My Coloured Zulu Man

Chapter 40

Langa

We are still at Menzi's house, i haven't left for my house yet. Menzi's the reason why, and its been long enough but good at the same time. When he comes from work he takes care of Mbuso while i rest, for my night shift. That three hour nap means alot to the wrinkled mother. My skin has gone dry haven't had the me time since forever. The only thing i get is the three hour nap, it's kind off weird because we haven't labelled out whatever thing is happening between us. We'd have our moments where we just stare at each other with deeper emotions, sometimes kiss then get disturbed by my favourite goat or Asemahle. She loves Mbuso, we fight quite a lot in the morning, she'll cry wanting to stay with the baby and skip school, Menzi gave mam'Veronica, Asemahle's nanny a break, actually i volunteered to look after Asemahle after school and get her ready for school, of which i now regret.
Its my last weekend as a stay at home mom, Monday its back to work, and I'll be moving out tomorrow, this time i'll pull my serious face on Menzi. Everytime I'd pack my bags he'd laugh or take Mbuso for a drive locking the doors, leaving me behind. Who takes a three month old for a drive a fussy one for that matter.
Amahle had gone to her boyfriends home, in Kwazulu-natal to attend a funeral, i wanted to accompany her, but because of having a goat i couldn't  come with, and not to mention a loud one, imagining turning up to a funeral to help then it ends up in people helping you manage with your child.

On her return, she fought with her car, banging its windows, the neighbors held her down as she was going ballistic with her car. Menzi pulled her to her house and that was the last time i saw her, which was a week ago, I've knocked several times, called her, even threaten her. She just won't come out, her workmates, the boyfriends parents came, and a strange guy called Siyabonga came, but no vail. Maybe her family would cheer her up, so i called her mother in hopes she'd come talk to her daughter "sawubona ma(Goodday ma'am)" i greet her on the phone "ukuba nengane nje eyodwa asisebona abantu" she yells. I have a very respectable relationship with Amahle's parents "mama nkos'yami ingan'yami iyahlupha angikwazi nokunyakaza" i complain "but i have something to discuss with you" i say "and then come over, if it's that important then come over am not discussing anything with you over the phone Langa" she hangs up. What do i do now, i guess I'll just have to get Asemahle from school and drive to Amahle's parents house.

Mbuso's asleep, i have Asemahle with me, I've called Menzi to alert him about our trip and he's fine about it so were good. I drive us to the mall first to get some goodies for our 30 minutes trip, i have Mbuso on his stroller, of which is giving me issues right now because here i am in the parking lot looking like a idiotic mother yet helpless, Asemahle wants to hold Mbuso, am trying to fix the stroller, Mbuso is screaming. I need a break something in me tells me to walk away from my responsibilities of being a mother but again i love my son i just wouldn't dare.
Finally everything seems to be in order, i have the stroller done, my goat's inside calm as millpond, we all walk towards the entrance of the mall, and honestly i feel like I've made it in life. You know having a well paying job, a car, an apartment, and a child, is probably the best. Not to mention am in those rich moms going for a stroll outfits, and the cute little girl next to me perfects the equation.

I browse around picking up a few things for my self and Asemahle, decided to make this our day and not include Mbuso, just a bit of shopping before we head out to Amahle's parents. Woolworths will do for some snacks "saphinde sahlangana(we meet again)" the so familiar voice says. Its him "sawubona Thabo(goodday Thabo)" i try to ignore him by counting the stars in the so invisible sky. He scotches down next to me reaching for Mbuso, "is this him?" the nerve to ask me crap "can i have him" he looked up to me "ungangilingi mina weSathena 'am getting married soon, it's best we part ways and am sorry to say but I'll never be a father to your child, take care of yourself ' those were you exact words when we met last at the florist usuyenzani manje wena, what exactly are you having, whose child are you talking about" i scream at him with no care if anyone can hear me "Langa i know i might have said those words but this is my child" he replies. Oh so now he knows "who told you that, did you perhaps had a DNA test to know if this is your child or not, what happened to the i can't be in that child's life" i ask furiously "i know what i said okay, the point is am here trying to own up to my mistakes, we can patch things up and be a family" may fire and thunder strike him to an early grave "as I've said ungangilingi Sathane not today" i grab Asemahle leaving the psycho by himself. The nerve to think that we need to patch things up, not even Jesus can fix our relationship, its not even a relationship anymore. If there's anything I'd say to him would be thank you for dumping a sperm inside me, it turned out to be the beautifulest thing, even though it has daddy issues but thank you.
My mouth wont shut up, am still thinking of what just happened, and in my whole drive i was murmuring the whole time, Mbuso behaved, he was went shut, imagine him crying while Thabo was around, maybe he sensed that the devil was around so he went shush.
Getting to Amahle's mom i told her about her child, and here we are driving back, she might do something to get Amhle out of that hell hole she's in.