Bhekokwakhe

chapter 6

KENOSI

I’m in my office, taking in the view of Maboneng Precinct. My office serves the best display of Maboneng Precinct. People are busy going up and down, everyone chasing their own motives. Pushing through sweats to reach their next point.

MOLEFE’S FUNERAL PARLOUR: it occupies many areas in Johannesburg like Sandton, Newtown, Maboneng, Braamfontein, Rosebank, Melrose, Fourways and so forth. In all these areas each branch has its own CEO. It also works hand in hand with Mokwena’s Funeral Parlour.

The view of Maboneng Precinct gets swallowed as I start swirling in my thoughts. My life has never been coated with strawberries and creams.

It’s not what you read about in books or what you envy in televisions. Those rich wives living their best lives. Yes, I’m married to a man whose pockets are quite deeper than the length of the ocean. But my name seems to be the ruler of my universe. Kenosi – ‘I am alone’. Ke boammaruri kenosi (it is true, I’m alone)

Life is a stranger, you fail to even take control of your own life. That is how traumatic life can be.

My hunger of building a relationship with the only parent I have left, landed me in the hands of a vulture. I always loved the idea of running something my father owned. My father is a businessman. I wanted his recognition. The only way to be all that was if I could prove myself beyond doubt. And I did, trying to mend a relationship I didn’t break.

My mother kissed the earth goodbye when she gave birth to me. That contributes to one of the reasons why my name is Kenosi. Ke lesiela – (A child, who is survived by one parent either maternal or paternal)

I was never my father’s favourite child. But like every child who wanted her father’s love. I did everything to prove myself. I was even sacrificed for that. Kagiso is not the kind of a man. I would ever associate myself with, under normal circumstances. The guy is corpulent. I don’t even want to start on how his clothes don’t fit him, his chubby stomach mostly peek through his shirt. His complexion is a challenge – I always fantasized with a man who is sun kissed. Someone who is dark, tall and handsome. I would have kissed a frog for this prince charming if I got a chance.

And God decided to bring a walking temptation in my house. Who even loves his daughter. What more could a woman ask for?

-

A knock pulls me out of my thoughts.  I don’t turn to look. My Personal Assistant is well trained, she knows that she says her piece and leaves.

“Mrs Mokwena, Ntate Molefe is here to see you” She drawls, turning to saunter her heels slapping on the ground. She knows I’m not much of a talker. Our relationship is calmer, she understands my friction and she doesn’t bother to change me.

Tension irks my body. The more I was maturing the more I realised my father would never love me like a daughter to him I’m just a money-maker.

“Montsho” (Black) – My father prompts. Tension tantalises my body, as I force myself to turn.

“Ntate Molefe” I acknowledge his presence.

Yes! My father doesn’t want me to call him ‘Papa’ . He is Ntate Molefe to everyone so I’m not that special. Well besides, my stepmother and half sister.

“Please sit down, I have a complaint about you” he tells me.

My pupils dilate, I have never stepped on anyone’s toes “What is wrong, Ntate Molefe?” I ask anxiously, my tone pitches low. I purposely look down. He hates it when I stare into his eyes. That is a sign of disrespect.

“Kagiso claims that you are giving him trouble,” he says. His words slice through my heart.

I should have known Kagiso likes to score points using my name. “Ntate Molefe, I have been behaving Kagiso is lyi-“ he interrupts me.

“You are saying your husband is lying? Since when do men lie? Don’t patronize me Kenosi. You better get your w*hiring ways in order or you won’t like what I will do to you. If Kagiso pulls out of this contract. I will bury you, with my bare hands don’t try me” he scowls darkly and waltzes out. Leaving me awestruck. His shoes thud harshly on the ground.

“Dammit, Kagiso!” I taunt loudly, smashing my fist on the table. Everything Shaked on the table. I’m now breathing heavily.

How dare he?

Not only is he abusive, he also acts like a child. Making my life a living hell. Together with my sister. Who people are always fawning over her, acting innocent in front of everyone but trying by all means to sabotage me.

This is what it means to be Kenosi?

-

BHEKOKWAKHE

I haven’t forgotten what transpired. Everything keeps replaying in my mansion of thoughts. Making me desperate to know what he was saying. But his facial expression muttered a lot.

My cleaning has been productive. Where I left my touch everything was sparkling, the floor was gleaming. One thing about me. Cleaning is something that I love. I always loved the scent of detergent, even back in Maphumulo. My rondavel was always spontaneous. Even though I didn’t have much. An environment that is clean is my obsession. Hence this job always makes me happy. I’m getting paid to do what I love besides saving lives.

I embark to the master bedroom. Langalibalele is now awake, strapped on my back… Doing what she does best, her saliva is flooding on my back. She is now blabbing nonsense, I’m counting weeks before she starts saying “Dada” I really can’t wait. She is now shaking. That is her warning. ‘Take me down’

As soon as I step in the master bedroom. Everything is a mess, Kenosi’s belongings are on the floor. Did she make this mess, when she came to change?

I start picking everything and folding it perfectly. As I resume, something greets my eye. A huge underwear lying mercilessly on the flurry mat. I picked it up. Stretch it in my hands.

Whoa, is this someone’s underwear?

Jehovah!

Is this what I signed up for? Picking up people’s big underwear. Would I survive this job? Or should I just throw the towel.

But then this is my duty now and – Ayikho indlovu esindwa umboko wayo. (No trunk is too heavy for its elephant)

“Jehovah, Kagio ugqoka lokhu?. Kenosi Unesibindi” (Kagiso wears this? Kenosi has a liver) – I sneer, laughing like a fool I am and the little rascal behind my back laughs too.

Yes, let’s use this moment to have fun my dear Langa. Tomorrow it will be tough. I’m not trying to body shame him or anything but this is a bomb, I need every little thing to laugh at to keep the job going. And for today, I love it.

Being a servant is not easy therefore as disgusting these moments might be. I should cherish them, crackle as much as possible.