” he says.
“I’m acting my age, Xolani,” she says.
“Deliberately hurting someone who’s not fighting you is
not how people your age act. I’m hurting Nokuzola, and I
know if we keep going like this it’s going to take a toll on
me. I want to be able to wake up every morning and go
to work. I have a lot of people depending on me to put
bread on the table,” he says.
“How does this concern your employees?” she asks.
“It doesn’t but if I lose my life right now….”
She breaks into laughter. This is not the direction she
expected this to take. Who kills themselves over
sausages and fries?
“Please don’t say it will be because of me. I didn’t send
you to be a player with a 43 year old heart. Leave the
game for fresh blood, people who are smart, with
healthy organs that won’t collapse anytime shit hits the
fan. That woman is coming for you and everything that
you have. She knows everything about you, doesn’t
she? You will support that baby even if it’s not yours,
otherwise all your secrets are out. That’s what going to
kill you, not Nokuzola.”
His hand balances on the counter, his jaw twitches.
“I’m the least of your problems Xolani Hadebe, let me
sing in peace and stop bothering my parents. They are
my parents, not yours.”
He just keeps breathing…

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 102
NOKUZOLA

Xolani asked Nzalo to keep Lwethu for a day, she’s

going back to Mpumalanga on Monday. He doesn’t want
her to know that he’s not an honest man, he goes
around fucking crazy women irresponsibly. Yes, he says
he’s always used a condom with her, but I don’t think if
he was careful as he claims he was, Robyn would be
pinning her pregnancy on him. She will be here any time
from now and he’s restless. He can’t sit still, he keeps
drinking water and going to the balcony for fresh air. I
hate being in this position, I have never thought of
myself facing my man’s other woman and discussing her
pregnancy.
He walks back in, “I will open for her.”
Well, she’s here. The families and all our close friends
already know that he cheated on me, I’m already the “he
comes back home to me” woman. I hear her heels
clicking and lift my eyes. Didn’t she say she’s sick? A
sick, pregnant woman wouldn’t wear a pink fur coat and
big sunglasses, like she’s going to Durban July. I feel
small, he looks good next to her. She’s almost his size,
they would have made a good couple, she would’ve
fitted in to those fancy business events with him.
He walks around and sits next to me, holding my hand.
She remains on her feet, chewing a gum.
“You can sit,” he says.
She sits, throwing one leg over the other and carefully
placing her Gucci purse on her lap. Then finally, she
takes off the sunglasses. Only now I notice how worn-
out she actually looks. It looks like she’s seen a couple
of rough days but her confidence is still high.
“Nokuzola asked to see you,” Xolani says.
I can sense from here, he’s nervous.
Robyn flashes a smile at me, “Baby girl.”
Her tone is undermining, I’m getting irritated but I will
control myself.
“Why didn’t you tell him as soon as you found out that
you’re pregnant?” I ask.
“Did you tell him right away?” she asks.
I’m confused. I look at Xolani, was he talking to her
about me?
“I needed to let it sink in and make a decision whether I
was getting rid of it or not, and I decided not to,” she
says.
“Xolani says it’s not his child, he used a condom,” I say.
“And you still believe everything he says? Didn’t he say
he was just a friend to me?”
His hand leaves mine. “Robyn, we used a condom,” he
says, firmly.
“And I still fell pregnant, probably because of your
intense cuddling after sex,” he says.
I know the intense cuddling, I hate this. I thought he did
that because he loves me and appreciates me for the
good sex, but it turns out he does it to everyone.
“That’s not true, I took a shower and dressed up. This is
not my baby, you know what you are doing and I’m
disappointed in you. I have done a lot for you, Robyn.”
That gets to her, she looks away shamefully. Now I
wonder what he’s done for her.
“Yes, we did what we did, but I considered you a friend
and thought you’d be happy when my dreams start
coming true. I didn’t know you will be the one trying to
destroy me.”
Well, it serves him right.
I’m angry about it but also happy that Robyn is now
showing him flames. I was the insecure, dramatic one
when I asked him to draw the line in their so-called
friendship.
“You don’t love me, we both know that. I’d understand if
you were an ex-girlfriend but you were nothing,” he
says.
“I was nothing?” She’s offended.
“We were friends and we worked together. But I only
liked you for your intelligence and trustworthy. I don’t
want to have a baby with you, if I did I would’ve asked
when we were both single and free,” he says.
“So you don’t want this baby? Is that what you’re
saying?”
He takes a deep breath, “If it’s my baby we will take
responsibility.”
She looks at me, as if she expects me to disagree with
Xolani.
“I heard that you’re sick,” I say.
“Yes, I went to the village to see a traditional doctor.”
Oh, what a surprise!
“You believe in traditional doctors?” I wouldn’t have
expected it, she’s not black and she wasn’t raised in a
village where such belief is popular.
“No, but a good friend of mine convinced me to go and
I’m feeling a lot better,” she says.
This story lacks spices like my chicken curry. I hope she
didn’t go there to bewitch Xolani.
“You’re pregnant and visiting traditional doctors?” he
asks.
“For my own health,” she says, defensively.
“Why wasn’t I informed about it? You asked for my
financial help regarding your health during the
pregnancy and for some reason you didn’t tell me about
your visit to a traditional doctor. Who paid?”
“I paid, I’m not flat broke, and you told me you have to
ask her before helping me,” she says.
“Next time you do such thing, let me know first since you
insist that you’re carrying a Hadebe blood,” he says.
“No problem. Are we done?”
“No, I called you here, not him.”
She raises her eyebrow, “Okay.”
“I spoke to Winnie,” I say.
They’re both shocked.
Yes, I called Winnie.
“She’s on her way, hopefully you will remember the
name of the guard you slept with before Xolani. She will
then provide us with his contacts so that he can also test
if the baby is not his. Obviously I don’t like you, but I will
always help a fellow woman, especially if there’s an
innocent soul involved,” I say.
“Winnie and I don’t get along, and I don’t want to see
her.” She gets up, her sunglasses fall to the floor, she
almost steps on them.
“She has moved on, sit down,” I say.
“No, I’m not waiting for Winnie.” She’s really running
away.
Why doesn’t she want Winnie to help her solve the
mystery?
“The gate is locked, sit down,” Xolani says.
She blinks rapidly, her cheeks turn pink immediately.
“Are you holding me hostage now?” she asks.
I stand up and help her sit down, putting her expensive
purse on a safe spot.
“Winnie is a member of this family, she shares a child
with Xolani too, non-biologically. She’s only trying to
help, let me check how far she is.” I felt bad calling her
only because I needed her help, we haven’t been
supporting her with her case because we have to
support Nzalo. So the family card I’m playing only gets
valid when it suits me.

Well, she’s already here. I haven’t seen her since dinner

but Onathi spends time with her from time to time.
“Is the bitch here already?” she asks, walking in.
“Yes, please don’t confront her about the past.” I don’t
want this to turn into something chaotic.
I lead her in, Robyn is back on her feet looking shaken.
“Old friend,” Winnie says.
“Come this side,” I don’t want them to be next to each
other. Robyn is pregnant but I don’t trust her, she looks
like the type that kicks ass. Winnie is also capable of
dark things, she cannot be trusted.
“Was it William, Sboniso or Mbuzeni?” she asks.
Robyn dear, are you still breathing? She looks scared of
Winnie.
“I don’t have time, which one was it?” Winnie.
Seriously? We are trying to help her here, she needs to
say the name.
“The first one,” she says.
“William was with me the whole time. Are you sure?
Let’s just call them all.” Winnie takes out her phone and
scrolls down her contacts.
“Xolani!” Robyn screams, holding her belly.
And then???
“Cramps! I’m dying,” she says.
This is ridiculous. Now she’s getting cramps because we
are trying to get hold of the second baby daddy.
Xolani stands up, confused. She starts making noise, it’s
going to be hard to make phone calls.
“I need to go to my doctor, now!" she says.
Xolani looks at me, “I will open the gate.”
I feel played, now more than ever I’m convinced that
Robyn is lying about the baby’s paternity. She knows the
real father, it’s either she wants Xolani’s money or she
wants to destroy our relationship. It could be both, I’m
mad.
Winnie gives the phone numbers to me, she couldn’t
keep the guards after MaMkhwanazi got caught, her
lifestyle changed. These men are either unemployed
right now or working for someone else. I don’t think
Robyn would just sleep with a man without protection
and not have their numbers.

“Should I get you a drink?” I ask Winnie.

“Please, I need it.” She hates Robyn.
Xolani comes back and avoids us. Good for him!
“I guess you trusted her the way I did,” she says.
“I trusted Xolani, not her,” I say.
“Lesson learned, I pray it’s not his, for your sake. She’s
a snake, a very cunning bitter one. You need to contact
Sboniso and Mbuzeni, it’s between them,” she says.
“It’s Xolani’s problem, he will be the one calling them,
thank you very much.” We didn’t agree on this but he
told me to take lead, and promised to follow.
“How is everything going with you?” I ask.
“I have a court appearance next week, other than that
I’m good,” she says.
“I have been going through a lot, Onathi knows.” I feel
guilty for the lack of communication.
“No problem, deal with what you have to deal with,” she
says.
She stays for half an hour, I make us snacks and we
chat, getting to know each other more. She’s in a
relationship, Musa has not even received her sentence
yet. I guess the man was already in the picture. Xolani
has disappeared, I walk her out and promise to
communicate more. We are both mother figures to
Onathi, we should communicate anyway.
.
.
.

I look for Xolani and find him hiding in the bedroom. I

have the numbers, he needs to call and find out if any of
these two men were informed about the pregnancy.
“Hey,” I sit next to him.
“I didn’t see this gang-up coming.”
“Gang-up?” I’m confused.
“You should have told me that Winnie is coming.”
“Oh that, it was me doing my leader things. I have
numbers here, between these two men one is a possible
babydaddy, just like you. You have to call them and ask
if they have been told anything.”
“You want me to call them and say what? Nokuzola
udlala ngami ke manje. If I’m not the father then I have
no business knowing who the father could be,” he says.
“If you are not, will she pay you back all the money
you’re going to help her with until she gives birth?”
Robyn is not working, yet she’s driving a car and
carrying Gucci purses and wearing fur coats. She wants
to be maintained, that’s why she says she’s sick.
“So I should hunt down every other man she slept with?”
he asks.
“Doesn’t it bother you that you have a child in college, a
pregnant fiance and outstanding lobola to pay, then a
wedding to plan and household to maintain?” I know he
has money but if not spent wisely, his pockets will crack.
“You want to maintain another pregnant woman,
knowing very well that she could be lying?”
“This whole thing stresses me,” he says, lying on his
back with a heavy sigh.
It serves him right. It’s the consequences of Hluhluwe’s
intense cuddling, I was a fool when I told him to stay
away from Robyn.
“I will call them, I don’t mind.” I take his phone and copy
Mbuzeni’s number first, then call.
It rings unanswered on my first attempt. I try again, he
answers.
“Who is this?” he asks.
Where do I know this voice from?
“My name is Nokuzola Thabethe. Is that Mbuzeni who
worked for Winnie as a bodyguard?” I ask.
“Zola? Hhayi-bo are you serious?” he asks.
“Yes,” I’m confused.
“I knew this was going to happen one day, it was meant
to be. Where are you? Just say the place and I will be
there.”
“Mbuzeni?” Is this the Mbuzeni I know?
It can’t be. I hate Mbuzeni, why out of all Mbuzenis must
I call his number? He takes everything as a yes, that I
want to be with him.
Xolani lifts his head, he can hear the conversation and
his eyes are already blazing with anger.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 103
NALENHLE

Nzalo wants me to visit him and I already used the

money he sent the first time. Some of it, now it’s not
enough for me to go to Tongaat. I miss him but we were
together not so long ago. I was allowed to go to
Mpumalanga with him for the whole weekend. Obviously
I’m going to answer a lot of questions if I ask to visit him
again. This is the only part I hate about being home,
there’s no freedom.
He calls again, as he promised.
“How did the meeting go?” I ask.
“It went well. What are you busy with?”
“I’m cleaning the yard,” I say.
“Do you ever chill when you’re home? You need to come
and take a breather in my house for a couple of days. I
will give you good massage and spoil you rotten.”
“Fak’ imali ke,” I say.
“What happened to the money I sent earlier this week?”
“Bank charges,” I say.
“Which bank Nale? Udlala ngami wena, please promise
me that you will come for real this time,” he says.
“I will come, I promise,” I say.
“If you don’t come I will be showing up.”
“Don’t worry, I will come.”
“I will make a transfer, please send me your recent
pictures.”
Oh my goodness, he’s really lonely.
“Selfies?” I ask.
“Any picture of you, I miss you.”
“Okay, I will send them on Whatsapp. I love you, babe.”
“I love you too,” he says.
I feel someone behind me, it’s my aunt. I drop the call
and stand up.
“Please take this money to MaNdlela,” she says, giving
me R50.
“What is it for?” I ask.
“She knows, she will give you something in return," she
says.
MaNdlela has a new daughter-in-law, I’m sure she’s
selling something to help her son pay for the damages. I
take the money and charge my phone, then make my
way there.
I hope the new makoti is still there, I need to figure out
why she was so weird when she heard my name. It’s a
bit distant from my uncle’s house, over five minutes
walking distance.

But I make it quicker, I’m in a rush. There were no dogs

here the last time I checked. I just enter the yard and
ask a child playing in the yard where to find his
grandmother. It’s quiet, I think the makoti left with
Mbuzeni. What a miss!
I walk in, MaNdlela is busy washing dishes. She smiles
when I walk in.
“Nalenhle, I haven’t seen you in a long time. Why did
you quit your job?”
Jeez! Can’t she give me a chair first?
“Sawubona ma,” I say.
“Yebo. I heard that you quit your job, in such economy!
You’re very spoilt,” she says.
“You also spoil Mbuzeni,” I say with a chuckle, to make it
sound like I’m joking. She raised a horrible son and
supported his bad behavior, that’s also spoiling.
“Mbuzeni who is bringing me a grandchild?” She smiles
to herself.
“I saw his girlfriend, she’s very beautiful,” I say.
“He chose well, Roby is beautiful,” she says.
“Oh, her name is Roby?” I don’t know why I’m thinking
about Mr X’s Robyn, she wouldn’t move from someone
like Mr X to Mbuzeni.
“A very humble girl, I’m blessed,” she says.
“How did they meet?” I’m very curious.
“He worked for her friend and she fell in love with him.
Women love men who can protect them and you can
see Mbuzeni is a man amongst men.”
“Not a man that can provide?” I ask.
“Mbuzeni can provide, he’s just going through a rough
patch. And I’m helping him, where is the money?”
I did say she’s trying to help them.
She fetches a black plastic bag and gives me a wrapped
parcel.
“Don’t open it and don’t give her in front of your uncle,”
she says.
“Okay ma, don’t worry,” I say goodbye and leave.

I don’t know what I want to know more between this

parcel and Mbuzeni’s Roby. Okay, the parcel can go
first.
I stand behind a tree before I get home and unwrap it.
What’s all these big sweets with Chinese writings? I
check the bottle with pink powder, there’s a small plastic
packet with a different powder as well.
Oh, a paper with written instructions as well.
Wash what with the powder in a small packet? Isn’t she
scared of cancer?
Jesus Christ, these village women.
This is a sexual enhancing package and aunty spent
R100 on it. No wonder my uncle can’t get enough, she’s
using MaNdlela’s package on him.
I wrap it back the way MaNdlela wrapped it and proceed
home.

Now I look at my aunt differently. She really gives it to

my uncle. I hope there’s no possibility for her to fall
pregnant, that would be embarrassing. I give her the
parcel and pretend as if I don’t know anything.
Zola has been calling me, I have multiple missed calls.
I call her back, I have some hot tea to share with her.
“Why don’t you answer your phone?” she asks.
“I was on an errand. When was the last time you heard
from Robyn?”
“Today. When you saw Mbuzeni, how did the lady he
was with look like?”
“Tall and curvy. Her name is Roby, that’s why I’m asking.
I know it’s far-fetched but what if it’s Mr X’s Robyn?”
“It’s not "his" Robyn, I can’t believe this,” she says.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“It’s Robyn, she slept with Mbuzeni in Hluhluwe. Not just
once, but a couple of times. Yet she was here saying it’s
Xolani’s baby,” she says.
“Are you sure? I just saw Mbuzeni’s mother and she’s
over the moon. Her daughter-in-law, Roby, is having a
baby with Mbuzeni and she’s selling sexual enhancing
powders and sweets to help Mbuzeni support her.”
She laughs out loud. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m serious. No wonder she looked so
uncomfortable when she heard my name, she must
have remembered it from Mr X,” I say.
“This just got interesting. She didn’t know I come from
the same village as Mbuzeni. If she knew she would’ve
stayed away and kept that relationship hidden. I’m going
to make sure that he makes her regret ever messing
with him.”
“I want to visit,” I say.
She laughs, “Didn’t you say you’re too busy?”
“But I will miss out on the drama. Call Mbuzeni, put him
in the same room with Mr X, and then tell him to call her
over. Let’s see who she points the pregnancy to.”
“That’s exactly what I’m planning. Poor MaNdlela, does
Robyn know how famous she’s going to be when
MaNdlela finds out that she’s calling another man the
baby’s father?”
“It’s going to be scandalous, she’s already told the whole
village that her daughter-in-law is white.” Jesus, I’ve
never been so confused. Do I stay in the village for
MaNdlela’s drama or go to Tongaat for their version of
this drama?
No, I’m staying.
.
.
.

NOKUZOLA

Xolani played me, he made me feel stupid and insecure

for thinking something was going on between him and
Robyn. I remember when he called her and they both
denied everything. See who is Robyn’s fool now? I laugh
at every small joke on TV, I’m so happy.
Mbuzeni keeps calling his phone and asking for me, that
drives him crazy. But there’s nothing he can do about it
because Mbuzeni is seeking for the truth, just like him.
And I’m the one he can talk to because he knows me.
He walks in, “Your call.”
Mbuzeni did say he will call me again after speaking to
his family.
I take it and put him on loudspeaker.
“Hey Mbu,” I say.
Xolani shoots a dirty look. It’s how we shorten his name
in the village.
“Roby is coming to my place, I don’t know what to think,”
he says.
“Really? We can come over right now, let her tell the
truth once and for all.”
“I’m not going,” Xolani says.
I close the phone’s speaker. “And then?”
“I’m not going, I have the confirmation that I needed,” he
says.
Pheeww!
I remove my hand from the speaker. “Please send your
address Mbuzeni, we will come.”
“Okay, I will send it. Yazi I should’ve pursued you
instead, you wouldn’t have disappointed me like this,”
he’s starting again.
“No, be happy where you are,” I say.
“I’d be more happy with you. Can I see you when you...”
The phone is snatched and call dropped. It’s the sour,
old man.
“I will block this number,” he says.
“Why? Robyn still owes us the truth.”
“I know that I’m not the father, there’s a family waiting for
a grandchild. I’m old Nokuzola, I don’t have time for
games.” Now he’s pulling the age card because he looks
stupid in all this.
“Unfortunately you were not the only one affected by
this, so I need closure,” I say.
“Go and find it, I’m not going,” he says.
“Okay, no problem. Don’t block him until he sends me
the address.”
“You’re not going to his house,” he says.
“I’m not going?” I need him to rephrase that.
“You’re not going Nokuzola. I will deal with this my way,"
he says.
“Oh now it’s your way, didn’t you say that you’re going to
follow every instruction I make?”
“It doesn’t mean make me look spineless in front of your
old flames. This is a Hadebe matter, not your village
matter,” he says.
“You’re so sour! Mbuzeni is also a victim, you’re both
victims.”
“Victims?” He doesn’t like the word but it fits.
“Yes, maybe you need to create a Whatsapp support
group as Robyn survivors.”
He gets off the couch and leaves.
“Xolani,” I call him.
He stops, “What?”
“I’m taking us out since you don’t want me to go to
Mbuzeni’s house.”
“I don’t feel like going out,” he says.
“But you are coming with me.” I also listen to him when
he tells me to do or not do something.
I’m not going to Mbuzeni’s house, so we are going out to
celebrate his misfortune.
.
.
.
MBUZENI

He’s devastated, he just went home with Roby to

introduce her to his mother. The whole family loves her
and expects a beautiful baby. Is it even his baby?
She arrives, walking high on her stilettos. Their first
sexual encounter was on his request in exchange of a
favor. She liked it and kept contact, coming back for
more until a spark developed between the two of them.
He still opens his arms and hugs her despite being
angry at her.
“Are you alright?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m alright,” he says.
She smiles and pulls his beard playfully. “Then what’s
with the long face? I brought us prawns and wine.”
“Roby we need to talk about this,” he says.
“What is this?” She walks in, hurrying to feed her
expensive cravings.
“The baby. Are you sure it’s mine? I don’t want to keep
getting calls from people telling me you’re also telling
them the baby is theirs.”
“Xolani, right?” She rolls her eyes.
“So you know him?” He’s disappointed.
“Yeah, he’s annoying, don’t mind him.”
“But he’s engaged to a girl from my village, I’m sure this
is all over the place right now. Why do they keep calling
you a liar?”
“What girl?” she asks.
“Nokuzola. Remember the girl we met with a bundle of
firewoods, that was her cousin,” he says.
“I knew it! Something sounded familiar. So they’re
ruining my name now?” She doesn’t even want these
prawns anymore. Xolani is the last person to ruin her
name, the last!
Her phone rings, it’s the devil.
“Let me take his call,” she walks away.
Mbuzeni sighs heavily. Is this how it’s like falling for a
city woman? Nobody has ever treated him like this.
Robyn answers the call in the bathroom.
“Why are you ruining my name?”
“Are you fuckin’ crazy? You almost destroyed my family
with your lies. You know who the father is, you’ve visited
his family and reported the pregnancy. What do you
want from me? Money?”
“Yes,” she says.
“After you tried to destroy my family twice?”
“I have done a lot for you. Or you need me to remind
you and call your nephews to talk about it?”
“Robyn!” his tone sends a warning.
“They can ask me what happened to their father within a
couple of weeks.”
“Let’s meet and talk,” he says.
“I’m coming with my babydaddy.”
“No, just the two of us, please.”

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 104
NOKUZOLA

I dragged him out and we had dinner, he wasn’t

comfortable and I enjoyed it. It felt good seeing him
being tormented by the consequences of his actions. I
know what got him mad the most is the fact that we
fought hard over it and it turned out to be untrue. So it
was all for nothing, Robyn just turned his world upside
for absolute no reason.
We went to bed together, then he got an emergency call
from the pub. I don’t know what was happening, maybe
drunk people were fighting even though that never need
him, he hurriedly left towards midnight.
He’s only coming back now, I’m too horny to ask
questions. This whole week has been us against each
other, we didn’t even sleep facing the same direction. I
miss his touch and his sweat dropping down on me.
“Hey,” I say, fixing the pillow for him.
He kisses my forehead, then takes off his pants and T-
shirt.
“Sorry I’m only coming home now,” he says.
“What took so long?” I ask.
“How did you sleep?” he asks, without answering my
question.
He knows better than this, once I start getting funny
ideas it will go down hill, I’m in a very good mood.
I look at him, his eyes run away from me.
Something is going on.
“Uphumaphi? Where were you?” I sit up.
He’s not messing with me again. He’s not lying to me
again, I refuse!
“I went to work,” he says.
“No, you didn’t, otherwise you would’ve answered my
first question.”
He exhales heavily and pulls me down to sleep on his
arm. Then he kisses my cheek. “You and I are okay,
right?”
“We are,” I say.
“Then please sthandwa sami, don’t shout at me. I’m
coming from the pub, there was a fight, someone almost
died. I had to go to the hospital, police station and to the
family,” he says.
“You could’ve just told me so and I wasn’t shouting, I
only sat up because I felt like you were hiding something
from me. We agreed that there will be no more secrets
between us.”
“I know, I’m just tired, ngiyaxolisa,” he says.
“No problem.” I turn and kiss his lips.
His eyes are very dark, not in color, they just look dark
and heavy. Maybe it’s the stress and lack of sleep. I kiss
his lips again.
“I miss you,” I say.
He smiles, “Kiss me again.”
I kiss him but I want more than just kisses. I lower my
hand into his boxers, he finches and stops me. Shocked
is the word.
“Xolani?” I can’t believe he’s stopping me.
“I’m tired mama,” he says.
“You’re tired?” I don’t feel good when he turns down my
sexual advances, it takes me back to how things
unfolded the first time he did.
“Do you want me to help you?” he asks.
“I want you to make love to me, not help me.”
“I’m sorry,” he pulls me for a hug.
I push him, my eyes are already burning with tears.
“Did you cheat on me again?” I ask.
“Nokuzola! No, I said I will never do such thing again.
I’m just tired, I had a long night, I need to rest a bit and
then when I wake up…”
“Never mind,” I get off the bed.

It’s Sunday, I have a lot to do around the house since

the helper won’t be around. I’m not going to beg him for
sex.
“I love you, Nokuzola,” he says.
I ignore him and put a robe on.
“Nokuzola,” he calls.
“I heard you, Xolani.”
“Look at me, please.”
I release a sigh, because I have to stay calm, then I look
at him.
“Come and kiss me,” he says.
I don’t know what patience game this is, he knows very
well that I’m irritated at the moment. But I go to him and
kiss his lips.
“I want this to be a warm home for our children, and by
that I’m including my brother’s children as well. I want
this anger gone and I want you to be a woman of this
house. A warm mother they’re going to be happy to visit
and be around.”
“But you make me cold, Xolani.” I don’t just wake up and
decide to be cold.
“I’m trying to be a good man, learning from my mistakes
and focusing on my family. Things will come up from the
past and I will try to correct them the best way that I can.
What I need from you is support and understanding.”
“Okay,” I nod.
“Can I take a nap, ungang’dinelwe?”
“It’s fine, take your nap.”
“Kiss?”
I smile and kiss his lips.
“I love you,” he says.
.
.
.

