MATHONGA

Chapter 49

MATHONGA-
Forty-nine

KHETHIWE-

My mother was not happy about me quitting my job; me and my big mouth. I should have told her that I was fired. The company my father works for is retrenching, he was demoted instead and his salary decreased.
So, the situation at home is bad.
It’s a full house, every unemployed person is here; in my father’s house. It’s a Sassa house actually, my father’s sister, aunt Rebecca moved in a month ago with her two 26 year-old daughters.
Sono and Amafu, those two along with their mother have occupied my room.
I have to sleep in the sitting room, on the floor. Every day I regret leaving the Khanyile homestead, life was better there. I had a room that had a shower and a toilet, my own toilet.
There’s a heavy presence behind me, I immediately turn down the TV volume. Mom hates that I have become a potato couch, she’s forever yelling and dictating what I can and cannot do in this house.

“Khethiwe!” Her cold voice reaches my ears, and causes me to flinch. Gradually, I turn my head to face her. I did say she was not pleased with me, I thought she’d be over it by now. Talk about holding a grudge.
“Here,” her face is unkind as she hands me a piece of paper.
“Kobus Moolman.” I read the name out loud in a questioning tone.
“He’s looking for a cook, I recommended you. If everything goes well, you will be employed by the end of the day.”
What? I don’t want to cook for some Kobus, her sister in-law is living rent free here and eating my father’s food. Why didn’t she recommend her?
“A friend already promised me a job at Spur, ma.” I lie, she doesn’t make it easy for me. This woman knows when her children are lying to her.
“Khethiwe!” The folding of the arms is never a good sign, just know you have pissed her off. “You willingly left your job, no one forced you to. Now we have another mouth to feed, your father is the only person bringing in money in this house. Stop being selfish and go meet up with this man.”
And there she goes, marching back to her kitchen. This is the part where I swallow my pride and do what she says.
I should change out of these sweatpants and wear something presentable. But I’m not really out to impress Kobus, if he really wants a cook then, my looks should not matter to him.
I rush to the room that used to be mine and put on a pair of shoes. On my way out, I bump into my father. He greets me with a smile and asks where I’m headed, I’m trying not to sound like a brat as I narrate the short story about me cooking for a Kobus.
“Here, buy yourself something to eat.” He hands me a R100 note, fresh from his pocket.
“Thank you baba,” I’m not about to say no to money. My salary will be in at the end of the month, I will spoil him with that little change.
“Don’t tell your mother,” he warns.
It’s funny to me, he’s always done this. Would cover up for me or give me something and say to keep it from his wife. She can be a dragon that one.

“Be safe, I don’t want to see another video of you fighting.” Geez! This father, why is he on Facebook to begin with?
My face is all over social media, a video of me and Thethelela fighting has been trending for a week. Khothama has no shame, he didn’t bother to use a fake account. I don’t care what people have to say, what comforts me is that Ntaba is not on social media.
My father and cousins know about the video, I had to bride the two sisters to keep their mouths shut. I have a mother who walks around breathing fire.  
 

My destination is Nyamazane Game Ranch, it’s a cottage. Kobus manages the place, he tells me that he knows my mother and interviews me without a CV. I’m starting on Monday, just great. I don’t mind a job, it’s the thought of feeding my aunt and her two kids I can’t stomach.
I’m left with R40 and a few cents from the money my father gave me, it’s enough to get me a pie from the garage. The taxi rank is a distance away from the petrol station, I have to walk for at least ten minutes. Hopefully, I’ll be home before dark.  
“Khethiwe.”
I don’t recognize the voice calling me, or the strange man crossing the busy road.
He’s a black man, bald and chubby. I clench my bag like it carries gold, robberies happen in broad day light. 
Afraid for my life, I turn and begin marching back where I came.
“Hey wait.”
He’s running, I do the same.
“Leave me alone, I don’t have any money.” I yell, hoping he’ll listen but he’s still running after me. It feels like the chase won’t end, so I stop and pick up a brick from the pavement.
“I swear I will smash your head with this if you do not leave me alone.” 
Is this idiot laughing at me? I’m completely perplexed.
Screaming is my next option, these gated communities are a treasure hunt for criminals. I haven’t seen anyone around here.
“When did you become so fierce, Khethiwe Madonsela?”
Huh! He knows my name?
“How do you know my name?” I yell, brick on standby. 
“I cannot believe you don’t remember me.” He’s still laughing.
“I don’t know you.” I backtrack, leaving no room for him to attack when he decides to attack.
“Ouch! I knew you’d forget about me,” the sir chuckles. I’m cracking my brain trying to remember a face I have never seen before.
“Bahlephambikwethu Sithebe. Ten years is not that long for you to forget your better half.”
Oh how can I not forget the guy with the longest name in the Zulu vocabulary, I still want to smack his mother for that. 
“Bahle?” He looks so different, he was very small the last time I saw him. 
I drop the brick and giggle at my own stupidity.
“I have never seen anyone run like that before, it felt like one of those scenes from uyajola 9/9.”
There is no reason to laugh at me, it’s his fault for changing over the years.
“Nawe you just came at me like a thug.” I defend my cowardice. 
He laughs harder as he opens his arms for a hug, I hesitate a bit before accepting it.
It’s been long after all and we were so close back then. Bahle was the male bestie, we met in primary school and went to the same high school. We were like the Ying-Yang twins. My father was never a fan of this man, he didn’t like the idea of me having a guy friend.
The friendship ended in grade 11, I still remember the day like it was yesterday. Bahle insisted we go watch a movie Friday after school, I agreed.