Phakade Lami (My Forever)

Chapter 40

I was still young and God knows that I was still very young, when I jumped in the bed and decided that I am going to spend the rest of my life, with a Man.
Like how could I be so stupid to settle with someone that has been lying to me, since day one.
I was sure that I was making progress with this family but no, Harriet’s son had to shake me to the core, with his latest vision from his ancestors or should I say devilish grandfather, Benjamin Dlamini.
It’s only God that knows how much I hated that man, and still hate him to this day because if he had not met up with my father or rather killed him, then he would have still been alive to this day and I was never going to be wearing this colourful bead that always makes me look gay and maybe just maybe, I was gonna have a normal life but then again could Nomashenge and her underground gang rest.

They have so much grown from a simple family of seven, to this huge family of 16 people including Nathan and his upmarket village wife, which makes it 18.
Speaking of Nathan’s village wife, I respect her but she likes things, also her.
I mean she’s always spending money, as if she’s working for it and you should see her own house, somewhere a bit far from the rest of us.
It’s beautiful though but still, it screams Paris-Stuck-In-The-Mud.
As for my dear Nathan, he has changed, he looks handsome.
No More Sun-kissed-Yellow-Teeth.

The Children, My Children have been excluded from this particular meeting, that is being held in the main house and I made sure that every single family member, including the one that I don’t like, came for this meeting, after all it’s about her son, whom I love so much.
The dinning room is full and it’s a beautiful long glass table and a grey table cloth on it.
I Love glass, it represents the Fragile-ness of this family.

“I am really sorry for the disturbance caused and I know for a fact that everyone here, is a busy person with a busy dairy,” I say looking at all of them.
You can clearly the suspense on their faces, I hate doing this but I have no choice.
I sent them messages, two days ago and they all arrived this morning, except for my dimpled husband, who arrived days ago.
In fact I arrived in the afternoon, with Zithulele and Buhle, and he came in the night, around 2:00am.

“It’s absolutely no problem, you are free to proceed... it’s just that we are tired from the trip... that’s all,” the older brother says.
I have always admired his strength and his weird dimples, every woman including Nathan’s village material is scared of him.
Well, except for me.
I established that, a very long time ago.
But still, I carry so much respect for him, after all he is like my father-in-law now.

“Well, I won’t take up much of your time but I wanted all of you to know that, they is a problem with one of my children, particularly my son... Zithulele... like I said in the message that it was a matter of life and death,” I say.

“Excuse Me, who is your son... and what has my son done,” she says – yes she has started again, the self proclaimed demon that won’t let me have my peace.
I wished that she just stayed in the United Kingdom, attending to those restaurants of hers.
I look around and everyone has that face, it’s like everyone is saying in their hearts ‘she has started again’, obviously she started again but not today, I am most certainly not in the mood to entertain her and her Zulu drama.

“Well... apologies for that Harriet but all of the children in this home... are my children, just like how they belong to Angelina, Lerato and Ziyanda, and Nathan’s wife... their our children,” I say, looking at her, and slowly she sits down her arrogant attitude.
Thank God, now I can proceed and why did I even mention Nathan’s wife, she never comes to any of our private functions, unless it’s in Nqamakwe and she wants to show off.
Typical Village Material.

“Well in the past few recent weeks, Zithulele approached me and told me that Buhle’s eyes are in a village pot somewhere, it was after their birthday and he spoke with a very dangerous tone... much similar to that of your father,” I say.
I am not done but that has already made them shiver in their pants and skirts, I have always said that these men are blessed with a strong heart to kill but stuff that cross into the spiritual world, they shiver.
So I am guessing in that part, I am a champion, after all I have met with their mother and that’s how I got this bracelet, I don’t know about this skinny witch and how she got, her own.
I always wanted to get this bracelet from my father, since he was the chosen one but unfortunately, I got it from their dimpled mother, Nomashenge Khoza.

“But Ma, is he saying the truth... because these things are usually found in those Nigerian movies that you like watching...  and you said, life and death... but they is no sign of life and death in this thing,” that’s Nkosi.
I knew he was going to drag, my love for Nigerian movies, into this.
These Dimpled Men.

“I was not finished Koko, two days ago, Zithulele met me in the kitchen preparing supper and again we started a conversation as usual and he ended up in that state, where it seems like he is being controlled and he said to me, I quote 'I see a child with dimples and that child is crying for it’s mother, but it’s crying from a very dark room’.... he stopped and he continued again to say that, it’s Angelina child and to him, that child is his younger brother but then again the keeper... the person whose keeping the child will not rest until that which HE brought into this house, is given happiness’ and if not, I’m afraid that DEATH Will Be her Portion and she won’t go alone... but with someone close to the family’s centre piece, that’s what he said to me... that’s what made me scared,” I say as I look at all them and the sudden anxiety and confusion that has befallen on them.
Very good, at least now they will understand the importance of this matter.