He’s been sleeping for hours, it’s getting lonely for me. I
have made us food but ate alone because he’s not
awake, now I’m eating for the second time. I miss
Lwethu, she hasn’t come back from Nzalo’s house, I
guess he finally forgave her and they’re getting along.
My phone rings and it’s Nale. I have given up on
begging her to come and visit me.
“Stranger,” I answer.
“Please tell me you’re sitting down,” she says.
“Lying on the couch, what’s the latest?” I know she’s
bringing me new village tea.
There’s always something going on that side, they’re
their own entertainment.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard about Mbuzeni and Robyn,”
she says.
“I gave you that tea mos.” How can she tell me the news
I broke to her first.
“They’re both dead,” she says.
“Huh?” I sit up straight, my chest is pounding.
Dead? I spoke to Mbuzeni yesterday afternoon.
“It’s sad, he killed her and then turned the gun on
himself. MaNdlela is losing it, your mom just went there
with other women.” She’s serious, I know Nale will never
joke about death.
“I’m confused. When did all this happen?” I ask.
“Last night, at his house in Waterloo. MaNdlela got a call
this morning from his neighbors. I didn’t think it would
get this far, it’s not like he was with Robyn when she
slept with Mr X.”
“I’m confused, when we talked he didn’t even sound
angry.” I don’t know what to think. Did I drive him to it by
constantly feeding him information about Robyn?
“Maybe they argued about it and he got angry.
Remember he was stabbing people here in the village,
one guy almost lost his life,” I say.
“I remember, but a pregnant woman?” There’s a knot in
my stomach, I feel responsible, like I played a huge part
in her demise. My heart is with her, not Mbuzeni who
decided to end his life. I’m sure Robyn wanted to meet
her child, confused as she was, and she still wanted to
live. Regardless of how I felt about her, she was
someone’s daughter.
“Mbuzeni could’ve just waited for the birth and kept his
distance instead of killing her,” I say.
“Exactly what we’ve been saying, it’s so unfair. But ke
you’re free and so is Mr X. Where is he? I want to say
hi,” she asks.
“He’s taking a nap,” I say.
“During the day? Is he the pregnant one?”
“He had a rough night, you know how his customers get
on weekends.”
“Oh yes, pass my regards to him.”
.
.
.
I take a walk in the backyard, my head is pounding. I’m
trying my best not to overthink. It’s what Mbuzeni’s
neighbors say it was. And the police got there, right?
They would’ve known if there was a third hand. And
beside, Xolani would never commit such horrific crime.
Robyn hadn’t gotten a cent from him, it’s likely to be
Mbuzeni acting out of anger. And knowing how he was
like back home, I wouldn’t put it past him.
Shit, Winnie.
I need to update her, maybe she hasn’t heard. I stand
against the door and scroll down to her number. Before I
press the call button, hands grab my waist.
He kisses my neck, “I’m awake.”
How did I not hear him coming?
I’m a bit startled, as if he can read what I’ve been
thinking about him.
“I was about to call Winnie,” I say.
“You will call her later, come here.” He lifts me up, swiftly
I almost lose my breath.
I wrap my arms around him, he takes me to the lounge
couch.
We kiss; he grabs my face and deeply kisses me.
I get a chance to breathe and exhale enormously.
“Xolani!”
“Yes mama,” he lifts my skirt, chasing my lips to kiss me
again. My panty shifts to the side, his fingers rubs my
mound.
“Have you calmed down?” he asks in a low whisper.
“I did, a long time ago,” I say.
“Show me,” he pulls off his T-shirt and rests back on the
couch next to me with his boxers lowered.
Really? I was in the mood in the morning, not now.
“Woza,” he pulls out his arm.
I take my panty off and sit on his lap. We kiss again, his
hand slides under my skirt to my uncovered ass. His
erection rubs against me, I can feel the vein pulsating.
“Xolani, something horrible happened,” I say.
He stops, “With you?”
“No, not with me but…”
“If it’s not about you, I don’t care.” He grabs my face and
kisses me again. My legs are spread on his lap, his
finger enters my cookie jar. He doesn’t know how
important this is.
I try talking to him again but he’s busy, not giving me a
chance.
“Sit on it,” he says, pulling out his fingers wet.
I lift my skirt up and position myself on it, then smoothly
go down until every inch is buried inside me. He holds
my belly while I move up and down on him. He’s
enjoying, every facial expression he makes evidently
shows it.
I want to keep going until we both reach our orgasms
but my waist can no longer take it. He takes his turn; he
puts me down on my back and spreads my legs to the
sides, then bounces in my cookie.
We wet the couch, his load fills me up and spills down.
My thighs are sticky when we are done, I want to clean
myself but I’m wrapped in his sweaty arms.
“I never thought I’d ever be this happy in my life,” he
says, lightly pecking me on the neck.
“You are happy?” I ask.
“With you? Kakhulu makoti, I wouldn’t be anywhere in
the world except here,” he says.
“That makes me happy.” Nothing will ever make more
sense than me being with him.
It hasn’t been harmonious, we’ve had many downs than
ups, but still, my heart beats for him. He moves to the
side but keeps his hand on me.
“What did you want to tell me?” he asks.
Now doesn’t look like the perfect time. We just had sex,
confirmed our feelings to one another and reconnected,
I’m not announcing death right after it. He will find out, I
know he’s going to find a couple of missed calls.
.
.
.
NALENHLE
Mbuzeni’s death is the latest topic in the village. I don’t
know if it’s MaNdlela spreading it to justify her son’s
actions, everyone knows that Robyn was clearing on
him and Mbuzeni found out that the baby wasn’t his,
hence ended their lives. Not just the two of them but
three, there was an innocent soul growing inside her. My
aunt keeps going to see her and bringing back the
mattress tea. What they don’t know, and I pray they
never do, is that Mr X was the other man. I don’t know
why Robyn had to end up with a man in our village,
everything keeps unfolding in a way nobody could’ve
ever predicted.
Thami walks in, aunty is still updating us about the
funeral arrangements.
“Whose car is parked on the road?” he asks.
“Which road?” We are all confused.
“Outside, the black one,” he says.
I hope it’s not who I think it is because he didn’t tell me
anything. I check my phone, there’s no message from
him.
“Who is it?” malume asks, looking at me.
“I don’t know,” I shrug.
He stands up and takes his knobkirrie, then walks out.
My uncle has anger problems, you’d swear he doesn’t
get it with artificial warmth at night. I walk behind him, I
don’t want him to hurt that person, whoever it is in that
black car I’ve rode a couple of times, I don’t want my
uncle to end up in jail.
“Where are you going?” He turns back to me.
“I want to see who it is,” I say.
The door opens and we both see who it is. I have been
told to tell him not to come around anymore. His uncle
also got the message. But here he is, looking clueless.
“It’s you again,” my uncle is now tired of repeating
himself.
“Hello malume,” he says.
“What are you here for this time?”
“Nalenhle has been scamming me, malume.”
Seriously? It was only twice, that doesn’t make it a
scam.
My uncle looks at me. “What did you do?”
“It’s a misunderstanding,” I say.
“I’m tired of you two, you can’t do your thing without
annoying everyone.” He turns, putting the knobkirrie
over his shoulders.
“I saw this one on the road and recognize him,” Nzalo
says.
We are both confused. Who is him? And why is he
opening the back door?
Dennis???
What was he doing on the road? He hasn’t been feeling
well.
Oh, he’s one of my uncle’s goats and he’s on his father’s
arms right now.
“Thank you. Didn’t he mess the car?” he asks.
Nzalo smiles, “Not at all, he’s well-behaved.”
“They all are, let me go and check his leg.” His anger is
gone, he no longer cares about Nzalo’s parking spot and
me getting in his car.
“Now say the truth, I know you don’t know his goats,” I
say.
“Thami helped me, I have to do something to earn a
place in his heart.”
I knew it! This is a staged heroic act.
“So when is tomorrow in your calendar?”
Jesus Christ!
“I’m sorry,” I laugh.
He smiles, shaking his head hopelessly.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 105
NOKUZOLA

It’s my first week in the maternity leave, Dr Zondo’s wife,

Mbalenhle, reached out. This was supposed to be two
women of different ages trying to form a friendship;
getting to know each other a bit more and of course
gossiping about two friends that we chose to partner up
with for life. Not a crazy shopping spree. I know there’s
no better way for women to spend time together than to
go out shopping. But no, I’m getting scared.
She takes a pair of boots that costs close to R4000 and
throws them in my shopping trolley. She’s already made
me buy a scarf for R1200, a fuckin' scarf! With her own
shopping she doesn’t even look at the prices.
“This card is going to decline now,” I say.
“Hadebe’s card declining? Don’t undermine my
husband’s friend like that.” She’s taking me to the bag
aisle. Ugly bags with ridiculous prices. If this card
doesn’t decline Xolani will be definitely calling to ask
what I’m doing. His notifications have been rolling in
since we got here.
I choose a purse smaller than every other purse. Then
check the price, nope I’m not doing this. This is crazy.

We get to the cash register and my bill is close to what

he paid to my father for each cow. I’m holding my breath
as I make payment, I expect my phone to ring at
anytime. But it doesn’t, maybe he’s busy, he hasn’t
noticed all these transactions happening. We are done
shopping, finally the shopaholic with me is satisfied. We
head to Ocean Basket for lunch. I’m heavily pregnant,
we still have to drive back to Tongaat and I have to pack
my bags for my trip to the village ttomorrow.
I haven’t met her kids yet, I know she has three and the
first one is already in Grade 5.
“I need to host something so that I can meet the kids,
maybe lunch with friends,” I say.
“Don’t worry, you will meet them and you will want to
have your life back after they get used to you because I
will be bringing them for sleepovers every week,” she
says.
“I love kids, I won’t mind,” I say.
“Let’s give it a couple of years, wait until the Hadebe
princess is 3.” They all think it’s going to be a girl, I want
is to be a surprise but Xolani has already told everyone
in his circle that he’s becoming a girl dad again. He
didn’t experience it with Onathi, so that dream of his is
still alive.
“In 3 years she’ll have a sibling, according to Hadebe,” I
say.
“Aren’t they all like that? Take him to the delivery room
with you, he will think twice.”
“Isn’t that embarrassing?” I have talked about it with him,
obviously it’s not how I was raised, where I come from a
man doesn’t see his baby until they’re at least two
months old. But Xolani wants to be with me when I
deliver; he wants to experience every step of this
journey.
“He knows your private part from every angle, what’s
embarrassing?” She’s obviously very comfortable with
Zondo, they’ve been together for years and gone
through multiple child births.
“I still get shy around him sometimes,” I say.
She laughs, “Are you serious? He eats from the palm of
your hand. Do you know how highly he speaks of you?”
“I know, but it doesn’t mean I can do anything in front of
him. I still want to look perfect all the time when I’m with
him.” Well, that is until he makes me angry, then I walk
with one shoe on and unkempt hair, in my robe shouting
like a mad woman.
“Young love!” she shakes her head.
Then we look at each, young love? Then we burst into
laughter.
I like her, she has my level of sense of humor.
.
.
.

We make an ice-cream stop then head back to Tongaat.

She drops me outside, I’m dragging myself inside with
heavy shopping bags. Xolani is home, he’s minimized
his work hours to spend more time home.
“I can explain,” I say walking through the door.
He looks at me, expressionless.
My bags scatter on the floor, I’m panting heavily from
that short walk. I catch my breath first, then explain.
“Mbalenhle made me do it.”
He frowns, “Do what? Do you need a drink?”
“No, I’m fine. Are you mad?” I ask.
“Mad about what?” He’s confused.
“Didn’t you get the bank notifications?” I’m expecting a
confrontation and financial lesson, but he looks
unbothered and rather confused by the fuss I’m making
about it.
“I knew you went out shopping and I know that women
want everything. I expected you to call me to increase
my limit but you never did,” he says.
“Seriously?” Now I want to go back and shop more.
“Show me what you got,” he’s not even interested in
talking about it.
Mbalenhle was right, I need to let it sink in. He has
money, lots of it, and I have to upgrade my mentality and
live this new lifestyle comfortably.
I’m too big for some of the clothes, I knew I’d have to
wait until I give birth and lose weight before I fit into
them. But I cry, how did I become this whale?
“They will fit you sthandwa sami,” he says, failing to
close a dress’ zip.
“When Xolani?” I wouldn’t look like this if it wasn’t for
him.
He exhales heavily, “It’s only two more months and you
will be beautiful again.”
Excuse me?
No, excuse him.
“You’re beautiful even now, what I mean is…”
I push his hands off me and take the stupid dress of.
Wait, am I hearing a laugh?
I turn around, he pretends to fix his watch.
Deep breath! Only two more months and it will be over.
.
.
.

I’m going home for my aunt’s ceremony happening in

three days. I could’ve gone earlier but I wasn’t going to
be good use anyway. I can’t help with water, I’m too
pregnant to fill big water drums and collect firewood.
Nale wasn’t alone, neighbors are helping out and I sent
money for the water truck hire.
Xolani walks in, I just finished packing.
“I don’t know who’s going to come with Onathi? Lwethu
can’t go in her condition. I thought Msindisi would come
but something has come up,” he says, looking worried.
Some people from the Hadebes have to show up,
normally with a case of cold drinks, maybe a bucket of
scones as well. It’s how in-laws support each other
during family ceremonies.
“What’s keeping Msindisi in Northern Cape?” I’m
confused, he left and never looked back.
He hasn’t visited home, not even for the weekend.
“I don’t know, ever since he linked up with Jamal he’s
been hard to get,” he says.
“Jamal, your friend?” I’ve heard the name.
“Yes, the one I asked to help him get settled in.”
“Oh, maybe he found a girlfriend that side, who knows?”
“Then he must come with her and introduce her to us.
We accept everyone, as long as she’s going to give him
kids and grow this family,” he says.
“He will, give him time. Maybe you can call Winnie and
ask if she can come with Onathi.” Winnie wasn’t
charged, she had good lawyers that he had to find, for
Onathi’s sake. Nzalo doesn’t know, I don’t know if he’d
be happy if he found out.
“Bad idea,” he says.
“You’re right, Nzalo will probably be there, there will be
unnecessary tension.” Maybe Onathi should just come
with her friends, this is not a big family, he won’t find
anyone else.
“Wena, when are you coming back home?” he asks.
Lobola was concluded but I’m still a Thabethe, that’s
where home is until my dad hands me over the
traditional way.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Tuesday?” he says.
“So you think four days is enough?”
“You’re pregnant, there’s no medical center around the
village in case of an emergency. If it was up to me you’d
come back Sunday,” he says.
“Well, it’s not up to you, I will come back Tuesday.”
He exhales heavily, “Okay.”
“Take care of yourself, don’t mess around.”
“Am I a child now?” he chuckles.
“Sometimes you act like one.” Things have been okay
between us, we moved on from the Robyn turmoil. Her
death shook me, not him, but I realized that I wasn’t
counting my blessings and started embracing God’s
plans. It was a confirmed murder and suicide case, no
other controversies flew around, families made peace
with it.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

My mother was unmarried so a goat should’ve been

slaughtered instead of a cow. But she lived her whole
life feeling small and incomplete, her brother insisted on
a cow. It’s an ibhayi ceremony, there will be no
celebrations, just a gathering of relatives and village to
eat harmoniously. I’ve had so much to do the whole
week, I don’t want anything to go wrong.
I’m coming back from the shop, aunty needed more
yeast for the traditional mahewu she’s making. Nzalo
comes here, he’s come three times this week and
parked in the yard. Thami allocated him a parking spot.
He’s been really supportive this time around. He’s never
been given permission to be inside the yard, let alone
the house. But he’s my uncle’s assistant by default, he’s
been driving us to most errands and helping him with
heavy chores around the yard. Obviously it’s very rare to
find a situation like this, a boyfriend so involved in the
preparations of his in-laws’ ceremony, I’m sure gossips
are already going around. But I appreciate him, this
makes up for his absence when my mother died.

Oh, the rich housewife of Tongaat has arrived. I see her

car and my mood instantly improves. I miss her, we still
talk but now we are apart. I don’t think we’ll ever live
together again and that makes me sad.
“Heeey!” she screams when she sees me.
“You’re huge,” I haven’t seen her recently, she’s double
her size.
“Don’t bodyshame me, come here.” She leads me to the
bedroom.
I dump the yeast on my aunt’s lap and hurry up.
Yeses, these are the bags she carries now?
“I bought something for you,” she says.
Talk about gifts, see my gums all out!
It’s a pair of branded sneakers. New from the box. I love
them!
“Thank you.” I try them on right away; they fit perfectly.
“Xolani sent his regards,” she says.
“He hasn’t he retired?” I ask.
“Ask his son, you moved him in to your uncle’s house,”
she says.
I laugh because I started her. Nzalo has never slept over
and he never will.
“I’m looking for a new job after this. I think I’m
emotionally ready to face the world again,” I tell her, the
only thing I’ve been waiting for is my mother’s ceremony.
“Where?” she asks.
I shrug, “I don’t know, I will talk to Nzalo as well.”
“So you will work with your boyfriend as a boss? You will
mix business with pleasure all because you’re avoiding
my opinion?” she asks.
“I’m not scared of your opinion.” Well, I am, just a little
bit.
“I think you need a better way to handle your emotions,
a way that doesn’t involve running home and quitting
everything. It’s not normal, you left your job and I was
offended, you know why. But I’d rather talk to Xolani and
have him find a job for you than you working for Nzalo. I
just don’t see it ending well.”
“That’s fine too, I’m okay with any job,” I say.
“Give him a week or two,” she says.
She got me my first job as well, so I understand she’s
not happy. Hopefully the job I get now will suit my
personality and I will be happy, always looking forward
to it.

Aunty calls us to the kitchen, a couple of village women

just came to check if we need help and now we have to
make them tea.
There’s a Ngcobo woman who never comes out for
anything, I’m very surprised to see her here.
“I thought you were the pregnant one,” she says to me.
“Oh no, never.” Holy ghost, fireeee!
She laughs, then looks at Zola. “It’s a boy, how far are
you?”
“7 months,” she says.
“You need to wear something around your waist. Have
you lost a baby before?”
We are confused and shocked. What kind of question is
this?
“No,” Zola shakes her head.
“And the father?”
“Not that I know of.”
“There’s a late sibling who never made it, his soul
hovers over your baby. Talk to him, maybe something
happened and he never paid respect to the little one’s
soul. Congratulations by the way, we see your father’s
new livestock,” she smiles and walks away.
I don’t think Zola knows anything or even understand
what’s going on.
“Mr X lost a baby?” I ask.
“With who?” she asks me.
“Ask him before it’s too late.”
She’s close to giving birth, I don’t know why I believe the
Ngcobo woman when she says it’s a boy, I don’t want
anything happening to my nephew. Mr X has some
secrets to spill out, hopefully it’s something that
happened before Zola.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 106
NOKUZOLA

I didn’t want to have a baby when we found out I was

pregnant. I was crying, threatening Xolani with abortion
and confused. It was one of the worst periods of my life.
Well, my whole first trimester was. I was going through
tough times.
But now I’ve embraced my baby, I’m looking forward to
motherhood. I have already bought unisex clothes and a
baby stroller that I push around with a pack of diapers
inside, just to practice. I want to meet my baby, and I
will.
Dad is busy in the kraal, the cow has been tied up,
people are arriving for the slaughtering.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
I know my dad will find me help sooner, he’s friends with
Khanyile.
“I’m busy Nokuzola,” he says.
“It’s an emergency,” I say.
“Give me a minute,” he says.
I return back to my bedroom, I haven’t talked to Xolani
about it, I don't want him to panic before I confirm this
with Khanyile.

Dad walks in with his overalls folded, he’s really busy.

Whenever he’s hosting something he wants everything
to be perfect.
“What’s urgent?” he asks.
“You know the Ngcobo aunt who wears a white doek?
She told me that I need to wear something around my
waist or something might happen to my baby,” I say.
“Why? Are you feeling sick?” he asks.
“No, I’m not sick. She talked about a sibling’s soul
hovering over him. Do you think Khanyile can make
something for me?” I’m scared, I don’t take this lightly.
“Yes, but not today or tomorrow, you can see that I have
guests to host,” he says.
“So guests are important than your grandchild,
Thabethe?” This is exactly what I don’t like, he puts
everything above me. Anything could happen if I don’t
get whatever waist thing is needed and he cares more
about his guests.
“I’m not doing this right now, Nokuzola. Have you
spoken to Hadebe? Because he should be the one
looking for help, these are the Hadebe souls,” he says.
“When will he get here? Xolani isn’t informed about
these things also, as long as everything is fine medically
he’s okay,” I say.
“He’s black and he has a family, being a head of the
house starts now. I will go to Khanyile when this
ceremony I’m doing is completed, if you want it done
immediately then call him.”
I didn’t expect this. I thought he’d react swiftly but as
usual, he’s got other things to do that are more
important than my life and the one I’m carrying.
.
.
.
NALENHLE
Our family dynamics will always include Zola and her
dad arguing, and a flood of tears. I walk in to her room,
she’s crying on the bed. I don’t know what led to this.
“What happened?” I ask, sitting next to her.
“He doesn’t care,” she’s sobbing.
“Care about what?” I ask.
“That my baby could be in danger. I asked him to go to
Khanyile, he refused and said he will go after the
ceremony or I should ask Xolani to go,” she says
“Yoh, askies!” I don’t know which side to take. He is
busy, that’s not a lie. He’s invited people to come and
help him slaughter the cow, he can’t leave them alone.
He’s the head of this family, they will need his
instructions every step of the way.
“He can’t put me first for once,” she cries.
Their relationship is very tricky. I think she’s in her “me”
era, obviously Mr X led her to it, to him it’s her before
everyone, now she wants her dad to do the same. Fine,
he hasn’t been putting her first almost her whole life
because of this family’s dynamics, now she wants him to
be her hero.
“Please wait until the ceremony is over,” I say, I
understand he can’t put everything on hold because of
what a Ngcobo woman said.
“I have always allowed you and aunty to go first. Now
even my baby has to go through the same struggles I
went through.” She’s now taking it too far.
I mean way too far. My mom is late and she suffered her
whole life.
“Don’t include my mom in this,” I say.
“I’m not saying it’s her fault, you don’t understand
because….”
“No Zola, I understand how you feel and stuff, but you
can’t talk about my mom. Let her rest, you could’ve
expressed your feelings any day, not wait until
something is done in her honor.” I’m pissed off, not so
long ago I was happy to see her, but it turns out she's
now Mr X’s spoilt brat.
I leave her crying, I have chores to complete. What has
my mom got to do with the Hadebe roaming souls?
She couldn’t speak for herself but she left a daughter, I
will be her voice from now onwards.
.
.
.
SKHUNDLA THABETHE

He had a long day, it’s around 11pm when he finally

goes to bed. He bathed with cold water outside the yard,
he finds his wife awake. He’s surprised, he thought
she’d be long asleep.
He kisses her cheek, “You waited for me.”
“Yes, we need to talk,” she says.
He frowns, the look on her face is unsettling. Did he do
something wrong?
“Nokuzola is not happy,” she says.
He heaves a long sigh, “Is it about me not going to
Khanyile?”
“Yes. Thabethe you have to understand this is her first
baby, she’s scared. The fact that she came to you before
me shows that she believes in dad’s super powers like
most girls do.”
“But I told her I will go, the problem is that she wanted
me to leave everything I was doing and go today. I had
people who came to help me, if she wanted things done
on her terms she could’ve called Hadebe because this is
a Hadebe issue anyway.”
“Nokuzola is still a Thabethe,” Khululiwe says.
“Okay, what do you want me to do? Postpone the
ceremony and focus on the pregnancy? I asked if she
was feeling unwell and she said no.”
“Must you wait until the baby is in real danger? No
Thabethe, that’s my daughter and for once you have an
opportunity to show her that she’s a priority and you
choose not to.”
“I didn’t expect this!” he lies back on the pillow and
exhales heavily.
“I’m not going to accept it now, 29 years later. We have
already given your family our all attention, for once I
need your attention to be on our children,” she says.
He gives no response. Khululiwe pulls up the duvet and
sleeps facing the wall.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

I overslept, I did a lot yesterday and it took a toll on my

body. Waking up this morning I realize that it’s just me
and Thami home. It’s the day of the ceremony, there’s a
group of village boys sitting in the kraal, I don’t know
where my uncle is.
Thami comes in, “They’re asking for traditional beer,
they’re hung over.”
“Where is your dad? I don’t know which one to give
them.” I don’t even think they should be here asking for
things so early, most people are coming in the
afternoon.
“They went to see Bab’ Khanyile with Sis’ Zola,” he says.
“Both of them?”
“Yes,” he nods.
I’m confused and angry. I don’t know anything about
what should happen and shouldn’t happen. The least
they could’ve done is leave me with a set of instructions.
“I don’t know, take any of those in the kitchen and give
them,” I say.
He takes one pot of traditional beer and leaves.

It doesn’t take long before a couple of women also

arrive. I’m all alone, I don’t know where to point them, I
let them sit in the lounge and take out cold drinks for
them. Maybe I wasn’t informed, people were told to
come in the morning.
I roll dumplings and put the dough in the sun for heat. I
don’t know what to do next, if they had told me to do this
ceremony myself I would’ve done my research on time. I
don’t want to call because if they wanted me to know
anything they would’ve told me before they left.
Thami’s people keep asking for more traditional beer,
now requesting some meat as well. I have no choice but
to tell them to go and come back later. It leaves a bitter
taste in my mouth because it feels like I just kicked out
people who were here to embrace my mother’s afterlife
journey.
The women in the lounge are looking at me, expecting
some sort of announcement. They can see that nobody
is home except Thami and I. My grandmother’s family is
arriving today with other useless relatives. If they came
yesterday or the day before this wouldn’t have
happened, they’d tell me what to do.
I'm alone.
.
.
.
NOKUZOLA

I don’t know what changed dad’s mind, him and my

mother woke up at 6am and told me to get dressed. We
got in the car and came here to see Khanyile, he says
the same thing the Ngcobo woman said. Xolani has a
late child that he didn’t meet or did anything to
acknowledge. I know two people who don’t know him
can’t lie about him. What I’m not sure of is if he knows
anything about this late child. Xolani loves children, he
would’ve told me about it and did everything he’s
expected to do for the innocent soul to rest in peace.
Khanyile gives me herbs to bathe with but insists that
Xolani should get cleansed as well.

My parents have questions that I can’t answer.

“So he hasn’t told you anything?” mom asks.
“No, I don’t think he will even understand this.”
“But Khanyile never lies. Did he ever follow through with
his ex’s story?”
“She died nje ma, and it was already confirmed that her
baby belonged to someone else that she’d been with
before Xolani.” I don’t feel comfortable telling them that
MaNdlela’s daughter-in-law was the same woman we
talked about. I asked Nale not to say anything either,
both Mbuzeni and Robyn are dead, we closed that
chapter.
“Maybe she wasn’t lying after all,” she says.
“That’s not his fault then, she wasn’t honest with
anything. I had a meeting with her, trying to find a
solution and she ran off.” I wouldn’t hold Xolani
accountable even if it was true, we tried to get to the
bottom of it, Robyn stood on the way.
.
.
.
I get home, people have already arrived so early. Village
people! They know ceremonies start late, even kids
birthdays parties don’t start before 12am. I greet and
make my way to the bedroom. I call Xolani, at least now
I have confirmation and solution.
“Makoti wami,” he answers.
“Hey, how are you?” I ask.
“I’m fine, just worried about you, you’ve been offline the
whole morning. You didn’t even text me back when I
said good morning,” he says.
“Sorry Hadebe, I had to go somewhere with my
parents,” I say.
“Okay, is there anything I should know?” he asks.
“A woman came here and told me that my baby needs
protection because you have a late child that was never
acknowledged and its soul is hovering over my baby.”
“Are you serious?” He’s shocked.
“We went to confirm that with my parents from Khanyile,
a trusted village seer. Do you think maybe Robyn was
telling the truth?” I ask.
“No, you know that she was lying, she was in a
relationship with your dead home boy,” he says.
“But things happen, Robyn was smart, you also said it.
Unless there was someone else…”
“You have started again. I don’t know what child they’re
talking about, unless Phindile pulled another trick before
Onathi happened. I don’t know what to think.”
“Then come, let’s go to Khanyile, both of us, and find
out,” I say.
“Alright, I will come Tuesday, we’ll go before you come
back," he says.
I’m a bit relieved, this will be sorted, I trust Khanyile. I
don’t think it’s MaMkhwanazi, I don’t know why but I just
think it’s Robyn’s baby. Khanyile will give more clarity on
this, he will tell us which relationship created the restless
soul.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 107
NOKUZOLA

Unfortunately Onathi couldn’t find anyone to come with,

she just came with cold drinks and a bottle of Sminorff
then joined us in the kitchen. I have introduced her to my
mother, she’s a non-biological granddaughter of the
family. I’m a stepmother to one, almost became one to
two but God rescued me. Onathi doesn’t regard
MaMkhwanazi as her mother, when she was sentenced
to 25 years of imprisonment we worried, Xolani wanted
to fetch her from college and bring her home to be with
us, but she was perfectly fine. She wasn’t affected by it
the way we thought she would be. She takes Winnie as
her mother, despite of her past I like Winnie and enjoy
co-parenting with her and Xolani. It’s healthy, there’s no
drama. I can’t say things would’ve been the same if it
was Robyn, so God helped us all.
Nale is not cool with me, I have noticed the cold
shoulder she’s giving everyone. It might be because of
what happened yesterday; she took it wrongly when I
talked about her mom, who is my biological aunt and
family. I loved her and I respected her until she took her
last breath. Nale knows that, I’d never speak ill of my
aunt, I was just trying to explain to her why I was feeling
the way that I felt. She took offense, I guess.
Anyway, I don’t think anyone wants drama today. We
have served the guests, everything is going well, the
whole village came out. In the village they say the
guests’ energy and numbers determine the success of
the ceremony. This is a successful ceremony, it’s packed
and everyone seems to be happy.
Thami walks in, he’s been working tireless since
yesterday. He’d usually go to Nale but today she’s not in
the mood, he avoids her and comes to me.
“Bhut’ Nzalo has arrived,” he says.
“I don’t know how that works, tell dad.” I don’t live here,
Xolani doesn’t come here unless there’s a meeting he’s
a part of between two families. My relationship is
different, we are following the rules that were set to the
dot. He is umkhwenyana here so he acts like one. I don’t
know how their relationship with Nzalo is. It looks like he
got an invite to be here and their lobola negotiations are
only on stage one. Whatever they say about animals in
a farm, that’s exactly what happens in this family. Xolani
is expected to be a perfect mkhwenyana who follows
every tradition and terms and conditions, but Nzalo gets
a pass, just like Thami’s girlfriend.

