Noma and Kea

CHAPTER 4

It’s Friday again, it’s Saturday, Sunday WHAT. I wake up and roll to my side and then to my back. “Good Morning” he’s in my room holding breakfast. I scream and wake up and Immediately look at my door investigating it. Take a deep breath of relief, Ntokozo burst in screaming, “What’s wrong?” she asks as she looks around the room and sees nothing. “Nightmare” I reply. “Oh OK” she says and went back to her room. My heart was beating fast. This never happens to me especially since I haven’t had a boyfriend since Varsity. Katlego, in all honesty, I think he was just tryna get in my pants because, ja no that boy wasn’t serious. He forgot my birthday once OK to be fair, I don’t think I even remember his birthday. Did he even tell me that’s the question? You know what Noma you have a lot on your plate whatever this is you are gonna have to deal with it later, time to go and make Breakfast.
I roll out of bed and head to the kitchen and Ntokozo is on the couch, “Babe I wanna undo my hair will you help me?” I ask her.
“Sure” she says.
I am guessing she isn’t going into work, because she is still here and hasn’t taken a shower yet. I walk to the cabinet and take out 2 bowls and some Cornflakes. Pour some into the bowls and add milk and sugar. Ntokozo still sitting on the couch scratching her head. I am sure you are wondering why I am making breakfast for the 2 of us? Well simple, Baby girl like cooking can’t make a bowl of cereal to save her life, poor thing. SMH. We sit and watch TV, and we are still watching the Wife and as someone who has read the books herself. If a man was like let me drive you to work, I WOULDN’T DARE ENTERTAIN SUCH, I DON’T CARE IF IT’S A FERRARI OR A SPRINTER, AH NEVER. Mara you see Nkosana ja guys, a man like him that deep voice and the way we both Zulu meaning we can both make some fine Zulu babies. LOL
It’s 11am, and Ntokozo walks to her room, and comes back with scissors. I sit on the floor and she cuts the extension of my braids off and starts untying the rest of the Braids. Once done we go to the bathroom. I sit on the edge of the bathtub and we start washing my hair. 2 months I have had those braids in, it’s time to let my natural hair flow. The warm water, I can feel it on my scalp, she tosses some shampoo and cleans it thoroughly getting her nails deep in there and rinse it off. She uses the blow dryer and blows my fair while combing it and I look in the mirror at my poofy hair and I swing side to side and it starts shrinking. I have always loved my natural hair; it has always been something I took pride in having cause, I feel it grounds me to my roots.  When I see pictures of my Grandmother she always had an Afro, she was always beautiful, my father always says I look like her; if I can look like her I don’t care about anything else in this timeline.
My phone rings I look at it it’s Stephen, “Hey. Oh they outside alright cool. Thank you again” I say and hang up. I walk to room and to be honest, I don’t wanna sell this one but, if I want my work showcased. I have to give them what I think is best for that theme. It’s hard being an artist. I lift up the painting wrapped in protective wrap and shuffle my way to the door and down the stairs I went still shuffling. I should’ve went downstairs and opened for them then let them carry it down to the car. Here I am. SMH. Wearing pink pyjamas and slippers walking down to the gate holding the painting on the side. I open the gate and the courier guys come wearing gloves and carry it into the back of the truck. I inspect the packaging, I glance to my left and low and behold there they are again standing parked in the middle of the road. They came in the Skyline and he is wearing, blue slacks and a polo neck with a gold chain. He has his arms crossed leaning on the car as he looks down and then looks up. This is the first time, I noticed his ears they are above average. They are early today, usually they come at 4pm and this is the first time I see them coming on a Friday. He scratches his ear and whispers something to the loud one who this time isn’t as loud and pulls out his phone. “Right, we are good to go” says the delivery man. I snap out of my trance, “Thank you guys so much” I start walking to the gate and open it and when I close it. It’s his eyes again piercing through me, this time I look back at him but I can’t stand here looking at him he might catch offense. He pushes of the car, so I turn around and nearly bump Mandla who is wearing a White hoodie and holding a travel mug, “Akies sisters” he says and moves around me and opens the gate. I rush back into my apartment and as usual watch them through the window and he walks back seems like he was talking to the delivery truck drivers. They all greet one another and speed off again. Yep that has been my life so far, whenever they come and pick up their friend I simply stand and watch them speed off.
I wonder why they always speed off, like are yall in such a hurry all the time you need to speed off come on now? Those piercing eyes can still feel them right on my back and in my heart. I wonder why they always come here to pick up Mandla, and I have never seen Mandla driving they always waiting for him outside and the one with piercing eyes definitely is the leader of the group. You can just see by the way they revolve around him; like the time I saw them for the first time. The way he spoke softly and quietly and the loud one calmed down. He is kind of like Nkosana in the sense that those boys revolve around him. Imagine if they were actually Gangsters and such, but they look too young to be doing that and they dress nicely, well he does. I don’t know about the others, but Mandla dresses casually the way you would expect any Adult too. The loud one is always wearing Tracksuit and a bucket hat and sometime a New York hat. The one in the back of the car he looks like the quiet one he never steps out of the car. Then there is the one with Piercing eyes he is always dressed nicely like he has STYLE you know. There we have it the 4 boys who always park in the middle of my street and speed of when driving.