Amile The Queen

Chapter Fifty

***Amile Gumede***

It’s two in the morning. Chickens have been screaming since midnight. That is quite unusual if you ask me, I know its summer, but they don’t usually start this early, they make that noise at three in the morning. Maybe even the chickens can sense the sombre mood of the palace. I’ve been asleep since last night, I couldn’t keep anything down, I kept vomiting and the picture of the creature was plastered in my mind. That’s why mom gave me sleeping pills on top of my already drugging medication and I was knocked out.
I haven’t seen what preps are being made for the so-called funeral. I still stand on the fact that I don’t want it, there is absolutely no need for a funeral, its just going to be a trigger of unwanted emotions. Its easy for the husband to want it, he wasn’t there when everything happened. He wasn’t the one pushing out a deformed dead body and got stiches after that. He’s only suffering by association.
I’m soaking in the tub, I even had the liberty of adding the bubbles, I missed this. I know if mom walks in here, she’s going to start shouting at me because this isn’t the best time to be soaking. But I’m hurt, I’m allowed to do whatever I want to do.
“Wakwami.” I startled and turned around.
He looked like he was ready, he was all dressed up looking dapper. He just didn’t look very impressed with me in the tub.
“Bayede.”
“You don’t have time for all of these things, the sun is going to rise soon.”
“I didn’t ask for a funeral.” He looked stunned that I said that. His face said it all.
I submerged my head under the water.
No, I wasn’t trying to kill myself, that is the last thing I wanted to do, but that’s what he assumed I was trying to do because he came and held me up. Is he mad, now the sleeves of his shirt are wet, who is going to find another shirt for him?
“Amile!?” I’m trying to fight him off. He must leave me alone.
“Ufuna ukusibonisani wena!” his grip tightens around my arms and he pulls me out of the tub.
I’m kicking and screaming for him to let me go, but he’s carrying me to the bedroom. I’m naked and wet, how the hell is he going to place me on the bed.
“Listen to me, I know that you are hurting, we all are, but your life will continue, it’s not over for you. I’m here, your mom is here, there is no need for you to try end your life, how do you expect me to live.” I sit up and wipe the water on my face.
My chest is moving up and down, I’m fully naked. The tone of his voice has completely changed the atmosphere.
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” he looked fuming mad. I’ve never seen this side of him.
“What were you trying to do? Must I remove this bathtub?” okay, he’s worried.
“No Bayede.” I said looking down.
“Get dressed, the sun is rising soon.”
He untied his cuffs and unbuttoned his shirt as he walked out the room. I got a fright when he slammed the door behind him. I didn’t mean to make him angry, that wasn’t my intention and now I feel bad.
I buried my head on the pillow and supressed a cry. Is it not enough that I’m hurting?
I got of the bed after a good two-minute cry session and went to find an outfit in the wardrobe. I’m assuming I need to wear black for such an occasion, I’m a widow. I got a black bodycon dress, it’s the only presentable one I own. it has long sleeves but its just above my knees. I’ll pair it with a white trench coat and my black sneakers. That’s all I have in my wardrobe that looks presentable.
After I finished getting dressed, I sat on the bed and waited for something to happen. I’m too scared to leave the room, just like I was when I first I got here.
When the door opened, mom walked in and behind her stood Nambitha. I was happy to see her, deep down, I really was, but I’m drained. I don’t have the strength to be jumping up and down. I highly appreciate the moral support though.
“What are you wearing?” I don’t know if she’s asking or mocking.
She made me stand up and her face looked horrified. And why is Nambitha still standing at the door?
“You can’t wear this, you aren’t a girl anymore, you are someone’s wife, the king’s wife.” She says it as if I wanted it. She’s being unfair.
“I didn’t ask for it.”
“Don’t speak to me like that. Take off that coat.” I pulled it off and threw it on the floor. I’m not in the mood for this.
“Amile don’t make me smack you, not here, not today.” She handed me a pair of stockings and black heels.
“Wear this and wrap your head.”
Why is she being so difficult with me. I didn’t ask for all of this, its unfair. I put the things on anyway, I don’t want drama, not after what has happened with Bayede, I disrespected him.
I won’t lie I looked much better with the heels and stockings. I looked presentable, like a lady with class. When I looked in the mirror, my curves were defined by the dress, and I didn’t look as broken as I felt on the inside. I let down my braids, they had also run its course, they need to be taken out. I then put the black cloth on top of them and I was finally draped in all black like the widow I am. Mom gave me a scarf and said I must throw it over my shoulders. Now I feel like a farm julia.
I walked out first and met my chomie at the door. She gave me a tight side hug before she grabbed my hand and walked with me. I’m glad she didn’t speak or say those crappy I’m sorries that I’m tired of hearing. That is the last thing that I need right now. It’s almost three in the morning and we are already going to sing hymns for a child that didn’t even open their eyes.
She let go of my hand when we got to the lounge and I felt the warmth leaving my body. MaMzobe came back, she sitting on one of the chairs leaning on her hand, looking very uninterested in everything going on. She’s also wearing black, but she’s rocking it better than me.
This is definitely not a normal funeral because there is incense being burnt around the lounge. The other lady sangoma Bayede was talking about is the one burning it. She starts walking around the room talking. I can barely hear what she’s saying because of the grunts and deep throat chants she gives out.
We then were escorted outside and the royal SUV’s were parked outside, waiting for us. This is really a big deal then. I was in the same car as Bayede, I don’t know why, I wanted to be with my mother, but I don’t think that’s how life works, I don’t get what I want.
