Bhekokwakhe

Chapter 42

BHEKOKWAKHE

Few days later.

Yesterday we took a flight to come to the land of opportunity – well for some, not all. Everyone who has set foot in Johannesburg has their own chronicle to tell.

We didn’t bother to book into a hotel. Since her urn would come tomorrow and we will cater a small memorial service, as a way of saying farewell and setting the doves free. Ntombikayise’s apartment welcomed us with warm hands and we have been using Nobuntu’s room.

Since Nobuntu has occupied her bedroom. Prompting that she wants to ooze her friend’s last drop of scent on earth for the last time.

I’m sitting in the bedroom. Kenosi and Langa are somewhere around the house and a newspaper is occupying my hands. My mind blares somewhere. Sometimes I’m asking myself that I’m here to ensure that Kayise is really gone. To ensure that she won’t bother me again, ever. Around the clock, I wonder why BabaMbatha dumped this on me. I understand that her family is nowhere near the scene but why me?.

He claims that I need to let go of my anger in order to be capable of Loving Kenosi without a past holding me back.

‘Ndodana ungacabanga ukuthi lokhu akukuthintanga, noma kunjalo uthukuthele. You need to let that go’ (Son you might think this hasn’t affected you, however you are angry. ) – I recall his words. Truly speaking, Ntombikayise ripped my trust and my love. I really want to love Kayise fully. There is a withdrawal pull. I’m worried about what will happen if she leaves me. What if she realises I’m not good enough and packs her bags, fly away from me. My own insecurities are eating off me.

Ntombikayise has taken a lot from me. I didn’t realise I was in the ocean, drowning with trust issues and bruised ego. Hence Baba said abaphansi (Ancestors) – they are giving me a chance to heal.

Why does it feel like they are saying, ‘if you know that she is gone, she won’t hurt you’

I’m reading the newspaper. I have been doing a follow up on the case of Kenny. Just looking at him leaves me in the middle of the midst. Just the thought of him, gawking his eyes on my daughter with that eye.

Radiates anger from the chamber’s of my heart. ‘How could a grown *ss man, look at an infant like that?’

‘Radebe Kenny denied bail, after he was seen as endangering society. Especially to single mothers…’ I was reading the newspaper. A part of me is rejoicing that bail is denied. There is also a part of me that wishes they could allow him to roam around the streets; so I can deal with him, accordingly. No man had the right to look at my babies in that manner.

Yes!

My babies, I didn’t make a mistake. It takes a village to raise a child. In this category of babies even boys are involved.

The newspaper’s words continue feeding my brain and soul, ‘… Radebe Kenny’s cases from the past seem to be reopened. Now he is facing a bunch of cases. His past came crushing right in front of his eyes. Mother’s are ready to testify. Eyewitnesses that disappeared into thin air seem to be resurfacing. Would Kenny survive this case or would he get a life sentence?. Committing suicide is considered to be a sin the book of Holy spirit. Yet it took Ntombikayise’s death for cases from the past to start dancing supporting her statement. That she took a bulk of rattex trying to protect her child. To protect more children…’ I learnt a heave closing the newspaper rubbing my eyes, wishing I could scrunch my brain. Everything feels surreal.

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These journalists never get tired. Few days ago they were roasting Ntombikayise. I will just quote some of the unccay information they have written there.