Amile The Queen

Chapter Seventeen

***Amile Gumede***


Last day of school in term three! It’s my last term three. It’s all becoming too real. I’m going to check my marks, we’ll only get our reports when we come back. I’m very anxious about these marks. I know put my all into this, but you can never be certain. Now that schools are closing for the week, mom said Siviwe and I should go to Zululand to visit gogo. She wants to get to the bottom of my dreams, I don’t know how that is going to happen. I still haven’t told Nkosi about them, I want to tell him before I go though. Jama is here to fetch me today, I haven’t seen him in such a long time.
“Hello Jama!” I said as I slid into the backseat.
“MaQwabe, kunjani?”
“I’m good, I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Ayy, bengisathe shwi emakhaya nami. Umuntu nje mele aye emhlangeni ayolanda umfazi.” (I was still at home. I just have to go to the reed dance to get a wife.) I laughed.
“Udlala ngezingane zabantu Jama.” (you are playing with people’s children Jama)
“Mina ngizifunela uMaXulu nje kuphela.” (I just want MaXulu.) Oh my goodness!
“Since when!?” he laughed.
“Your friend is a flirt, she drives me crazy.” I can’t believe my ears.
“You said you don’t do children!”
“She’s not a child, she’s different.” I don’t want to think of him as a typical man who only wants to bed her, but why so suddenly.
“I’m shocked.” He laughed.
“Umtshele ayeke ukuzenza uCan’t get ngami.” (tell her to stop playing hard to get.)
Jama has officially made my morning! I can’t wait to tell Nambitha. She’s going to die of laughter.
As soon as I got to school, the first person I went to was Nambitha. She was sitting alone reading a book.
“Girl put down that novel and listen to me!”
I snatched it and put it on the table.
“What now, so early in the morning.” She’s interested, she can’t even hide it.
“Jama!”
“Uggh, kanti.” She rolled her eyes and picked up her book again. Oh come on.
“He actually likes you chomie!”
“I don’t care, he’s not my type. He’s also old, and ugly.” I laughed.
“Come on Nambitha, he was telling me in the car that he genuinely likes you but you are playing hard to get. He also said that he likes it, that it turns him on.” Again, when you tell a story, you must add spices.
“Angifune Jama la mina Amile. I definitely can’t be with someone who didn’t even want to tell me his name.” (I don’t want Jama Amile.) she rolled her eyes again. I suspect that she likes him back.
“But you two stayed the whole day at Nkosi’s house talking and laughing.”
“Because I was bored, duh!” oh she definitely likes him.
“Oksalayo, wherever Nkosi goes, he goes, and wherever I go, you go. Seeing him is the inevitable MaXulu.” Her cheeks turned pink but she shooed me away.
“Suka la. Mina ngiya emhlangeni, ngiyintombi eziphethe kahle.” (I attend the reed dance, I am a virgin and I am keeping myself.) that she is.
“Ufuna ukukhethwa inkosi, no thank you.” (you want the king to choose you?) I’m okay with the love of my life being the way he is.
“I don’t know what you are so afraid of, you are already a part of the royal family.”
“Nkosi and I aren’t married, and we won’t get married anytime soon. He doesn’t want me to go to the palace yet, he says his family is toxic.”
“Seriously?” I forget that she’s obsessed with them.
“Yeah, I don’t quite know the details, but I know that him and his older brother, or the King, are not really that close.”
“King Zwelibanzi is scary though, not going to lie. I don’t know how the queen does it. How do you sleep with such a scary man!?” I laughed. I think him and Nkosi are alike though.
“Him and Nkosi are no different.”
“Yeah, feature wise, but his aura, I don’t know, ngathi uthwele or something.” (  Oh jeez.
“I don’t think that’s the case.” If it were him that I was seeing in my dreams, we would be talking about a different story, but it’s a whole other man, and I don’t think that man is related to Nkosi in any way.
“What I’m saying is, your boyfriend is likeable, appealing. He reminds me of the late prince. The king is a whole different story.”
She lost me at late prince.
“What late prince?”
“Prince Langalethu kaMhlabawesizwe. He was supposed to succeed the king after he died but he died a few months before his coronation, that’s why Bayede is the king. I don’t want to lie, I wouldn’t be surprised if it came out that he killed his brother for the throne, these things happen all the time.”
“This prince Langalethu, how old is he?” my heart is beating fast.
“I don’t know, he’s a few years older than the king.” Oh lord. Maybe he’s the one that I’ve been dreaming about. Fuck!
“Do you have a picture of him?”
“No, all pictures of him were taken down from the internet after he died. He was in a terrible car accident.” Keep calm Amile, relax and breath.
Okay maybe I need to tell Nkosi about these dreams. I know he’ll be angry so I need to do something nice for him. Yeah no! Life is not lifing right now.




