Unhinged

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Before we went home yesterday, Siya passed by DoRego's and bought us some fish and chips as we're both too exhausted to even think of standing in front of a stove to prepare something. When we got home, I made Wami something to eat while Siya and I munched on our food. Throughout the entire afternoon and evening, we had to be on the lookout for Wami to not eat anything hazardous or touch something that could harm her. Basically besisebenza. (We were working) To say we were beat by the end of the night, would be a euphemism. Having Wami for the night was an eye opener for the both of us. Her presence just cemented how drastically our lives are going to change when our babies arrive, and just how exhausted we're going to be. We thought we would catch some rest through the night, but boy were we mistaken. The little diva hardly slept. She would sleep for an hour or two then wake up screeching. Siya woke up most of the time to feed her or change her nappy though we were equally exhausted. When I tried to intervene, he instructed me to rest, claiming that I needed the rest more, so I let him be.

I wake up with a tired body and groan as I drag my body up from my sleeping position to lean on the headboard. I sweep my eyes through the bedroom in search of Siya or Wami but neither are here. I hear faint voices in the background, and I assume that they belong to the inseparable duo. Before heading out to them, I grab my phone on the pedestal and give my mother a call to find out how they slept. "Nono," she says as soon as she picks up the phone. She sounds a little bit better, more rested, than she did yesterday. "Hi mama. Nilele njani?" I ask while gently rubbing my belly. (How did you sleep) I hear her sigh, which makes me anxious, before responding, "Siye salala mntanam kobobunzima. uAnga unyamalele phezolo." (We have slept, baby in this difficulty. Anga disappeared last night)

"Hayi mama, uthini? Inoba uyephi?" (No mom, what're you saying? Where could he have gone)

"Andiyazi sisi, andiyazi nyani. Kodwa uye wasithumela umyalezo ngalentsasa esithi uyaphila, singakhathazeki." (I don't know, I really don't know. But he texted us this morning saying he's fine, not to worry)

"Uyamkholelwa?" (Do you believe him)

"Ndizothini? Akukho nto endinokuyenza. Inoba apho akhyo uzilela umnakwabo and andokwazi ukumgqibela indlela amele azile ngayo. Logama nje esaphila, yi lo nto ebalulekileyo." (What will I say? There's nothing I can do. Maybe where he is, he's mourning his brother and I can't tell him how he should mourn. So long as he's alive, that's all that matters)

"Ndiyakuva ma." (I hear you)

It's clear that this entire ordeal is draining her and causing her so much heartache and as much as I want to hurl insults at uAnga for behaving this way, I understand what my mother is saying, we really can't dictate how he decides to mourn uInga though it would've been great if he'd do so at home, or at least inform someone of his whereabouts. I'm sure that he's taking the time to process his grief in a space where he feels comfortable in being vulnerable. Yesterday he was in robot mode, doing what needed to be done, no questions asked and with no emotion, besides the time he broke down in my room. I wonder if Siya knows where he is since they're friends. I make a mental note to ask him after this call. "Ma, ubusewumxelele uMpumelelo?" I ask her. (Did you tell Mpumelo about Inga's passing)

Mpumelelo is my brother and is the eldest of the brothers. He stays in Pretoria.

"Ewe, ndimxelele kwayizolo wathi uzokwehla kwangoko. Ebethe useKomani ngoko bendigqibele uthetha naye so inoba seyezakufika apha endlini." (Yes, I told him yesterday. He said he was in Queenstown the last time I spoke to him, so he must be arriving at the house)

"Oh, okay ke. Ndizokumbona xa ndifika." (I'll see him when I arrive)

"Nilele njani nina noWami?" (How did you guys sleep)