Chapter 41
HE Thinks that I don’t know about the medication that he was taking to clean out my children from his womb, I knew everything.
It all started years ago, three years into our marriage and I was checking through the surveillance camera, that was how I found out – don’t blame me but in the line of work that me and my brothers find ourselves in, SECURITY is a priority.
We have CAMERAS almost everywhere in our lives and their managed by an independent company that Nganono, used to work for... part-time.
Anyways I was done overloading my sperms into his glory hole and for those, who say that I miss, then you don’t know the Ronaldo in me.
That’s not even what hurts me 😭 the most, what hurts me the most, is that I have always hoped and prayed for a huge family with him, not Harriet and I thought that maybe just maybe, he Will stop taking the medication.
As a good husband, I understand where he is coming from but you see this latest one, the Nguni in me, will not allow it.
I am not going to sit down and watch him, take out OUR womb – yes it’s ours, after all what is his, is mine and what’s mine is his.
My brothers whom I sitting with, I haven’t even had a proper ‘talk’ with them, after they killed the owner of SpeedDial and I am pretty sure that they didn’t listen to me, and buried his body in that yard.
My blood has never boiled like that, I was so angry because we promised ourselves that we were never going to shed blood again.
But does this family of blood shaders ever listen?
“Zimele, We have heard, what you have said but... I think that we need to be sure, before calling his family,” that’s Mabutho.
The Father of the family, the man that always wishes or rather must have a final say in every matter.
He looks old.
He is now 43.
Grey hair already showing.
“Okay, I understand what you are saying but I am not going to sit down and watch my own husband partake in something that could rob me... or in all honesty rob us, as a couple... of having children,” I say.
“But you have Harriet,” that’s Nganono.
He has been quiet, considering the drama that came with Zithulele’s dreams or visions.
Angelina is not even talking to him and she has been sleeping in the main house, with the children and MaDlamini, our children’s nanny.
I heard that she shouted at him and said that this family is cursed, and in all honesty, sometimes I feel like we are cursed.
“I know I have Harriet... but I don’t see myself having children with her, just see how she has colonized my entire finance... simply because she has a son for me, now imagine if I have many children with her... please I want to live long,” I say.
I tried to love Harriet despite the fact that, she was my father’s choice for me and not mine, but our love ended that point, when she decided to play God and take the life of my child.
MY LOVE FOR HER ENDED THERE, so right now Mawami wants to do the same thing and yena, he wants to uproot the entire thing.
“Fine, we will send out a message to the Masilo Family and have them be present by tomorrow... but what will happen, if things don’t work out in that meeting Zimele,” – Mabutho.
“All I can say is that I will pray but whatever the outcome may be, it will have me at the winning table... I am not settling for two children and I am not losing Hector,” I say, with my stubbornness clearly written on me.
I can see that my brothers are stressed out because this is a person that they love and are even willing to die for, but unfortunately this is my future, in fact our future.
We grew up only 4 boys, we are not settling for 5 children, most especially now that my brothers are back to shedding blood.
That Life has no certainty.
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MARRIAGE IS NOT easy at all, but I have been pushing for 7 years now and I am not letting the rope go.
But am I not a human being and am I not allowed to make my own decisions and this time, ones regarding my own sanity.
I didn’t want to tell him but as my husband, he hand the right to know but I have made peace with it.
I am removing this womb, as soon as the matters regarding Zithulele, are solved – I end there.
I remember one time before I started flashing out his sperms and sending them to the sewerage, I found out about his ‘extramarital affairs’, he pretended to be strong with the way things were turning out in our lives after Buhle’s blindness but underneath the blanket of the excessive love and happiness, including affection that he paraded, my husband was 2+2= 4 everyone.
I mean he was sucking out the life in every women’s pussy and drying out the sperms in other men’s dicks, and sometimes doing threesome with them but I never complained, about it, after all I am his husband and it’s my job to understand.
I pretended and placed on a smile, because I knew that behind that ‘I am working late to support my family' was all a facade for him to overload his sperms, elsewhere and release stress, after all that’s what most men do, except me and others, hence I said ‘most’.