***Mandlenkosi Zulu***


He’s already parked, waiting for his princess to come so they can go to his place. He’s dodging work more often than usual, and he’s always dodging work. He got her another bunch of flowers, red roses again. He saw just how much she loved the ones he got the other day, and today he got more, a bigger bunch, with hundred rand notes rolled inside of it. He definitely is not the romantic type, but he has siri for a reason. Which better girl to ask than the smartest girl.
In the back of his mind, he’s doing all of this because he wants to spend as much time as he can with Amile because he’s leaving for Zululand, this weekend is the Reed dance. Depending on how today goes, he wants to ask Amile to give him permission to ask for her hand in marriage. He doesn’t know how he will make her understand though, she seems like she’s a tough cookie, and he is low key afraid of her.
“Sthandwa Sami.” She said when she opened the front door. Her sweet smell filled the car immediately and he smiled.
“Muntu wami.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss.
She made sure to lock him in and the kiss had him running his hand up her thigh. He cursed under his breath and broke the kiss.
“You know what you do to me MaGumede. Please behave.” She giggled and sat back in her chair. She looked radiant, happy.
“I have good news ke Ndabezitha.”
“Do share beautiful.” She blushed.
“I got 99% for my physics exam!”
“I knew you would do it, well done MaGumede! And what about your chemistry and maths?”
“I got a B for chemistry, and 88 for my life science.”
“I asked about maths.” She hesitated.
“I got a C for paper 2, but I got an A for paper 1.”
“That is still amazing sthandwa sami, I’m proud of you, you worked hard. I got you another gift at the back.”
“Another one?” she turned and picked up the bunch of roses. Her eyes widened when she saw the notes.
“Oh my goodness Mandlenkosi.” He laughed.
“Do you like it?”
“How much is this?” at first, she used to feel embarrassed when he would buy her nice things or spend money on her, but now, she warmed up to it. In fact, she loves it.
“I don’t know, I know it’s enough to do your hair and nails though.”
“I love them, thank you. Imama liyatotoswa.” (a woman gets pampered.) He laughed even more.
“Impela MaGumede.” She put them back in the backseat and he started the car.
“Okay, so what else are we doing today?” he glanced at her suspiciously.
“What do you want to do?”
“The mall first, I want to get something, then we can go kwami.” She said that and that made him blush like a little boy.
“I like that, kwakho.” She giggled and took her phone out from her pocket.
She connected her music and played a very unexpected song, and she was singing along to it. He knows this song very well, although he was very young when it was released, he grew up listening to it. What does a 2000 know about Az Yet and Last Night. He laughed lowly.
“Last night, I was inside of you.”
“Inside of who?” he asked looking at her. She seems to be enjoying the song.
“While making love you.” She continued to sing.
“Wengane, what do you know about making love.” He’s laughing. This is amusing to him.
Sengiyingane manje Zulu? I’m not a child when you have you thing in between my thighs.” (I am a child now Zulu?) He cracked up.
“Wawungakazalwa kuphuma lenamaba wena, thula nje.” (You were not born yet when this song came out, just keep quiet.) He teased.
“And you were like what, three? What did you know about making love and being inside of people?”
“You’d be surprised.” Her eyes widened.
“I’m joking MaGumede. But I’ll also be inside of you, and I’ll make love to you. Have a taste of heaven.” His hand travelled up her skirt and played with her clit over her underwear.
“Don’t do that Nkosi.” He breathing hitched and she grabbed his hands. He laughed.
“Intozami lezi.” (these are my things.) He grabbed her mound and squeezed.
“Zulu!” she laughed. 
He continued to drive with his hand still under her skirt. She wasn’t complaining though, she loved it there.




