MELAMINA THE QUEEN

CHAPTER 17

PRINCESS ZISANELE MHLONGO

She finally returned home after her impromptu visit to the Zulu royal palace. As soon as she shut the door of her bedroom, separating herself from the society even if it was for a few hours, she felt like she could finally breathe in peace without anybody judging everything she did, every step she took, even her breathing patterns. She was a princess, blue blooded and raised to be a submissive wife and a queen in her own kingdom one day. Her opinions on life, even her own life, did not mater. Her father’s word was the law and she was nurtured to always obey him without question. Even her mother was the perfect obedient and loyal wife to the king. Sometimes Zisanele suspected that her mother loved the king more than her own kids.

After freshening up, she sat on the bed and turned on her phone. She wished she hadn’t done that because there were so many texts and missed calls from people she really didn’t want to talk to. Just as she was about to switch off the device, a call from the Zulu prince’s aunt Siwenzele, came in. she clenched her jaws before taking a deep breath and summoning the courage and patience to talk to the old woman.

“Hey, auntie, how are you doing? I was just about to call you. Network is so bad here.” She started off and the old woman chuckled.
“Great. I just wanted to know how your journey was, makoti.” The woman sounded jolly for some reason. She was a very overly optimistic person. She wanted to say ‘uneventful’ but she knew that was not the answer expected from her.

“It was pleasant and peaceful. Thank you once again for your hospitality, aunty. You made me feel at home the whole time and I wish I never had to leave.” A people pleaser was what she would call herself.
The old woman laughed. “I am glad you felt that way, mtanami. Don’t worry about your husband. He will come around sooner than you think. Ow, I was actually calling to tell you that he is back in South Africa.” Good for him.

“That’s great, anti. Maybe I might ask my brother to arrange lunch for us in Durban.” She was definitely not going to do that but she would say anything to get the woman off her back, even lie.
“That’s perfect, exactly what our kingdoms need. For you both to get along without being forced to. Anyways, talk soon makoti. Bye-bye.” She hung up quickly and Zisanele was glad for that.

She sighed and dropped the phone on the bed beside her. If only she could travel the world in peace like Princess Melamina, but she was like a caged animal who was going to be shipped from one prison to another. She also couldn’t rebel, not against Inguga. That would be signing her own death warrant. Her ancestors would surely turn their backs on her.

After an hour or so of sitting and dwelling on her stressful thoughts, she was pulled away from them abruptly by a knock on the door. She quickly put on a summer dress and fixed her hair.

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO MAKE YOURSELF PRESENTABLE FOR ME, DOLL!” the intruder announced and Zisanele chuckled before moving to open the door. Her best friend walked in and after quickly shutting the door, they hugged each other for dear life. “My Go, I was so worried about you. Did they treat you well? Did they feed you? I nearly broke into the palace when I saw pictures of you and the prince trending. Like what the fuck?” she was talking so fast but Zisanele was used to her, so she understood every word she said.

“I am fine, and the Zulu royals treat their guests with kindness and respect, especially if they are royalty.” Her friend rolled her eyes and Zisanele laughed. “Come on, Phumzile. They are thee royals. They wouldn’t have mistreated me.”
“So, how was it? Did they parade you around? Check if your hymen is still intact? What is it that they did? What was the aim of the visit if Prince Kuhle left you and went on a vacation with his wife?” Phumzile asked as she moved to the mini lounge inside Zisanele’s room. Zisanele sighed as she followed her. They settled on the couch near the window.

“You know my position regarding the whole Prince Kuhle marriage. So I am not going to comment much on the whys and hows. But if you must know, I saw him.” She made sure to look into her friend’s eyes so she could see who she was really referring to. Phumzile’s eyes popped out.

“OMG! What did you say to him? Did your vocabulary forsake you? Did you make a fool of yourself? Talk. Now I wish I went with you.” Zisanele laughed.
“It wasn’t like that. And he was not as nice as I thought he would be. He thinks I am a home-wrecker there to destroy his brother’s perfect marriage. All his siblings seem to think that. His mothers couldn’t care less about my existence. They just spoke to me out of courtesy.”

“I don’t care about old queens. Tell me more about Nqaba. My God, is he hot as his pictures or worse in person? My coochie is getting excited on your behalf.”
Zisanele cracked up. Having a friend like Phumzile made her miserable life bearable. Which is why she couldn’t complain much about life because, even though it was unfair, she was blessed with a human like Phumzile and she wouldn’t take that for granted.

“Well, he is hot as Venus.” Phumzile squealed and both girls laughed.

…

QUEEN NOMALANGA BIYELA-CARTER

“ZAMA! STOP!” My husband’s shouts are followed by an adorable giggling voice which seems breathless. What is the troublesome Zama up to now? I walk into the house and my husband’s head turn to my direction. He smiles at me before rushing down the corridor after Zama. I just laugh. I don’t even wanna know what they are fighting about.

This one particular day, three years ago, I met a young girl who was heavily pregnant. She was a survivor, running from her abusive psycho boyfriend. She seeked refuge in one of Lee’s shelters. When I came by for a visit, I felt drawn to her. I started visiting her regularly and one day, she told me her whole life story. And then she asked me the most impossible request ever. She asked if I could adopt her baby as soon as she was born. I was puzzled by her request until I learned that she wasn’t going to survive child birth. She died shortly after giving birth to a beautiful healthy baby girl. I may not be able to conceive but God and my ancestors blessed me with the one thing I never knew I needed. At age 2 and a half, Princess Zamanjezi Carter is a strong, healthy, bright, mischievous girl. She is best friends with Futhy’s Milisuthando.

“MAMA!” I hear a screech before I am nearly knocked off my feet. I feel her wrap her arms around my legs before I even see her. She sneaks up on people. It’s one of her many talents. I look down and see her giving me puppy eyes. I chuckle before picking her up. She hugs me with her small arms and I melt. I love her more than life itself. “Mama, ubuyile. (You’re back)”

“Yes, my baby. Have you been behaving?” she nods quickly and Carter snorts.
“Don’t believe a word she says. I swear to God, half my hair is turning grey now because of her.” He comes to us and Zama hides her head in my neck. “Hey baby.” He kisses me and then tickles Zama who laughs loudly before turning and extending her arms to her daddy. Sell out. Why do these kids love their daddies so much? “I haven’t forgiven you yet.” My husband clarifies and Zama just laughs. “How did the meeting go?”

“Imagine going from prosecuting actual criminals to deciding how to punish Ndaba’s son who stole Mzimela’s goat while drink and slaughtered it with his friends?” He laughs. “Being queen is not all rosy and tiaras.”
“Well, after tiring the evil princess, I will come and give you a massage and you will tell me all about your day.” He winks and I smile. He is still as handsome as the day I first saw him guarding my best friend.

“Yeah. I need to respond to a few emails before resting for the day.” He nods before walking away with his daughter. I am blessed beyond measure and I count my blessing every now and then.