All I know is that I prefer such mess done away from me, and he makes sure that they’re done away from me, I only accepted Harriet and that’s because of the ‘abaphanzi’ or whatever, apologize for the spelling, but I am not going to accept anything walking through my door, and in my house, to call him father or baby daddy.
Nka loma penis.
But then again, the acceptance of this mess and all, has been one of the things that kept on adding and pushing me to take that medication and soon drove me to the decision of removing my womb.
I mean what’s the point of bringing children into a family like this one, where husbands cheat, where dead people can’t rest and women cry – emphasis on the husbands part, don’t worry... you will find out later.
I don’t even know why Angelina is obsessed with having children, can’t she read the room.
The Door again, I don’t want any visits/visitors and come to think of it, I haven’t even seen my daughter – Buhle KaDikana.
I love her so much, she’s my everything and God knows that I will not trade her, for anything.
Her being born, is a huge miracle for me, because I always thought that I was going to have boys, but I thank God, that he blessed me, with her.
They say that she looks like their mother and Gog’Thembeka but I see more of myself, in her.
Only one person thinks that I was married to him and that is Nkosi, he has always been the person that I love among the brothers.
I love his fashion sense, his talkative self, most especially his height, we are the same height.
Though they is something, that I don’t like about him, is the fact that he loves and supports his little baby brother, my husband so much and that their the closest, just like Nganono and Mabutho.
“Being a Dlamini KaDikana is an assignment and I am afraid that the only person that knows the answers to the questions in this assignment is you... please reconsider your decision to answer this particular question, very well,” he says.
I knew that he was going to be in, my business but I guess, he is just being a big brother, like I would for Morena and Kedibone.
Who am I kidding, I am no longer a Masilo and that means that I am just a brother, after all I gave my birth right to Morena, despite the fact that he wasn’t my father’s son.
“Look, do you remember that faithful night, in that Sandton Mansion, when you and I sat down in that living room... when you told me all of your problems, that led you to be abuser... and then the following day, you called me your mother,” I say.
He gives me that face of his, I see a lot of Nathi and Xolani in this dimpled man.
“I have been a mother to this family and over the years, I have protected this family and sheltered my marriage from harm, and accepted defeat and success in all corners,” I say.
Let me drop the bombshell, regarding that husbands part now.
“I know that you and your brothers are always sleeping with other women and men in Zimele’s case, when you go on those endless business trips,” I say.
You should see the way, he is removing his hat and how he is standing up straight and not leaning on the door frame, again.
He is standing STRAIGHT, with his eyes looking down and him brushing his feet.
Typical family gene.
“You are looking down, because you know that I am telling the truth and nothing but the truth... when I accepted to marry Zimele, I knew that I married him and his secrets... and in this family, we share everything... from children to secrets... I could have told anyone in this family but no... Ma kept quiet, and that’s because I understood, like a proper husband should,” I say.
“Ma... I can explain,” he says.
“Explain what... I remember your father once told me that... my father’s love changed him and now, I am seeing the same thing... Love changes people... your love changed Ziyanda, I am not sure, if it’s for the better or for the worst... Nganono’s love changed Angelina, into a worst version of herself and as for Mabutho, it sent his wife to prison,” I say, with tears.
Again, me and being emotional.
I HATE it.
He is still looking down.
“And what about you and Zimele,” he says.
Like really now, I want to end this conversation.
“His love for me, has changed me from that Hector, who was innocent, who never even knew how a gun looked like, who would never sit down and love a man completely, like the way... I did... so I am now a version of Nomashenge, you love a man that is simply obsessed with something else,” I say.
You should have seen the way, he quickly raised his head, at the simple mention of his mother’s name.
From what I heard, is that he was the closest to his mother and his mother’s favourite.
“I am sorry Ma,” he says.
In all honesty, I wanted that ‘I am sorry’ from my husband, not him.
I wanted an apology from the man that brought me into this family, the man that made sure that I got a diamond ring 💍on my wedding day.
But then with the stubbornness that he was born with, I might have to do the apology myself or better still, wait till next year.