***Amile Gumede***


He has no idea how easy he has made it for me to want to execute this plan I have in my head. I only had R200 to my name, and I was going to go to the mall and spend all of it, but I took a few notes from the bouquet. Some girls are lucky hey.
I went to an underwear store and got myself a sexy black lingerie. By fire by force, today, I am getting rid of that barrier between me and Nkosi, normal people call it virginity, I call it a nuisance in my life ever since I met Nkosi. I got a pair of heels just for the fun of it. If he asks what I was buying, I’ll show him the shoes.
I didn’t stay inside for long, I didn’t want him to die of suffocation in the car so I went back. He looked pretty occupied by his phone when I got back.
“That was quick.” He said switching it off and putting it away.
“I knew what I needed. In and out.”
“What were you buying?” he asked as he started the car.
At least now we aren’t far from his place, or as I said earlier, kwami. I don’t know where I get the courage honestly, but he loves it, that’s all that matters.
“Some shoes that I liked for church. I’m glad I found them here.”
“How much were they?” why so many questions.
“R350. They were on sale.” He nodded. I’m praying to God this works.
We arrived at the apartment and he carried my shopping bags and I carried my roses. I want to take a picture of them, and with them. He’ll do it for me with his ridiculously expensive phone.
It seems like Jama is not here, bonus!
“Are you hungry?” he asked me as he placed the keys on the kitchen counter. I should be asking him, not the other way around.
“No, are you? I can make us something to eat.” At the end of the day, I know he can’t cook to save his life, so I’d rather make the food myself.
“Ngingakujabulela ukudla MaGumede.” (I would love food MaGumede.) Great.
“I’ll go change.” I think he approves of that because he handed me my shopping bags.
I went upstairs and changed out of my uniform. I was smart enough to buy toiletries that permanently stay here, because I often spend my time here, especially after school, even when he’s not here. The dynamics of our relationship changed in the last three months. Being with him feels like home, it’s like breathing. Mom doesn’t know about the frequent visits though because she is always working, and at some point, she was working over time and Siviwe was spending most of his time at Aunt Lisa’s house, its nights like those that I spent here. That’s why I say ikwami. What I don’t have here are clothes, I like wearing his, if you were to see my wardrobe at home, you would think he lives there, but as a matter of fact, that night I snuck him in and cooked for him was the first and last time he ever entered my place. He always waits outside the lobby for me to come out.
I put my surprise on after freshening up and threw on one of his big hoodies. It’s all he owns, big sweaters and hoodies. He’s actually into streetwear, not surprising because he listens to trap and hip-hop. His title really goes against his sense of dress and taste. It was only once or twice where I saw him in actual formal clothes like pants, loafers and a proper shirt. He’s always in golf t-shirts with jeans and sneakers or tracksuits and sweaters.
He’s in the lounge watching TV, he didn’t even hear me coming down the stairs going to the kitchen. I never know what to cook for this man because he eats fancy food, his chef always out does herself in her cooking, she cooks things I can’t even pronounce and every time I have to cook for Nkosi, I have to crack my brain first. I took it upon myself to buy cook books that I keep here and try new recipes all the time. I’ve gotten good at a few and he likes some of them. Not that he’d ever say he doesn’t enjoy my food.
Things are simmering on the stove and smells are attracting people from the lounge.
“It’s smells amazing in here.” He held me from the back.
“It’s almost ready.” He ran his hand on my bare thigh.
“Why aren’t you dressed? Jama might waltz in here at any moment.” Well?
“You don’t like me like this?” I kissed his cheek.
“You look sexy.” He planted kisses on my neck and I slightly arched it to give him room.
I have to exercise self control, his hands are traveling up to places where they shouldn’t be in yet.
“Okay Mr touchy touchy. Can I finish my pots first.” He chuckled and let go of me.
“I’ll behave, I’m sorry.” He went to sit on the kitchen stool and watched me cook.
“Please borrow me your phone so I can take a picture of my flowers, and my food, and myself.” He laughed.
“I’m tired of you flooding my phone storage with your aesthetic nton nton. I should get you your own phone manje.”
“Come on baby. I don’t need a R28000 phone. Why should you buy another one when you already have it. Asikho nje isidingo.” (there is no reason.)
“Then stop using my phone and use yours.” He’s doesn’t get it does he.
“Aww baby! Please.” He took it out of his pocket and gave it to me. I knew he wouldn’t resist me.
“Thank you.” I kissed his cheek.
This man doesn’t even have a lock on his phone. He said something about it being too much admin, and he said he has nothing to hide. I finished cooking, plated my food carefully and took a picture of it. He looked at me and shook his head.
“Yonke into nje niyayishutha.” (you take pictures of everything.) I laughed.
“Capture every moment sthandwa sami.” I snapped a picture of him frowning and it came out perfect. I’ll definitely send this to myself.
“Cela ukudla kwami ke mina MaGumede.” (Can I have my food please MaGumede.) He really is hungry.
I gave him his food and something to drink. He likes cranberry juice, he always has  stocked up in his cupboard and fridge. I think it’s because he doesn’t drink a lot. He has his occasional beer here and there, but that’s only when he’s with Prince Dumisani and Jama. Bad influences I tell you. He never smoked another cigarette after that day though, I don’t know about Jama, but I’m glad he listened to me. I like someone who listens.
I went upstairs and took pictures of my flowers and myself, because I look too pretty to let it all go to waste. I took them until I was satisfied and when I went back downstairs, he was already loading the dishwasher.
“I was going to wash those.” I said wrapping my arms around his waist.
“No, siyolala manje.” (We are going to nap.) One part of our afternoon sessions that I love the most are our naps. They give me happiness, but today, there are no naps today. He has a job to fulfil.
“Let’s go.” I pulled him and he wrapped his arms around my waist from the back, then he picked me up.
“Yini le oyifake ngaphansi?” (What are you wearing underneath?) he ran his hand over my stomach, feeling the material of the lingerie.
“Uzobona phezulu.” (you’ll see upstairs.) I kissed his cheek as he carried me up the stairs.