SIMPHIWE SHANDU THE HUSBAND
CHAPTER 27
BAGQIBILE
Caring for a sick child can be difficult rather beyond arduous and even upsetting, especially if they are experiencing any pain or discomfort. Not only will a warm bath soothe the sick infant, it will ease aches and pains, and steam from the warm water will also help clear congestion. We tried all of that but nothing worked. Seems like everything is just getting worse by the second and I am afraid of the worst. She is just getting weak and I am failing to even help her. I don’t even know where the pain is.
“Have you ever considered that this babe might need imbeleko?” my sister asks, stepping inside my room. They say parenting is enjoyable but for me it is a completely different story for me. Sizile has been crying nonstop with her temperature on sky rocket. I've tried everything I possibly could on my end but it's pointless. Nothing helps.
“It's not because of that.” I snap shushing her down. She looks at me like she is about to say something but I shoot her a death stare. If she dares to say anything she will be stepping on my already wounded toes. I just don’t have the heart for anything, honestly.
“Can you tell your child to keep it down!” My father banged on the door making me sigh in exhaustion. I haven't slept in days and it hurts. After what went through at Simphiwe’s house, I swore never to set foot ever again or to even come near him. I never perceived that nurturing has so many challenges. How do I bridle all of this?
“You need to tell him one way or another before you lose that child.” by the gods name nothing is going to happen to my child. Nothing is going to happen to this child of mine. I look at her - I am chagrined about her words. “I...”
“Please leave my room and let me be.” I say it in a chivalrous way. She has hurt my feelings no doubt that but she is still my older sister.
“Sizile baby.” here she goes again. That fit again. Sometime heartless thoughts would come to mind wishing that I could squeeze the living shit out of her. I feel like kneeling down and saying what's in my heart. I find myself kneeling down next to my child. I have no one in my corner. I have blocked Simphiwe on every platform. I don't know why it took me so long to see this and for me to see things through. He was never a man enough for me. To know that he has slept with the house help is just another nail in my heart. I loved that man and accepted his material status. As stupid as I am I was ready and willing to be the second wife, meaning to be the second best of it.
“Dear God, I come to you for help and guidance. Give me grace to bear my child's sickness with strength and patience. Bless me, Father, and restore my child Sizile to health...” my phone rings disturbing me from my prayer. I open my eyes and sigh. People have no timing at all. I look at my phone ringing – uncertain whether to answer or not.
“Yes...”
“Bagqibile. You can’t block me from my child’s life.” If I knew that it was this person, I would’nt have bothered picking it up honestly.
“What do you want Simphiwe?” I ask with a hint of exasperation in me. I am not in the mood to nurse his tainted ego.
“I want to have a relationship with my daughter. That is all I am asking for.” he says making my voice to roar in hurl.
“Don't bore me –please. Angithi you chose to...”
“You know what. Forget I said anything. I hope one day you will realize that every child needs their father. Hope you heal that bitter heart of yours.” he says before dropping the line on me. I look at the screen in disbelief.
“He dropped the call on me?” Unbelievable! I will need to give him a piece of my mind and tell him where to get off. Like honestly, how can I let my child leave with a rapist? Now that he walked away from our lives. I will tell Sizile that she was never wanted from the get go. I wrap her up in a blanket and pick her up. I will use my last savings and send her to the doctor.
I find my parents sitting in the dining room having tea. The way my father cherishes my sisters' kids makes me wonder if I am his real daughter or what. I feel anger pumping inside of me.
“Going somewhere?” my mother asks, looking at me. I have Sizile in my arms and I have come to terms with moving out of my father's house, maybe then I will have a healthy relationship with my daughter.
“Yes, to look for a house to rent. This place is toxic for me and my child. There are favorites and I am the least of them.” I say making my father just focus on the television. My mother is hurt by my words but I am just tired bowing down to them. It's time to live for me and do me.
“Ow, I didn’t know that I was also toxic.” she says with her voice filled with so much pang. She wouldn't understand where I come from. She has a loving husband by her side – a man that will move mountains for her and I am just all alone with no one. I stepped out of the house. I will start with the doctor then go look for a one-bedroom house to rent.