When the car started moving, he grabbed my hand and tightened the hold around it. I didn’t even turn my head, I looked straight ahead and tried to regulate my breathing. I want to apologize, I just won’t do it now, it’s not the right time. But I feel terrible for what I did.
We are at a burial site. Looks like it’s where all the Zulu ancestors are buried. The biggest tombstone is the king’s tombstone, its not hard to miss, it even has his picture. Dramatic of you ask me, I hate these types of tombstones. I’m guessing there is already a plot fixed for the creatures body because we are walking across all the crooked and destroyed hedgestones. My eyes are drawn to the cleanest tombstone, with the freshest flowers and the prettiest most elegant design.
Bayede is walking fast, and he’s tightly holding my hand. He’s tense, I can see it in his eyes, they aren’t staying still. I tried to read who it belonged to, and all I caught was Asanda MaNdlela Zulu. Only because it was written in bold. It’s their mother’s tombstone, it’s beautiful, just like her. I bet Mandlenkosi is the one who constantly cleans and takes care of it.
We get to the burial plot. A small hole has been dug and I feel emotional all over again. I wish they gave me shades to cover up my eyes. I’m tired of crying in front of people. I’m really not interested in participating in all of this, so I’ll stand here and hold back my tears and watch what they are doing.
When Bayede left my side, I felt cold. But that feeling was nothing compared to that moment where he appeared carrying that tiny body, wrapped in a skin. I don’t know which skin it was, but I guess because it’s a royal child, that’s what happens. He walked passed me and it took everything in me not to faint right there on the spot.
The last thing I wanted, or needed was to see that body again and have a new image of it imprinted in my mind. He has the guts to carry it. I couldn’t even look when he placed it inside the dug up grave. A fresh batch of tears covered my eyes and clouded my vision. All of this in pure silence. I should’ve known that this isn’t a normal funeral.
It broke my heart watching him speak to the ancestors and the child, how he confessed his love for him through subtle tears. He was doing his all to try and push them back but it’s not easy. This is our moment, we went through this together, although we didn’t endure the same pain physically, we still feel the same pain emotionally.
I gulped down the lump in my throat before I went to kneel by his side and comforted him. I needed that comforting too, but he’s been strong for everyone ever since it happened, he’s been strong for me, he needs this more than anyone.
^
^
^
The car couldn’t drive down to the waterfall so we had to walk. I never knew that cleansing happens on the same day of the burial, but I guess things are done differently here.
I’m with Bayede and Gog’ Malandela. The sun is almost fully risen. It’s only four in the morning. By the time we leave here, it’s going to be hot like hell. That’s why I hate December.
She’s a beautiful lady, Gog’ Malandela I mean. She looks young, maybe early thirties or mid thirties. I wonder where Bayede found her. She’s walking in front singing and the husband and I are following behind her, both lost in thought.
The waterfall looks exquisite. This has to be the cleanest most clearest water I have ever seen. The rays of the sun are bouncing off the water and it looks like a scene from a movie. If my body wasn’t feeling so cold from the inside, I would throw myself in. It’s places like these that I love seeing, serene places.
She smiled at us, both of us before she bowed her head and clapped her hands.
“Mntanenkosi, Ndlunkulu we sizwe.” We responded by clapping back.
The frown on my face can’t be missed. I know I’m the ‘queen’ but I’m the second one. MaMzobe is the Ndlunkulu, the real queen mother. Not me. Why is she addressing me like that? And why is she addressing the king as a prince? The husband isn’t shocked by this. I wonder why.
“We are going to go into the water now my queen.” She said removing the sling bag around her shoulder.
I don’t know if I should strip or not. She’s already making her way to the waterfall. I look at the husband for reassurance.
“Take off your clothes and go.” His voice is very low. I don’t like that.
I nodded though and stripped off my black clothes. Gog’ Malandela was no where in sight, where did she go?
“She’s under the water.” He said from the distance. He can see me looking around trying to find her.
I’m only left in my underwear. I covered my boobs and dipped my toes in the pool. The water was freezing cold, oh hell no. She emerged from the water and told me to come in. I hope I don’t catch a cold.
I got in and let the cold shoot through my body. I don’t even remember the last time I was in a body of water like this. I wade through the water and follow her to where she is leading me. I won’t lie, this is peaceful, the sound of the water, it’s so soothing.
“Ndlunkulu.” She bowed.
She had a bucket with her and she scooped up a pint of water.
“Wena oyohola omama. Mama wezibulo lenkosi.” I held my breath as she splashed the water on my face.
Why is she praising me?
“Okwenzekile kufana nokudaliwe. Konke okwenzekile kwenziwe abaphansi, ungadinwa Ndlunkulu.” She splashed me with water again.
I felt something gripping my leg under the water and I tried to scream but it pulled me deep under the water. It’s the snake I always see in my dreams, it’s trying to coil me in but I fight until I hear it hiss and let go of my leg. Now I feel weak.
When I came up to the surface again, she looked at me, and she smiled. She’s always smiling, it’s like the smile is glued to her face.
“Go and don’t look back.”
I was expecting a cleansing with eggs, milk, candles, like how they normally do it, but she just used water and praises. And it wasn’t just any praises. Didn’t she just help us bury the child? Why is she calling me umama wezibulo? A zibulo is a first born; the child who died was nowhere close to being the first son. I’m more confused than I was when I got here.