SIMPHIWE SHANDU THE HUSBAND

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SIMPHIWE SHANDU THE HUSBAND 
CHAPTER 47
BAGQIBILE

I looked at myself in the mirror one last time and I am certain that even that braai meat will salivate over me. Thabo is outside already waiting for me. He has stopped annoying me with the god damn hoot. My daughter, a traitor – the minute her eyes landed on him she failed to control herself. She thinks that cars are big toys. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was her honking the hoot there. I don’t want to confuse her and bring different men in her life. We live in a sick word where old men look at young girls in that manner. They should be protected from these ill-favored and misshapen. With Simphiwe it is a different story. He was never a good boyfriend to me but defiantly a goof father for my child and I will never take that away from him. They have a good bond. I step out of the house and lock the door. Today we are just going to his home for a small nton, nton.. Even though Thabo hasn’t said anything to me – I have no doubt that if he asks me out, I will agree. He is a great guy. A man who loves your child is a bonus.
“We are late.” No greetings, just him being on serious mode. “Why do woman take long to set up?” He asks glaring at me then focuses back on the road.
“Because we want to make sure that we look the part and do not embarrass you guys.” I see a smile creeping on his face. 
“Weird creatures.” He makes me laugh. I still do not know why he invited me to his family gathering as a plus one. I am not too sure how I will be introduced as. He opens the radio, and the ride is just filled with soul music throughout the journey. 
“Is this your home?”  He parked outside a very beautiful house. I haven't been to his family home but have been to his mother's house. You know how African peeps are. We have a home where we do our gatherings and stuff. A home known as ikhaya elikhulu. 
“Yes. Looks like we are late and all thanks to you.” I roll my eyes and jump out of the car. I am so nervous. I rub my palms against each other. Sizile is in his arms. The minute her eyes land on Thabo’s mother. She wiggles herself off Thabo. 
“Look at you. Someone missed me.” She speaks. What I know is it will be World War Three when it’s time for us to leave. She ushers us inside the house. So many people. Do not tell me that this is the whole family. It's like they are having a ceremony of some sort. Thabo did not brief me in with anything. He just invited me – and stupid me easily agreed to it.  
“The people we have been waiting for.” She announces. Now all eyes are on us. Thabo holds my hand and squeezes it a bit. If that is an assurance that he is here, then I am good. I smile a bit. 
“Our Makoti is gorgeous.” Already I am dying in some womans arms. I am being suffocated. I am passed from one granny to another. Too many grannies in here. I am tired of hugging people now. Thabo has disappeared out of sight. I want to correct them that I am not their Makoti but their son’s friend. 
“You even look better in person.” These people are weird. If they were my age group, I would have said they are lesbians'. Not that I have anything to do with them. But it's how they are looking at me. They are looking at me like hungry lions. I look at his mother for help, but woman is seated far from us with Sizi in her arms. 
“Leave my daughter-in-law alone MaShenge.” That is Thabo’s mother. I am told to sit on the mat. There are couches moss in this house. 
“We are finally happy to meet you.” 
“Nkosi yami. Thabo did a good job. For how long have you two been dating?” One asks. 
“Ay cha Ma. Me and Thabo...” I am being cut short before I even finish talking. 
“Four months.” I looked up and I found him standing beside me. He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows. I don't member us even kissing. Today was the first time we ever held hands.
“I am happy that you have finally moved on. Wandisa and Mandisa need a mother. And this is the best candidate.” Aibo this granny. Am I looking for a job now? 

NOZIMANGA

One has given birth, but the most painful part is that I cannot be able to breastfeed my little ones. It's been twenty-four hours and already I feel like a failure. What kind of a mother is unable to nature for her own kids? You know when giving birth most expecting parents dream of the moments, they’ll first cradle their little one in their arms and start providing for their most basic needs. But unfortunately for me everything is different. I don’t even know when and how I got pregnant. I just remember absolutely nothing at all. I have tried all I could to remember my past, but nothing came up. I feel very alone and like I’ve done something wrong. I am just depressed. I wanted to have that bond like every other parent out there. 
“Everything alright?” Simphiwe asks leaning against the door. He wouldn’t understand. He is a male and he do not breastfeed. 
“No. I wish I could breastfeed.” 
“The doctor said you are fine just short of iron. Remember you were out for months. So, that is the cause. But probably eventually you will produce milk. I don’t like you stressing. You have been stressing a lot.” He tells me and sits beside me. I take a deep breath. 
“I want you to regain your memory. There are so many things that we should discuss. If I tell you now half of the things we’ve been through. You would not believe it. But I will wait for your memory to be back up and running.” 
“What do you mean?” I ask out of curiosity. Was our life that bad? 
“I will tell you once the time is right. Just wait for your memory to be right.” I nod my head. Looks like there is a lot that he needs to offload. Unfortunately, I cannot recall anything at the moment.  
“For the time just focus on yourself and our kids.” He adds. I look at my skinny bone self. I have really lost a lot of weight. My hands are so thin. The ring mark on my ring finger indicates that the ring has always been there. I wonder where it is. My legs are still wobbly. I cannot stand properly without support. The stitches are also not doing any justice to me. I hope to heal anytime soon because this pain I cannot take honestly.
“Where is my ring?” I ask. 
“At home – it didn’t fit you any longer.” Understandable.  I find him looking at me.
“What?” I ask. 
“Do you remember our wedding. What it looked like?”
“It’s a bit fuzzy. But I remember walking down the aisles.” He smiles and reaches out for my hand. 
“You know that I love you, right?” 
“I know.” The heartbeat drumming in me. It makes me face those butterflies. 
“So, promise me that whatever were face together we will never reach a stage of introducing a divorce.” I frown. Where's all of this coming from? Again, I will not comment because I don’t know why he has been talking in riddles. 
“When last did you go to work? Looks like you spend most of your time here.” 
He shies away. “I am on leave.” 
“Ow,” I don’t believe him. But I will not push him to tell him. We spend a lot of time together. He is fussing over the kids, and it was a heartful moment to watch. I am sure he reached a stage where he has given up on having babies. 
“What do we name them?” I ask. We call them Owele. 
“There is no rush Mkami. We still have time to google some names.” What the hell is wrong with this man. There is no way that I am naming my kids after some google. A name that comes from the heart will do for my kids. 
“I have to get going I am sure the hospital is tired of me.” I smile.
“But I will never get tired of my husband.” I see him blushing. He also has lost a lot of weight. I believe I have stressed him enough and I don’t want him stressing any further.

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