When I walk out to check the fire outside, Thabethe is

standing with his future son-in-law in the yard. They both
have their hands in their pockets, talking and laughing.
“Does it need more firewood?” mom asks, coming
behind me.
“Yes,” I can’t bend down to do it, standing back up will
be a struggle.
She does it for me and reignite a huge flame of fire.
“You didn’t tell me son-in-laws are invited,” I say.
“Oh, you’re talking about Nzalo? That one is a family
member, he’s been here all week helping us. God has
given us an elder son, your father always wanted more
sons, someone to be Thami’s friend. Just like you have
Nalenhle as a sister,” she says.
“I see,” I kick more firewood close.
She adds to the flame. I’m a bit hurt, I won’t lie. I don’t
think Xolani being older warrantees the different
treatment. I love Nzalo and love how he loves Nale, I
just wish Xolani would’ve been given the same welcome
and acceptance. But it is what it is, at least he has plenty
of friends and his family trusts him again.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

Nzalo is about to leave, he came separately from Onathi

with his friend, Mhlengi. I’ve been busy, I haven’t seen
them. I go to them to say goodbye but it looks like
there’s something he wants to talk about. Mhlengi gets
in his car and leaves.
We get in the car, people have started leaving.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
I shrug, “Fine, I guess.”
“Your uncle is worried, you don’t look happy at all.
Apparently this is the same thing that happened during
your mother’s funeral, there was a lot of tension, and
that worries him.”
“So he came to you and talked to you about it?” I didn’t
want to escalate anything, I’m not creating any tension, I
have been keeping to myself because I know if I say
anything there will be so much noise.
“He’s just concerned, he wasn’t gossiping,” he says.
“But he knows why I’m not okay, Zola and I had an
argument.”
“He doesn’t know about any argument. What was it
about?”
Honestly, I don’t even want to talk about this.
“She wanted him to accompany her somewhere,
something came up regarding her pregnancy, when he
refused she started blaming me and my dead mom for it.
I’m tired of this theory, everytime they argue my name
has to be in the middle of it.”
“Did you call her out?” he asks.
“I did, I guess that's why they all left in the morning
without saying anything, leaving me and Thami to do
things by ourselves. I get it, I got it the first time she said
it, but I cannot be the cause of her problems forever,” I
say.
“I hear you babe, I understand why you’re not happy.
But at the end of the day you are family and nothing will
be resolved without communication. Talk to her, explain
what you don’t like calmly, she will understand and do
things differently.”
“I don’t know if I really want to do that. I just want a
laptop,” I say.
“A laptop?” That came out of nowhere, right?
“Yes, I want to hustle online,” I say.
“That’s not necessary, I will get you a job when you want
one and you have a place to stay,” he says.
“Which place?” I ask.
He smiles, “I’m renting out a guest room in my house but
because it’s you, you’re my friend, you can stay free.”
“I’m not going to do vat’ n sit Nzalo,” I say.
“Why not? We’ll get permission from elders after I send
lobola and you don’t have to do anything you’re lazy to
do outside our bedroom. You’ve known me long enough,
I’m sure you trust me now.”
“I do, but I want my freedom before we tie the knot. So
no, I will find a room to rent and we’ll continue as we did
before I came back here,” I say.
“Fine, I will move in with kaMaharaj,” he says.
“I don’t care, I’m the matriarch eitherway, she will get
instructions from me,” I say.
He laughs, “Yazi one day they’re going to take me away
from you because you don’t appreciate me.”
“You’re not all that Nzalokayise,” I say.
“Really? I’m not all that?” He pulls me and kisses me
until I run out of breath.
He pushes his hand under my dress and rubs over my
panty.
“Keep her warm for me,” he says.
My clit bounces at the sexiness of his voice.
“I have to go,” he says.
“Nzalo,” I whisper desperate for another kiss.
“Get out of my car Nalenhle, ku-busy ekhaya.”
Mxm! I grab his sunglasses and get out. He’s laughing
at my irritated face.
I have a collection of his sunglasses that I always take
without permission.

I feel okay after seeing him, I think he’s the only person
I’ve held a long conversation with today. Am I the type
that people drag on Facebook? Looking sour because
there’s a ceremony at home. I hope that’s not what
people think, my anger was directed to my family, not
everyone.
“I want to talk to you,” aunty says.
“Now?” I ask.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
I’m not doing anything, Zola is with the girls, I follow her
to her bedroom. I know she probably wants to address
the way I’ve been carrying myself since morning.
“I don’t like what you did today,” she says.
“What did I do?” I ask.
“Carrying a long face and being unfriendly to everyone.
It was your mother’s ceremony, you should’ve been nice
to guests, most people came here to support Nalenhle’s
mother.”
“But you know that I don’t know how to pretend; if I’m
not okay, I’m not okay,” I say.
“What happened? I thought we did everything perfectly,”
she asks.
“No, it’s not about the ceremony, but Zola. I don’t like
how she always pins her misery to me and my mom,
even when she’s dead. And I know she talked to you
about it. I’m one person who didn’t have a perfect
childhood, I struggled a lot, you remember that. But now
my childhood is always being referenced to as if I had
everything smoothly.”
“Can I call her to be here?” she asks.
I shrug, she goes out and calls Zola. I didn’t want to
address this today because I’m still angry and my point
may get lost in the midst of emotions.

They come in, Zola sits down.

“I don’t want Thabethe to notice this tension because it
will get to him and you will both end up saying he’s
taking a side,” she says.
“I don’t talk about anyone taking a side.” I’m not going to
be thrown into things I never utter with my own mouth. If
she wants to address things then she should hold us
accountable for our actions accordingly.
“Nokuzola, you do,” she says.
Zola shrugs; she’s guilty as charged.
“Now tell me what happened; who said what,” she says,
staring at both of us.
I didn’t want to do this, I wait for the real housewife of
Tongaat to share her side.
“I said dad always put me second and he still wanted me
to come after Nale and aunty, referring to the ceremony,”
she says.
Her mom looks at me. “Is that what made you angry?”
“Yes, because how is it my mom’s fault that malume
didn’t want to leave the cow slaughtering for a trip to
Khanyile’s house?” I don’t understand, is he not capable
of making decisions with his independent thoughts?
“I wasn’t saying it’s anybody’s fault,” she says.
“But that’s what you always do, yesterday was no
exception. You didn’t have a problem with me growing
up, we moved out and lived together, we were still okay.
Then as soon as I found out that my dad didn’t exist, you
flipped up and started talking about how I took all the
attention from your dad.”
“That’s not true and even so, you cannot fault me for
when I found courage to express my feelings to my dad.
I was scared of him my whole life. Scared of
disappointing him, so I suppressed my feelings. The
difference between my relationship and your relationship
is clear as a day. As old as I am, I still cry if he shouts at
me. If I express myself to you it’s not because I’m
blaming you, but I cannot talk about my issues with him
without involving you.”
“That’s not fair and you know it. If you want talk about
your issues choose time, don’t wait until I’m doing
something or my mom is having something done for her
then express yourself. Now you’re using me to have
your way with him. I have never met my dad, I have
never had a conversation with my mom, it really pisses
me off when you make it sound like I had a glamorous
childhood. Would you swap places with me if you had a
chance?”
Silence.
Exactly, she wouldn’t want to be in my position, nobody
would.
“You can express yourself without using my name,
unless you want to be me, which I highly doubt you do. I
don’t want to fight with you, you’re pregnant and
stressed. If we fight, at least let it be about issues
between you and I, not your issues with someone else.”
“But I haven’t fought with you Nale, I just said something
you didn’t like and then you shut everyone out. Once
again, I wasn’t trying to hurt you or put the blame on
you. I have a lot going on, dad came through for me,
now let’s move on. It won’t happen again, let’s not ruin
aunt’s day.”
“The day is over anyway, I’m going to wash the dishes.”
I think we’ve hashed it out, I can go back and finish what
I was doing.
“I will wash the dishes, take a break,” aunty says.
“No, I want to,” I insist.
“No, sit down and talk to your cousin.” She walks out,
leaving us alone.

She was the mediator, I don’t think I would’ve been

interested in talking about it if it wasn’t for her.
“The baby is fine for now, Xolani is coming on Tuesday,”
Zola updates me.
“That’s amazing, I guess,” I say.
“It’s not amazing because I might discover something I
won’t like. I saw Nzalo, they really like him,” she says.
“Yeah, he forced himself down their throats.”
“I think they’d like him anyway, he’s the perfect son-in-
law. I can’t say the same about Xolani, he was hated
from day one.” One thing about Zola, she will always
play “spot the difference” even when it’s unnecessary.
“Are you going to be offended if I say they’re not
expected to follow the same rules?” she asks.
“I will call you delusional,” I say.
“But it’s the truth,” she says.
“Zola, you’re also allowed to break the rules, just make
sure you will be able to stand the heat that comes with
consequences. Nzalo and I are always ready.”
“We have enough drama going on in our lives,” she
sighs heavily. “Before I give birth I want to take dad out
to a daughter and dad trip, I feel like we need to talk
away from home and everyone. I don’t want issues like
these to keeping coming up when there’s a baby
around. I don’t want any bad blood, I love him and I’m
blessed to still have both parents.”
“That will be good because honestly, your fights are
getting tiring.” It’s been the same shit for almost a year
now, we need fresh family fights. Maybe someone
breaking someone else’s cup, not this expired tasteless
fight.
“What about you? How are you moving forward? I mean,
really moving forward,” she asks.
“I have,” I say.
“I don’t think you have.”
Really now?
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 108
NOKUZOLA
He’s respected in every room he enters. He always
stands tall and shines. But not here, here he becomes
small and uncomfortable. As much as he’s been
accepted and welcomed, I don’t think he will ever be
truly embraced and he knows it.
His head is bowed as soon as my parents walk in. It was
important for him to start here and hear from the elders
before we proceed to Khanyile’s house. Mom sits next to
me on the grass-mat, dad sits next to the door on a
chair.
They greet him, he responds in a lowered voice. It may
look like a sign of respect but I know that my dad is
probably the only man he fears in this world.
“I’m sure Nokuzola has briefed you about what was said
to her by two different gifted people regarding the baby
she’s carrying. Her mother and I accompanied her to
Khanyile to have a second opinion and he confirmed
what the first person said. I’m not going to speak into
Hadebe matters but you have our permission to take her
to Khanyile and do whatever is needed for the baby to
be okay and your house to be safe,” dad says.
“Thank you,” he says.
“That’s all from me, I don’t know if her mother wants to
say anything.” He looks at my mom.
She clears her throat, “Nothing much, I just would like to
know if the Hadebes believes in isintu and follows it?”
“We try,” Xolani says.
“Is there anything you will do to make sure that
Nokuzola doesn’t end up like the previous Hadebe
wives, dead or jailed?”
I’m surprised by the question, I’d expect it from her
husband. It does raise eyebrows that no Hadebe wife
lived happily ever after, even Xolani’s mother, but none
of it had anything to do with Xolani.
“It’s not a curse or anything like that, there were
circumstances and family internal issues. Nokuzola is
safe and I will always make sure that she is. You have
nothing to worry about.”
“Her dad is worried,” she says.
I knew it sounded like something he’d pay attention to.
“Thabethe, umh, nothing is going to happen to
Nokuzola. She’s a special woman to me and to the
Hadebe name,” Xolani says.
A moment of silence passes, I don’t know if they believe
him.
“Kuyezwakala,” dad says, just acknowledging that he
said something without necessarily believing or not
believing him.
Nale brings the juice, he doesn’t like it that much, he
drinks half of the glass and then we leave.
.
.
.
Khanyile’s house is not far, it’s a walkable distance. Dad
informed him about us, he’s already waiting. I’m a bit
scared, I don’t know how I’m going to feel if I find out
that Robyn was really pregnant with his child. She’s
dead, she won’t answer any of my questions.
“You came back with him?” Khanyile smiles.
He’s friends with my dad, he was the one to strengthen
the kraal after my lobola was brought.
“What’s your surname?” he asks.
It’s just the formalities, he already knows.
“Hadebe,” Xolani says.
“Oh, Bhungane! Makhulukhulu!”
We sit down while he gets his working space set up.
Xolani seems to be at ease, I thought he’d be nervous
because he doesn’t know the child talked about.
“The old man says there’s a child that left before his feet
could touch the ground, leaving by your hand. His soul is
looming around, lost,” Khanyile says.
“By my hand?” He sounds confused.
“That’s what the old man is saying. You know what you
did and why there’s family blood on your hands,”
Khanyile says.
“Which blood? The baby’s?”
“Different blood, including your baby’s.” Khanyile sighs
and then starts groaning heavily. “Do you want privacy?”
“No, she’s my wife…almost,” Xolani says.
There’s something deep here, that's why Khanyile is
giving him an option to kick me out. I just hope it’s not
something that’s going to change how I see him.
“Whose blood is in your hands?” Khanyile.
I thought it was an accusation but the man next to me
looks ready to talk.
“It belongs to those who wronged me and made my life
miserable,” he says.
My stomach turns. He’s confessing to murder, telling
Khanyile that he murdered them because they wronged
him. He doesn’t see anything wrong, he’s justifying it.
“Did you get cleansed?” Khanyile asks.
“No, I have never raised my hand to kill anyone,” he
says.
“That doesn’t matter, imphefumulo yabo ibuzwa kuwe.
The child was your blood, isende lakho, so you can’t
ignore that it ever existed. You killed him in his mother's
womb. Acknowledge that and get cleansed, I will write
down everything you have to do.”
“Okay, thank you,” he says with a heavy sigh.
Khanyile groans again, then shakes his head. “You have
a heavy heart. Why do you hold so many grudges?”
“The only way not to hold a grudge is if you get an
apology,” he says.
“But it’s not good for you. Ubopha kakhulu inhliziyo and
then your light shines and dims. You’re happy but not all
the times. You’re your own enemy.”
Silence.
“Forgive your father,” Khanyile says.
Nothing, just a deep sigh.
.
.
.
He parks beside the gravel road, just a few yards away
from home. I deserve to know the truth, about the child
and all the people he didn’t forgive and killed.
“Who are you, Xolani?” I don’t know who I’m marrying.
How many people have died because of him? Am I
safe?
“Ngiwumyeni wakho,” he says.
“Not yet, we are not married.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I can still decide not to get married to you. I don’t want
to marry a murderer,” I say.
“What did I say to you before we even started?”
“I don’t remember,” I say.
“Didn’t I tell you that I’m not perfect?”
“You call killing people an imperfection?” I can’t believe
this. A serial killer is calling his actions imperfection, just
imperfection.
“I don’t kill people unless I’m wronged to a certain
extent. My brother, Sbusiso, hurt me more than anyone
beside my parents. I loved Phindile, she was one thing I
had in my life at the time. I didn’t have a family that
cared for me, I was struggling everyday. He had the
house and the money, all the cars and a wife that loved
him to death with three beautiful children. But he still
came for that one thing I had, took my business plans
because I didn’t have funds to carry them through, and
destroyed all my dreams.”
“So you killed him?” My heart is heavy, I understand how
deep his scars are but to me nothing can ever justify
murder.
“Robyn did, instructed by me,” he says.
Maybe this could’ve happened after I give birth. I’m
seven months pregnant, I don’t need this kind of
information. How am I ever going to look at Nzalo and
Lwethu knowing that the man I sleep with everyday is
the reason why they don’t have a father?
“That night when I left she had threatened to talk about
every business we did together to specific individuals,”
he says.
“So you killed Robyn?”
“Mbuzeni did, it was a deal between us.”
“Then why did he kill himself afterwards?”
“He didn’t,” he says.
I need water, I grab his bottle, I hate sparkling water but
I drink it.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Am I okay? Are you kidding me? How many people
have you killed?” This man doesn’t care if you’re family
or woman, he kills mercilessly.
“Does it matter?” he says.
“It does. Are you also going to kill me one day?”
“Why would I kill a mother of my child?” he asks.
“You had Robyn killed after she fought your battles,
killed for you and stuck by your side for years. And she
was also the mother of your child.” Now I understand
why she couldn’t let go, they went through a lot together,
she did so much for him.
“She wasn’t doing me favors, we worked together,” he
says.
It’s alarming that he’s not remorseful or even touched by
the fact that she was carrying his baby.
“You really don’t have any regrets?” I’m shocked.
“I won’t lie, no I don’t. I will do what I need to do
regarding the baby but even God knows that I never
intended to have a baby with Robyn and I made sure it
didn’t happen for years. I don’t know how she fell
pregnant and why she decided to keep it.”
I’m lost for words. Robyn wasn’t my favorite but nobody
deserves what she went through.
“Have I answered all your questions?” he asks.
I shake my head and look outside the window. Can I live
with this? Is he going to kill everyone that betrays him
and does him wrong?
“Nothing is going to happen to izibulo lethu. What I want
you to do is keep the Thabethe matters and Hadebe
matters separately. I told you that I needed umfazi when
we met, do you know what that means?”
I know what that means but it’s not a term he can use to
silence me.
“Why did Thobile die?” I ask.
“I don’t know, I didn’t kill her, you know her killers,” he
says.
“I guess what I’m trying to ask is, did she do anything to
make her husband go to MaMkhwanazi who ended up
killing her with his help?”
“I don’t know,” he says.
“But she was the only person in the family who liked you
and you have fought tooth and nail for her justice until
now. Why was that so important to you?”
“I wanted Phindile to pay for what she did,” he says.
“Did you ever sleep with Thobile?” I ask.
“Thobile was not that type of woman. She was loyal to
my brother and…”
“Yes or no Xolani,” that’s all there’s to say. I just need a
one-word answer.
“Yes,” he says and takes a deep breath, resting his head
back on the seat.
I blame the day Nale involved herself with this family.
Right now I can’t even say who was more wrong; they
betrayed one another and both have bloods in their
hands. Thobile slept with both and died, MaMkhwanazi
slept with both and went to jail, and Robyn slept with this
one and ended up dead. And for some reason I was
angry when my parents asked if I’m safe in that family.
“What time are you coming home?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Please make it before 5pm.”
I open the door and climb out. My head is pounding, this
was too much to sit and listen through. I understand why
dad wasn’t okay with us getting married. It’s a lot to just
join a family and become a member, not knowing their
full history. I’m used to family feuds, my grandmother’s
family hates my mom, Nale and I fight after every two
months, now there’s a little girl dating Thami that we’ve
joined hands in hating. But nobody sleeps with one
another’s partner and kill each other. No, I don’t know
anything like this, my family is perfect compared to this
and I need to appreciate how much we love each other.

Dad is hardly indoors during the day, he’s one person I

wanted to avoid but unfortunately he’s here. I wanted to
be by myself for a moment but I can’t just walk past.
They’re waiting for feedback.
“How did it go?” mom asks.
“It all went well,” I say.
“Did you get all the clarity you needed?” She wants me
to share what Khanyile said and I can’t.
I cannot confide to my parents about the Hadebe history,
in fact I cannot confide to anyone. I have to go to the
grave with it, that’s what Xolani wants. That’s the burden
I have to carry along with the wedding ring he’s going to
put on my finger.
“I got clarity, he’s going to sort it out, Khanyile gave him
all the necessary information,” I say.
“Oh, that’s good.” She doesn’t look satisfied with my
answers.
“I want to take a nap,” I say.
“No problem, but eat before you do.”
I nod and get up to go to the kitchen.
No, I need to say something.
I turn around, “Baba,”
He looks up.
“I understand everything you said.”
“About what?” he asks.
“About being with Xolani and marrying him. It’s not easy,
I have to accept and keep a lot of things I wouldn’t be
comfortable with on a normal day.”
“At least now you understand that I wasn’t standing
against your happiness, I was just concerned about my
daughter,” he says.
“I understand, thank you.” I only have a couple of hours
to decide whether I’m going to Xolani Hadebe before
5pm as he requested or not.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 109
NALENHLE

It’s funny how Zola failed to understand why I had to run

back home only to end up doing the same. There’s no
place like home, this is where we are safe and know we
are cared for. I have been expecting Mr X to show up
but he hasn’t. I don’t know what she found out from their
visit to Khanyile, for the first time she’s not sharing
anything with me. We have discussed the Hadebe
matters before, I share everything about them from my
side, the only thing I have kept to myself is what
happened between Msindisi and Musa.
“Naleee!” she yells from her bedroom.
I take a glass of water and sugar to her. I’m addressing
this today, she’s forgotten where she is. I give her, she’s
making sugar water.
“This is not Mr X’s house, you know that right? You don’t
have a maid here. You get your own food, help clean the
house and wash your plate after eating.”
She rolls her eyes, “I’m pregnant, not lazy.”
“Pregnancy is just a cherry on top, you bottom chairs.
Maybe you need to ask Mr X to send a maid for us,” I
say.
She chuckles and sips her sugar water slowly.
Something definitely happened and it’s deeper than her,
otherwise she’d be ranting.
“What happened? You were supposed to leave on
Tuesday,” I’m curious.
“Are you kicking me out?” she asks.
“No, I want you here, but I’m sure everyone is wondering
why you haven’t left yet. Have you come back home?”
“I’m still a Thabethe, I’m not forced to live at the
Hadebes. I’m just exercising my right before I either get
married or decide otherwise,” she says.
This is serious, she’s even thinking about not getting
married.
I’m more curious than before. “Who did he make a child
with?” I ask.
“Robyn,” she says.
“Fuck! That’s why you’re mad.”
“Not really, I don’t care about that anymore. I’m just
rethinking about changing my identity and becoming a
part of that family, making a vow to leave only in a
casket.”
“But you knew what marriage is before you accepted his
proposal.” I don’t understand why she’s acting like she
just discovered this.
“I didn’t know who the Hadebes really are,” she says.
“Tell me, who are they?” I’m also getting married to that
family, I deserve to know.
“Dark, twisted family; full of grudges, secrets and
restless spirits,” she says.
“No family is perfect, look at us. I’m my grandfather’s
daughter, he was buried away from home for over two
decades, and we are with uncle and nephew which is
automatically father and son in our culture.”
She laughs, “That’s fucked up but I dated Xolani first,
Nzalo shouldn’t have persuaded a relationship with you.
But we are not messy as the Hadebes, trust me.”
“I’m still going to marry Nzalo and become Nalenhle
Thabethe-Hadebe,” I say.
“I’m not sure about marriage, I just want to give birth and
see what I do afterwards.” What was revealed about the
Hadebes really shook her. If it concerned Nzalo she
would have told me to caution me, so I know it’s just
about Mr X.
.
.
.
My mom’s ceremony went well, I owe Nzalo a visit. I
also haven’t thanked him for everything he did for me
from the first day of preparations. I blasted him for not
supporting me during the funeral, I have to keep the
same energy when he does something good.
The tricky part is asking for permission and putting out
the exact time I will be back home. My uncle is out with
his cows, I prefer asking his wife, not him directly.
Zola is now taking a nap, she will wake up looking for
her Tongaat maid to send around. I look for aunty and
find her behind the house, washing her husband’s
overalls.
“Can I ask something?” I say.
She stands up straight, “What is it?”
“Can I visit Nzalo? I will come back tomorrow.”
“I never see you going to the clinic but you are always
visiting Nzalo. Are you preventing?” she asks.
I didn’t expect this question.
“I am,” I say.
“I’m serious Nalenhle, don’t be like me. I never got to
enjoy your uncle, it didn’t even take a year for me to fall
pregnant with Nokuzola. Three years later we had you
from Bazamile, then Thamsanqa. It’s never been just
him and I.”
“We both don’t want to have a baby, so we are careful
and we use protection,” I say.
“Good, because you and Nokuzola have twin tendency
and we don’t need a second grandchild. Niyakhulumisa
futhi nalamasoka enu,” she says.
“But I don’t involve you guys in my relationship issues," I
say.
She gives me a side eye.
Ok, maybe I do here and there, but it’s not everytime.
.
.
.

