MY SPIRITUAL JOURNEY

THE JOURNEY OF ZAMA DLALA

CHAPTER TEN

Day's went by. And today is the day that Mthoko gets his sentencing. It hurts, no lies. The more I think about tis, the more my anxiety kicks in. I'm never seeing him again. What will I do with the love I have for him? I don’t see myself falling in love after this. Love is crime. Two minute fame! I now hate it with passion. My father doesn't know that I'm here. I tagged Luisa along. I just don't want to be alone.
"Are you sure you want to hear and see?"
Her question is valid. But I need to be in there for him and our love. I want to see him. I won't say I will seeing him for the last time. You can’t predict this life. I'm grateful for her being here. It truly means a lot. The fact that she did not judge me when I told her everything, says a lot about her. I needed to talk to someone before I lost it. I take a deep breath.
"Yea. I want to do this." I've been doing a lot of crying lately. She gently holds my hand and squeezes it. It's the assurance she's giving me.
"Let's go inside." She leads the way with her pulling my hand. Looks like we are late. It has already started. He is standing there looking all lost. My heart aches into a million pieces. With his bent bent down, I'm sure he is  avoiding eye contact. His parents are here also. I continue to scan around until I spot Sizakele's mother. Alongside her is Mncedisi and two elderly men I've never seen before. Mncedisi spots me and waves smiling. I wave back and swallow hard. He nudged his mother, I greet her and she greets back. Guilt! Guilt! Guilt! I am now torn between the two. Who do I support at this point? I stare at the man that owns my heart. Our love story has ended. He lifts his head. A side smile creeps on his face. I smile back but quickly compose myself. Mncedisi is darting his eyes from Mthoko to me. From me to Mthoko. I compose myself and close my eyes briefly.
"Mncedisi is going to be a problem." Luisa whispers. I didn't think she noticed. I put my bravery on and stare right back at my man.

 
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I didn't expect to see her. And yet she came. Looking at her gives me a sense of belonging. I love her no doubt about it. I shift my eyes from her and look at my mother. She is a mess. I can't read my father's emotions. He may look strong on the outside but I know he is not okay on the inside. I smile looking at him. He prevents himself from crying. I wish there was a different route I took. Maybe if I had stopped and took her to the hospital. Maybe she would be still alive. To ease my consciousness, I decided to hand myself in. Not the best decision but the best choice. My mind jolts back when I handed myself in.
When I turned myself in, at a police station. The police took my statement, asked for identification, and was detained temporarily while they had to process my case. I was told - Whether I go to jail immediately depends on the nature of the offense, any outstanding warrants, and the decision of the authorities. I doubt I would ever be released on bail.
Even though I confessed that it was an accident. They didn't let me go free while they gathered information. They wanted to show that their Justice is straight forward. Which is very much ironic if you ask me.

As Judge Flügge, flanked by two other judges, said, "Mr. Mbhele, you are herby sentenced to twenty-five years imprisonment." I, the defendant stood there and listened, eyes cast down, then made the sign of the cross several times. I look at my mother whaling her lungs out. My father just walked out. I look at Zama and she has the shocked expression on her face. I love how strong she is. She will pass this phase. I believe in her more than I believe in myself.
I mutter I love you. She mutters back and holds her chest. I look at my mother breaking down. She rushes to where I am. She wants to jump over but she is being held.
"Mtho...Mthokozisi. mfana wami." She let's out a painful cry. It hurts no lies. A man jumps out of nowhere trying to attack me. Luckily, he was caught before he could try anything.
I am standing at the defendant table which is on the right in the court room and the defendant stands away from the centre of the court room so the lawyer and the prosecuting lawyer are closest to the centre. So, that the lawyers can access the area between the tables and the judge in case the judge calls them up or they need to give the judge some papers - the lawyers don’t have to go around the client. This also gives another separation between the client and the prosecutor or in a civil case the other client in case someone get violent the lawyers and the bailiffs have more time to get in between the violent people.
"Winja mgodoyi! You will rot in hell!" His saliva is spitting everywhere. I understand him being out of character.
I'm grateful for the distance between us or else, I would have been dead by now.
I am pulled forward. I ask for my lawyer to have a word with Zama before I'm taken away. He whispers something to the judge. Judge Flügge looks at me under his glasses. I look at him innocently. He sighs and agrees. I point out Zama and she is called to step forward. She is shaking. The boys mother is giving her a deadly look. She looks away.
"I love you, you know that." My tone is only for the both of us to hear. She smiles and her eyes glister. I wish I could touch her and give her a hug that will last for twenty-five years.
"There is a brown envelope on top of the bed in my room. That envelope is for you alone. Please, take care of yourself." She sniffs. A girls comes forward and puts her arm around Zama. I assume it's her friend. She smiles at me and I smile back.
"Please take care of her for me." I say. I just want her to be safe and happy again.
"I promise." I look at her for the last time and let my tears fall. The strong me that was there is replaced by fear.
"Mah. I promise I will be back in a better version of myself." That's a promise I'm willing to keep for along as I live.
"I will call every chance that I get." I say. My time is up. I look at my handcuffs. The first time I slipped my hands into handcuffs I felt them cold and firm against my skin. They were not comfortable, less comfortable even than I had expected. They didn’t allow my arms to rest comfortably and so I had to stand with my elbows out. They caused me discomfort. But I accepted them there, and let them rest. I have accepted that this will be part of my life no matter what. I no longer want to look at them. But I want to be far away from them as possible.