MATHONGA

Chapter 25

KHETHIWE-

It’s bad enough that the Khanyiles think I’m this reticent girl who trembles at the sight of their unruly son. Romeo with a black rose and a scythe in his hand. That’s my Ntabezikude.
Lord knows how that man makes my insides tremble. In any case, I can’t let Nala fall under the same classification, she’s too shy it makes me look bad. I need to teach her a thing or two about being confident.

I followed her to her room, she refuses to open for me. It’s getting dark outside, and rumour has it there are ghosts in these premises. I don’t know how true they are, I’ve never seen any.
“Nala, talk to me please.” I try for the umpteenth time. I’m losing my patience here. Is she crying? The sobs I hear can’t be belonging to the supposed ghosts.

“I don’t know what happened back there, why you ran off like that.” Is this how man feel when they run after us? It’s abuse, honestly. They should be getting paid for this.
One final knock before I give up and the door opens. The first thing I see is her tear drenched face. 
“What’s wrong?”
She shrugs at my question, but lets me in still. I invite myself to sit on the bed, and ready myself to pacify her. I don’t have a PHD in consoling women, my parents were blessed with one girl. It’s always been me surrounded by two boys, eons older than me.
“I’m okay.” I don’t believe her. “You didn’t have to run after me, you know?”
“Are you kidding? I had to check on you.”
Honestly, I thought she was going to jump off a cliff or something.
How do you chase a fat elephant out of a room? The silence and tension is killing me.
I watch her as she plays with the hem of her shirt, standing in the middle of this spacious rondavel. I try to push back the urge to snoop, ask what the matter is. Maybe the picture of the naked woman didn’t sit well with her.
I myself do not like to see my naked body, it’s a recoiling sight. Not traumatising, but cringing. And to think men salivate over a woman’s body?
“Did that picture trigger something? A painful past maybe?” I shouldn’t be asking this. How will I counsel her if she opens up? I’m not Dr. Phil. Her eyes snap to me, wide and dubious.
“Why would you think that?” Her question is instant.
“I’m not thinking anything, I’m only asking because…”
“It didn’t trigger anything, let it be, please.” This time her voice is hesitant, yet carries authority that tells me this subject is not up for discussion.
“You’re defensive, Nala. Something is…”
“Will you stop?” Did she just shout at me? “I don’t want to talk about that picture, neither do I want to talk about my past.”
“Okay, okay.” I raise my hands in defence, as I stand to meet her height. “You don’t have to fight me...”
“I’m not fighting you,” she continues to bite my head off.
Nala turns away, showing me her side profile. I feel like an idiot for meddling.
Great, now I have to apologise. 

“I think we should go out tomorrow, we can buy some clothes at Mr. Price.” If this doesn’t serve as an apology, then I’ll hang myself with tissue paper. “The clothes I gave you are not doing justice to your small frame.”
They are too big for her, she walks around looking like a coat hanger. A sigh is released, she stirs to look my way. Thank Shembe she’s not crying.
“I haven’t received my salary yet, maybe we can go at the end of the month.” Nala.
That’s a plan, considering I have to send money home before my mother comes for me. Buuut…
“It’s okay, you can pay me when you get paid.”
There’s always a FOR SALE aisle at Mr. Price, simple t-shirts go for R50. I’ll be lucky if we find those.
The small smile on her face makes this trip worth it.
“Okay.” She nods like a kid. I still want to know her age, she looks too young to be working as a servant. She never talks about her family, which I find strange. They must be the reason for her sad face, family can be toxic. 
“Hey, it’s a Saturday night. Let’s go out and get drunk.” It’s the perfect time to do so. 
“We can’t, we have to watch over the house.” Did she just say watch over the house?
“No we don’t, there are guards plus the other servants. If it happens that there’s a break-in, what will we do? We are just two defenceless young girls.” I can be very persuasive. 
“I know but…” She looks unsure.
Gosh Nala!!!
“Anything after 'but' is nonsense,” I interpose.
“Mathonga said not to leave the premises.” Nala has not met a village Zulu man, those ones are control freaks.
“We’ll be gone for an hour, Mathonga is on his way to Johannesburg. He’ll never know that you disobeyed him.”
Yawn! Men are such slave drivers. The only man allowed to control me is Ntaba, I would kneel for that god. I grab Nala’s hand and drag her outside with me.
“Where are we going?” She’s freaking out.
“My room, I’m going to make you look amazing. Men will drool over you.”
She pulls her hand from mine, and stops, a few seconds pass before she speaks.
“I don’t want men drooling over me,” she clarifies with a headshake, her heavy sigh fills the space between us.
“Okay, women then. You know you’re hot when you attract both genders.” This should make her feel better.
Without her permission, I grab her hand again and lug her toward my room.