NOKUZOLA

I need time to myself, just to absorb everything and

reset my brain. Xolani hasn’t asked why I didn’t go back
on the day he said. I love him, that’s the glaring truth I
cannot run away from, but loving him doesn’t mean
jumping everytime he says jump. If I go back before I
give birth it will be on the day I decide.
Nale just left, she’s going to Nzalo. As noisy as she is,
Nale takes care of the house and makes sure that I don’t
go hungry. Today and tomorrow is hell for me, I have to
do every little thing for myself because I can’t ask my
mom. I drag myself to the kitchen, I want a cup of warm
milk.
Mom is on the table chopping spinach, I’m sure it’s a
treat for her husband.
“Wenza kahle wavuka,” she says, she’s been waiting for
me to wake up.
I hope she’s not about to ask me why I’m home.
“Did you fight with Hadebe?” she asks.
“Not really,” I say.
“Oh, you both agreed that you will be here until you give
birth?” It’s normal for a woman to go home when she’s
almost due, but I’m still two months away.
“No,” I say.
“So there was a fight?”
“No, I just need to clear my head, uzoba strong.”
“That’s not how things are done, if there’s a problem we
have to call him to a meeting and discuss it. The
relationship is not just between the two of you, he’s paid
your father everything.”
“You make it sound like I’m a cloth that was paid for.” I
don’t like how, all of a sudden, I can’t make decisions in
my relationship without informing the elders.
“Uyingoduso yomuntu, you’re someone’s fiance, you
can’t act like a girlfriend. And you’re carrying his child,
you need to at least give us clarity,” she says.
“There’s no clarity, I’m here to clear my head.” I no
longer want the hot milk, let me disappear from her face
before things go south.
.
.
.
I turn on the TV and watch a random show. Dad walks
in, complaining about one of the cows. His life revolves
around his livestock.
“Kudliwani lay’khaya?” he asks.
“I don’t know, I will check with your first lady.” I have to
face my mom again, sigh.
She’s still cooking the spinach.
“Dad wants something to eat,” I say.
“I’m still cooking, give him bread and juice.”
“I have to do it?” I ask.
She turns around, “Do you think it will make itself?
Hhayi-bo Nokuzola, this is not Hadebe’s mansion, wash
your hands and do it.”
Phewww!
I get it together and serve his royal highness, Thabethe.
“Where is Nalenhle?” he asks.
“She went to Tongaat,” I say.
“Okay,” he starts eating.
Nzalo is liked a lot here. I also like him, he’s good to me
even when I’m not good with Nale.
“I’m here to clear my head,” I say.
He looks up, slightly frowning. “What does that mean?”
“I just needed to be away from the fast life, I’m telling
you just in case people ask questions. After all I’m not
married yet,” I say.
“I know that, I don’t think anyone is going to ask why
you’re in your father’s house,” he goes back to eating. I
don’t think he understands, I’m talking about the
Hadebes, not village people.
“Mom thinks I need to report to Xolani,” I say.
“Why? Doesn’t he know that you’re here?” he asks.
“He knows but he wanted me to go back on Tuesday,
before 5pm. I didn’t communicate afterwards, that’s part
of clearing my head,” I say.
“You’re home, it’s your right to be here, but every
relationship needs communication. Are you sure
everything is okay?” He sounds a bit worried.
“Yeah, everything is good. I just wanted to be home with
my parents, getting some attention as a child for the last
time, in two months I will be a parent.”
He chuckles, “No, here you will always be a child.”
“But you’ve always treated me like an elder, someone
who knows what she’s doing and knows how to make
the right decisions. That was until I got in a relationship
with Xolani, then you started doubting my decisions.”
He takes a deep breath, “Sometimes you realize other
things late in life. I still trust your decisions but a part of
me needed to realize that you’re a child, my child. No
matter how good you are at looking after yourself you
still needed my guidance as a father. So when I finally
tried to do that, we clashed, inkonyane yethuka isisinga,
you weren’t used to me challenging your decisions.”
“So you’re not mad at me for misbehaving?” I ask.
“Misbehaving? No, you don’t know how to misbehave,
you just complain and cry. There’s a master, Nalenhle,
every chance she gets she tries to send me to an early
grave.”
I laugh because the harsher he reacts to Nale is the
more thrill she gets.
“You’re good and I’m blessed to have had you, because
if you didn’t help me as much as you did, I would’ve
probably hung myself with a rope and died.”
“What do you mean?” We don’t ever talk like this, so I’m
interested, this conversation takes my mind off stressful
things.
“I was 19 when I had you Nokuzola, your mom was 16.
My mother had a daughter that depended on her for
everything, your aunt. My father was a drunk, everytime
he came home there would be a fight. He really loved
me though and he made it clear that I was his favorite
child. So I had made a 16 year old girl pregnant, your
grandmother was depressed and always fighting with
her husband while taking care of a disabled child. It was
a mess, your mother was panicking because her parents
were strict.”
“Jesus Christ! What did you do?” I ask.
“I looked for a job, luckily I happened to be your
grandfather’s golden child, so he helped me pay what
was due to your mother’s family. And it was during those
old times, marriage was essential especially when there
was a baby in the picture. My mother also needed a
helper, so we had to…”
“Really, Thabethe? Really?” mom walks in, her hands on
the waist.
“He didn’t say anything bad,” I interject.
“It’s not bad when he makes it sound like he married me
because of circumstances, not love?”
But that’s not what he meant, anyway what do I know?
“I’m talking to Nokuzola,” dad says.
“No, don’t make it sound like you married me because I
had a child and your mother needed a helper. You were
begging for my attention, camping outside my parents’
house with your one blue shirt everyday.”
Sigh.
I can’t believe they’re really arguing over this.
“You still came out to my one shirt and disobeyed your
parents.” If dad shuts up this argument will die, honestly.
“I had options Thabethe, I had people who drove big
cars begging for my time. Even now I still have men
asking me to stop and turn around in town.” She’s such
a dramatic wife, I don’t think any man does that in town.
I mean, with her gold ring that’s almost the size of her
finger and umhezo that’s always across her chest, every
man knows that she’s married. Thabethe laughs, he
knows it’s just a lie.
She returns to the kitchen and comes back with his food.
His spoon in a glass of water and plate covered on a
tray. Do I feed Xolani after an argument? It looks like I
still have a lot to learn about marriage.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 110
NALENHLE
I went to Tongaat and woke up in Fraserburg. I didn’t
even get a chance to call home, out of province for me is
international, so I can’t be this far without letting my
family know. There’s no emergency, it was only in
Nzalo’s head. Msindisi doesn’t open up to him, neither
does Lwethu, but still that doesn’t give him a glimpse
about what kind of a brother he is. I’m sure Lwethu and
Msindisi talk about everything and hide some things
from him. So we came here because ever since Msindisi
left KZN he’s never set his foot back again. He can’t be
that busy, Lwethu fell pregnant within three months of
leaving home, so his guard is up. Hopefully when we go
to his apartment we don’t find him in a situation that we
found Lwethu in, cohabiting with a pregnant girl.
I’m about to make a phone call, I get distracted by a
naked man walking out of the bathroom.
“There are towels in the bathroom,” I say.
“Hhayi-bo,” he says, running some lotion on his arms.
“Hhayi-bo ini? I’m trying to call my aunt to tell her that
I’m here.”
“But I’m not holding you,” he stands in front of the mirror
and checks his small bum-bum out.
No, I can’t make a call to an elder while there’s a naked
man in front of me. I respect my aunt too much to
disrespect her like that. I put the phone down, he
glances at me and chuckles.
We have freshened up to go to Msindisi’s apartment,
he’s going to be home after 4pm. His is not a surprise,
Nzalo texted him and told him that we are here.
He closes the curtains and comes to my side, standing
in front of me with his dick dangling on his thigh. This is
a punishment, I don’t find a dick cute unless I’m horny.
“Why are you making a face? Please suck me,” he says.
“We are about to leave.” I don’t want to suck a dick. Not
before I go to meet new people, Msindisi’s circle.
“We are not rushing to work. Awufuni?”
I sigh, “I’m tired.”
“Okay,” he climbs on the bed and pulls the towel around
my waist off. I’m cute, I took a shower and put my
underwear on. I only need to put on a dress and I will be
good to go.
“How do you think I survive?” he asks, lying between my
legs.
“What do you mean?” I know exactly what he wants,
yesterday we had to get ready for a trip here and we
didn’t do much other than kissing.
“I haven’t had sex this month,” he says.
“Me too,” I say.
Men like acting special, a month is only four weeks.
“So why are you surprised that I want to nut?”
I let out a heavy sigh and push down my G-string. He
helps me and takes it off one leg, then brushes my
mound. I shaved clean yesterday before I left home, I
thought I’d get some last night, that’s when I was
prepared.
“Awuzenz’ istarring!” he says, smiling at it.
“I didn’t shave for you,” I say.
“Do you fuck yourself or you are keeping it for someone
else?”
I don’t respond, he spreads my vaginal lips and runs his
pink finger between the folds. His face goes down, he
keeps it spread and runs the tip of his tongue through
the folds. Anytime his mouth gets in contact with a place
it shouldn’t be on, I hold my breath.
“Relax,” he says.
I breathe out. He pushes my knees up and dedicates his
tongue to my clit. Sucking, gently biting and nibbling on
it. He’s not doing this to turn me on or give me an
orgasm. No, it’s for his own happiness, he’s moaning
with every lick. He sticks his finger in my opening and
then licks off every juice that comes out.
“Babe!” my clit is throbbing like it’s about to burst in his
lips.
“Mmmmm,” he moans in my cookie.
Fuck, I grab on the sheets and try muffling my screams.
He pushes in the second finger and moves them
around, tapping on my soft spot. His lips pull my clit,
then he beats it with his tongue. My legs tremble, my
body is letting out a steam. He pins me down, I’m never
still during an orgasm. He restricts my movements until
my body calms down.

The veins on his temple are bursting out. His eyes are
tiny and teary. If I don’t give him anything I won’t see
heaven, there’s just no way I will enter.
“Ow baby!” he moans before I even touch him.
He’s breathing with his mouth open. He grabs me from
getting out of bed.
“Skoon babe, please,” he looks ready to cum.
We don’t do it raw unless it’s urgent and in inappropriate
places. I don’t take chances, I never forget to take a pill
the next morning. He doesn’t even wait for me to be in
position, he pulls my leg up and gets in while I’m lying
on my arm, almost breaking myself.
It doesn’t take long before he starts vibrating like a
Nokia 3310.
“I’m cumming baby wami, I’m cumming!” He doesn’t
bother pulling out until his whole load is inside me. I
need another shower and address to the nearest
pharmacy.
I turn around, he kisses me out of breath until I gently
push him off.
He brushes my cheek, “We’ll continue when we come
back. I love you, uyezwa?”
“I love you too,” I say.
“Let’s keep our love burning like this. I will never break
your heart. You make me happy more than I ever
thought I will ever be.”
I smile, “Really babe?”
“I love you more than you know and you’re my best
friend. I know I can talk to you about anything and you
won’t judge me,” he says and quickly corrects himself.
“No, you judge me but still stay with me.”
He knows me too well.
.
.
.

Msindisi has a nice apartment, I just find this

neighbourhood too quiet and creepy. He gets us from
the parking and oh child, he looks good. One thing
about him, he’s always been neat. He has grown hair,
braided it and cut on the sides. He’s in a white T-shirt
and saggy black pants.
The first few minutes are fantastic. They are hugging
and commenting on each other’s looks like normal
siblings after not seeing each other for a long time.
“Hello,” he says to me.
“Hey,” I shake his hand.
We went from talking almost everyday about life and
everything to no communication. We didn’t have a fight,
it was all good, even the misunderstanding we had was
ironed out. I didn’t understand why he was leaving but I
understand now. But I have a lot of questions.
We make our way in, it’s a two-bedroom apartment with
a kitchen and small lounge. It looks organized, just like
he is.
“Are you planning on coming back home when it’s our
funerals?” Nzalo asks.
He chuckles, “Not really, I just need to make time. Let
me get you drinks.”
“Okay, I will check out this place.” Nzalo is now snooping
around, Msindisi doesn’t stop him, they head towards
different directions.

Msindisi comes back first and gives me a glass of red

wine, he knows the drill.
“How have you been?” I ask.
“I’m okay. And you? How is life in the village?”
“Peaceful,” I say.
“You left after me?”
I nod, “Yeah.”
He looks at me but doesn’t say anything.
“I thought you’d stay to attend the court case,” I say.
“I didn’t need to, I had to move on from that situation
before I lost myself in it.” He makes sense; he was
turning worse than Nzalo.
“You look happy,” I note.
“Thank you,” he says.
I sip my wine, when I raise my eyes he’s looking at me. I
can’t ask him what I want to ask, it's sensitive. He also
can’t just tell me without asking.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“About what?” I ask.
“All the confusion I created.”
Nzalo comes back, our conversation is cut short. He’s
asking about something in the bedroom, Msindisi gets
up and follows him back to the bedroom. I gulp down the
whole glass. I didn’t think I’d be this uncomfortable,
otherwise I would’ve refused to come with Nzalo.

They’re gone for quite some time, Nzalo comes back

and grabs his phone then returns to the bedroom. I
guess they’re catching up on family related matters. I lie
on the couch and try to edit my videos myself, I need to
upload new content.
He comes back again, this time he looks angry. He asks
that we step outside and talk. I’m just confused.
“What are you not telling me?” he asks, evidently
furious.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Msindisi is apologizing, saying you were talking about
having a relationship.”
My stomach turns. “We were talking or he was talking?”
“Whatever it was, did it happen?” His grabellar lines are
dipping into his forehead.
He’s holding on tiny hope before blowing up.
“I don’t understand,” I don’t know why Msindisi would
apologize for that or even bring it up.
“Uk’shelile ubhuti wami, yes or no?” he says.
I shouldn’t have come here, my uncle didn’t bless this
trip.
“Yes, but he was confused and going through a lot
emotionally, so I dismissed it.”
“Okay,” he walks back in.
I follow him in and sit on the couch again.

I can’t even look at Msindisi because why the fuck would

he start apologizing? He didn’t leave because of me and
he’s definitely not coming back home because he’s
ashamed of what he did with Musa, not because of me.
“I have been doing a lot of self introspection and one
thing that stood out is how I made you uncomfortable
and betrayed my brother, not just with you but Musa as
well. I’m really sorry,” he says.
I have nothing to say to him, really.
He looks at Nzalo, "I'm sorry bhuti."
“Ngiyakuzwa but I don’t understand how you crossed
that line. You don’t do that even to your friends, how
much more a brother? You looked at my girlfriend in that
way and asked her to dump me and be with you?”
“Can we not do this?” I ask. I don’t want to be a subject
of their back and forth.
I didn’t tell Nzalo anything because I was avoiding a
stupid fight on my name. Now he apologizes for leaving
home using what happened as an excuse? Fuck this
shit.
“I’m hurt,” Nzalo says.
I look at Msindisi. Is he happy now?
“Nothing happened, I was just telling you why I’ve been
avoiding home,” Msindisi says.
“No, not by you. I don’t trust you anyway, you dined with
someone who wanted me dead and told you about it.”
He takes a deep sigh and turns his eyes to me,
“Nalenhle, for real?”
“It wasn’t deep,” I say.
“Let's go,” he says.
I don’t care what explanation Nzalo demanded, this
shouldn’t have come up. I don’t say goodbye, I follow
Nzalo out, we get in the car and head back to the BnB.
.
.
.
This is now an uncomfortable position that Msindisi has
put me in, not what he did in the past. After standing in
the window for moment, he comes back and takes out
his T-shirt.
“So you left because isesheli sakho was gone too?” he
asks.
“I’m not going to fight with you or answer such
questions. If you don’t know me by now, you will never
know me,” I say.
“Don’t play poems with me, Nalenhle. My brother, my
blood, asked you out while you were in a relationship
with me and you didn’t tell me to make him stop. Instead
you bought gifts for him, disregarded my request for
boundaries and went back to the village after he left.”
“So what are you trying to say now? That we are a
thing?” I ask.
“You’re not honest and this time it’s not funny. You kept
leading him on and I told you because even I could see
that you were making yourself too available in his time of
need. Sekmele sithethe amacala abafana manje? And
not just any boy, my brother. I don’t do that Nalenhle, I
live a very straightforward life and I give you all the
assurance in the world, you know that I only have eyes
for you. I refuse to play my fathers’ script, it almost
destroyed the family.”
“But it’s already playing, making me look like I’m the
reason you guys have an ugly relationship, like I’m the
person standing between you,” I say.
“The moment he said he had feelings for you could’ve
cut him off but you didn’t. You could’ve told me but you
didn’t. He left, you said there was nothing left for you in
Tongaat and left as well.” His voice breaks, I understand
how deep he’s hurt. “And you expect him to think what
we have is genuine?”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks,” I say.
“I care how you make people think of our relationship. To
me it matters, don’t make me look stupid because I’m
not stupid, and you’re not going to like it when I show
your little friends that.”
“Okay,” I’m not going to match his energy.
This is not how I thought this trip would start, I guess it’s
what happens when you travel across the country
without letting your family knowing. I needed their
blessings.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 111
NALENHLE

He was angry, I understand, but leaving me alone at

night in a foreign place shouldn’t have been his way of
expressing himself. I was scared, I called home and told
my aunt. She was mad at first, asking how can I come
here without letting her know, it’s far and anything
could’ve happened during the trip and they wouldn’t
have known anything. I think she called him from her
side because it didn’t take an hour before I heard a
knock. He didn’t speak to me, he got in bed and slept. I
could smell that he’d been drinking.
I wake up to a breakfast delivery, he’s already freshened
up and dressed. I take a shower and dress up too, I
packed my bag yesterday and blocked Msindisi’s
number, he will be blocked for eternity.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
He keeps quiet, I know this side of him very well. When
he’s mad he blows everything out of proportion, I
wouldn’t be surprised if he takes Msindisi and I to some
test.
“It breaks my heart that you reduced my mental wellness
to just one factor, something I didn’t even take to heart,
and you assumed that I went home because of Msindisi.
Then you forgive Msindisi and hold everything against
me.”
“This has nothing to do with how you feel. I don’t care
how you feel about it, so don’t waste your time telling me
how you feel. And you’re not going to dictate how I deal
with it,” he says.
“That’s cool,” I’m trying to make peace and he’s standing
on what he said yesterday after forgiving Msindisi on the
spot.
“Having a loud mouth doesn’t mean you’re always right.
I told you to create boundaries and you made it look like
I was a bad brother, knowing very well that my instincts
were right. Buying him gifts and making me look jealous
for thinking it was inappropriate. Now you want to bring
mental health into it, mxm.”
“Nzalo, you’re not going to like it if I fight with Msindisi
over this. Trust me, he won’t just change provinces, he
will leave the country this time around. Your mother will
turn in her grave, I wasn’t holding anything against him
but now you are making me hate him.”
“You only bark, you don’t bite, ungazenz’ dangerous,” he
says.
“Okay,” I say.
Msindisi is now marked, hopefully him and I never share
the same space again because it will go down. He
wanted this to happen, there was no need for him to tell
Nzalo all this, as if it’s some big secret between us. I
wouldn’t have taken him seriously even if he wasn’t
Nzalo’s brother, I have never dated a soft boy in my life,
let alone one who’s younger than me.

Zola calls me, checking if we are okay this side.

Obviously we are not, Nzalo is blowing things out of
proportion as usual, so we are already preparing to
leave.
“How are you and Mr X?” I ask, her life is more
interesting.
“He hasn’t said anything, which is alarming at this point.”
“Maybe you should reach out,” I say.
“No, he should reach out to me, I’m not the wrong one.”
“Sometimes it’s not about who’s wrong and right, just
make peace and…”
There’s a chuckle next to me. “Dr Phil!”
This is childish.
“I will call you back when I’m free,” I say.
“Okay, be safe,” she ends the call.
I look at him, he’s childish as fuck.
“Come to me directly, don’t be a coward,” I’m tired of the
side talks.
“Eat,” he says.
Fuck him!
.
.
.

We touch the Tongaat grounds at 9pm, I have no choice

but to sleep over. We are not talking unless he’s
throwing a side comment. I freshen up and call my aunt
to tell her that I’m sleeping here. I was supposed to be
back home two days ago, I know I have a lot to answer
when I get home. But even that doesn’t scare me, I can’t
wait to leave in the morning.
He comes out of the bathroom, whistling. I pull up the
covers and go through my videos. He moves around for
a few minutes then I hear him sitting on the bed.
“Madam,” he taps my back.
Haven’t we fought enough? Nothing can be resolved at
the moment, emotions are high.
“Madam,” again, he’s tapping my back.
I lift my head up. “I’m tired, Nzalo.”
“So am I, but I have to know if you understand why I’m
hurt.”
Well, here we go again!
“I understand,” I say.
“And?” he asks.
“And what?” I want to sleep.
“You’re not going to take responsibility and acknowledge
that I feel betrayed by you again. You did the same thing
after finding out that Musa wanted to kill me. Yes, it was
great that you told my uncle, but you’re my partner and I
prefer to hear things like this from you. I thought you
understand this back then, if there’s something I need to
protect myself from let me know, be the first one to warn
me.”
“Wouldn’t it have looked like I’m turning you against
each other?” They hardly ever get along, I didn’t want
their relationship to bite dust because of me.
“Who would have thought that?”
“People,” I say.
“Which people? You know what I don’t like babe, you are
always concerned about protecting Msindisi. I know you
didn’t tell me because you wanted to protect him and
you always do that at my expense.”
I take a deep breath, it is well with my soul. “I’m sorry,” I
say.
“Why do you do that Nale?” he asks.
“Because he’s younger and you don’t think when you’re
angry.”
“I don’t think?” He seems surprised.
It’s a known fact, he burns everything down when he’s
angry.
“No, you act on your emotions. I think everyone had a
rough year but Msindisi is soft and he’s been confused
most of the times. Now he regrets what he said, he was
just confused when he tried what he tried, imagine what
would have happened if I reported him to you? You
would’ve hurt him, I know you.”
“I hear you, but still you acted weird,” he says.
“I guess I understood him more than I should have and I
should have distanced myself from him after that
incident. I just care about people and I don’t know how
to turn my back on people when they need my support.
I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“Thank you. Can we hug now?” He opens his arms, we
hug. I can’t believe I was wrong, I still feel justified in a
way, just narrowly.

He lies on his back and pulls me to his chest. I draw my

initials on his skin, it’s good to be good again.
“Do you know why I came to see you in the first place?” I
ask.
“No, why?” His fingers are running on my back.
“I wanted to appreciate you for what you did for me the
past two weeks. You made a lot possible and helped my
uncle so much. I’ve been having good dreams of my
mother ever since her ceremony was done.”
“Really babe?”
“Yeah, I have dreamed of her dressed up in a new dress
and spraying perfume under her arms. She was
obsessed with perfumes. I interpreted the dream as her
being in a happy place.”
“What about you? Are you in a happy place?” he asks.
Am I? I cross my arms on his chest and rest my head.
I’m thinking about it, fortunately he’s not rushing me to
answer.
“I am happy,” I say.
“But…?” he asks.
“There’s no but, I am happy. I was just hoping that at
some point I’d know what she would’ve sounded like. I
don’t think I will ever make peace with the fact that she
never called my name. I wanted to have a father my
whole life but I don’t think I wanted that more than
having a talking mother. If my mother talked I wouldn’t
have wanted my father.”
He rubs his hand on my back, breathing heavily. “I can’t
imagine how you feel sthandwa sami. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m just sharing,” I say.
“Thank you for sharing with me. I wish one day you can
start looking at your mother’s abilities and not dwell on
what she couldn’t do. We all want our strengths to be
highlighted, not our weaknesses or rather the things we
cannot excel in. Not every mother is able to carry a baby
for nine months and naturally deliver. Not every mother
can feed from their breasts, that’s why there’s baby milk
in shops selling. And we all expect mothers to naturally
fall in love with their children, but that’s not always the
case. I’d assume that your mother was a strong woman
for bringing you on this earth, that’s number one.
Number two, you were born under difficult
circumstances, other women give up babies born in that
way because they don’t have the mental capacity to
coexist with them because of the trauma. But your
mother kept her baby and from what you’ve told me
about her, she dearly loved you.”
“She did,” I nod, my eyes are watering.
I know how strong she was but my mind just dwells on
what she wasn’t capable of doing.
“Isn’t that more valuable than her disability?” he asks.
“It is,” I say.
“Then don’t remember her as a mother who couldn’t talk
or see, just remember her as a loving, strong mother
that she was,” he says.
I feel bad, it shouldn’t have taken me this long to
highlight my mother’s capabilities and strengths. I
should’ve celebrated her more, instead I was busy
fussing about finding my father because I was obsessed
with a parent’s voice, meanwhile there are children with
normal mothers but they don’t experience a mother’s
love.
“I love you,” he says.
I lift my face, his chest is wet with my tears. “Thank you,
Nzalokayise.”
I’m thanking him for loving me and understanding me
the way he does, I didn’t think anyone beside my uncle
and his wife would ever get the kind of a person I am
and embrace me with all my imperfections and
sometimes-too-loud personality.
“Don’t call my whole name,” he says, smiling.
“Why not? Your uncle calls you that.”
“Yes, when he’s angry. So you’re making me feel like I’m
about to receive a punishment,” he says.
“Mmmm.” I love this, it’s going to be my new technique
of torturing him.
.
.
.

He should drop me off and leave, but no, not him. He

thinks I’m exaggerating when I say my aunt is more
vicious than a pitbull when angered. I have been away
for four days and the agreement between her and I was
that I come back home the next day. I know she's mad
about me going to Northern Cape without letting her
know, given the fact that she granted me permission to
go Tongaat without my uncle knowing, so if anything had
happened she would’ve gotten blamed.
I wanted to face her alone, I know how to deal with her
when she’s angry, but Nzalo is coming in with me.

Zola is outside, washing something with her feet, she’s

just stomping on the cloth.
“Here comes the two criminals,” she says.
“Is it safe for my girl to be here?” Nzalo asks.
“I don’t know,” she laughs.
I just know they’re waiting for me inside.
I make my way in, Nzalo is behind me.
They look up simultaneously, as always.
Why am I seeing a sjambok leaning on the wall?
I stop and ask, “Whose sjambok is that?”
“It’s mine, ngenani,” my uncle says.
I’m not stupid, I stop. Nzalo proceeds in and sits where
aunty shows him.
“Uyayithwala lendlu yami?” my uncle urges me to sit
down.
I’d rather die on my feet than die sitting down. Death will
catch me running.
Nzalo clears his throat, “Good morning.”
“It’s 12pm mfana kaHadebe,” my uncle says.
“Oh, good day. We thought we’d be here at sunrise,
Nale couldn’t wait to come back home. In fact she
wanted me to bring her back yesterday but it was late.”
“Yesterday?” my aunt raises her eyebrow, turning to look
at me. “When did you say you’d come back?”
“Saturday,” I say.
“And on Saturday night you called me in Joburg,” she
says.
“It wasn’t Joburg, it was…”
“Oh, master of Geography. Wherever you were, you
didn’t tell anyone you were going. If anything happened
to you who would have known?”
“I was flying, there’s no signal in the air,” I say.
“Congratulations,” she’s furious. She looks at her
husband, “Over to you, Thabethe!”
I know my way to the door. Nzalo quickly calms down
the situation, Thabethe was almost on his feet to get his
sjambok.
“I told her not to use her phone,” he says.
“Why?” they ask simultaneously.
“She didn’t know where we were going either, it was a
surprise and I didn’t want her to ruin it,” he says.
“A surprise to go fight her in Joburg and leave her alone
at night?” my uncle.
Not every far away place is Joburg, but who am I to
correct them?
“We had an argument, my mother always advised me to
walk away and calm down than to stay when my
emotions are too high, to avoid saying things or doing
things I might regret later. I wasn’t abandoning her, I just
needed to calm down and I did apologize to her when I
came back.”
“That’s understandable, but you were still in a foreign
place and we didn’t know anything about it. That’s
disrespectful and reckless,” my uncle says.
“It won’t happen again malume, I promise, siyaxolisa,”
Nzalo.
I think things would’ve gone south if he didn’t come in
with me. Now I can walk in and sit down with this heavy
bag.
Nzalo has to go, he has a thing to attend at 3:30pm.
“You have to drink juice first,” aunty says.
“Thank you aunty but I’m running late, I will drink it next
time,” he says.
“Okay then, drive safely,” she says.
He looks at my uncle before standing up. “This is a
beautiful sjambok malume, can I have it? This type
doesn’t sell in my town, it looks like a piece of art.”
“Ngubane sells them, he stays across the valley. You
see how he decorates the end? He mixes different wires
and…” they walk out, he’s gifting it to Nzalo.
Finally, I can breathe. What my Nzalo can’t do doesn’t
exist.
“You two really think we are old,” aunty says.
I don’t know where this is coming from, honestly.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 112
NOKUZOLA

Being home is good for me, emotionally wise, but it’s a

lot physically. There’s just always something to do and
my mom is on her queen era, sometimes she just sits
and expects everything to be done for her. Yesterday
she only got up to cook for her husband, I had to cook
the main meal from scratch. Nale is back, I can finally
breathe.
Dad and I went back to Khanyile for a concoction that
helps ease labor pains. I have heard about its side-
effects, sometimes people deliver before the baby is
ready and it ends badly. I know it’s something I need to
discuss with the father of the child before I use but him
and I are still not talking.
I have poured some and threw it away, so that they think
I’m drinking it. I don’t want to look ungrateful.

