Surviving High School.

chap.78

It's the Monday of umemulo ka Zodwa and my aunt, Zodwa's mother has made sure that any task handed to me is done by someone else, I don't understand why she refuses for me to help because her and my dad are blood siblings which makes me her niece. "Sanibona Bantu abadala. (Good morning my elders.)" I greet as I walk past my uncles who are having tea or maybe traditional beer? I have no idea but it's still early in the morning so I'll assume it's tea. 

Right now I am walking from MaZulu's house to MaTshabalala's house to give her my traditional attire so that she can fix it for me, seeing as how I'm all belly and such. I arrive at the door and knock. Even though MaTshabalala is married to my oldest uncle, Baba's oldest brother, she is seen as the younger wife because Baba and MaZulu got married first. 

Dumizulu, her son, opens the door. "Ya Yandi. How can I help you?" I hold the plastic on my right hip, feeling my left side ache. "Is your mother here? I've brought my skirt to be tailored." He moves from the door, allowing me to enter. "She's in the living room which I hope you know where it is because I'm not going to show it to you." I nod, "I've got it, thanks." He leaves the house, closing the door behind him. 

I walk to the living room making sure to knock on the door frame before entering. "Aww Yandi, is that everything?" I nod, "Yes aunty. Hello everyone." They greet me back. "Okay, I don't want to waste more time so Yandi, follow me please." I nod, waiting for her to walk past me and lead the way. "So, where is the skirt?" I hand the her the plastic. "Okay, manje uma wakho uma ethi ngisilungise, ngilungisani ngoba sifushane leskeiti. (Okay, so when your mother asked me to fix this skirt, what exactly am I supposed to fix because this skirt is short?)" She shakes her head and tosses it to the side. 

"So should I go back and tell uMa?" She doesn't answer me, instead, she pulls out a plastic and from the plastic, pulls out a blue skirt. "Here, try this on." I take it from her hands and pull my dress off my body. It falls down to the floor but I don't pay attention to it, I wrap the skirt around my lower waist and tie the sides. "Ubhlani unakho? (Do you have traditional beads?)" I shake my head no. "OK. Wait here, I'll get some for you." I stand there feeling awkward and eventually, I sit down. 

"Okay, I've got blue beads here. I want them back immediately after the ceremony." I nod, "Thank you aunty." I untie the strings of the skirt, pull it off, making sure to fold it neatly. I wear my dress and grab the plastic that aunty gives me. I walk out, making sure to say my goodbyes to the people in the house. I walk down the dirt road to my parent's house. 

"Oh Yandi, perfect timing. Come help me here." I see my distant aunt holding a bucket filled with water in one hand and the other is holding  large dish filled with sorgham and mealie meal. "What should I take Aunty?" She hands me the large dish. "Oh no. You can't possibly carry that Yandisokuhle. You're pregnant for heaven's sake. Go watch the kids or something. Bring this over to me." MaZulu calls me from the door. "But Ma, I can take it." She shakes her head. 

"Don't make me angry wena. Bring that over here. And besides, you're not exactly cleansed to be carrying traditional beer, you might taint it." I can't help but feel hurt at her words. "Ok." I hand it over to her and walk away. As I'm walking away, I hear my aunty chastise my mother. "Couldn't you have been much nicer to the child?" I am far away so I can't hear the rest of the conversation. 

I find myself at the river once again. "Well it must be my lucky day." I turn to the voice with a jump. "You scared me." I use my hand to cover part of my forehead so that I can better see the person. "Bhut'Muzi." His face changes instantly and he comes to sit besides me. "I don't remember introducing myself to you like that. Wherever you got that name from, please discard it." I shake my head, laughing at both his words an facial expressions. "There's that beautiful smile." I shy away from him, turning my head to the side.