It’s DEAD silence though and it’s filled with an atmosphere of fear but I can see that the bald teddy bear is about to ask questions, since his wife has been mentioned.
Let him shoot, I am ready.

“Look, I don’t understand anything that you have just said... why would we possibly believe a young boy that is eight years old, for crying sake... maybe it’s all your imagination because I am not believing any of this,” he says, with his eyes glued to Angelina.
I have always loved their LOVE STORY, they met at a hospital, it’s those types from Telemudo – yes I love telenovelas also but I wasn’t looking for an actual one, in my life.
PERIOD.

I see the tears in Angelina’s eyes and I am conflicted to comfort her but the fear that she might snap at me, makes me wanna pee in my intersex pants. 
She can’t handle it, the entire attention, she just can’t and that’s why she’s running away.
Nganono tries to follow her but big brother doesn’t want, can you image, I want him to go and comfort his wife but Mabutho doesn’t want, dimpled man.
I can see my husband and he is not happy, and I know that he wanted me to tell him first but this is about the entire family, not us and when I say us, I mean they is too much drama that is yet to be unfold and as for the third leg in this relationship, it looks like she doesn’t want to stay in place, any longer.
It’s as if, she is scared or something but Modimo knows that I won’t mind her, not today.

Now why are they all looking at me, I don’t want to look for a solution, I want to be present, when THEIR looking for a solution.
I tried on my own but I failed.

“I was once told by someone that I should let the MEN in this family to handle this, so that’s exactly what I am excepting from you.... handle this or else they will be trouble,” I say and quickly try to take my leave before anyone stops me but no, the assistance to the devil, will not allow me to walk away from this explosion.

“And who is this centre piece,” she says, now I am forced to turn around and meet with her dark skin face.
I have always loved her dark skin and the fact that she always rocks those heels from Prada.

I see all of those faces but I won’t flinch.
That’s the thing about me, I am not scared to look in their eyes, anymore.
They changed me.

“MaKhanyile, The Centre piece is ME,” I say and I quickly take my leave.
I am not ready to get burnt.
I love them so much but this one is not for me.

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I know everybody hates me and before God, I support their hatred and that’s because I represent things that they hide.
I represent Vengeance, everyone in this world including the ones that decided to kick the buckets, have once wanted vengeance.
I also represent pain, I know for a certain that every single creature in this world has been hurt, and others this pain is much deeper than a stabbing wound.
And lastly, I represent myself, I am a fighter and I don’t give up, it’s something that is born in us Khanyiles, I sharpen my nails because with them I get to rip my enemies apart, whilst smiling with my beautiful dark skin that I apparently inherited from my dead mother, she died when I was still a child. 

Now back to why I ask for this focus, I have a problem and I need to solve it, before it’s too late.
I, Harriet Khanyile Dlamini KaDikana, has worked extremely hard to be here and enjoy, every single thing that is in this family.
So I won’t let a son of an Intersex man rob that from me, not when I am trying to secure a future for me and my family, and speaking of them, they have totally benefitted from this ‘dark works’ of mine, that are being fully sponsored by my dear father.
I know you want to know, so I will tell you and feel free to judge me, you won’t be the first or the last.
I am responsible for Angelina’s childlessness and Buhle’s blindness, I am also responsible for pushing my husband’s attention away from that intersex, including other miscellaneous stuff.

“Mama?”
Jesus!! Christ of the nearest wrath, since when did this sneaking in start and I don’t know if he knows but I have been trying to stay the fuck away from him.
Ever since his original intersex mother said in the afternoon that, he was being controlled by Bab’Dlamini, my dear sex crush.
I don’t want anything to put me, in closest proximity with this dimpled boy, people like that can notice things easily.
And don’t ask me why, I called my own dead father-in-law, my ‘SEX CRUSH', I mean that man was epitome of black beauty and handsome.
It’s only Zimele that took his handsomeness, and not all of it.
The voice, was fifty percent chance.

“Mama, why are you locking yourself inside... everyone is meeting up for supper and you need to be there,” he says.
He looks like his uncle so much, sometimes it feels like I am talking to Nganono.

Let Me Be A Mother And Smother This Dimpled sperm.

“Come here and have a talk with your mother,” I say.
He comes and sits next to me, on the bed but he is cold.
So I put my arm, around him.
“Now tell mummy, how have you been and how is school,” I say.
I last saw him months ago and he has become so tall, I wonder what happened to the body of his twin brother.
Now why I am thinking about that, let me mind this boy here and I can’t even hear what he is saying.
It’s as if he is super cold, when he is with me but different with Hector, I know what you thinking, forget it.
This is My Son.

