Simbongile Princess Ntabeni: The Called (S2)

Chapter Two

We were all still staying at our home (mom's house) because ubhuti decided to sell his house as it wouldn't be big enough for all of us and he was now looking for a bigger one. Mom would also have to sell, or rent hers out. I didn't quite know what she had planned to do with hers. This meant that I was sharing my room with KG for the time being, and shame she adjusted very fast to my routine. Whenever she noticed that I was not "in tune", she would delay coming to the room or just go and spend a few minutes with the kids. She allowed me my privacy even though I never asked for it, or communicated anything of that sort since she moved in.

She walked in as I was packing, and sat on her bed. I could feel that she wanted to say something so I stopped what I was doing and looked at her...

Me: What's up?

KG: Am I also supposed to pack? Like, ndihamba nani?

Me: Uhm, you think uzoshiyekela ntoni mhlawumbi?

She sighed... argh, we were back to that again.

I joined her on the bed and smiled at her unsure face.

Me: I know you know that you're also going, meaning you should also be packing. But, what's really bothering you?

KG: I just... I don't know your family. Lena siya kuyo, what if they don't like me okanye they act weird since ndingekho related? I mean, funerals are a big deal Sim.

Me: I don't know half of them, so don't worry about it. If anyone asks, just tell them you're a triplet kum no Siya. They won't argue with you, abasazi nabo.

KG: And wha-

Me: Please go and pack, sizobizwa for dinner kungekudala.

She sighed, smiling at that very same moment.

When I was done packing, I went to assist mom with the plates. Her mind seemed to be far...

Me: You okay?

Mom: Yeah, why?

Me: Ingathi ucinga kude.

She shrugged.

Me: You know there's nothing you could have done even if ubukhona when he got shot, right?

Mom: I know mntanam, I'm worried about you guys. You recently lost your granddad, and now it's your dad. It must be a lot for you little hearts...

I swallowed hard... I had been trying to neglect my feelings when it came to that thought. I was trying my best to not cry every minute, not think about the blood, the sight, the scene. I was trying.

Mom: He wasn't the best husband in the world, but he tried his best to be the best dad. Forget the Imi period, we all know that he was the best dad.

Me: You're telling me? Trying telling Siya.

Mom: He knows, his judgement is just clouded by anger right now. He knows the truth too.

I sighed,

Me: So, this new brother. Where was he all this time?

Mom: UK I believe.

Me: Uyamazi wena? Did you ever get to meet him?

Mom: I might have heard about him kudala, but I don't know him. Bonga always spoke about his cousins. If they had a relationship inoba bayenze ngoku sebebadala, because back then he was a loner.

Me: A loner ezithandela umntu wayo.

She laughed...

Mom: That, ne bhola.

Me: I guess we are left with memories ke ngoku... sonke.

She opened up her arms, kissing the side of my head. I breathed, retracted from the hug with a smile and finished up what I was doing, then helped her serve dinner. Everyone was around the dinner table, we had dinner, dessert and more conversations relating to the funeral and how we were going to arrange transport and sleeping for that weekend. Once that was sorted, we all went to bed leaving mom cleaning up the lounge. She declined assistance from Kamva and I so nathi samyeka.

IN THE MORNING...

All cars were loaded with our luggage by 6 am, dad's family was already at the mortuary ready to hit the road with him. Unfortunately, we couldn't get there on time, sadibana nabo at the tunnel leaving CT. They basically waited for us there because Mam'khulu instructed them to, umama called her wamxelela that basishiyile kodwa ebebaxelele ba mna no Siya sizohamba ne bhokisi. Apparently Mam'Khulu gave them a piece of their minds, sive ngabo besithi they are waiting at the tunnel for us. We left our bags in the family car, when we got to lena ibino tata there were three elderly men and one woman. I didn't know any of them, neither did Siya. We greeted, got comfortable and hit the road. They didn't even try to ask ba sinjani, which was an indication that bakruqukile kwayilento yethu yofuna uhamba no tata. But I didn't care. Wasn't bothered.

We had a smooth journey, when we got to East London, we had to go to Mdantsane first before going to the village. They took him out of the car, inside and spoke to him. oo Mama didn't follow us, they went straight to Bhut' Masixole's home because that's where they would be sleeping. After about an hour she called and asked ba siphi, I told her so she followed us as we made way to the villages. When we got to dad's home, we were served ukutya k'qala kwindlu enkulu. Mam'Khulu wasibizela kwenye indlu. Mom, Siya and I. We shared a couch, wabuza impilo and then wangena emxholweni.

Mam'Khulu: Ndithi mandinixelele kwangoku ukuba umngcwabo uzoqhutywa yinkonzo yalapha ekhaya, njengesiqhelo. Eyonanto ndiyidingayo kuwe Makoti kukuba usincede nge program, noko asasamazi ncam u Bonga asinokwazi ukuzigqibela. Mhlawumbi nina niyamazi ukuba apha ekukhuleni uye wadibana nabantu abathile who would say a good word on his behalf and about his life. Another thing, u Melikhaya unayo indawana enesigezo, asimazi ke thina, samgqibela esandozalwa sesimbona esisixhaphothi nje. Unayo into yokuzenza indoda yalapha, throwing his weight around, ningamhoyi ncam. Ukuba uyanoyisa, nindibize.

Mom smiled, mam'khulu will never change.

Siya: Abanye abantwana baka tata awubazi bazofika nini Mam'khulu?

Mam'Khulu: Bakhona ebekuthwe bazofika namhlanje, inoba baseza okanye baw'fika kusasa.

Siya: Oooh okay.

We drafted the program, mom was going to print it and then bring it back in the morning. I loved how Mam'khulu still respected and treated mom like one of their own, and the fact that she didn't have a problem when umama said she wasn't going to sleep there, she just came to make sure we had settled in fine. Yena ebezobuya in the morning for the funeral service like everyone else. She was no longer obligated to do anything kwa Ngconde, she was someone else's wife.