Mom walks in, her eyes go to the bottle first.

“Is it not too bitter?”
“Not at all,” I say.
“The one Khanyile gave me when I was pregnant with
your brother made me puke everytime I drank it.” She
sits on my bed and looks at my belly as I get in my
sleepwear.
“You’re really going to give birth to a boy.”
“Mom!” sigh. I have told everyone not to tell me what
gender it’s going to be, it was supposed to be a surprise.
“It shows; your nose and navel. We should be thinking
about names, I don’t know why you’re so slow,” she
says.
I know when she’s talking like this, she already has
something in mind.
“What have you thought of?” I ask. Xolani and I haven’t
started anything, I actually want him to give the first
name.
“How about Mzwandile? I was going to give it to
Thamsanqa as his second name, it would be a good
honor to give it to my grandson.”
I laugh, I don’t mean to mock her but WTF, Mzwandile?
Even Thamsanqa is weird on him because he’s young.
“It’s meaningful,” she says.
“I know but my child is going to be in school as years go
by. No child in this century wants to be called Mzwandile
by his peers,” I say.
“It’s a good name, don’t give him these trending names
that turn boys into dagga boys. Have you talked to
Hadebe?”
“No,” I say.
She sighs, I already see the look of disapproval.
“Do you want it to be resolved, whatever it is?”
“It will be resolved, ma.” I’m not interested in talking
about my issues with Xolani.
I cannot share them with her, it will permanently ruin his
image. So there’s no point because she won’t
understand why I’m angry at him without getting the
details.
“I don’t want you to be a single mother,” she says.
“I don’t think I’d be a single mother even if we don’t work
out.” I know he kills even his own blood with no remorse
but I believe he’d take care of his child regardless of
how our relationship turns out.
“Be careful not to push away a man who loves you.
There are things you have to put up with in a
relationship and some shames you have to cover up as
a woman. No man is perfect, you can go all around the
world searching, you will find none. It’s rare to find a
man that elevates you the way he has.” She’s singing
praises, only because she doesn’t know that MaNdlela
doesn’t have a son because of her son-in-law.
“Another thing, you have to make him want to come
home to you,” she says.
“If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to,” I say.
“Listen to me, I’m giving you an advice. I know you don’t
cook or clean for him, but that’s no excuse, your
presence still need to be loud in his house. Have you
ever seen your father sleep out?”
“No,” I say.
“And why do you think he doesn’t? Because there’s
something special about home. I make it homely, in the
kitchen and in the bedroom.”
Yikes!
“Ma, please,” I don’t want to hear their bedroom
shenanigans.
“Yes, you have to be a woman, you need to know these
things. Keep your man happy and the best way to do
that is to boost his ego. How do you boost his ego?
Respect him, when he comes home make it look like
your life has been on pause in his absence, be lively.
Serve him, ask about his day, get in the bedroom and
massage his foot.”
His foot? I hope she means the real foot.
“That sounds like a lot of work, I’m heavily pregnant.”
“Make efforts,” she insists.
I know I’m not going to win this argument with her, so I
eventually just agree with everything she says.

I have reduced my TV time, I sleep earlier than usual

and wake before 10am everyday. We join everyone in
the lounge and watch TV, there are soapies no South
African family miss.
Thami goes out to pee and comes back saying there’s a
black car parked by the road. It’s after 8pm, that raises
eyebrows. Nale steps aside and calls Nzalo, then comes
back looking relaxed. It definitely not Nzalo, maybe
someone else within the neighbors.
“Maybe it’s Mr X,” she whispers to me.
“I doubt.” I have also checked my phone and he hasn’t
sent any messages.
“What if it’s robbers?” she asks, loudly.
Everyone looks puzzled now. I feel a bit uncomfortable, I
know which family drive black cars. I ask Thami to
accompany me so that I can confirm if it’s not someone I
know.

His lights are dimmed, as we get closer I start

recognizing the car.
“Should I leave?” Thami asks.
“No, come,” I don’t know if I can trust someone who just
parks in the dark.
I walk to the window and knock; it rolls down.
It’s him, wearing a white cap and Sundowns jersey.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask.
“Nothing, just parked,” he says.
“You’re scaring my family. What’s going on?”
“With what Nokuzola?”
Really, is this what we are doing now?
I look back at Thami, “Please tell them not to worry.”
He runs back home, I don’t want him to see this
clowning from a grown man.
“Xolani seriously, you can’t just come here unannounced
and park your car near my father’s house at night,” I say.
“I will park somewhere else,” he says and starts the
engine.
“Wait!” I release a deep sigh, I shouldn’t be outside at
this time while I’m this pregnant, it attracts bad spirits.
“Why are you here?”
“Why should I explain myself to you? Did you tell me
why are you here?”
“I’m home, there’s a difference,” I say.
“I said I will go and park somewhere else since I’m no
longer allowed anywhere near your father’s house but
my cows are allowed in his kraal.”
Pheeww!!!
“Do you want us to talk?” I ask.
“About what? What’s there to talk about?”
“Don’t act shady, my family is here and I don’t know
what your intentions are.” I will never trust a serial killer
who just parks around my home at night with no
explanation.
“I have no intentions, just here to be around just in case
anything happens to my baby since you decided not to
go for your maternity check-up appointment.”
“It wasn’t that important and I rescheduled,” I say.
“Okay,” he says.
“Is that all? My family wants to sleep.”
He scoffs, “How am I stopping them?”
“Xolani, this is disrespectful. Would you like it if Purity’s
babydaddy came and did this around your house?”
“If your father tells me to leave, I will.”
This is not going anywhere, he’s here to start a fight and
he’s disregarding my family’s peace while at it. He
reverses and parks just one yard away. At this point the
whole village will be alarmed by this strange car parked
in the dark.

I return back home, hoping they are all gone to beds, but
it looks like they’re waiting for me.
“Is everything alright with Hadebe?” dad asks.
I want to ask him to go and chase Xolani away, but I feel
like it’s going to be dramatic for no reason.
“Yeah, everything is okay,” I say.
Mom looks at me suspiciously. “Is he still here?”
“Yes, I will pack my bag and leave with him. The car will
be here, I will make a plan for it to be fetched,” I say.
“Is he here to fetch you by dark?” dad.
“No, there’s an emergency back in the house.” I hate
him for making me leave this way.
I love my family, I don’t want them to be involved in
Xolani’s madness because I know things may escalate.
And he kills, so I don’t want to take any chances. I get in
my room and start packing.
The door opens, Nale has followed me.
“Is everything really okay?” she asks.
“He’s acting weird, I don’t want anything to happen to
you guys.”
“Zola please, how weird? Is he angry?”
“No, he’s not but he doesn’t want to tell me why he’s
here. He’s changing the parking spot instead, he doesn’t
want to leave. What if he comes and burns our house?”
“Come on, Mr X is not crazy,” she laughs.
“He is crazy. Please keep your phone close, I will call
you if he does anything strange.”
She stops laughing and frowns. “Are you serious? If you
feel threatened we should call the police.”
“No, I will call you if he does something. I’m not saying
he will, I just don’t trust him. Don’t tell anyone, please.”
“Jeez!” she blows out a sigh.
“Promise me, Nale.”
“Okay, I won’t tell anyone.”
.
.
.

He knew I’d come back, he didn’t ask why I had my bag

or why I left my own car behind. As soon as I got inside
the car he drove off. We just arrived and he hasn’t said
anything to me. The house feels empty and cold. I won’t
lie, I do feel scared.
I came all the way here in my pyjamas, I’m exhausted
but I’m not getting in bed until he talks to me. He’s in the
balcony talking to someone on the phone.
My own rings, it’s Nale.
I answer, “Hey, I was about to call you. I arrived safely.”
“Is everything else okay?” she asks.
“We haven’t spoken, he’s outside talking to someone on
the phone.”
“I’m not sleeping until you tell me it’s safe to be there.
Can I talk to him when he comes back to the room?”
I know Nale can handle this with a few insults but I want
him to talk to me, not her.
“No, it’s okay,” I say.
“Are you scared?” She sounds concerned.
“I am,” I say, truthfully.
“I’m not going to drop, put the phone upside down next
to you.”
I do as told, she might hear things she’s not supposed to
hear but she won’t sleep unless she knows for sure that
I’m safe.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 113
NOKUZOLA

He walks inside, looking down at his phone. I’m sitting

on the edge of the bed. He sits on his side and charges
his phone.
“Xolani,” I’m scared.
He takes a deep breath and turns his eyes to me.
“Why are you acting weird?”
“By doing what?” he asks.
“Threatening my family, silently as you did. Now you’re
making calls and not talking to me after I packed my bag
and followed you here.”
“I didn’t threaten your family and I’m making calls
because I have businesses that are running at this time.”
“They felt threatened,” I say.
“Really? Nokuzola, you were supposed to be here on
Tuesday, last week. I waited for your call, any
reasonable person would call and inform their partners
about their decisions. You stay here with me but you
couldn’t tell me you have decided to move out and go
back home. Weren’t you mad at Nale about the same
thing?”
“It’s different, Nale didn’t find out anything about me, she
wasn’t scared of me when she left.” This is weird, she’s
listening to us.
“So you’re scared of me? What have I ever done to
you?”
“You’re capable of the things that you’re capable of and I
don’t feel safe.”
“What am I capable of?” he asks.
“Really? You know very well what you told me that day.”
“None of it had anything to do with you or your family.”
“Even so, show me that you’re a human, don’t be
nonchalant about things like that.”
“So you want me to apologize for protecting myself
against my brother?”
“Robyn,” I say.
I don’t want Nale to hear about Nzalo’s father.
“You didn’t even like Robyn, now you’re mourning her
death and fighting for her justice? Nokuzola it took you
months to love Onathi, a child that was created before
you. You wouldn’t have accepted Robyn’s child if it was
mine, but now you’re fighting me? I know it’s not
because you care about all those people, my brother
hurt me, Robyn could’ve destroyed me, and you’re just
using them to fight me because you’ve told me many
times that you don’t love me. And I keep choosing not to
believe you, so now you are doing everything in your
power to make it hard for me to love you.”
“So you want me to just accept and smile? Xolani you
killed a pregnant woman and your own brother, your
blood!” I’m getting emotional, all I want is him to be
sorry, then I will know he’s going to change and be a
better person.
“I had my reasons, Nokuzola!’ he says, his voice rising.
I break into tears, how am I family with such a man?
How can he not see his wrongs?
“I never had anyone protecting me my whole life. I had
to stand up for myself, it won’t make sense to you
because you have parents who love you and siblings
who would kill for you. You don’t know how it’s like to be
alone, to have everything taken away from you by
someone who was supposed to protect you. That’s why
it’s easy for you to use that against me, to hurt me with
my past.”
Didn’t we talk about that? I apologized for what I said.
“Sbusiso had 56 years to make things right and
apologize for the way he treated me. He never did, even
on his deathbed I wasn’t invited, he had my ex-girlfriend
next to him. His bills were paid off my creativity and I
was a mockery for being a loser. Until you experience
anything I have been through, don’t talk to me about
apologies and forgiveness. I’m not sorry and I won’t
forgive someone who never apologized to me. I love his
children to death, I will protect them and make sure they
do things right and don’t turn out like him. Greedy and
allowing a woman to get between them, and that’s the
only thing I can do for him- loving his children. Not
apologizing, not sorry!”
He's never raised his voice at me like this, his hands are
shaking. I still don’t think what he did was right but it’s
okay, I will let it rest because it’s poking old wounds.
“Are you going to acknowledge Robyn’s baby?” I ask as
calm as I can be.
“I got cleansed, her and I weren’t married so the child
would’ve belonged to her family.” He’s not a kind person,
that’s one thing I’m discovering. He doesn’t feel pain for
losing a baby simply because the mother threatened him
to expose his secrets.
“Is this how you’re going to always deal with people who
hurt you or betray you?” I ask.
“I don’t know but all I know is that I will never let anyone
treat me the way I was treated when I was a nobody. I
will always protect myself by any means possible,” he
says.
In short, he’s not going to stop having his enemies killed.
My mind switches to the phone and I quickly grab it and
press the power button. Nale has already heard a lot
though, I got too emotional and forgot she was still on
the line.
“Were you recording me?” he asks.
“What? No, why would I do that?”
“Because you hate me, give me the phone.”
“No,” I’m not giving him my phone.
He grabs it from my hand, now this is taking an ugly
turn. I said no, he’s violating my privacy.
“What’s the password?” he asks.
“You have no right to be going through my phone, I told
you that I wasn’t recording you,” I say.
“Nokuzola unlock this phone!” he says firmly.
I’m not unlocking it, I didn’t record anything and that’s
the word he should trust. I blink once and see it flying
and smashing on the wall. I let out a scream, its pieces
scatter around the floor. He smashed my phone, with all
my contacts and memories inside.
“Why did you break my phone?” I’m shaking, that’s how
angry I am.
“Because you cannot betray me and by keeping a
recording of what I said you will be tempted to.”
“I didn’t record you, what the hell Xolani?” I cry loudly
and openly.
I’ve had this phone for a year now, I bought it with my
hard-earned money and he decided to break it because
he thinks everyone is after him. Why would I keep a
recording of his dirty laundry?
He squats on the floor and removes the sim card from
the broken skeleton. He takes his phone from the
charger and removes the sim card and inserts mine. But
I want my phone, the one he broke, not his.
.
.
.

It’s midnight, I’m sleeping on the couch in the lounge

downstairs. I just opened my eyes to Nzalo standing
over me. He hands me the phone, I put it on my ear.
“Zola,” that’s Nale.
“Hey, I’m okay,” I say.
“What happened? The call ended and I couldn’t get hold
of you anymore,” she asks.
“Xolani smashed my phone on the wall and broke it, he
thought I was recording him. I told him I wasn’t but he
didn’t care.” Talking about it bring tears to my eyes.
“He must buy you another one,” she says.
“I don’t want another one, I want the one he broke.”
“But nawe uyasho nje, he broke it,” she says.
Always insensitive!
“I want the one he broke,” I repeat.
I hear a sigh, “Okay, let’s hope he can glue it back
together. I was worried about you, I only told Nzalo
because I was asking him to come over.”
“That’s fine, I appreciate it, now have some sleep.”
Nzalo takes the phone, I can see that he’s worried. I
don’t know where Xolani is, I left him upstairs and came
down here.
“Neighbors are concerned, they heard you crying. Did
he hurt you?”
“I was crying because he broke my phone,” I say.
“You’re pregnant and sleeping on the couch, that’s not
right. I will ask him to leave the bedroom for you to sleep
comfortably.”
“No, it’s his house,” I say.
“Let me call him…” he disappears in the stairway.
There’s a phone next to me, the one I refused, he’s
forcing it down my throat.

Nzalo comes back with him, my eyes start burning

again.
Nzalo stands, he sits down.
“He’s going to sleep in another bedroom, are you going
back to bed?”
“No, I want my phone,” I say.
“Babomncane, why did you break the phone?”
Silence.
Really?
“He said I was recording our argument and then broke it
because I refused to unlock it,” I say.
Nzalo looks at him judgmentally.
“Thanks for coming, I will let her sleep in the bedroom,”
he says.
“But what is the problem? I’m not comfortable leaving
you in this state,” Nzalo.
“You’re my child, I’m not discussing my relationship
issues with you. Close the door on your way out.” He
doesn’t look remorseful about my phone either.
“Okay then, who are you going to talk to babomncane?
You don’t get along with anyone except us, your cousins
will celebrate and you know it. You don’t have any
brother, I’m the only person you can talk to right now.”
This boy is very stubborn, his uncle also knows it.
“What’s going on is that Nokuzola wants me to beg for
her love. I can’t make mistakes, any little imperfection is
enough to validate her hurting me. I’m not happy, I have
to work for every little affection that I get. I cannot do
anything wrong and expect her to overlook it. No, if
there’s anything Nokuzola will never do, it is
understanding me.”
Nzalo didn’t know it would be this deep. I could’ve
handled the situation differently but nothing makes me a
bad person for taking time out to digest his past. I don’t
think any woman would just laugh and hug a man who
confesses to murder.
“I know a relationship therapist,” Nzalo says.
“I don’t need a relationship therapist, I need someone to
love me for once. I have proven to Nokuzola that I love
her. She cannot sit here and say I don’t love her
because she knows that I do. I want unconditional love
too, just for once,” he says.
“And I want my phone Xolani,” I say.
“I replaced your phone. Can you love me
unconditionally?”
“I do love you unconditionally,” I say.
“Google the word: unconditionally. How many times
have you said you don’t love me, you’re just with me
because you’re pregnant?”
“I said it once. Isn’t what you wanted by sending your
delegate home without my knowledge? Didn’t you want
me to stay with you even when there’s no love
anymore? You wanted something to hold me back,
right?”
“So…so, I’m holding you back?” His voice shatters.
“I’m just pointing out something. You do crazy things and
call them little imperfections Xolani. If I killed somebody
would you call it an imperfection?”
“You wouldn’t kill somebody, we would kill somebody,”
he says.
Gangster love, huh? That’s not what I’m into. I want no
killings.
“And that’s the difference between you and I. I love you,
I can die for you Nokuzola and I’d go to prison with you.
But you wouldn’t do the same for me.”
“That’s true, I’d stay home and take care of your kids
until you come out. I’m not Robyn and I never will be. I
will reprimand you and tell you when you’re wrong. I’m
not the type of a woman who’d help you clean a crime
scene, instead I will hold accountable for your actions
and make sure it sinks into your big head that I will not
tolerate the same behavior in future. That is that, so I
guess I’m not your type after all.”
He takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling.
Nzalo looks confused.
“Thank you for coming over,” I say.
He checks his uncle and gets no disapproval, then
leaves.
We sit in long silence, then he throws away the cushion
and sits up.
“Are you coming to bed?”
“Nzalo said you will sleep in…”
“Yes or no Nokuzola?”
Deep breath!
“I’m coming,” I say.
HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 114
NOKUZOLA

He has a history of murdering people who cross him. He

broke my phone because he thought I recorded him and
I was going to use it against him some day. Then told his
nephew that I didn’t love him, Nzalo will obviously
remember that everytime he sees me. I can count my
fingers out if I had to mention everything that’s wrong
with that man. But it’s now either I stay or leave, and I
don’t think he’d stop me now if I decide to leave. He’s
tired, there’s no fighting spirit left in him.

I have given everyone a short day, I wanted to be alone.

I have never done anything in this house, I have lived
here for months but still nothing identifies me. The
easiest place to start with is the closet. I have to arrange
it the way I want. I should be the one who knows where
his grey socks are, where his blue T-shirt is and so forth.
I mix our coats and add my bracelets in his drawer.
I want people to ask me where things are, the same way
they ask my mom at home. Something about my
presence needs to be cemented.
I rearrange the kitchen and wrap up my rearranging tour
in the bathroom. Then I drive out to town to buy a few
things and fetch my food order. He always stops me
from cooking so I know how he feels about my food. But
I’m going to give it a homely look, just to make my mom
proud.

This dinner set is the first thing I have bought in this

kitchen. I have set up for dinner, I’m just waiting for him
to come home. We last spoke last night when Nzalo was
here, when I woke up in the morning he was already
gone for work. It’s past 7pm and he’s still not home.
Usually he comes home by 6pm, I’m a little worried now,
I have made efforts for him to come home to a lively
fiancé as my mother advised.
I rest on the couch, I’m not used to the phone he gave
me, I have been watching TV almost the whole day.
Finally, his car arrives. I hope didn’t go out drinking, I
need him to see my efforts in sober senses.

He walks in, our eyes meet and he looks sober.

“Hey,” I stand up.
“Hi,” he puts down his bag, looking a bit confused.
I wish I can take his bag upstairs but climbing those
stairs is a problem. So I just help him off his jacket.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“I made dinner and you’re eating before showering.”
“You made dinner?” He’s going to run.
“I didn’t cook it, I made it,” I say.
“You bought the food?” he asks.
“I didn’t cook it, I made it.” Saying it’s bought is reducing
the hard work I put into the preparations.
“Okay,” he says.
He washes his hands and follows me, he doesn’t look
excited as I expected him to be.
I pull a chair, he sits.
“I made livers,” I say.
“Okay, made,” he nods.
“Chakalaka, creamy spinach, short breads and lots of
salad.” I dish everything on his place, making the best
presentation that I can possibly do. He’s looking at his
plate, then at me.
“Eat,” I say.
“Are you not eating?” he asks.
Please don’t tell me he thinks I’m trying to poison him.
I take a fork and eat some from his plate. I already ate,
I’m just showing him that I’m not trying to kill him.
“See, there’s no poison,” I say.
He picks the fork, “I didn’t say there was poison.”
“But that’s what you think. Why would I kill the father of
my little peanut?”
I finally get him smiling. I’m in my full Khululiwe’s
daughter mode, even pouring water for him as he
speaks. I don’t think I will do the foot massage though,
I’m already tired as it is.
Wait a minute!
“Do you notice anything new?” I ask.
“Yes, your behavior,” he says.
“I’m talking about the things on our table.”
He looks around, then shakes his head. My heart
breaks, I hunted for the most unique dinner set and he
can’t even notice it.
“I bought a new dinner set,” I say with my heart broken.
“Oh shit! Yeah, I see,” he’s lying.
“No, it’s fine, I’m not offended.” I am highly offended.
“It’s so beautiful, no wonder the food tastes so good.”
I roll my eyes, I didn’t even cook this food. It’s almost
time for dessert anyway, I leave the table and fetch it
from the refrigerator. I kept my own, we are going to eat
together.
I went an extra mile decorating his with icing, drawing a
heart.
He chuckles, “What’s happening Nokuzola? Yesterday
you hated me, today you’re nice to me and doing things
you’ve never done for me before.”
“I’m always nice, it’s just that sometimes being with you
is challenging. There are things I’m not understanding
enough to ignore. But what you said yesterday to Nzalo
was a lie, you know that I love you, and no matter how
bad things can be I will always end back in your arms. I
think if there’s anything you know about me, is that I
don’t have eyes for any other man and you’re the only
person in my heart. If I’m lying, tell me where I’d go if I
was to leave you.”
“I don’t know,” he’s smiling because he knows the truth.
He’s the only man I’m with, he has my heart, just not my
mind.
“So you really think I don’t love you?” I ask.
“I think you do but when you’re angry you make things
hard for me,” he says.
“It’s funny because there would be ten things and out of
them only two would make me angry and you’d leave
the eight and do the two that make me angry. I don’t get
angry easily, especially with you. I love you and I
appreciate everything you do for me. I know your love
and I’d hope you’d testify on mine too, one day. I don’t
want our love to be toxic, I want us to tell our children
when they grow up about the love that we shared, and I
want them to be inspired.”
He inhales sharply and blows out heavily. “Do you think I
will be a bad example?”
“There are so many great things about you, Xolani. A lot
of them, you as a father, as a man, an uncle and
business owner. There’s so much to learn from you.
However, that doesn’t mean you can’t work on your
weaknesses. For instance, you don’t forgive, which is
fine because you don’t have to fake it if you don’t feel it.
The problem starts when grudges turn you into an evil
person, then there’s no difference between you and the
person who did you wrong.”
“I’m nothing like Sbusiso,” he says.
“He smashed MaMkhwanazi; you smashed Thobile. He
killed the mother of his children; you killed Robyn who
was carrying your child, meaning she was the mother of
your child. See, there’s no difference now because you
allowed anger to control you.”
He takes a deep breath, it’s registering in his head. He
puts down the ice-cream and takes his water, then gulps
it all down. Unfortunately, I didn’t like, he’s everything his
brother was.
“I didn’t want this to be a heavy dinner, let’s talk about
your beard,” I say.
His brows furrow, “What about my beard?”
“It looks like a goat’s beard and I don’t like it.”
“What? It’s not even long.” He takes the phone and
looks at his reflection on the screen. Then he starts
laughing. Yes, it’s not long, but it has a weird shape. I
can’t stand it.

I state problems and give solutions. I take the electric

shaver that I bought, it rotates and has a rechargeable
clipper.
“Wow!” he chuckles, shaking his head.
I give it to him and unpack the second gift of the day.
“Now, on a positive note, I like how you always smell.
Elegant, expensive and loud. I can tell when you enter
the room, you stand out,” I say.
He’s smiling, ego-boosted!
“So I bought you two tickets to the MTN8 finals, you can
only take a male friend with you.” I know it sounded like I
was going to gift him a perfume, nope it’s a new
Sundowns jersey and a ticket that I purchased for him
online, I don’t like to be predictable.
Okay, why am I not getting any reaction?
“Xolani?” I want him to be happy, otherwise I’m returning
all these things.
No, not this again!
I know I’m not usually giving and nice, but he can’t be
emotional everytime I do something good for him.
“Please don’t cry, I can’t get up from this chair again and
come to you,” I say.
He chuckles and wipes his eyes. “I love you so much.”
He gets up and comes to me. I stand up, we embrace
tightly.
“What must I do for us to stay like this forever?” he says,
kissing my forehead.
“Open your heart for the people that love you. Let love
surround your soul and spirit, not pain. That’s all. You
have your brother’s kids, your own kids and this
beautiful tall woman to focus on.”
“Tall, right?” he asks.
My head is below his chest but I dentify as tall.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

It took everything in me not to say anything to my uncle.

I had to respect Zola’s wishes, Mr X doesn’t have a solid
relationship with his in-laws, if they found out about him
breaking Zola’s phone it would’ve been a mess. I’m
relieved to hear back from her saying they’ve resolved
all their issues. However, there’s something I heard that
I cannot unhear. Mr X killed Nzalo’s dad, his own
brother, and he killed Robyn. I don’t feel anything
particularly about the two deceased but the image of him
that I had changed. Who kills a pregnant woman when
there’s a possibility that she’s carrying your child? Mr X
is dangerous.
I don’t know how Nzalo would feel if he found out that
his uncle killed his dad. Maybe he’d be disappointed
because Mr X has been acting like a victim. I don’t think
he’d hold it against Mr X though because if his father
was alive when Musa confessed there’s a possibility that
Nzalo would’ve killed him to avenge his mother.
Is he in my head? Can’t I peacefully think about him?
I pick up, “Hello muntu wethu.”
“Babe can I see you? I just turned into the gravel.”
“Really?” This is a nice surprise.
I’m bored out of fuckin’ brains.
“Yes,” he says, there’s a hint of emergency in his voice.
I rush to my room to change, I quickly comb my hair and
sneak out without anyone noticing. I walk up the road,
we’ll meet on the way.