“I have been doing well... I even passed my exams in term 3... we start our final exams... which is more like assessments, next month and Ma, has been helping so much,” he says.
That Ma, again... it irritates me and makes my skin crawl, I just hate how the entire family, loves and adore a simple mixed breed.

“I am so happy,” I say hugging him but he clearly doesn’t enjoy it, so I am leaving it.
I want to strike, when the iron is still hot.
“Now... Zithulele mntanami... I want to know something... it’s regarding your,” I stop, because I don’t know whether Hector meant dreams or visions.
“You want to know about my dreams,” he says.
This boy is gone scare me and I hate being scared, it pushes me to the edge but I can’t kill him, this boy is my ticket.
“Yes, my boy... I am your mother after all,” I say with a pasted smile.
I am clearly not enjoying this conversation with this boy.
“Well... it’s just dreams, or are you worried that I might dream about,” he says, with that small boy smile.
I swear I want to slap him but Harriet, breathe and control yourself, this is still the same son that you wanted to have, despite the fact that you stole him.
“How can you say that, but it’s fine, if you don’t want to tell me, I will accept defeat... just know that, I will always appreciate it, if you always tell me first before you tell... him, about those dreams,” I say.
“But how do you want me to tell you, what I am dreaming, when you are hardly ever around... I only see you once in a while,” he says.
Okay, let’s wrap up, this conversation.

“Look, My Boy... I understand but Mama is always busy trying to make sure that you have everything that you need,” I say and immediately he stands up and stares deep into my eyes.
WTF
“Look, Mama I once read a book from Bhuti Prince and it said that... they is no place, where the sun doesn’t shine... it even shines in Antarctica... that means that, nothing is hidden away from the sun... I can smell the fear Mama... you are keeping something but unfortunately it will be revealed by someone else not me,” he says and immediately he wakes out on me.
Like seriously, did this dimpled boy just take his two giraffe legs out on me.
I shouldn’t have left him behind, I should have taken him on those trips across the world with me, in that way, he wasn’t going to blabbing his mouth.
And what did he just say about me keeping something, I swear if I never breastfeed or raised this idiot, I was going to kill him, right there on the spot.

Mqundu Ka Dimples!!

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THE DINNER TABLE was extremely cold in terms of atmosphere, everyone and everything was quiet and despite the fact that Ziyanda and Lerato, including Nathan’s wife, made a glorious meal, I couldn’t bring myself to eat the food, without the presence of Hector, the one man that I will die for.
I accept that I have been an absent husband... and that I have grown so much from that ordinary taxi driver to a 34 year old billionaire man with no absolute idea of how things always go wrong with his family.

I mean, can’t my own father just rest in peace and let me and my brothers have peace and happiness.
He physically and emotionally ruined our lives, when he was still alive, so why can’t that demon just rest in PEACE.

He was the first person to tell me that I have done a good job and guess what job, obviously you guessed it right.
It was KILLING someone.
I know that I was super close to him as his favourite son and Lastborn but still encouraging murder at such a young age, was such an awful experience for me.
Every time I closed my eyes, I could see that face and the tears that were streaming.
But then the issue was that, I knew how to use a gun, at a very young age, maybe that’s what prompted him to make me a murderer at a young age.

I think I was 21 and, privately me and my brothers were already dripping in money, thanks to those Pakistanis that used to and are still selling counterfeit goods in the JHB CBD.
He called me and my brothers, and told us, to our faces that, it was time for us to join him, and Mukuna, in their heists – yes, Mukuna and my father were besties.
At first I wasn’t ready for it, but then I wanted to make him proud and to prove my loyalty to him.
I WANTED TO SHOW HIM THAT I WAS A MAN.

Now, I Zimele Dlamini KaDikana is a full grown man – a beard man that has killed many people and others I have even stared at them, in the eyes and took their lives.
Though it still makes me feel uneasy but I have shed blood and what makes it worse, is that I have brought children in this world.
Children that I love with all my heart and soul, in fact all the children in this family are my heart and soul.
As for the spouses, Hector will forever be, my favourite and God knows that I am telling the truth, that if I can get a chance to divorce that skinny dark witch, I will not look back, but the thought of co-parenting, makes my skin crawl.

“And then, what are you doing in my room,” he says, as he comes out the bathroom with nothing but a white towel covering his lower body.
God, I still need to have a conversation with you because, you created a goddess for me.
How can a simple human be so beautiful like this and what’s worse he has taken some of my mother’s features.
He can see me, noticing his features and immediately he puts on the gown that is near the hanger.
Why did he have to do that, because my anaconda was already raising.

