"Are you okay?" Omphile says over the phone, having buzzed Molefi off from sleep at 5 am.
"I'm okay, auntie. Everything is fine." A question lingers in his mind: did she dream of him last night? Omphile only asks such early-morning questions after dreaming about her siblings and children.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm okay here."
Molefi sits back to the wall, thinking about last night's events which threatened to spoil his first night at the mansion. He'll later get to know that the laser rays were from security guys who usually swing into work-mode after 11 pm. They have access to every part of the building.
Ready to wow his boss again this morning, Molefi takes a shower, puts on a new grey shirt on the same pair of trousers he wore yesterday. He'll get some new clothes from neighbourhood stores later in the day. The volume of work here won't allow a visit to his favourite Mr Price store in Arcadia.
Molefi climbs the stairs but soon discovers that the boss is still asleep. Not until 8 am does the Soweto Lion get off the bed. Until then, he walks around reflecting over the peculiar nature of his new boss.
Bandele is a huge bunch of contradiction. He claims to be unschooled but oversees a mansion where the security apparatus can catch a motionless mosquito. Again, despite his immense wealth, ladies sometimes turn down his proposal. A man this wealthy should have them flocking around.
Despite Bandele's brashness, he keeps to his words. He's open to new ideas and will adopt them if found to be good. It shouldn't be hard to find oneself in his good books. If only one can work his way into Bandele's heart, the future will be bright.
Gratitude grips Molefi as he reflects on his improving situation. Just last week, he had gotten off the bed with no hope of where his future lay. The desire for a better tomorrow pushed him out to Johannesburg where he hopped across municipalities seeking opportunities he wasn't sure would come through.
Things are different today. A chance meeting with a big man fetches him a job within a week. He's the manager of a huge mansion and the personal assistant to the owner. Food is free and he doesn't have to pay for accommodation. Upon all that, he's given a grocery allowance and there's a 'budget' fund he can spend on whatever he chooses. This is indeed an opportunity to make some savings and turn his life around.
Molefi makes it a point of duty to make his boss happy always. But how does one achieve that? So far, one occasion when Bandele looked pleased the most was when the police officers saluted him yesterday, to which he quickly issued a bulky envelope of cash. The big man likes people who massage his ego.
Well, truth be told, Bandele does deserve accolades for all that he's achieved at such a young age. Whether or not he inherited the wealth is immaterial. Many of his ilks squander millions in a year or two after taking control of their father's wealth.
Molefi picks up a pen and starts digging into his intellectual reserves. He must look for a way to hail his boss since the man likes praises. Motivated by the swift turn-around in his finances, words soon begin to flow.
While Pono goes around with various household chores, Molefi scribbles on paper until Bandele switches on the lobbyroom TV at half-past-nine. Committing his write-up to memory, Molefi stomps up the stairs voicing a loud praise-rant characterised by a trembling voice. How will Bandele react to this idea?
The novel act catches Bandele unawares, prompting him to lower the volume of the TV. Who is making noise in the Polemann Castle? Alas, it's Molefi praising him.
All hail Bandele, the Lion of Soweto
King of Polemann, blesser extraordinaire
ATM in the kitchen, bitcoins in the wardrobe
He doesn't count cash, credit card is breakable
When dollars go down, we're still in business
Other blessers beware; no one compares
The only blesser that can bless a blesser
A thousand ladies on queue, their mothers are clapping
The new Sbu-de-Sergeant elevated above peers
Orlando bows, Soweto salutes
After opening his eyes, Molefi finds Bandele on his feet, jaw on the floor. The laughter that follows reverberate six houses away. Pono, the driver and the security guys exchange puzzled gazes at Bandele's unusual laughter.
The Soweto Lion suddenly stops laughing: "M-o-l-e-f-i!"
Laughing continues.
Molefi bows his head, hands cupped in front of his groin. Pleasing though the boss's reaction, it serves him better to stay humble, allowing the big man to appraise his effort.
Bandele won't keep him waiting for long. He perches on the armrest of the chair closest to his boy. "Start again. I want to hear everything you just said about me."
Molefi raises his hands and tilts his neck upwards. In a voice louder than before, he repeats the praise-rant.
All hail Bandele, the Lion of Soweto...
"I am an extra-ordinary, a king in Polemann Street? I bless blessers." Bandele's laughter changes gears.
He lifts off the chair, strolling around, ruminating. "ATM in my kitchen? Bitcoins in my wardrobe?" He faces Molefi, squinting. "Where did you see ATM in the kitchen?"
"I made it up, sir... I brought it from my head."
"You sat down to think about all that?"
"Yes, sir."
Bandele drops to the chair and asks Molefi to do so.
Staying mute for a bit, he glances at the new hire appreciatively. "You're the best person to work here with me. Those never think of praising me, even with all the good things I do for them. I like the way you do things. Since you started yesterday, you make me happy."
Bandele looks around. "Did you take something this morning?"
"Not yet, sir."
"Get something to drink, quick." He snaps his fingers. "Pick from the fridge. Take anything." He points at the bar, about which Pono had warned of the boss's sentimental attachment.