I see his car and stop under a tree shade. He pulls up, I
get inside and then we look for a safe spot to park. My
man looks handsome; fresh haircut and trimmed beard.
“I have missed you,” I kiss his lips.
“Babe, I’m not here for kiss-kiss.”
“What do you mean?” He mustn’t come here to spoil my
mood.
I have tender lips and I’m a good kisser.
He takes a deep breath, “The pill babe, the pill.”
“Are you on drugs Nzalo?” I’m confused, what kind of pill
is he on?
“We didn’t buy the pill, your pill,” he says.
“I think you’re making a mistaken, I don’t take any
medication.”
He takes a brown Pharmacy bag. “This pill Nale. Do you
think it’s still going to work?”
I faint.
“Nalenhle,” he calls.
Am I supposed to hear him after fainting?
Ok, I blanked out, I didn’t faint.
“It’s been way too long,” I can’t believe I can still speak.
“So what should I do?” he asks.
Son of Abraham! What have I done? How can I
remember to eat and drink water but forget the most
important thing.
“I don’t know. What should I do?” I ask him.
“I don’t know,” he says.
I need to breathe; one long breath. I think pregnancy
test and implanon after I get my negative results.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 115
NALENHLE

I’m diagnosing myself with depression even though I’ve

only been stressed for less than 12 hours. I feel
hopeless, like I’m sinking into a dark place and there’s
no way out. I haven’t gotten out of my room, Nzalo gave
me money to go and buy a pregnancy test and get an
implanon inserted by a doctor. But I’m scared, buying a
pregnancy test felt good when I was buying it for Zola. I
knew I wasn’t pregnant, I just took one to mock Satan.
Now it’s different, I feel like even the cashier will judge
me when I buy it. At this age and time who still sleeps
without a condom?
Damn, I’m losing weight.
“Are you okay in here?” that’s my aunt.
I grab my jacket quickly before she enters the door.
“I’m okay,” I say.
“You haven’t eaten your breakfast. Didn’t you say you
will go and do your hair at Nolwazi's house today?” she
asks.
I have to fake amnesia. “Oh my goodness, I totally
forgot. But it’s okay, I will go tomorrow.”
She looks around, then back at me. “Are you sure that
you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m very sure,” I say.
She sighs and comes to my bed. She knows me like the
back of her hand; she sits and stares at me.
“What’s going on? I hope not another relationship fight,
God help me!”
Well, I always talk to her about everything, she even
knew when my virginity was broken. I don’t think there’s
anything too much to hide from her.
“I think I forgot to drink the morning-after pill,” I say.
She looks at me, doesn’t say a word or react.
I clear my throat, making a way for lies to pass through.
“We tried getting condoms but there was no shop selling
them. It is a very religious neighborhood, so we
thought…ummm…we planned to buy a pill to clean the
next day. But then we had a fight, it slipped our minds.”
“So you didn’t drink the pill?” she asks.
“Yes, I think I didn’t,” I say.
“Are you okay in the head, Nalenhle? What did we talk
about before you left? Do you think every mother, every
aunt, out there reminds their daughters about safe sex
as much as I do? And you still don’t appreciate me and
go do the opposite of what I say.”
“I swear malumekazi, it was a mistake,” I say.
“So, are you pregnant?” She’s on her feet.
“I don’t know but I hope not,” I say.
“Hope doesn’t make a woman pregnant, opening your
legs and not using protection does. Take a bath ke and
get dressed, we will go and find out. You’re lucky it’s the
mobile clinic day.”
“No, I’m going to buy a pregnancy test, I don’t want to go
to a mobile clinic,” I say.
“And I must believe that? You always say you’re going to
do one thing and then do the opposite. Get reaady
Nalenhle, I will go with you.”
Why did I tell her? Sigh.
.
.
.
Knowing that you might be pregnant is one thing, having
your aunt walk you to a mobile clinic to check is another
thing. She’s counting all the times she told me about
safe sex as we climb the hill. I can’t say she’s lying, she
has never been shy to preach safe sex to us, I don’t
know why we are like this.
We reach the clinic, nurses have arrived. What I hate
about mobile clinics is that they're always full of locals
and they’re nosy. I’m holding my breath hoping this
woman I’m with calms down and doesn’t rant in front of
people. Luckily she’s occupied by an old friend who’s
telling her about a troublesome husband. I have
registered, now I’m in the queue for consultation.

I’m getting closer, she abandons her friend and comes

to sit next to me.
“You must tell the nurse that you don’t care about sexual
transmitted diseases and falling pregnant, that’s why
you are here,” she says.
I keep quiet, I’m not saying that to the nurse.
“Have you both checked your HIV statuses in the last 3
months?”
“He’s negative, so am I,” I say.
“In the last 3 months have you checked?”
Sigh!
“No,” I say.
“Then you’re taking two tests.”
She gives me no privacy when I enter the consultation
caravan. We both sit on the plastic chairs, before I say
anything she starts telling the nurse everything. Me
going to Northern Cape, which is Joburg in her words,
and throwing away all my home training and entertaining
Nzalo without thinking about my future first.
“Now, she couldn’t even eat breakfast. Where is the
boy?”
Nurse shakes her head, like I’m a hopeless child and
she can relate to my aunt on everything.
“Let’s do the test, then she will go to the counsellor and
do the other test.” She gives me a container to pee in,
now this shit feels too real and scary.
Is it possible? I don’t think God would ignore when I ask
for Lotto numbers and decide to gift me a human being.
I return with the pee, she dips the stick in and tells me to
throw it away and rinse the comtainer. I wish I could
have been alone, I’m not underage, there’s no need for
my aunt to be present.
She waits a few minutes and then takes the white stick.
She looks at it and then turns it to me. I see them, two
bloody lines, and I run out of breath. My whole world
halts into a stop.
God, not me, please!
.
.
.

I have tried some crocodile tears but it didn’t work. My

biggest fear is telling my uncle. Mine is really getting
pregnant at home; Zola was away, hers is better. I
disrespected my uncle’s house and I know he’s going to
be angry, he just accepted Zola’s pregnancy, now me.
I’m hungry, I take my breakfast to the lounge and eat.
“Are you going to tell your uncle alone or with your
partner-in-crime?”
“I will call Nzalo,” I say.
Nzalo knows how to get my uncle soft.
I try calling him twice before he finally answers.
“I have bad news,” I say.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I went to the clinic and I’m pregnant.”
“Eish babe, yoh! What are we going to do?”
“Nothing, it is what it is,” I say.
“We wanted to travel the world before having a baby. I
don’t know if eight months is enough to do that,” he
says. His biggest worry right now is traveling.
“We will talk about that, right now we need to talk about
you coming here so that we can tell my uncle,” I say.
“Tell your uncle? Yazi babe ngikude kanjani, I’m very far.
Remember I had to go to Port Elizabeth?”
“No, I don’t remember that,” I say.
“I must’ve told you in my head. But I’m in Port Elizabeth
right now and I don’t know when I’m coming back.” I
know his office background wind, he’s not in Port
Elizabeth.
I can’t believe he’s not coming through when it’s most
important. We should tell my uncle together, not just me
alone. I didn’t make this baby by myself.
“What is he saying?” my aunt asks.
“He’s not coming. Can’t we keep it from malume for a
while? I still need to digest it and make peace in my
heart,” I say.
“Just for today,” she says.
I don’t know why she’s rushing to have her husband
informed because she knows that he will be heart
broken.

.
.
.
SKHUNDLA THABETHE

His wife is not okay, at first he just thought it’s a bad

mood but they are about to sleep and she still looks the
same. After taking off his T-shirt, he gets in bed and lies
on the side facing his wife.
“Today you’re almost unrecognizable,” he says.
“I’m just tired, Thabethe,” she says.
“Oh, I thought it was something else.” He kisses her
cheek and looks at her, smiling.
She releases a deep sigh and shifts her attention to her
husband.
“Did you enjoy dinner?” She couldn’t ask at the table.
“Too much nkosikazi but I’m still hungry,” she says.
“For food?” She raises her brows.
He chuckles, “No, I just want sugar.”
They’ve done it two times already this week.
“Uyezwa mama?” he whispers, his hand touching her
breasts.
“They’re still watching TV,” she says.
“They won’t hear anything.” He puts his knee between
her legs and squeezes her big breats. His schlong starts
throbbing, he kisses her on the lips. “They won’t hear
anything dali, ngizothi nje kambalwa and we will
continue later after they have gone to beds.”
She cannot deprive her husband access to the only
organ that makes him cry like a baby. Her legs spread,
Thabethe’s hand slides in between and grabs her thick
labia.
“Mmmm, it’s hard not to miss you,” he says, pushing his
fingers in her core.
Their lips lock, his fingers spreads her wetness all
around her opening. The she lies on her back, Thabethe
lies between her legs and slowly pushes his hard
schlong in. They cannot make any noise; he moans
softly as her warmth embraces him tightly.
“I have been wanting this the whole day,” he says, in a
low whisper.
She moans in response, tightening her arms around
him. He’s deep in her core, her creamy juices spills out
as he thrusts in and out. It becomes unbearable to hold
in their pleasure sounds.
“Oh, Thabethe!” she moans as Thabethe pounds harder
into her.
“Mntakwethu waze wafudumala kamnandi,” Thabethe
groans.
She holds her legs up, Thabethe pulls out, his schlong
coated by her creaminess. He taps it on her hairy pubic
area, shooting his last seeds there. Then he falls down
next to her and holds her tight.
They catch their breaths, his arm thrown around her.
His eyes finally open, he smiles. “It gets better
everyday.”
She blushes, sometimes he makes her feel like a
girlfriend.
“Sinani les’bumbu mntakwethu, mmm?” He teases her,
poking her chubby cheek.
“Nothing Thabethe,” she says softly.
“Your husband is happy, I love you mntakwethu.”
“I love you too, Thabethe.” They stare into each other’s
eyes.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set my eyes
on.”
“Ay Thabethe, stop deceiving me.” She buries her face
on his chest.
Thabethe runs his hands on her back soothingly.
She exhales softly, “Ey my love, Nalenhle has fallen
pregnant too.”
Thabethe stops, “What are you saying Khululiwe?”
“She’s pregnant, my love,” she says, drawing on his
chest with her fingers.
Thabethe takes a deep breath. Are these girls trying to
create a milk factory? This makes no sense at all. Didn’t
Nalenhle learn from her cousin?
“Don’t tell her that I told you,” she says.
“I won’t,” his hand is on her hip.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 116
NALENHLE

My uncle knows something, he hasn’t said a word to me

since his wife and I discovered that I'm pregnant. I’m
disappointed in her to be honest, she could’ve kept quiet
until I’m ready to announce to the whole family. I will
announce, officially, when Nzalo comes forward. He
keeps making work excuses, he wants me to face my
uncle alone, I feel like a single mom already. I can’t say
I’ve accepted this pregnancy, I just find it hard to believe
that someone smart as I am would fall pregnant so
easily. I know better than to let a man hits it raw, I
should’ve insisted on a condom. See where I am now,
alone and pregnant.
“We need to talk,” she says, walking in.
I sit up straight and lower the TV volume.
She sits with a heavy sigh. “We should go and report the
pregnancy.”
Huh?
“Do we have to?”
“Yes,” she says.
“But Nzalo won’t deny his baby and everyone knows
that we are together. He even sent his uncles to
propose,” I really don’t think it’s necessary.
“They came here to count stones, his family should
know that he’s done this kind of damage and pay for it.”
She’s not changing her mind about this.
“But Nzalo has no mother, who are we reporting to?”
“Whoever we find in the family, akaqhumanga etsheni
nje.”
Sigh.
My problems are multiplying.
“I will call and let him know,” I say.
“There’s no need, it’s not a friendly visit. Do you want to
go with me or other young ladies?”
Definitely not other young ladies unless I want this to be
all over the village before I even get a belly.
“With you,” I say.
“Okay, we will go tomorrow.”
I’m not looking forward to it.

Khanyisa is home, we haven’t hung out in a while. We

are friends, just not best friends as we were growing up.
I take a walk, sitting on the couch the whole day will
drive me crazy. I pass by her mother’s house and ask a
child to call her.
She’s glowing and gaining some weight. Work is treating
her good.
“I was cleaning and coming to see you,” she says.
“You can still come, I’m just taking a walk. You look
good, New Universe is treating you better than it treated
me,” I say.
She chuckles, “Having my own money is what treating
me good. Now I can afford to take care of my son, you
don’t know what you did for me.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Where is his dad?”
She laughs out loud. “I’m asking his friends the same
thing. Men run as soon as there’s a baby, never fall into
that trap.”
Only if she knew!
“But is it doable? Raising a baby. Is it not too hard?”
“It’s hard,” she says.
“How so?” I’m curious.
“Kids get sick, they need attention and money to raise.
But it’s better now because he’s grown, a little baby will
drive you nuts. You don’t sleep at all.”
I should have used a condom, this is not a life that I
want.
“But pregnancy and labor is okay, right?” I ask.
She laughs louder. “Are you kidding me? Labor makes
you wish you had committed suicide before those hours
arrived.”
I’m getting traumatizing here.
“Let’s talk about work, this is stressing me out. Have you
met MaKhoza?”
“Yeah, she’s a fierce old woman. I hope you’re not
pregnant,” she says.
I can’t confirm or deny, I ignore and talk about MaKhoza.
That woman used to stress me out. I hope there’s no
dragon lady in my next job, which I’m not sure I’m going
to get this year because of my situation.
.
.
.
NOKUZOLA

I have adopted this new character and I’m loving it more

than him. It makes me happy seeing him shocked and
out of words whenever I get a thing done for him.
Unfortunately I’m terrible at ironing his work shirts, I
need help with that. While his clothes are being ironed, I
make breakfast. Well, it’s just a cereal. But I’m the one
getting everything for him, and I rinsed his spoon. He
comes down in his vest, I have his cereal on the table
and two fruits.
He gives me a cheek kiss and pulls the chair to sit.
“I’m a king these days,” he says, jolly.
“You are a king everyday and I’m a queen,” I sit down
with him.
“I will be back after 12pm, then we can go out for lunch
together. You will be paying, as a queen.” Now he’s
pushing it. But I’m using his card, it’s his money
eitherway.
“Purity is coming next week, she will stay with us until
she gives birth,” he says.
Lwethu is a nice girl, I’m happy she’s coming, I won’t be
lonely when he’s at work.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do after
you give birth between your job and starting a
business?” he asks.
“I want to do both,” I say.
“This is a very good morning sthandwa sami, don’t ruin
it. You know you can’t and starting a business is better
than going back to New Universe and working 8 hours a
day.”
“But I love my job and the working environment,” I say.
“More than being home with your family, calling shots in
your own business and making your own money instead
of being paid?” he asks.
“I will think about it,” that’s all I can say for now. I’m not
making any rushed decision.
I get up to get yogurt from the fridge. There’s a van
outside the gate.
“Are you expecting a delivery?” I ask.
“I don’t know, let me check who it is.” He leaves his
empty bowl and half-eaten apple on the table.
I clean after him, I’m not sure this is what most women
do for their men. Xolani was very discipline before I
started doing things for him; he’d never leave a dirty
bowl on the table.

My mom and Nale?

My chest start pounding. What has happened at home?
They wouldn’t just come here unannounced without any
emergency.
“Let’s go to the dining room,” Xolani suggests.
I’m looking at Nale hoping she gives a hint but she’s
avoiding my eyes. I follow them with a kitchen swap in
my hand and my robe untied. This is freaking me out.
“What’s going on Ma?” I ask.
“Is Nzalo home?” she asks.
I’m confused. What did Nzalo do now?
“He doesn’t live here but I can call him,” Xolani says.
“Well, Nzalo impregnated Nalenhle,” she says.
I almost got a heart attack for nothing. They are so
dramatic, where was the need to hire Nzuza’s van to
come and say something they could’ve said over the
phone?
“Is he aware?” Xolani asks.
“Yes, he is. Didn’t he tell you?”
“No, he hasn’t said anything. But we will talk and do the
right thing.”
She looks at me, I’m on my feet to go back to the
kitchen and ask for help cleaning up and making them
something to eat.
“Uwena umama walaph’ ekhaya?” she asks if I’m the
woman of the house.
“Ma, come on!” I don’t know if she’s trying out comedy or
seriously asking.
“You need to handle this, not Hadebe,” she says.
“Oh yes, my apologies!” Xolani quickly gets off the chair
and disappears.
They’re my family, what the fuck should I say to them?
“Do you have any questions?” she asks.
“No, I have no questions,” I say.
“Ask how far she is and pull up her shirt, then take a
look at her bare tummy to acknowledge the pregnancy.”
I don’t know if she’s dictating or teaching me how to deal
with such in future.
I look at Nale, she looks stressed and unhappy. I was
once in her shoes, I know she’s still scared and thinking
what if she did things differently.
“How far are you?” I ask.
“I don’t know, I got pregnant in Northern Cape.”
I close my robe and cross my legs. “Is he the only
possible father?”
“Are you crazy Nokuzola?” She’s angry.
I look at my mom, usebele wami at the moment.
Is this how she raised her daughter?
“I’m your mother-in-law,” I say.
“Stop using me to practice. Should I lift my shirt up or
she will lift it?”
“Let her lift it,” mom says.
I get up and lift up her shirt, nothing is showing yet. Here
is to the second grandchild! I can’t believe in no time I
will be called gogo because of Xolani.
Nzalo arrives, his eyes bulging out. I think his uncle
called him and he was not informed about this. They
both join us.
What am I supposed to do? Everyone is quiet and
looking at me.
“Nalenhle is pregnant,” I say.
He swallows back hard and nods.
“You know?” I ask.
“Yes, I’m aware. I was going to tell you guys when the
time is right, we just found out this week too,” he says.
“I guess you have to get back to the people you sent
and update them, then we will communicate with the
Thabethes about the arrangements.” Saying this is
weird, I am a Thabethe but there’s no other woman in
this family except me. Even when Nale comes, she will
be a daughter-in-law, meaning all big duties will be mine
alone.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

He’s been avoiding coming to talk to my family but today

he cannot run. Zola walks Mr X out, he’s going to work,
and leaves us with him.
“I didn’t expect this,” my aunt says.
He can’t even look at her. “I’m sorry aunty.”
“So are you ready to be parents?” she asks.
To be honest, I’m not ready.
No answer.
“You will figure it out then, if you weren’t ready you
would’ve avoided it.”
I look at him, he looks heavily distraught.
“Are you good?” I ask.
He nods.
This is it, we need to talk.
Zola comes back, I step out with him.
“Nzalo please, you can’t make it look like this is my
fault.”
“I’m not doing that, I’m just scared for us. We had other
plans.”
“Too bad you wanted skoon, remember?”
“I also wanted us to go on vacation and enjoy life, just
the two of us. I was already looking at accommodation in
Florence, now I don’t know.”
“Where is that?” I ask.
“Italy, I was planning for us to go for two months and
then go somewhere else for another month, wherever
you want us to go,” he says.
“But I’m not even showing, why can’t we go?”
“Medical reasons, I don’t know,” he shrugs.
“Let’s consult first, if we can we will go.”
“I love you and I’m sorry. I should have taken the
responsibility because I was the one who wanted to hit it
raw. Is your uncle angry?”
“He is not talking to me at the moment but he will be
fine.”
Zola and aunty walk out, we are about to leave. Nzalo
returns back to the house, we will talk over the phone
once I get home.
They look at me curiously.
“Why are you smiling? You’re pregnant.”
This woman though, should I cry because I’m pregnant?
“We are going to Italy for two months,” I say.
Confusion.
“On vacation,” I add.
Zola frowns, “No, you can’t go on vacation when Lwethu
is about to give birth.”
I’m not a nurse, why would I stop going to Italy because
of Lwethu’s birth-giving?

HOPELESS PLACES
SEASON FINALE
CHAPTER 117

“I’m tired of being your dirty secret, Msi.”

It was another rant. He used to call his full name, like
most people do, but the moment they started doing
things behind closed door it became Msi. He liked it, he
still does, except that Jamal is becoming more
demanding and persuasive by the day.
Msindisi turned, his eyes landed on Jamal’s tighened
jaw. They were driving up to his apartment, a call from
home is what started the fight.
He was still cute even when he was mad.
“What do you want me to do, Jamal?” Msindisi asked,
admiring his curly hair that had dropped and covered
Jamal’s forehead.
“Tell your family who you are and stop living a double-
life. I’m too old for this shit, I want to live my life to the
fullest…with you,” Jamal said.
“We are living our lives to the fullest, you just want to
invite people to our business. I left home because I
didn’t want anyone to have an opinion about me.” To be
honest, he’s scared of what their reaction might be.
Nzalo was okay with it to some extent because he
believed that he made a mistake with Musa. To Nzalo he
will always be a little brother so whatever he does is
easily deemed as an honest mistake that he can learn
and do better on.
“I want to go on vacations with you, as your boyfriend.
My cousin is getting married in Italy and I can’t even go
with you to his wedding because I’m your dirty secret.”
They had arrived, Jamal was pulling up.
“We can go,” Msindisi said.
Jamal turned his eyes, in disbelief.
“Msi. I’m not just trying to win an argument so don’t shut
me up,” he said.
Msindisi exhaled heavily. “I will go, if that’s what it takes
to show you that I love you and I’m not keeping you a
secret because I’m ashamed of what we have.”
“I hope you’re not joking because I will make flight
bookings right now.”
“No, we will go. How many days?” Msindisi.
“Just one week, you can get that at work.” Jamal’s
happiness couldn’t be hidden; it was overflowing.
He made his way to Msindisi’s door and scooped him
out. They hugged for what felt like eternity.
They just needed to get their paperwork done.
.
.
.
NALENHLE

We flew for over 12 hours, I was flying the whole night

and more, I eventually felt like a bird. It was fun at first, I
was happy changing flights and seeing new places I
never thought I’d ever see in my life. But by the time we
connected in Bologna Guglielmo airport, I wanted to be
done. I couldn’t sleep, I don’t have that kind of bravery to
sleep in a flight. But I felt welcomed, we had all our
paperwork in order, there were no challenges entering
the country.
I needed at least 48 hours of rest but it’s always been
this man’s dream to come to Italy and we only have two
months in this country and three different cities to
explore. It’s basically our second evening in Florence
and we are doing our first tour with our guide, Francis.
He speaks good English, his energy makes me wants to
see everything all at once. He knows the place and its
history dating back to the early 15th century. Our tour
started on the eastern side of the city, now our stop is at
Piazza della Signoria, learning about the Grand Duke of
Tuscany. And we finally get to see the 500 years old
bronze statue of Perseus.

I thought I had an easy start but lately I do feel pregnant

and look different. I have already eaten two schiacciate;
a sandwich with cheese, some cured meat and other
accoutrements. It’s a very popular street food, their own
kota. It’s salty and I can’t get enough of it. Tomorrow is
another day, I’m equally happy to go back to our rented
villa. I just love this place because it’s walkable, we’ll
only either take train or bus when we go to see other
cities. Tomorrow we have another tour, I heard about
climbing 463 steps of the Duomo and visiting the art
gallery.
I bought food when we passed the food market. I don’t
know what it is, just different greasy food packages.
“We have dinner reservations,” he reminds me when I
unwrap what looks like a schiacciata but with different
fillings.
“I know, I will still eat.” My appetite is bigger than it has
ever been.
He looks at me stuffing my face with food, like he feels
sorry for me or something. Ours is a little bundle of
sorrow, we haven’t celebrated him or her, not even once.
We know it’s a healthy baby, the heartbeat is always
strong.
“We have two hours. Are you tired?” he’s looking at my
legs spread on the second chair that he would be sitting
on if my feet weren’t on it.
“I’m fine, we will go,” I say. The restaurant we are going
dine in is just 10 minutes away, I will walk.
“I want you to enjoy yourself, truly. I wanted to come
here but the most important thing for me was for you to
have the best time of your life. We don’t have long, we
have to create the best memories,” he says.
In his mind a baby ends all the fun.
“You know we can go on vacations with a baby, right?”
“But the focus won’t be on you. I know how a baby
changes things, I saw it with my parents when they had
Lwethu. I was already grown, they were in their lovey-
dovey phase and she suddenly fell pregnant again,
there was a big change in their marriage.”
“What changed?” I ask.
“She wasn’t giving him attention anymore,” he says.
Maybe that’s why he paid someone to kill her. Or was
there another reason?
“But you always say they were a happy couple,” I say,
raising my eyebrow.
“They were happy,” he says, not firm as he usually says
it.
“We are also going to be happy. I don’t think anyone can
come between us.” Yes, I’m talking about the little
intruder in my tummy. He or she has nothing to what dad
and I have. We are each other’s number one and we will
always be.
He lifts my chin up and kisses my greasy lips, my mouth
is full.
"I love you," he says.
.
.
.

I’m dining in Gucci Osteria; there’s a prime perch in front

of Gucci Garden museum. And oh, I finally have a Gucci
purse, I’m putting it on my will as soon as we get home.
It’s foodies one side and fashionistas on the other. For
the first time in my life I feel rich. Yes, I’m not paying for
anything but I’m here with all these people, having
lobster rolls and drinking spuma. I’m speaking Italian,
my name is Naliato and I’m happy.
“Don’t drink too much, Nzaliato,” I say.
He chuckles, “You will make me want to leave this place
before time.”
He’s having campari and soda, I don’t want him to get
drunk. It may seem unfair because he’s not a drinker, on
a normal day he’d be having coffee, but for once he’s
letting loose.
“I want to FaceTime babomncane,” he says, taking out
his phone.
I haven’t been able to talk to anyone at home, I was only
able to text Zola upon arrival. Hopefully she called home
to let them know that we arrived safely.