“I asked you a question, what do you want Dikana,” he says – I personally like it, when he calls me by my surname but I also know that he only calls me by any of my surnames, when he is angry.
And I don’t like seeing him angry, it makes me sick.

“I am sorry, but with the way things are, I wanted us to talk things over... like adults,” I say.
I am standing at the entrance door, which I have locked 🔐 and placed the key in my pocket and God knows that I am not leaving this place, until we have discussed, the matter at hand.
They don’t call me STUBBORN for nothing.

Now look at him, he has totally covered his ‘gorgeous body’ in that grey gown.
I hate that beautiful sight, being closed up in that hot place but anyways it’s my own and will forever be MINE.
That I am assured of.
“Look, I know the type of demon that I married... and it’s that type that is obsessed with making millions... you guys are just replicas of your father, the only similar thing now, is that I am being in the same position, your mother was in... in fact all of the women in this family, are going through the same thing,” he says.
I know that he is right but I am waiting for the right time to strike.

I take few steps but stop at the bed and I look down, I begin to brush my feet on his beautiful Egyptian carpet, he has another one in the house, back in Johannesburg.
I don’t why, I like brushing my feet, it’s not only me but all of my brothers do the same thing.

“Look, I know that you are telling the truth but... things have changed and I have changed but my love hasn’t,” I say, finally raising my head to meet his eyes.
Still it’s not YET TIME.

“Look, Zimele... I have sacrificed a lot for this family and... I am beginning to regret that decision... I mean... it’s almost as if... you don’t want me... anymore,” he says with tears.
Now it’s time, I know that I am taking advantage but I hate it, when he cries and it’s the only time, when he is nice.
Remember the day, he got the news of his father’s death – yes, now you remember.

I move to give him, that hug but unfortunately he gives me, the hand.
Has he really changed that much, over these past years, or maybe I was too fast.

“Dikana, I am not that fragile anymore... that stage passed a long time ago but I have something that I want to tell you,” he says.
I don’t like, when he is like this.
I might have to brace myself.

“Well, I am listening,” I say.
In all honesty, I am not listening, I am not even interested in what he wants to say.
All I want is for his head to be carefully placed on my bare chest and me, brushing my ugly fingers down his back – yes, I know that I have those nasty ‘work-alcoholic’  fingers but they usually get taken care of, by the pedicure and manicure, or whatever you call it.
All I know, is that I take care of my fingers.

“Look, I have been thinking about this for a while... immediately after we sort out, Zithulele’s problem... I am going for an operation in Cape Town,” he says.
I never knew that my other-half was sick and that’s because he doesn’t look sick.
In fact he recently added weight, it should be me, who is supposed to be thinking about an operation to have this Benjamin Dlamini heart removed.
I look at him, from head and toe, and he notices the change on my face.

“Hector... what’s the problem,” I say and this time, I am moving towards him.
He is my husband and I am not moving backwards, I am going to stand in front of him.
I have always been taller than him, and the second tallest, after Nganono, then Mabutho and lastly Nkosi.
He is so short that his wife is Ziyanda, is taller than him.

“Talk to me, do you have a brain tumour or something... or is it cancer... please tell me,” I say.
I hold his hands and those tears that I wanted begin to stream.
But I don’t need them now, I want answers.
But remember he said that, he was past that stage, people sometimes.
I am not ready to lose my ‘husband/wife’, I lost my mother, when I was 9 years, I was still a Kid and I never healed, because until today, I don’t where her body is.
I immediately hug him and he cries, and slowly I rub, his back and he cries more.
He Stops.
“Listen, I want to have my womb removed,” he says.
I immediately freeze and bring him out of my embrace and my eyes meet with his own.
He is Serious.
Maybe, my ears didn’t hear him very well, so I am going to ask again.
“Hector Masilo KaDikana... what did you just say to me,” I say, with my teeth clenched.

“You heard me, I am tired of using the stomach cleaner to clean out your sperms from my belly... I want it, out” he says.
Now I am angry and I don’t want to be angry at such a time, most especially when my family is faced with a crisis, concerning my own son.
So how can he hurt me, like this... How can he, I am out of words.

“Tell me why,” he is quiet and I hate when I talk to someone and their quiet.
I FEEL disrespected.
“Hector!!, I am talking to you,” I say and I don’t care, if the whole yard will hear me.
“Because I want PEACE!! Dlamini... I lost one child at birth and I lost the other one to blindness... if you want children, then Harriet will give you more... I don’t want to go through unnecessary pain and discomfort... only for the child to end up crippled this time... and besides I am a man and this job is for women right, don’t you have a wife in Harriet,” he says.
I am shaking, I can’t stand this, I am taking my leave.
I immediately leave his room before I do something that I might regret, I mean he knows that I love him, so much, now why would he HURT me like this.

BLOODY TSWANA!!!

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2023.