THE OTHER BROTHER
CHAPTER 21
MANQOBA
Just one of those days that he wishes to be home in bed. Eating his mother's home cooked meals. Being babied and shouted at. He is flipping through some magazine trying to forget that perfect dark face flashing right before his eyes. He closes the magazine harshly and clicks his tongue. He can’t be thinking of some girl he doesn't even know. Yes, she is pretty and all but...
“Hmmm...” a groan growl from behind. He swifts his head to the groaning man and leaves a victorious mile on his face.
“Ah Madala. Finally, you are awake. Three whole weeks of sleep. I’m sure Jesus was growing tired of you.” The man just stress at him blankly but later registers that he is not home. His mind remembers exactly what happened. He closes his eyes and lets the tears fall. He almost died and left his children behind. He promised their mother that as a man, he would never fail them and yet he has failed them in the most crucial way possible.
“Khanyisile.”
“You want Khanyisile?” Manqoba asks. Dumisa nods his head. “Drink water first and regain your strength first. I’m sure you need it.” He grabs a bottle of water that was on top of the table. Helps Dumisa to sit up straight making sure not to hurt him where he was shot. He then helps him drink. He finishes the whole bottle and lays himself comfortably.
“How are the pains on the chest?” That is where his main worry is. The bullet missed his heart by an inch. The one that was on the arm was not that deep.
“It hurts especially when I breathe.”
Manqoba nods his head. He nods his head and makes a note to tell the doctor to advise him to increase the dosage. He needs this man alive and kicking.
“Entlek Madala. Why does your brother Ngcobo want you dead?”
“He has everything he wants. I don’t know why he wants me dead. He is living my life.” The pain in Dumisa’s voice is visible.
“Take him out then.”
“It’s not that easy.” Dumisa replies with his eyes closed. This is the topic he has never had for more than thirty years. He vowed to take this to his grave cause he had no power.
“What do you mean it’s not easy?” Manqoba asks grabbing a chair to sit and lend an ear. Sending a hit on someone is waters. Making it even easier, Ngcobo is his brother.
“Ngcobo has ears and eyes everywhere.”
“But you have us now. Everything will be easy.”
Dumisa shakes his head with tears streaming down his face. “The last time I tried killing him he killed the mother of my children.”
“Mother of your children?”
Dumisa collects himself. The pains are shooting at its server. He grabs the sheets and seethes his teeth.
“I will get you some painkillers.” Manqoba says standing up. He fishes for some pills in the emergency kit and finds Fentanyl. “This one will do.” He searches for a syringe until he finds one. He injects him on the other arm. In less than a few minutes Dumisa is out. He will need to record all of their conversations for future references. He closes the bedroom Dumisa is in and walks out. Durban has been peaceful and quiet. They are renting a flat in Durban.
“How is he?” Mkhulelo asks as closes his laptop.
“Sleeping. A lot happened and the old man is hurting. I think there is more to this whole circus. He gave me a hint that apparently Ngcobo killed the mother of his kids.”
“Hmm, interesting.” Mkhuleko leans back and crosses his legs. “It’s too soon to take him out. Let him think he runs the town. When he thinks he has the country at the palm of his hand we will then strike. Starting with his businesses, money and that stupid wife of his.”
“Vele nothing belongs to him. He thinks he owns everything. Nothing is under his name. Even that big house he lives in is Dumisa’s.”
“Damn. But first we need to deal with this transit first. We have cash in transit to hit. After this we are laying low. We will have cash that will last us a lifetime. Starting with the horns. We need to sell them now. I'm sure Ngcobo is tired of sniffing around.”
“We do have a client. Already on the market. 1.2 Mil.”
“Settled.”
MKHUSELI
I look at my shaky hands. I believe today is the day to let out what has been hovering in my chest. I need to bury the past so that I can be able to focus on my future. Opening seems to be a problem. I look at Chetty anticipating whether to continue or not. Rubbing my hands together – to me I am showing a sign of weakness and a failure. I look up and take a deep breath.
“Yes - you are coming right along. Don’t stop. What else happened?”
“It was a stormy day when four men broke into my father's house and tarnished everything upside down. They asked for my father, but he was out as he was working night shift that week.”
“Where did your father work?”
“He was just a security guard in some company in town.” I take a deep breath.
“Alright, go on.”
“It’s unfathomable. No other experience can compare to the ripping and bleeding of flesh, the dread that courses through your heart, the hopelessness that sinks into the pit of your stomach as you are forced to endure the torture. It’s infinity worse when you are too young and too weak to fight back; all you can do is pray for the pain to stop. Time is a cruel mistress when you are suffering; every second stretches into what feels like an eternity. When the act is done, the pain lasted for days, and the trauma will always gnaw in the back of your mind. You are truly never the same, no matter how many years have passed. No matter if you attended behavioral therapy to overcome the incident, that kind of sadism is haunting. It hurts so much. Your attacker doesn’t care if you’re comfortable. Sometimes the more painful it is for their victim the easier they get off. I was raped twice in that same night. The first time he pushed my chest flat against the bed butt lifted, so my lower back and spine would bend at an extreme angle. After that assault I couldn’t breathe after. My stomach was in extreme pain. I couldn’t even stand. I was still in pain forty minutes later which was when the second assault was. That one hurt the most. Think of a squishy lifesavers candy circle. It stretches but only a bit. He wasn’t small and the way he had me against him only made it hurt more. He actually ripped the skin at the bottom. The following day I woke up with blood-stained sheets. It is also about how you don’t want them to do it. A lot of times the body tenses up and try to make it so you can’t be penetrated. The rapist doesn’t care. They’ll get what they want whether it puts you in the hospital or not.”
“Tell me how your mother was violated.”
This one is thee far most of the hardest I must spit out. That night they made me see my mother's nakedness. I feel my heart jumping right to my throat. “Do you need water?” Chetty my therapist asks. I shake my head no. I just want to get this over and done with.
“After being violated twice that night. I was dropped on the floor like useless garbage. I was young but knew exactly what was happening. I had no energy to fight for my mother. Fight for myself even. I was in so much pain and I hated how weak I was. My mother was stripped naked. The man who was wearing a hat smiled and said, ‘this is all mine for the night’. I knew exactly what he meant. I tried pulling that man's legs and begged him to stop but he kicked me so hard on my face and chest that I felt my last breath popping. I was forced to look at me mother's nakedness, they made me watch that man having his way with my mother until I couldn’t take it no more. Tears were all dried up. I had nothing else that was left in me. The next thing I noticed when I woke up is I was in a hospital bed with my mother beside me. The sheets were bloodied.”
“How did the trauma feel the following day?” She asks.
“Everything was playing like a tape recorder in my mind and still does. I still see and feel my mother crying for help. Sometimes I just shut down like I am falling into a dark deep hole. Everything hurts. I sometimes smell him. Hear his awful laugh. The pain on my chest still cease to go away.”
“That will be it for today. Will see you at the same time tomorrow. I must say you are making huge progress yourself. If you keep on moving in this direction you will find yourself feeling like a born again. I am so proud of you.”
“Thank you.” I need to be out of here. She has no idea how much I hate having these sessions. But if it brings be peace and happiness will do it till Jesus comes back from the rock he is hiding from.