Those women that gave me marriage advice should never see heaven, they contributed to the person that I became.
MARRIAGE ADVICE INDEED!!
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I married Zimele traditionally without him being present, and I was handed over to their family by, my father, Muzi Khanyile, without him being present.
I remember that as children, our fathers used to joke a lot, about our marriage and I used to see my future with him but they is always a huge ‘but’ with these men that are incapable of love.
I never removed that baby, because I wanted or because I wanted to pursue my education in London, I removed it was because of his love for ‘sleeping around’, and also because.... of London.
That INTERSEX thing has been oblivious to Zimele’s ways of sleeping around.
I am sure that he knows about it, since he is the head of everything here, but his love for him, will always blind him.
But anyways I don’t care about them anymore, whether they love or hate each other, since I heard that they is drama.
This time, I am not responsible.
The only person that is going to give me, sleepless nights, is that boy called Zithulele Dlamini KaDikana.
I have worked tremendously hard for him and that sex crush ‘BabDlamini’ of mine, that refuses to die, to just ruin everything for me.
Me, Harriet Khanyile KaDikana, azose, I will not allow it.
I was never like this, I was not the scheming type that loves to disturb other people’s lives, no I was never like that.
But then these ancestors that just wanted things to go according to what they want, are responsible for the person that I have become.
How on earth, can you thrust a young beautiful woman like me into a marriage with Zimele, a man who loves cleaning other man’s sewerage.
I swear if it wasn’t for the money, by now, me and my vagina, were going to be somewhere, with my daughter.
When I see Buhle, I see nothing about me or anything that resembles me, not even the skin colour, it’s as if that man transformed him, into a figure of himself.
Sometimes I regret, the decision that I took to make her blind, I mean it was my blood, covered in something, that was thrown into the bowl by my father, which resulted in her blindness.
But then I am focused woman, whose on mission and I can’t fail.
Failure doesn’t flow in our blood.
I am hearing some women giggling outside, like seriously can’t this village bitches, just try to shake off, the dust somewhere else.
I don’t why I was placed near the outside kitchen.
I can’t hear properly, what their saying but they have suddenly, become serious.
I know those voices, it’s MaDlamini, who happens to be the children’s nanny and Nathan’s wife, nanny and some of the female workers and the women that love disturbing us, they work in that vegetable garden that Hector erected for them, the community.
I don’t know why he did that, always trying to pretend.
SATAN umuntu.
Anyways let me move towards the window and hear this conversation.
“Look, I heard that uMabutho has called for a meeting with the Masilo family to discuss something very important... and uZimele and Nganono will be doing a ceremonial thing for the ancestors, so that they can find the whereabouts of Zimele’s dreams or visions... or rather explanations,” she’s saying – that’s one of the female workers, or rather the maids.
I didn’t even know about the meeting at all.
No, wait... they is meeting about Zimele’s dreams.
I can’t have that nonsense, if those dimpled men start that ‘consultation’ of those underground gang, then I am finished and what is this meeting, of Hector’s family.
“How did you know about this wena,” that’s MaDlamini.
I also want to know, how she knew about it.
“Kodwa MaDlamini, I work inside there and during the meeting, I was cleaning and that’s when I heard... MaDlamini... this family has drama, most especially MaKhanyile,” she is saying.
So now I am the dramatic one, these women and their smelly bodies, and dusty outfits.
I hate busy bodies, oh in this case, dusty bodies.
But let me step away from this window before I get heart palpitations.
I need to come up, with a plan, to stop that ceremonial meeting from taking place.
I know they say that, they is no rest for the wicked, but please I am not that wicked, not to deserve rest.
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I NEVER knew about the fact that my own husband, knew about my extramarital affairs or even had the slightest idea of me and my 'married' brothers overloading our sperms, elsewhere
Don’t worry, Nkosi told me and my brothers, and to be honest, we were shocked.
Look, I never wanted to cheat and it’s not like it comes natural to men but I was pushed into a corner, I wanted to release my stress and pain, into something, and the only way was for me to do that, was to sleep with men and women.