"I'll drink later, sir. I just want to ask what I can do for you this morning."
"Get yourself something to drink first! I'm too happy with you. These things you say, no one says them in Soweto."
Bandele laughs again. "Take wine or vodka or whiskey. Take ten of them, or twenty, or are you one of those who can't drink wine in the morning?"
"Not really, sir." Molefi keeps his head on the ground, heading to the bar area to open the fridge. His eyebrows rise at the number and variety of liquor which Pono spent two hours arranging yesterday. Of all the assorted brands on display, the lad pours himself some Ceres juice. Getting tanked-up so early will be counter-productive. That the boss encourages it won't be an excuse.
"Should I bring you wine, sir?" He asks Bandele.
"No, just take for yourself." Bandele plods around.
To Molefi's chagrin, Bandele switches on a chat-friendly face, encouraging a conversation between the two, during which the subordinate credits his effort for changing the boss's demeanour. A morning praise-rant will be part of his daily duties, but that will be when the big man's moods drop south.
"Even the police people are happy with our new name – The Polemann Castle." Bandele flashes his yellowish dentition. "I like it too. I like it when people use their heads to think. The last one here was just getting salaries – no thinking, no ideas. I pushed him away."
Molefi listens with rapt attention, nodding. Definitely, this man won't blink twice before sending an aide packing. And one can't hold him to it – he doesn't issue employment contract.
"What do you have for me today?" The boss cuts into Molefi's thoughts.
"You need a bodyguard around you. I mean someone that will watch over you."
"That's true. I agree." Bandele goes to fetch a glass of wine. "One was here before, but he didn't do well. I pushed him away after some time. You see, I don't like muscle people who are not smart."
"People will respect you more when they see a bodyguard around you all the time."
"Hmm."
"Also, pretty ladies will stick around and feel special."
"I don't need bodyguard before women rush to me." He leaves the bar area and continues pacing around, sipping wine.
Molefi stands.
"Women always want to stay with me, for two weeks or even longer, but I ask them to leave. I can't be with a woman for long. They start talking about funny things that don't make sense to me."
Bandele pause by the bar.
"Is your computer set up?"
"No, sir."
"What are you waiting for? But I gave you money to buy things. Is it not enough?"
"Pono said I must —"
"Pono? What does Pono know?" Bandele grabs his iPhone off the glass stool, makes a call to suppliers to bring Molefi's furniture. He then hands the phone over so the lad can give details of the gadgets and accessories.
An hour later, a new Lithium-Combo desk and two Ergo Office chairs arrive from Makro, replete with an HP core i7 desktop computer, a Canon printer, fax, copier all-in-one machine. The suppliers set it up close to the lower-floor living room, connecting the devices to the internet and leaving behind some additional accessories and office stationaries.
The desk is positioned on the hallway in such a way that all visitors will walk past Molefi before they enter the sitting-room or climb the stairs.
"This is good, uh?" Bandele inspects the completed work.
"Yes, sir."
"I know you'll need small cash to run this little office." Bandele drops a wad of one thousand dollars, whirring Molefi's head as his eyes glitter "Thank you...sir."
A security man knocks and enters the house. "Nkosi, the VividAbode people are here. Must they wait or come later?"
Bandele bites his lips. It's month-end, the cleaning company will be around for three hours at least. "Give me thirty minutes."
Bandele turns to Molefi: "Get ready. We must get the bodyguard you're talking about."
"Okay, sir."
On their way out, the cleaning company isn't the only visitor waiting outside. A delegation of Poleman residents, many of whom are old men and women, also want to congratulate Bandele on the new name his mansion now bears. As usual, he hands them some cash and they disperse to their respective flats.
Bandele takes Molefi to M4T Securities, a Sandton-based private security outfit. As usual, he requests a tough guy that'll watch after him at home.
Leaving the place, the group moves over to an old Sandton club where Bandele meets Surya, an Indian model he once dated. "I can't return home empty-handed." He says to his boys in the vehicle, laughing aloud and rubbing his tummy.
***
Enter Akida, a square-jawed fellow from the Democratic Republic of Congo, the guy who gets the nod as Bandele's bodyguard is almost two metres tall with bulgy biceps. No one will accuse him of being handsome. His stern gaze and well-chiselled torso invoke fear in people.
He's been in South Africa for eleven years, seven of which saw him toiling hard doing menial jobs in Hillbrow area of Joburg. His exposure to hard life encouraged him into bodybuilding, following which he became a club bouncer before settling for M4T Securities.
"I have a new assignment in Soweto," he announces to his folks in Hillbrow while packing his bag and heading for the Polemann Castle.
"Don't forget us, bra." They think highly of his new job. Things are tough out here. In an environment where people change jobs every week, supporting their meagre wages with underground side-hustles like swindling and scamming unsuspecting citizens, Akida, with this posting, has an opportunity to build a house back home in Lubumbashi – the ultimate goal of most Congolese immigrants.
But leaving Hillbrow for a secluded neighbourhood of Soweto will be a new adventure for the muscleman who's more than ready for the challenge.