They’re FaceTiming, I’m finishing my dessert- I mean,

dolci.
“Is she okay?” Nzalo asks.
I can hear the worry in his voice. I hope all is good back
in Africa; I stop moving the fork around and pay
attention.
“Thank you,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Wasn’t she
in too much pain?”
I think Lwethu went into labour, poor kid.
She’s already admitted for delivery. Her brother looks
stressed now.
“Should we go?” I ask after their chat ends.
“You’re still eating, it’s not like I can do anything while
I’m here. Zola and babomncane are with her,” he says.
“I didn’t know she was due.” I knew it was this month, I
just didn’t know it would happen two days after we left.
Now I feel like we could’ve postponed, Zola is heavily
pregnant and due next month, there’s nothing much she
can help with regarding a newborn. But Nzalo wanted
this and I cannot travel easily once I’m heavily pregnant.
It’s easy for us to travel now and go back to Africa when
I’m over 5 months.
.
.
.
We have been holdings our breaths since last night.
Counting hours, Lwethu has had contractions for the last
10 hours. Knowing her, I know she’s crying and
stressing everyone in the hospital. I’ve had to force this
man to eat, he’s worried and scared for his little sister.
Finally, Mr X reaches out with good news. They spent
the whole night in the hospital. Nzalo has a nephew, yep
she’s a boy mom. She gave birth naturally and the baby
is healthy. He will be three months old when we return
back home.
“Are you happy to be an uncle?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs.
Hopefully he will be a good uncle.
“Does it kick?” he asks.
I laugh, “No, do you think it already has legs?”
“I don’t know,” he smiles.
He places his hand on my tummy and looks at me. It’s
still unbelievable, isn’t?
One night changed everything; we are mom and dad to
be.
“Are you going to be a good mom?” he asks.
“Definitely. Why would I be horrible to my kid?”
“Sometimes you’re crazy,” he says.
“And you aren’t?” He’s the last one to talk, at least I
keep my thoughts rational even when I’m going crazy, I
don’t do stupid shit.
“I am, just that…” he exhales heavily, brushing his face.
“I’m a horrible brother, Nale. I feel like we both need
intensive therapy before the baby is born. A lot
happened to both of us, you have your moments, I also
have mine. That’s what stresses me the most, I don’t
want anything to go wrong.”
“I don’t think we need to be perfect, you’re stressing
over nothing. But if getting therapy is what going to
make you happy, then we will do it. For now, we have to
enjoy Italy and get as many videos for my vlog.”
“What vlog?” he asks.
“Excuse you, I have a vlog- traveling vlog.”
“Shit, I forgot about that. How many subscribers so far?”
“6, the 7th person unsubscribed,” I say.
He grabs a pillow and puts it over his face. Laughing like
an idiot that he is.
“Tomorrow we are going to Dante’s muse to make
wishes. Mine is obvious,” he says.
I raise my eyebrow, “What’s your wish?”
“Having a baby who dreams differently from mom.”
Right?!
I will get another subscriber, success doesn’t happen
overnight.
.
.
MSINDISI

Jamal booked a five-star hotel, they’re only in Rome for

one week, his cousin is getting married on Thursday in
the Cardinal Gallery. Msindisi is out of the shower with a
towel wrapped around his waist. His lean frame reflects
on the mirror as he brushes his edged-up haircut.
“Msi, you’re only coming to bed,” he says.
Who brushes hair to get in bed? Only Msindisi.
He rubs something on his lips, you will never find him
with chapped lips. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that
someone can be this perfect from head to toe. And so
clean, even when he wakes up in the morning Msindisi
looks fresh.
He unwraps the towel and gets in his boxers. Jamal is
watching and this beautiful sight he’s watching has
provoked certain feelings. He opens his arm, Msindisi
lies on his side facing him. His tender, beady eyes are
Jamal’s weakness.
“I’m jetlagged and horny,” he says, gravelly.
“Both?” Msindisi smiles.
“Crazy, right? I just can’t help myself when I’m around
you, I’m madly attracted to you Msi.” He rubs Msindisi’s
lower lip, slowly the distance between their faces close.
They kiss slowly and passionately.
Msindisi pulls back, “How is your stomach? Still in
knots?”
“Yeah, but I will be fine when I wake up. Then we can go
to Florence tomorrow, you will love it. There’s every
designer store you can think of; Emilio Pucci, Versace,
Gucci, Hermes and lot more. Plus vintage boutiques,
jewellery makers and leather markets.”
“How long is it from here?” Msindisi asks.
“Fastest train is one and half hour.” He squeezes
Msindisi tightly, exhaling heavily.
This is the life he’s always dreamed of. As soon as
Msindisi comes clean about his life they will get to travel
and do everything he’s always dreamed of. Msindisi’s
family doesn't even know that he's not in the country, he
was scared to tell them.
“Do you know the story of Dante and Beatrice?”
Msindisi slightly raises his eyebrow, “The poet who
wrote Divine Comedy?”
“Yes,” Jamal smiles. “There’s a plaque dedicated to
Beatrice, the love of his life, you go there with a flower
and make a wish.”
“You want us to go there?” Msindisi asks.
“Why not? We will be in Florence anyway.”

HOPELESS PLACES
SEASON FINALE
CHAPTER 118
NOKUZOLA

The baby has been crying for over five minutes, I finally
get out of bed to check what’s happening. Lwethu is
asleep, she’s snoring on her bed. The baby’s face has
turned red from crying. I’m not a mom yet but I know a
new mom is not supposed to sleep like this.
I take the milk bottle and feed him. I think I have to
change the diaper as well. He’s tiny but the doctor said
his weight is normal. I guess I’m just used to fat babies. I
take him with me to my bed.
Xolani lifts his eyes. “Where is Purity?”
“Sleeping,” I say.
“How long is she going to sleep?”
How am I supposed to know? She hasn’t changed the
baby even once since we came back from the hospital.
If she can walk to the kitchen to make food she can walk
to the bathroom to the nappy bin. I don’t think she
prepared herself for motherhood.
I sit and place him on my lap.
“Thabiso’s mother said she will be able to come next
week to see the baby, she has no money,” I tell him.
“But she knew all these months that the baby will arrive
this month,” he says. He’s not fond of them, they haven’t
been supportive to Lwethu. Yes, they have no money
but the least they could’ve done is give emotional
support. Lwethu is a teenage mom, she needs a lot of
support.
“Do you still think giving them the baby is a good idea?” I
ask.
“And then support the whole family? That’s what going
to happen, we will send money for diapers and formula,
they will use it for other things. It’s also dumb to send a
baby to the paternal family and then financially support
as the maternal grandfather. They owe us, we don’t owe
them, but see how they are acting!”
“Alright,” I say.
He’s getting worked up, at the end of the day that’s
Owami’s family and babies are sensitive when there’s
tension. I don’t know how we are going to do it but by
looking at how the family has been acting, I don’t think
sending Owami to be raised in Umlazi is a good idea.
Unfortunately his uncle decided to take his girlfriend and
go to Italy. I’m pregnant, expecting my own baby soon,
there’s nothing much I can help with.
“Is Siyanda sleeping here?” he asks, that's the name he
gave the baby.
“Where else would he sleep because his mother doesn’t
even flinch when he cries?” I don’t want a negligence
case, this baby could choke to death and Lwethu
wouldn’t wake up.
“What was that thing they put in her arm?” he asks.
“An implant,” I say.
I had to force her to get it.
“Good!” he’s fed up. He turns to the other side.
We can’t turn off the lights unfortunately, this is going to
be uncomfortable for him.
.
.
.

I expected Lwethu to worry and look for Owami, but

nope. I hear her playing TikTok videos in her room, she
doesn’t care if the baby was snatched by robbers at
night.
“You need to monitor your sleep,” I say.
“Was he crying?” she asks.
“He almost fainted Lwethu and you weren’t even
flinching. He needs a diaper change, they taught you
how to do it in the hospital,” I say.
“I hope he didn’t poop that black thing again.”
It’s normal baby poop, I remember Thami’s nappies
when he was a newborn. In less than a week it’s going
to be normal. I have never seen a mother so disgusted
by her own baby’s poop. It’s not my baby but I don’t gag
when changing him.
“Have you spoken to Thabiso?” I ask.
“Yeah, he called me last night,” she says.
“And what are your plans?” I’d like to know because her
uncle is already mad at the family.
“He sent R450,” she says.
That will only cover a pack of diapers. Fine, money is
not a problem, we just want his family to try.
“His mother said she will come to see the next week, if
she gets the money,” I say.
“I sent them pictures,” she says.
“No, she was supposed to come to the hospital and be
with you.” I slept on the chairs for fuck’ sake. They know
that Lwethu has no mother, they should’ve made it a
priority but all we are getting is excuses.
“I don’t think your uncle will let Owami go to Umlazi,” I
say.
Her eyes widen, “But I can’t drop out.”
“I don’t know then because my due date is around the
corner as well. The least you could do is get used to
your role as a mom, whether you’re going back to varsity
or not, you have to know how to take care of your baby.
You want to build a connection, right?”
“Yeah,” she looks at her phone, notification are rolling in.
I guess chats are more important than what we are
talking about.
She pushes the bottle in the baby’s mouth with one
hand and responds to texts with the other. Children
shouldn’t engage in sex, this is infuriating.

I leave the baby with her and return back to bed. Xolani
took a break, I’m close so he wants to be home just in
case something happens.
I check my phone, Nale finally got her phone adjusted.
She’s sent me a ton of pictures. Italy looks like a
historical place, she looks happy.
“These ones are enjoying themselves,” I note.
“Who?” Xolani.
I pass the phone to show him pictures.
“We have our own trips to plan, you know that, right?
We’ll go anywhere you want, you’re not always going to
be stuck here,” he says.
“I know. Have you checked on Msindisi?”
“His phone has been off,” he says.
“What about your friend, the one who mentored him?”
“I can’t reach him either,” he says.
Now, this is alarming.
“The company he works for?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, let me call Jeffrey.” He reaches to his phone
and makes the call.
It looks like he’s getting disturbing news. Can we ever
live smoothly?
He ends the call with a defeated look. “He’s attending
Jamal’s cousin’s wedding in Italy and he didn’t even tell
me.”
“So everyone is in Italy?” Now I feel left out.
People are in Italy and I’m here expecting a baby in four
weeks and taking care of a new-born whose mother
ignores him.
“Jamal, at his age, takes my nephew and flies him all the
way to Italy without informing me? What if something
happened?”
His temper is unpredictable these days. This Jamal
friendship will end, he’s angry.
.
.
.
NALENHLE
I’m in my movie character era. A lead character for that
matter. I’m wearing my long fur coat that I bought in
Tongaat on special and huge sunglasses- there’s no
sun. We are visiting the Piazza del Duomo. There are
many things to see and so many tourists in line. But if
you’re Nzaliato’s woman you don’t stand in line; yep, he
got us the priority access so we get inside as we arrive.
We paid 8 Euros to climb the 463 steps to the outdoor
terrace at the top of the Dome. There are no elevators or
escalators, there are warnings that you should be
healthy to be here. I have my water and wrapped
sandwich in my bag.
He's holding my hand, we climb until we reach a
walkway that leads us into a big Renaissance painting.
There’s a lot to capture, I’m glad I left Africa and its Big
Five. After 463 steps we finally reach the top and I
suddenly understand why Francis brought us here, you
wouldn’t see this magnificent view of Florence unless
you’re here.
“We need to get married here,” he says.
“Right? It would be beautiful but where would we
slaughter the cows?” I ask.
He bursts into laughter. “You should’ve left the village
girl at the airport.”
I’m not having a wedding without any cow losing its life,
sorry.
He holds my waist and turns me around. It’s not just us
but we’ve blocked out everyone. We kiss on top of
Florence and I feel butterflies all over my pregnant
tummy.
“I didn’t do this formally,” he says, letting go of my waist.
Oh my goodness, in front of all these people?
He’s on his knee, I don’t know where he’s been hiding
this ring because I unpacked his bag.
“I know you said yes, but Nalenhle Thabethe will you
marry me?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” It will forever be a yes.
He pushes a ring on my finger and lifts me up.
It’s not a surprise because we’ve done it before, it’s how
he rebranded his proposal that’s a surprise. I’m happy, I
suddenly don’t feel the steps anymore as we climb down
to properly celebrate with a meal.

It makes sense that we are taking a Dante’s Florence

Tour Walk. After having a light meal; Tuscan canapés
and ice-cream, we proceed to Dante’s muse with
flowers. I only have one wish to make; can the love that
we share never be shaken by any challenges that we
might face? I love him and I know how much he loves
me back. Challenges have come and they’re still going
to come, my only prayer is that our love withstands
everything.
I’m not a fan of poetry so I have no idea who Dante was
and why he’s so famous and idolized. But if throwing a
flower to his love interest, Beatrice, is going to make my
wishes come true, so be it.
“He drew all his inspiration from Beatrice,” Nzalo has all
the information. “She died at the age of 22, he fell in love
with her at 9 years old.”
“He was a psycho child,” I say, most creatives are
pyschos anyway.
“No, he wasn’t a pyscho. They had a beautiful love story
even though they never got married and actualize their
love; they both married different people.”
I’m bored, to be honest. Why are we seeking blessings
from people who weren’t even married? They didn’t get
a happily-ever-after and we want them to bless us with
one?
A gay couple walks past us; it’s two males holding
hands.
“Who is that?” Nzalo.
Probably an interracial couple from Hollywood.
He picks his pace and walks faster. This is not Africa,
you can’t just run after people to ask who they are. We
are all here to make wishes.
We keep up and reach the couple in question, I don’t
know why Nzalo is embarrassing me like this. He literally
blocks their way. You can take an African to Italy but you
cannot take the African out of an African. What is this
embarrassment?
“Babe, you can’t just...” Mameshane!
What are my eyes seeing? Enemies from Africa
following me. What the fuck is Msindisi doing here, in my
city? And who is the white man holding his hand?
“You didn’t tell me you’d be here,” Nzalo.
Msindisi looks shocked, he can’t even get his words out.
“Who is this?” Nzalo needs to let him breathe.
And I don’t know why he looks angry?
“I’m…I am here for the wedding,” Msindisi finally says.
“Whose wedding?” Nzalo questions, raising his eyes to
the white man.
He looks mature, Msindisi could be his adopted black
son.
“This Jamal,” Msindisi quickly says.
We know the name, Jamal is Mr X’s friend, both are
senior citizens.
He smiles, I have to compliment his looks, he’s one of
the few sexy white people I have laid my eyes upon.
“I invited him, it’s my cousin’s wedding,” he says.
Nzalo gathers his brows like he’s about to dismantle his
jaw. I know how he can get out of hand and Mr X is not
here to intervene.
“Let’s go,” I pull his hand.
He doesn’t budge, I put my arm around his waist, too
close to his sensitive areas. A deep breath is taken and
his eyes finally turn to me.
“We will keep in touch, let’s go,” I say.
He looks at Jamal, then at his brother, and sighs sharply.
.
.
.
I didn’t enjoy the rest of today’s tour because of
Msindisi’s situation. Mr X has already been called, he
knows that his friend that he dutied to help Msindisi in
Northern Cape has done more than helping him settle in
his job. They were holding hands, obviously they are a
thing now.
“You said you are a horrible brother, now it’s time to
change those feelings. Your approach wasn’t good, you
need to reach out to Msindisi and invite them to our
villa.”
“Them?” He frowns.
“Him and his partner.”
“Partner? That old man.”
“He’s around your uncle’s age.”
“And Msindisi is around your age. If he’s exploring his
sexual life why must it be old men?”
“Maybe that’s his preference,” I say. He didn’t question
his own uncle’s preference.
“That’s the oldest white man I’ve ever seen in my life.”
He’s exaggerating, that man looks good and fit.
“He gave me Chris Pine,” I say.
Bombastic side-eye!
“You also want him?”
Sigh.
“I’m just saying, he doesn’t look bad. Give Msindisi a
chance to express himself to you without fear. Contact
him, let’s meet Jamal again without your dragon
attitude.” I hate Msindisi but this is a chance for them to
fix things.
“I’m confused,” he sinks down on the bed and blows out
a heavy sigh. “Is he gay or this is his coping
mechanism?”
“That’s why you need to sit down with him, you will find
out," I say.
"I need to take a shower," he gets off the bed, taking out
his T-shirt.
"What about our dinner date?"
"Tomorrow," he says, going away.
My village people have located me all the way from
Africa. This day should’ve been my highlight of the
vacation, then they sent bad spirits to ruin it.

HOPELESS PLACES
CHAPTER 119
NALENHLE
He finally agreed to contact Msindisi, they’re in Rome,
not Florence. It will take them approximately two hours
to get here, so I had to ask him to let them sleep over
since this is a two bedroom villa. They will be here in the
afternoon, we went to the food market to buy for our
double dinner date. Nzalo doesn’t want me to call it that
but it is a double date.
Aunty is at Mr X’s house, I finally get to see her face and
speak to her directly.
“How is America?” she asks.
I think she does this on purpose; she always calls places
wrongly.
“It’s good, I just miss you and malume,” I say.
“We miss you too. You uncle’s cow gave birth.”
Oh wow, what an update!
“He’s happy,” she’s smiling.
A happy husband is a happy wife.
“What is that?” she asks.
I scratched my face. “I have something on my face, just
a little pimple. I guess it’s the change of environment.”
“No, the thing on your finger,” she says.
“It’s a ring,” I say.
“A ring for what? Are you married?”
“No, Nzalo proposed with a ring. It’s not a blessed ring,
just a jewelry.”
“Kanti ubuyolanda amabhadi lapho? You don’t put a ring
on that finger unless you’re married. You’re confusing
the ancestors, they will think you’re already married and
not shine any light in your current relationship,” says the
queen of superstitions.
“Okay, I will wear it on my right,” I say.
“That’s better. MaNdlela fought with Thuleleni’s sister.”
Now this is what I want to hear. I adjust my sleeping
position to hear well. She takes me from the beginning
to the end. I missed out on some good drama.
She gives Zola the phone, she’s attending to the baby
crying in the background.
“What’s up, Preggy?” I ask.
She’s panting, her nose is filling my screen. I can’t wait
for her to give birth and be beautiful again.
“Your sister-in-law is ignoring her baby,” she says.
“How?” I’m confused.
“She stays on TikTok instead of taking care of the baby.
I’m trying to help her but she’s not even meeting me half
way,” she sounds stressed.
“I thought she would be sending the baby to Thabiso’s
family.”
“Well, her uncle has changed his mind. The baby is a
Hadebe anyway, they didn’t even pay for the damages,”
she says.
“But if she’s not willing to be a present mom then what is
a way forward?” I ask.
“If you didn’t go to Italy with Nzalo it would’ve been
discussed. I don’t know what to do, I have to sleep with
him in our bed because Lwethu doesn’t even bat an
eyelash when he’s crying.”
“I will tell Nzalo to FaceTime you guys.” I know she’s
overburdened but none of this can be pinned on me.
Lwethu had her time with Thabiso, they even cohabited
for Christ’ sake. She enjoyed her man, now I mustn’t
enjoy mine because of her?

I find him reading a huge historical book that he bought

at the airport when we landed. He’s trying to distract
himself, he’s not happy with Msindisi and his choices in
life.
“I just spoke to Zola and there’s a problem,” I pull the
chair and sit.
“Mmmm,” he closes the book and looks at me
attentively.
“Lwethu is not looking after the baby, they say she stays
on TikTok while the baby is crying,” I say.
“I texted her and she said everything was alright.” He’s
surprised.
“Zola won’t lie,” I say.
“I will talk to Babomncane tomorrow and see if he can
arrange some therapy for her because I don’t know why
she wouldn’t want to take care of her own baby.”
“Please, Zola is stressed,” I say.
He drops his eyes back to the book. I kinda want some
attention.
“I’m sick,” I say.
He raises his eyes, “What’s wrong?”
“My feet are aching,” I say.
“Should I give you a rub?”
I smile, “Yes, please.”
.
.
.

Our guests have arrived and my co-host looks sour and

unwelcoming. I swore that whenever Msindisi and I meet
it will go down, but I have to be nice for the mood to be
less tense. I have to pretend like I’m not angry with him
for the moves he mad, almost destroying my
relationship. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have fallen
pregnant; I would’ve remembered that I needed to buy a
pill because my mind would’ve been clear.
“It’s more cozy in the kitchen, let’s sit there,” I say.
It’s cold today and I have warmed up our dinner and
boiled water for tea and coffee.
The three of us walk to the kitchen, Nzalo disappears to
the bedroom. We talked, I hope he remembers
everything I said.
“You blocked me,” Msindisi says.
Honestly, I prefer not to hash it out.
“You know your sins,” I say.
“But I wanted us to be like this around each other. I’m
sorry if what I did hurt you,” he says.
Jamal is looking at him, clueless.
“It’s fine, I’m over it,” I say.
“Congratulations on the baby.”
Jamal looks at me, eyes widened.
Didn’t he notice the big T-shirt I’m wearing?
“Oh wow, congratulations,” he says and looks at
Msindisi in amazement.
I’m curious to know about him, just general details,
nothing personal.
“Do you have kids?” I ask.
“No, I don’t,” he says.
“By choice?” I ask.
“I guess it’s just God’s plan.”
“Do you want children though?”
He looks at Msindisi, Msindisi raises his eyebrow with a
thin smile. I guess he’s also waiting for an answer like
me.
“I’d love to have kids one day,” he says.
“So you will adopt?” I’m asking because both of them
can’t fall pregnant.
“We will talk about it when the time comes. For now we
are just focused on building our relationship.” They’re in
a defined relationship, no beating around the bush.
Nzalo joins us and the tension rises again.
He sits next to me and looks at Jamal deadly.
I get up and serve dinner, it’s awkwardly silent.
I nudge him as I put a bowl of baked spaghetti in front of
him.
He takes a deep breath and looks at Msindisi. “Are you
okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” -Msindisi looking confused.
“I’m talking about your life. Konke kuhamba kahle?”
Msindisi nods, “I’m good.”
“If you’re okay then why is this man here?”
He could’ve asked this question better, not rudely so.
“Jamal and I are in a relationship,” Msindisi says.
“So you are gay?” he asks.
“I love Jamal, he makes me happy, and that’s all I can
say.”
“He is a man, that means you’re gay at the moment.”
Msindisi picks his bowl and starts eating. If Nzalo
doesn’t change his tone Msindisi will rebel and not give
what we want, which is peace.
“Is it because of the problems you’ve had in your past
relationships?” Now he sounds concerned.
Msindisi shakes his head, looking embarrassed like he
doesn’t want that brought up.
“Is it about what happened before ncane was arrested?”
Nzalo.
“No,” Msindisi says.
He sighs deeply, defeated.
I clear my throat and ask the normal question. “How did
you guys meet?”
“Through babomncane, Jamal was helping me settle in
Northern Cape.”
Well, I know, I just wanted the mood to be a bit lighter.
“Do you think he’s going to be happy about this?” Nzalo
asks him.
Jamal has been quiet, he finally speaks up. “I will handle
him.”
“You can’t handle my uncle,” Nzalo says.
“I will try…” he looks at Msindisi. “For his peace.”
They look at each other with puppy eyes. Love is a
beautiful thing.
I have never seen this side of Msindisi and it’s great to
see it.
Nzalo watches them, I can feel his deep breaths from
here.
I make coffee, Jamal should be helping me as Msindisi’s
future wife but he’s sitting down. I’m not drinking it, I
have my soda.
“Nzalo loves Springboks, do you?” I ask.
Most South African white men are rugby fans. Nzalo is
not a fan though, I just made it up because I want them
to get along.
“I don’t watch rugby,” he dismisses quickly.
I give him a look, like really dude?
He takes a deep breath, “I love it.”
“Oh, I’m also a big fan. Msi and I are going to a game in
two weeks,” Jamal.
“Msi?” we ask simultaneously, this one is a shocker.
Msindisi smiles. He likes his name short? Discovery.
“Msindisi,” he calls it in full.
I’m impressed.
“Can you say Nzalokayise?” I ask.
I can just feel the look being given to me right now.
Jamal laughs, “I will butcher that one, it’s too long.”
He’s not bad at all.
“Why didn’t I see you when I came to your city?” Nzalo.
Finally, he’s talking to Jamal.
“I was told to stay away,” Jamal says, giving Msindisi a
side-eye.
“I’m sure you’ve only heard bad things about me then,”
Nzalo says.
“Not really,” Jamal chuckles.
He’s just covering up for his sweetheart.
The mood has improved, conversation has started
flowing.
.
.
.
I’m proud of him, seeing him and Msindisi laughing
together again filled my heart with joy.
I showed them around the other bedroom and left them
to settle in. Nzalo has come to bed too.
“You see how lovely they actually are?” I ask.
He shrugs, stripping his clothes off.
“Do you like him?” I ask.
He gives me a look, Fara God.
“I mean as Msindisi’s partner,” I say.
“He seems good, so I guess yeah,” he says.
I shift closer as he gets in bed, it’s cold outside, I need to
get laid.
He kisses my forehead, “Your skin looks so beautiful
babe.”
“I have a pimple on my forehead,” I say.
“Doesn’t matter, I can lick your whole face.”
Anything he says is romantic to me, even the dumbest
thing.
“Why did you put the ring on your other hand?”
Phewww, that’s a long story!
“Aunty said I’m confusing the ancestors,” I just shorten
it.
“What?” He laughs out.
“Yeah, that’s what she believes in.”
He’s still laughing. I tuck my hands under his boxers.
“Harassment babe,” he says.
“I’m pregnant, it’s the hormones.”
“Excuses, excuses!” he pulls me closer and kisses my
lips.
We are grinding against each other with our lips
entwined, then we hear a sound coming from the other
bedroom. I don’t know what it is, sex noise or they’re just
playing pillow fight.
“Uyabona-ke these guests of yours,” he says with a
sigh.
They’re our guests, not just mine alone.
I kiss his lips again, I need this dick inside of me.
Msindisi and Jamal again. Unfortunately these rooms
are close to each other.
“Oh God!” he exhales heavily, letting go of me.
Now he can’t have sex with me because his brother is
having sex next to us, yet he expected me to have sex
with him while my uncle was in the next room.
“Nzalo, focus on me,” I say.
Noises again, but we are not even sure that they’re
having sex.
“We have to find a club closeby and go party,” he says.
“You don’t party,” I’m trying hard not to laugh.
My God never rests; whatever happens on the right
should happen on the left.
“I’d rather listen to drunk Italians than this,” he says.
He’s serious, he wants us to go out and party.

HOPELESS PLACES
SEASON FINALE
CHAPTER 120

NALENHLE

It’s our first time in Rome, we don’t even need a guide

because Msindisi and Jamal are here and Jamal knows
Rome like the back of his hand. Nzalo has started on a
new page with his brother and it has made things easy
for everyone. There’s a cousin driving us around, it’s a
day before the wedding they came here for. I hope
Nzalo’s approach and attitude stays this calm forever.
For the first time Msindisi looks free and happy around
him.
“How long have you guys been engaged?” Jamal asks.
We are both behind, brothers are ahead of us.
“A couple of months but I’ve only worn this ring for less
than a week.”
He looks confused.
“He proposed the Zulu way, then redid it here with this
beautiful ring,” I explain.
“That’s nice, it’s a beautiful ring,” he compliments.
“What about you? Any chance of getting married?”
“I have been married before,” he says.
“To a man?” I’m curious.
“Woman,” he says.
“So you just became gay because of Msindisi?” I hope
this is not an offensive question.
“I’m bisexual, I’ve had boyfriends before,” he says.
There’s a lot that I want to know but it’s personal and
weird to ask. He’s a nice person and I do see why
Msindisi fell in love. This one can even make a straight
man think twice.

Nzalo knows me, he’s announced an eating break. It’s

been two hours since I last ate, he knows that I must be
starving already. We find a table in a beautiful rooftop
restaurant, Mirabelle. I connect to their Wi-Fi and check
on with Zola as we wait for our food. Nzalo is talking to
both Msindisi and Jamal, there’s laughter here and
there.
I stand outside getting some fresh air.
“Hey Preggy, what’s up?” I ask.
“Nothing, just bored in bed with Owami,” she says.
“Where is his mother?” I ask.
“Watching TV downstairs,” she sounds tired.
“Is Owami still taken care of by you?”
“Yeah,” she says.
“Did she agree to therapy?”
“She’s gone twice. I don’t even think she has a problem,
she just wants to live her life like she’s been living it. At
least he’s not a troublesome baby, he only cries when
he’s hungry or needing a nappy change.”
“Still, what is she going to do when you give birth?” I
ask.
“We are looking for a nanny, I will be interviewing some
ladies tomorrow and we’ll see if we find someone
reliable,” she says.
“That’s for the best, I guess. I’m with Msindisi here,” I
say.
“Does he know how that Xolani is waiting for him and
the man he left with?” she asks.
“Why?” It looks like I will be missing out on a lot of
drama.
“That’s his friend and he’s decided to date his nephew.
He didn’t even know that Msindisi had feelings for other
men,” she says.
“I also didn’t know until recently. But he’s happy and in
love, hopefully Mr X will understand and forgive Jamal.” I
look back at the table, the conversation is flowing
without me.
There’s something private I want to ask her. I check if
nobody is behind me first.
“Nzalo got a call from prison last night, MaMkhwanazi
wants to see him when we get back there in Africa. She
says she’s got something to tell him about, regarding his
mother.”
“What did he say?” she asks.
“You know he hates her but she said it’s important. I
don’t know what his plans are, I’m just worried,” I say.
“Why are you worried?” She can’t be this slow.
“MaMkhwanazi wouldn’t call him to tell him good news
about Thobile. I feel like she has something that can
destroy this family and she wants to reveal it to him
because you know Nzalo, azithi mzala.”
“You’re right!” she sits up straight.
We stare at each other. I’m not paranoid, MaMkhwanazi
is up to something. Both Zola and I know how deep this
family's secrets go. I heard Mr X, I know what he did to
Nzalo’s dad and I know what Nzalo’s dad did to his
mother.
“If she says something bad it will destroy Nzalo’s
relationship with his uncle. They have made so much
progress, she needs to be stopped,” she says.
“But how? We can’t control what she does or say.” I
mean, that’s MaMkhwanazi, she’s in prison for a reason.
Who is Zola and I? She dribbled the law for years.
“If Nzalo finds out what Thobile and Xolani did, it’s over
with this family.”
Wait a minute, I look around me again.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“That thing on your mind, they did it.”
Cannot be my late mother-in-law!
She looks so innocent in pictures.
“If MaMkhwanazi knows that, which I suspect she does,
then she’s going to get Nzalo against Xolani to her own
side,” she says.
“What do we do now?” I’m confused.
MaMkhwanazi is going to break this family apart. I want
my baby to have two grandfathers; the village wise one
and the rich one.
“You cannot let Nzalo see her, we have to see her first
once you get back. It’s the two of us, we are going to be
part of this family and our kids will carry the Hadebe
name. We have to protect ourselves and this family.”
“That’s right, let’s wait until I get back.”
African problems are still stressing me even in Italy.
MaMkhwanazi doesn’t know who she’s dealing with
now.
.
.
.