It did not start today.
I am not justifying my sins but I am just trying to give my reasons, I didn’t want to show my beautiful husband that I am breaking down.
I had to be strong for him, for us.
I am not knocking, I enter into his room, and he is sitting on the bed, I move to the centre of the room, and I take the chair that we had sex on, and sit on it.
That SEX that we had on our traditional wedding day, made me dry, I have never been sexually pushed to the edge, like that.
I nearly died with pleasure, when he was riding my anaconda.
I am brushing my feet on the floor and I don’t want to look at him, he didn’t come to the dinner table and like usual, it was cold and dry.
“I am sorry Mawami, I know that I keep doing painful stuff and apologizing,” I say, raising my head and my eyes meeting his own but still, he won’t say anything, his just quiet and looking at me.
“Look, I was under a lot of stress and pain, and I wanted to be strong for the both of us,” I say.
This man is not saying anything and I hate it, but now I need to be calm.
I am in the wrong here and besides I don’t want to leave our conversation, like the way I did, yesterday night, so I have to keep calm.
“So Dlamini...,” the surname again.
“You decided to be strong for us, by planting your penis into women’s pussies and men’s glory hole... Why didn’t you tell me” he says.
I know when he calls me, by my surname that he is angry.
But I am not going anywhere, I am sitting here until we resolve this mess.
I want my gorgeous husband back to me, I want to be inside him.
“I didn’t want to tell you, Mawami... I didn’t want to hurt you... I am sorry,” you should see the tears.
I want to cuddle him and assure him, that I will never do it again, but this is Hector Masilo Dikana.
Not that sweet, Hector Masilo from Matric or Yeoville but now a crazy Dikana spouse.
I am scared of him, when he is angry but I find him cute.
“You were afraid that you were going to hurt me, how many times did you hurt me... and I am still in your house, you cheat on me on me, and all but I am still in your house... you know what, my love for you, has been the very same thing that you use to HURT me... all the things that your family has done including your father, all of those painful things, including the slaughter of humans and you sit there and tell me, about hurt... the problem with you, is that you are self-centred... you are stubborn Dlamini KaDikana,” he says.
I know he wants to hurt me, but I am not going anywhere and tears are also streaming down my eyes, I am trying to stop them but they is no point, they keep on streaming.
“I am sorry for everything,” I say.
I totally don’t have anything to say but to just remain quiet, considering the fact that it’s true.
I have hurt him, a dozen times.
“Dlamini, Get out,” he says.
Now you see that, I am not leaving, I want to solve this issue today, I have so many things, now my plate and he needs to beside me.
When he sees that I am going nowhere, he immediately enters into the blanket and covers himself.
He lets out a heavy cry and I know for sure that someone might hear him, because he is loud.
I stand on my two feet and move towards the place, where he is sleeping and as I try to touch the blanket.
He pushes me away, with his hands, almost making to fall but I quickly hold on, to the other chair beside his bed.
“And then, why are you pushing me,” I say.
I am angry now but I am trying to be calm.
“Lalela La wena Dlamini,” he says in Zulu.
What have I done to this Tswana boy.
“DON’T YOU EVER TOUCH ME!!!, just stay the FUCK away from me,” he says.
I told you guys that I am scared of my husband.
I just stand there and watch my husband, the man that I love, become the person that I didn’t want him to become.
How did we get here, how did it come to this.
“Mawami, this is how you are going to talk to me, this is how you are going to treat me,” I say.
I am a broken soul, and I have just made someone else’s son, broken.
I promised to love him and let him, have my heart.
He is not answering me but just crying.
I can’t stand this, I immediately take up leave.
And upon my arrival outside, just after closing the door, I find Harriet and she’s smiling.
I swear if it wasn’t for that black bead around her wrist, or the fact that she serves one of the greatest blowjobs.
I was going to throw her, outside.. long time ago.
Skinny witch.
“If I were you, I was going to fasten my seatbelt, because the ride is about to get bumpy,” she says and immediately takes her leave.
EXCUSE ME!!!...
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2023.