Holding On

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I stumble backward grabbing everything and anything that I possibly can to prevent myself from falling. The 'chest' quickly rushes towards me and lays his hands on the lower of my back and breaks my fall. I freeze for a bit because firstly, I'm still waiting to feel my body land solid on the ground and secondly... who is he again to hold me like this? Anyway, he pulls me toward him but continues to leave his hand at the lower of my back and murmurs "sorry sisi, uright?" (Sorry miss, are you okay?) I look up to see the face of this mellifluous voice and I'll be damned... Yho umhle lobhuti! (This man is handsome) His eyebrows are sculptured to perfection, better than mine if I may say so myself, his eyes are hazel brown and are so captivating. Hai no uThixo (No God) is so unfair, how can He allow for such creatures to exist amongst us? I get disturbed from my staring and train of thought when he coughs and raises his right brow as somewhat of an indication that he is still waiting for a response from me. In my response to his gesture, I find myself mumbling "ewe bhuti ndiright." (Yes sir, I am fine) ... and then? What happened to my voice? Yehake Nomzamo! (yehake is an exclamatory remark like saying 'wow') The 'chest' continues to stare at me as if he is trying to determine whether I am being truthful in my response or not. I start fidgeting with my fingers and feel even more uneasy under his gaze because undijongele ntoni? (What is he looking at me for?) I decide to interrupt the moment and shove him out of my way because he is being weird right now and uyandilibazisa. (He is delaying me) Umhle yena ubhuti yes (he's handsome) and is worthy of being stared at the entire day, no lies detected there but andizelanga lonto apha! (I am not here for any of that) I need to head home!

The rest of the week is rather uneventful although the 'chest' keeps popping up on my mind rent free. Labhuti (that man) is handsome yho (wow). Although I did not get enough time to analyze every part of his body during our 'encounter' because I was too awestruck to move my eyes below his chest... oh that chest, I could still tell that umhle man (he is handsome). The next day, I wake up with a banging headache which I do not normally get, my nose is blocked, my eyes are painful, and they have a burning sensation, it's as though they have sand particles inside. I know I won't be able to function properly when I am this sick and there is no way I am going to be able to teach a class of rowdy grade 10s and 11s in this condition. I call Mr Phakade and inform him that I will not be able to make it to work as I am not feeling well. Being the diplomatic person that he is, he encourages me to take the day off, and go consult with a doctor and nurture myself back to health. After speaking to Mr Phakade, I call my doctor, Doctor Ndamase, and schedule an appointment for 10:00 and fortunately he has a gap in his diary to see me.

After scheduling my doctor's appointment, I lazily drag my body out of my bed and make my way towards the bathroom to take a shower. After completing my hygiene process, I choose to wear a white long-sleeved vest with my grey tracksuit, warm socks, my black Nike Air Force one sneakers and I complete my look by wrapping a woven scraf around my neck just to keep the winter breeze out. With the knowledge that I will probably be given medication at the practice before I leave, I know that I have to eat something before I head out. The one thing that sucks about being sick with flu is that your taste buds are never fully functional which means your appetite levels are also reduced. I force myself to drink a cup of mushroom instant soup just to elevate my sugar levels and keep warm. Once done with slurping my soup, because honestly that is how I was having it, I make my way out of the apartment to the doctor's practice.

The taxi drops me off at the corner and I sluggishly make my way up the street. If I had money, I would have called a cab to pick me up but the way my finances are set up this month, and'kwazi nothini. (I can't do anything) Upon arrival at the doctor's surgery, I am welcomed by a lovely middle-aged woman, who looks like she bathes in milk, yho! (Wow) She has the most beautiful smile and perfectly aligned teeth, her English is that of kids who have gone to private school, siphuma ngempumlo sana. (She is so well spoken) I am asked to confirm my details and the time of my appointment, and once all the necessary protocol has been observed I am asked to wait for the doctor in the waiting area. I don't necessarily like nor enjoy this waiting part much because it means that ngoku ndizofriva izitulo zalapha ngempundu zam (now I will have to wipe down the chairs of this place with my bums, wow). A short while later, I hear a male voice that I can recall even in my sleep calling out "Nomzamo Mcunu?" I raise my head to the direction of the authoritative voice to confirm its owner and I am not wrong as it really is Doctor Ndamase's voice. This man has been my doctor ever since I've lived eNgcobo and because I am a sickling, which we will not dwell into right now, you can imagine how many times this man has seen my face. I respond to his call out with a "yes" while getting up from the chair that I was sitting on, following him to the consultation room.