I’m resting on bed, taking a train was fun but the trip was
longer than I expected. Google said two hours to Rome
but we were almost in a train for three hours. I had a
bowl of ice-cream and took a shower, Nzalo has a work
conference call to make. This is supposed to be a
holiday but there are those crucial calls here and there.
He comes back, I close my eyes and pretend to be
asleep. I have been thinking about what Zola said, I
have to figure out how I stop him from going to see
MaMkhwanazi.
He kisses my cheek, I mistakenly blink but keep my act.
He gets under the covers and keeps quiet. Give me my
Emmy Award.
“Hey babe, how are you?”
Who is he talking to?
“No, she’s sleeping, we can talk.”
I can’t be arrested in a foreign country, what kind of
provocation is this?
“I miss you babe,” he says.
I open my eyes, he drops down his hand with a blank
phone.
“Oh, you’re awake now?” he laughs.
People don’t believe me when I tell them that Nzalo is
not well upstairs.
“You are childish,” I say.
“You’re childish for playing the sleeping game and
blinking. Why are you avoiding me?” He pulls me closer
to his chest and lifts my leg to be over his.
“I’m tired,” I say.
“I think tomorrow we must go to a spa and then stay
indoors the whole day. Maybe have some indoor picnic
and lots of raw sex.”
“I don’t do raw,” I say.
“Where did your flat stomach go then?”
Well, maybe I forgot my sense of humor in Africa. Why is
he laughing? How is that a funny joke?
“I love you,” he says randomly.
“I don’t love you.” I close my eyes again.
He kisses my neck and harshly breathes against my
skin. “I love you, Nalenhle. Thank you for the patience
that you give me.”
I open my eyes, his stare is gently on me.
“Why are you being so sweet?”
He smiles, “Because I love you and I want to fuck.”
“Last night I gave you a chance,” I say.
“I thought we didn’t have a timetable.”
His hand invades my privacy, I let him touch everywhere
he wants but that doesn’t mean I’m going to change my
mind.
“I will get you more subscriptions,” he says.
“How?” I thought he didn’t believe in my vlog.
“I will post the link on our official page and urge followers
to subscribe and share,” he says.
“Swear Nzalo,” I don’t want to open my legs for nothing.
“I swear on my father’s grave,” he says.
If I have to, I will sleep my way to success. Let me get
this top off, it’s time to work.
.
.
.

NOKUZOLA

We got Owami a nanny; a humble middle-aged woman

from Nquthu. I’m due in a week now, moving around is
not easy, I get tired easily. Lwethu was making a 1%
effort but since the nanny came she’s back to TikTok.
Therapy was done, I have also tried teaching her what I
know, when my mom was here she also shared some
wisdom with her. Now I just pray that time will give her
some growth and she will eventually care enough. She
loves Owami, that’s for sure, she’s not ashamed of her
baby. She just can’t put him first. I still take him to my
bed because I don’t trust Lwethu to pay any attention to
him.
He's growing to be a little cutie, I’ve had a lot of practice
with him and we’ve crazily bonded. He’s going to be my
baby’s almost-twin and I can’t wait to watch them grow
up together.
The nanny just left, I take Owami to the bedroom where
his grandfather is.
“I have to take a bath, please hold him,” I say.
“I’m waiting to have a bath with you. Where is Purity?”
“Watching TV downstairs,” I say.
He takes Owami back to Lwethu. Usually he’s very soft
with her but lately he’s been a bit hard. I thought Onathi
was difficult because she’s a loud mouth but the humble
Lwethu has proven me wrong.
He comes back, mumbling things to himself.
“Now you don’t even have my time,” he says, bitterly.
Such an old man competing with the little Owami.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I need my time. I haven’t had time with you in three
weeks.” He pulls up the T-shirt I’m wearing and caresses
my boobs. I’m too big, I can no longer get intimate with
him, I think that’s where some of his frustration comes
from.
“You’re a grandfather now,” I tell him.
“So what? I don’t deserve some fun?”
He’s horny and unable to control himself. We kiss, he’s
squeezing my boobs and brushing my huge tummy,
provoking some kicks from Peanut.
“He doesn’t want you to touch me,” I say.
“It’s too early for him to control me,” he says, arranging
pillows for me to lean back on.
Then he pulls my legs apart and my panty to the side.
It’s a pre-bath quickie, his hard shaft enters my opening
after running on my clit. He doesn’t push all of it in, just a
few inches and then moves it in and out.
It’s taking a lot of self-control for him not to pound me
with no mercy. I feel his warm cum filling me up; his
groans vibrate on my chest. He needed this one.

We get in the bathtub together, he’s helping me wash

my back and between my thighs. It’s cold, I’m going to
wear my long pyjamas. I remove the towel and notice
that I’m still wet between my thighs. I slide the towel in
and realize that it’s not water from the bath.
“My water has broken,” I say.
He’s coming with a lotion to put on my back. “Your water
has broken?”
He’s confused.
I’m trying my best not to panic.
“I need to go the hospital, Xolani.”
He looks at the towel that just dropped to the floor.
“Nokuzola, no!” he’s scared.
Lwethu felt the pain first and we rushed her to the
hospital.
“Did I hurt you?” He’s still standing.
“Xolani, I’m going to give birth, take me to the hospital!”
He runs out of the door naked, I think he realized
somewhere down the stairway and rushed back to get
his clothes on.
It’s happening, now!

HOPELESS PLACES
SEASON FINALE
CHAPTER 121

His death was basically the reason why I got to know the
Hadebes in the first place. Sbusiso Langalezwe Hadebe.
According to everything I have heard about him, he was
a dark-hearted man who put himself first and didn’t mind
to destroy everything standing on his way to get what he
wanted. I hope this rebirth of his name will bring a
change to his brother’s heart, Xolani. I hope there’s
going to be some healing and forgiveness.
I open my eyes and look at him. I just took a little nap.
He has Langalezwe in his arms, his eyes are glued to
the little face.
“Hey,” I say.
He releases a deep breath, “Hey mama.”
“He’s not giving you any trouble?”
“No, he’s an angel,” he says.
Well, it’s too early to tell, he’s only five hours old. I gave
birth around 3am in the morning after eight hours of
labor pain. I was under the best team, even though I felt
the pain but it wasn’t severe as most people say. I had a
smooth delivery and Langalezwe is healthy. He’s almost
Owami’s size and Owami is a month old; he’s going to
be a big baby.
“Are you in any pain?” he asks.
“No, I’m good. Maybe I will feel it when I have to pee.
Can I hold him?” I need to bond with him too. He kisses
his hand and brings him over.
I hold him on my chest, he looks peaceful in his sleep. I
can’t tell who he’s going to look like yet but looking at his
knuckles I can tell that he’s going to take his father's and
Nzalo’s complexion as he grows up.
“We really made a human being,” I look at him staring at
us. He looks emotional.
Motherhood already feels like magic. I’m proud of myself
for waiting for the right person to make a baby with. He
couldn’t hold my hand throughout the process but I felt
his support even when he was standing outside. My
mother is not here because we all thought he would
come next week. Xolani will send a car tomorrow, I don’t
think she will stay for long because she has a husband
back home, she will just help me get through a few
things as a new mother.
“I have never been so scared in my life, you’re a brave
woman,” he says.
“So he is your last born?” I’m scared to laugh openly, I
don’t trust these stitches yet.
“I can’t watch you ever go through this again,” he says.
I kiss Langa’s hand, this is not the last-born, he will get a
sibling once he’s grown enough. But I will let his
traumatized dad be.
“I forgot to ask you this, do you know that MaMkhwanazi
wants to see Nzalo to tell him something about
Thobile?” I ask.
“No, you didn’t tell me,” he says.
“Well, she does but Nale and I will pay her a visit before
Nzalo goes. We don’t trust her and it’s about time we put
her in her right place. I know you don’t want to fight with
her because she’s Onathi’s mom, so I will handle it.”
“Okay sthandwa sami, I appreciate it,” he says.
Now I just have to wait for Nalenhle to come back next
month and we will pay the witch a visit.
.
.
.

My dad is the hard nut to crack, I understand why he’s

scared of him. But I don’t understand why he’s scared of
my mom because she’s one person who never had
issues with him. Nale and my dad had issues with him,
my mom was accepting before they even met. Since my
mom arrived in the morning he’s been limiting his moves
around the house.
“Uyacasha bo uHadebe,” she’s noticed it.
“He’s just scared of you,” I say.
“I’m a guest here, tell him to be free.” She’s holding
Langa and I have Owami. Lwethu just changed his
nappy. She’s also a bit scared of my mom, she’s been
doing things for Owami, even making his milk bottles.

Upon her arrival she rolled black wool and put it around
their wrists. My mom is a queen of superstitions, she did
that so that they don’t lose weight. Black people always
comment on babies’ weight and my mom believes that
whenever someone says the baby is big, the baby will
lose weight. We weren’t allowed to comment on Thami’s
body when he was a baby.
“Olwethu make me a cup of tea,” she says.
I know Lwethu can boil water, I just don’t know if she can
make my mom’s tea.
“Just boil water and pour it in a teapot, then bring sugar,
teabags and milk.” Mom will make it herself, who knows
what she might do? Maybe tear a teabag and pour it in
the kettle. Yes, she lives by herself and cooks, but
Lwethu has proven to be a spoilt brat more than Onathi
was.
“Why didn’t you tell her to tie her stomach?” mom asks.
I forgot, a lot was happening and my main concern was
Owami.
“Can’t she still do it?” I ask.
“She can,” she says.
“I will get her a waist trainer, hopefully she won’t charm
boys with a flat stomach and then get pregnant again.”
“How is the other one?” she asks.
“Onathi is okay, I speak to her mother and Winnie
doesn’t play.” Onathi is well-educated on sex and
relationships, she was raised by Winnie, a street queen.
“You’re doing so amazing,” she says.
I’m confused. “With what Ma?”
“The way you play your role, I’m proud of myself for
raising you so well. I’m sure Hadebe is very happy and
he doesn’t regret a penny he gave your father.”
“But my dad is not proud,” I say.
“You’re his princess, obviously he worries about you
having a lot on your plate but he’s very proud of you,”
she says.
“I’m coping just fine, he mustn’t worry.”
“Oh, before I forget. His grandson is Mlamuli.”
Gosh, Skhundla! This is not his agemate, why Mlamuli
out of every name?

Mom’s phone rings, she adjusts the scarf across her

chest.
“Thabethe,” she says softly, her head bowed as if my
dad can see her. This woman is dramatic, whatever dad
does to her is working.
She passes the phone to me; he wants to talk to me.
“Thabethe,” I say.
“Hi, how are you?”
“I’m fine baba, thanks.”
“How is Mlamuli?”
So this name is really going to be what my son is called
back home, sigh!
“He is fine, he was just a bit restless because I don’t
have milk yet but I gave him formula and he’s calm,” I
say.
“Oh, okay kulungile-ke. When are you bringing him
home?” he asks.
“Maybe once he’s three months old, I don’t want to
travel while he’s still so little,” I say.
“His uncle and I can’t wait to meet him, uMlamuli,” he
says.
I give the phone back to his wife, they chat a bit. She
promises to be back home tomorrow afternoon and
instructs him on what to cook.
.
.
.

Motherhood has been amazing, I’m enjoying every bit of

it. However, in two months from now I have to make a
decision whether I’m going back to work or starting
something new. I have a connection to my job, letting go
won’t be easy, but now that I have babies I understand
what Xolani said. I want to be home with Langa and
Owami more than I want to wake up at 6am everyday
and leave for work.
I don’t think Lwethu is going to pass her semester but
she insists on going back to Mpumalanga to write her
exams. She’s leaving today, there has been some
improvements here and there, but I made peace with it a
long time ago. Thabiso’s mother still hasn’t gotten
money to come and see her grandson, and guess what?
Owami won’t be taken to Umlazi for her to see him,
that’s not how it works. Whenever they’re ready, they will
call and tell us they’re coming.
“Purity!” Xolani calls.
I don’t know what he wants to say to her.
Lwethu comes out, she’s already dressed for her
departure.
“Baba?”
“Sit,” he says.
I don’t know what’s going on.
“Siyanda is the only baby that’s going to be raised here,”
he says.
Lwethu keeps quiet.
“If I hear that you’re pregnant again you’re not going to
step your foot in the Hadebe premises and that baby will
not be welcomed here. You will stay where you are until
you give birth, then see what you do with the baby.
You’re a child kwaHadebe, not a wife, this is the last
baby you’re going to bring here. Are we clear?”
She nods, “Yebo.”
“I will wait for Nzalo to come back then I will introduce
Siyanda to the Hadebe ancestors. We will call you to
come home and be present when you do it,” he says.
“Okay, thank you,” she says.
“Next year you will apply for residence, you will not live
by yourself because you invite boys to live with you.
That’s all,” he says.
I hope one thing she’s learnt so far is that she doesn’t
like babies. Keeping that in mind will help her a lot. We
have the nanny’s help but basically we now have two
babies to raise.
.
.
.

NALENHLE

Our vacation was cut one week short but I’m not
complaining. My heart is filled with gratitude and joy. I
have seen the world and I just surpassed 1k subscribers
this morning on my vlog. We just landed in King Shaka
Airport, Nzalo’s friend is here to fetch us and drive us to
Tongaat. I didn’t miss home so much while I was away, I
enjoyed every minute of it. But as soon as my feet touch
the motherland familiarity sweeps over me and I realize
that something hasn’t been there. There’s something
that only home can give you.
I have a nephew now, so does Nzalo, and we haven’t
met them. Langalezwe is almost two months old now, I
have a lot of gifts to spoil him with to make up for the
time lost.
“There is Mhlengi that side,” Nzalo spots him.
He’s the one getting us home. I guess the lady standing
with him is the girlfriend he always talks about, telling
me to be friends with.
“The Italian residents!” Mhlengi says, laughing and
shoulder-bumping his friend.
He looks at me, my belly has grown.
“Wow! Hello first lady,” he says.
Out of all Nzalo’s friends, he’s the one I like.
“Hi,” I adjust my sunglasses before shaking his hand.
Nzalo greets the lady, her name is Namandla.
“Hi,” she says to me.
“Hey, nice to finally meet you.”
There’s something cold about her even though she’s
smiling. I don’t know what is it, she’s beautiful though, I
just can’t put my hand on her aura. We wait for our
luggage and then go to Mhlengi’s car outside.
“How was Italy?” she asks, it’s the two of us inside the
car.
Nzalo and Mhlengi are packing the bags in the boot.
“It was nothing short of amazing,” I say.
“Nice,” she looks outside the window.
I wonder how long they’ve been together and how they
met. All those relationship juicy details.
“Do you have a child?” I want to know if we can relate on
something as a mom-to-be.
“I did, it was a complicated story,” she says.
I did say something is not connecting between her smile
and aura.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say.
She looks at me, smiles with a slight frown. “He’s still
alive, I was a foster mom, in the progressing of
adopting.”
Oh, she must have a good heart then. Angelina Jolie.
The men come in before I can get the whole story. I
need to hang out with her, I need a friend who’s serious
about life, I need friendship wisdom.
“You need to take my number, Mhlengi has been saying
we need to hang out,” I say.
HOPELESS PLACES
THE FINALE
NALENHLE

I couldn’t even sleep well without seeing Langalezwe

first. I will be going back home on Tuesday, Nzalo needs
more cuddles, at least for two days, then we will
continue with the plans we had before going to Italy.
He’s paying for the damages and proceeding with
lobola. Hopefully most will be concluded before Baby
Luna arrives. The dad declined the name by the way,
but I like it, I copied it from someone in Florence.
We are outside Mr X’s house, the baby factory. I can
already hear one baby crying as we walk in. Zola has
shed a lot of her pregnancy weight, she looks like the
old Zola again.
I fuckin’ missed her, I have never gone so long without
seeing her.
She laughs, holding me. “Why are you crying, Naliato?”
“I missed you, crazy-ass,” I hit her chest.
She laughs, “You said you don’t. How come your
pregnancy looks so fancy?”
I have a tummy but I still look like me, just with an extra
glow.
“I watch what I eat; I only eat greens and drink water,” I
say.
Nzalo laughs behind me.
Can’t I lie in peace?
“Where are the babies? We are here to see them?”
She leads us to the lounge, Mr X is feeding one a bottle.
I don’t know which one is which.
“I see me,” Nzalo says, taking the one lying on a
blanket.
This must be Langalezwe, he looks like the Hadebes.
Lwethu’s son is the one driving Mr X crazy. I take him
from his grandfather, this one is going to be a
cheeseboy.
“Hello Purity Junior,” I’m in love with him.
He’s such a cutie…no, he’s not.
I give him back to his grandfather. Why would a baby
just cry out of the blue?
I take Langalezwe, he’s heavier than Owami.
“Junior citizen,” I kiss his cheek.
He’s awake and sucking on his fist.
Wow, I can’t believe this is Zola’s creation.
I came bearing gifts, Nzalo steps outside with Mr X.
“None of these things will fit them,” Zola says.
I bought pairs of boots, little hats and tons of toys.
“They will grow up and wear them.” I bought sizes bigger
than them. They’re almost twins and Owami looks quite
handful.
“I got you a purse and some jewellery,” I pass her the
bag.
I know she can afford it all herself but I’m coming from
Italy, this is my only rich aunt moment.
She unpacks and admires with gratitude.
“When are you going back to work?” I ask.
“I don’t know if I’m going back,” she says.
“You haven’t made up your mind?” I don’t think she will
go back.
“I don’t want to leave my boys for eight hours everyday,”
she says.
“Then you’re not going back. Are you going to be a
house-fiance?” I ask.
“No, I will start a business. I just need a good mentor
then I will explore ideas before launching my own
business,” she says.
“Beauty is a thriving industry at the moment.”
“I will research. What about you?”
“I’m going to work a 9-5 job again.”
“Working for who?” she asks.
This is not even a necessary question.
“Obviously, my man,” I say.
“Business with pleasure!” she claps her hands, laughing.
I love Nzalo, what would be hard about having him as
my boss.
“I’m back, when are we going to the dark house?” I’m
using an indirect language because this has to stay
between the two of us.
“Let’s go tomorrow because you will make excuses if
you have to come from home,” she says.
She knows me too well, even Nzalo knows that I only
come to him after he’s sent multiple taxi fees.
“That woman is stupid. I’m taking care of her daughter
when she’s here but she still wants to start shit,” she
says, shaking her head.
“Does she even care about Onathi?” I don’t think
MaMkhwanazi likes anyone, maybe just herself and
Musa.
“She’s only coming back to this family in a coffin, I want
to make that clear to her,” she says.
They’re coming back, I signal for her to shush. I will just
tell Nzalo that we are going out shopping with Zola
tomorrow.
Unfortunately we have to say goodbye to Owami and
Langalezwe. I imagine my own when I’m holding a baby
in my arms. I can’t wait for my Luna to be in my arms.
.
.
.

I wake up to him caressing my cheek, my bladder is

sending me to the bathroom.
“What is the time?” I ask.
He looks at his phone. “3:48 am.”
“Why are you awake?” I ask.
“I had a bad dream and decided to wake up and have
some coffee, so now I can’t sleep,” he says.
Drank coffee and now he can’t sleep? What a rocket
science!
I visit the bathroom and come back to cuddle.
“Did I tell you that Zola and I going out shopping?”
“No,” he gathers his brows, looking at me suspiciously.
“It must’ve slipped my mind,” I say.
“What are you shopping for?” he asks.
“Luna,” I say.
“Who is that? I hope you’re not talking about my
daughter.”
We have argued enough about this, Luna is Luna. If we
can’t agree on her first name then I will let my uncle give
the first name.
“Do you have money to go shopping?” he asks.
“YouTube is not paying me yet nje.” I kiss his lips.
I did a lot of shopping during our vacation, this is not
even fair. But I’m not really going shopping for Luna, I’m
going to visit a jailbird- MaMkhwanazi.
“I thought we’d shop for her together,” he says.
“There’s still more to shop, next time I will go with you.”
“Mmmm, okay.” He stares at me, as if he’s got some
doubts.
“I love you,” I say.
His stare becomes soft, he smiles.
“I love you too…you and Luna.”
“Now you accept that you’re Luna’s dad?” In this life I
keep winning.
“What will I say? You always bully me.” He brushes my
tummy and kisses my shoulder and neck.
I thought he wasn’t crazy about sex but the more we
stay together is the more he wants it.
.
.
.
This is where we are doing “shopping”, honestly life
related to people who get arrested is not for me. If it
wasn’t for Zola I would’ve backed out and returned back
home. But she kept pressing and we have finally arrived.
I thought a female prison wouldn’t be full, I mean women
are angels, but I was wrong. Old and young women are
in orange uniforms, they don’t even look uncomfortable
being here.
“Why are they not bringing her? I left my babies at
home,” Zola.
Just as she says, the guard comes to us.
“Ladies, what did you say the name was again?”
“Phindile Hadebe,” Zola says.
“Nobody has reached to the family?”
We are confused.
“About what?” Zola asks.
“Phindile had a fight with another inmate, sadly she lost
her life last night. Her body was sent to the mortuary this
morning,” he says.
No, I don’t believe this.
“She has a history of helping people fake death,” I say.
“That’s her, they confirmed her body and she was
declared dead in her cell,” he says.
I’m confused. How?
She could’ve died after we see her, why die the night
before we come to have a word with her?
I also don’t think she would’ve gotten in a fight with an
inmate, female prisons are not known for such violence.
Unless it was orchestrated by someone outside.

We get back in the car silently. I don’t know if Nzalo has

heard, as unfair as it may be, he has to prepare for a
funeral, she was a Hadebe- his father's surviving wife.
“Did Nzalo do this?” Zola asks.
I hope she’s joking because what the fuck.
“No, Nzalo would’ve had her killed a long time ago if he
was capable of such. This looks like something Mr X
would plan. Did you tell him anything?”
“Come on Nale, he’s been with me the whole week.”
Something tells me she’s covering up for him. Nzalo
didn’t do this, I can bet Francis’ life on it.
“So there’s a funeral to plan now?” She sighs heavily
putting her sunglasses on and starting the car.
I’m going home, unfortunately. I haven’t seen my family
in almost three months but I will send a blanket and
bucket of scones.
.
.
.

Home, sweet home!

Nzalo is here to drop me off and rushing back to his
father’s house. Distant relatives and church people were
already in and out. The house had been abandoned,
Zola and I cleaned last night and that’s just how far my
helping hand went.
He hasn’t faced my uncle ever since we baked Luna.
But today is very unfortunate for him because as he
helps me with my bags, my uncle appears with his stick
over his shoulders. Nzalo who hasn’t shed a tear since
MaMkhwanazi’s death news hit surface starts putting an
act. My uncle being a boyfriend-torturer that he is, he
stands and watches us.
“Malume!” I’m still excited to see him.
He looks at me, tries to resist a smile but fails.
“You were well-fed on your holiday,” he says and looks
at Nzalo. “What did you feed my niece, Nzalo?”
It’s a baby bump but he will do this to torture Nzalo.
“My uncles will come, malume,” Nzalo says.
“I know, I’m just asking what you’ve been feeding her for
her to have such a huge tummy?”
Trust me, he will cause drama if Nzalo mentions the
dick, which is what gave me this tummy.
“I lost my stepmother, malume,” Nzalo says.
“Oh, I heard about that. My condolences, mfana.”
A fake sigh. “We have lost an important family member,"
he says.
“Let us know when is the funeral, my wife and I will
come.”
Just like that, they’re on good terms again. He takes two
of my bags and goes home with them.
I turn to the liar. “Lost an important family member,
really?”
He smiles, “Did you see that stick? I’m not taking any
chances.”
“Can I ask you something? Don’t take it wrongly?”
“Yes babe,” he looks at me curiously.
“Was she really killed by an inmate?”
“That’s what babomncane told me,” he says.
He didn’t do it, Mr X did. He Robyned MaMkhwanazi.

He helps me get all my bags home and greets my aunt,

then leaves. We have an appointment with a
gynaecologist next week Thursday, hopefully the funeral
would’ve pass by then. I don’t want to be around
MaMkhwanazi’s bad spirit.
I’m telling my aunt all about my vacation, Mr X’s call
disturbs me. This one hardly ever calls me.
I go to my room to answer, just in case he’s dropping a
bomb.
“Nalenhle, I need your help, you will be compensated for
your time,” he says.
This is the same shit that started this whole thing. He
needed help, he was willing to pay for it, and I ended up
having the crazy-handsome Nzalo Hadebe on my back.
“Mr X, you know that I no longer offer crying services,” I
say.
“What?” He bursts into laughter. “I want you to help
Nokuzola plan our white wedding, assist her with
whatever she wants but don’t stick solely to her ideas. I
want a grand wedding, make it over the top; find the
most expensive venue in KZN, book the most famous
entertainers and get a good designer to help her with
the dress.”
He came to the right person, one thing I take from this is
that he wants to spend a fortune on their wedding and
Zola might be financial-worried and settle for less.
“Leave it to me,” I say.
“I can trust you, right?”
“Mr X, when have you ever given me a duty and I did not
carry it through?” He needs to put a million aside and let
me do my thing.
“Thank you,” he says.
“You’re welcome, but why are you planning your
wedding during a funeral planning?”
“The wedding is more important to me,” he says.
Well, I can’t say MaMkhwanazi was anyone’s priority,
however this is very suspicious. Now I’m convinced that
Mr X did it.
I call Zola, she picks up on third ring.
“I’m busy, Nale,” she says, there’s a baby crying in the
background.
“I think Mr X did it,” I say.
“I had a dream yazi, I saw Nzalo doing it.”
“You need to detox, unenyongo.” I drop the call.
Nzalo had nothing to do with this and I don’t want to
ever talk about it again. This is where we close this
chapter….
Wait, I need her to record when Msindisi and Jamal
arrive. Mr X is waiting for them and it’s going to be PG16
VL.

---------------- THE END