MY SPIRITUAL JOURNEY

THE JOURNEY OF ZAMA DLALA

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 
As I have promised myself. I'm in town busy as a bee. I didn't know that shopping is this therapeutic. Part of me wished that Mthoko was around to make my day much more lighter. I'm in KFC looking at the menu. I option for a couple of pieces and some fried chips. I know it's been long since my mum last ate KFC. With my hands full, I managed to get myself all that's I needed including new underwear’s. My dreadlocks are neatly twisted. As much as I don't like people touching my hair, today I let my fears aside and decided to look cute for the occasion. My parents are watching TV like a normal family for change.
"Linamanzenze iroom lakho mah?" I tease her. She tries hitting me with the remote I hide behind the couch.
"Leave my house right this minute." I laugh. I've heard that song since I can remember. I peep through the couch. Her husband is smitten like a love a sick puppy. I can't believe they making me watch Day's of our lives.
"Where is my meat?" I knew it? This woman never loved me but loves the benefits that come with. My father hands her the whole bucket. Great, just great! I come out of hiding.
"I don't want to go there." My heart is not at ease. Okay, maybe I am not familiar with them.
"One phone call from you and I will be there." My dad means it. My dad would move the world for me. I will do just that. I need to pack…

I feel like I don't belong here. It's just cold, and everyone is busy running up and down preparing for the ceremony, umhlonyane. I take a deep breath. I need to find something to do other than sitting here, not knowing what to do with my life. I will just browse through Mthokozi’s case. What I love about this story is that his identity was hidden. I don't know how the journalist got hold of this story.
“Shouldn't you be helping your sister out?” I lock my phone and shove it in my pocket. What could I possibly do when they have everything under control?
“Like what?” I ask, looking around. She scoffs.
“Sweep the yard or something.” That’s so low of her. But not that I expected anything better. I wish I had been home already. I don’t feel like I'm home. I avoid socializing with them as I find them very ‘toxic’. This woman knows how to set me off and make me unhappy. It’s like I am not even her child. What did I expect – she gives zero fucks about me. Or is it one of those cases where a mother would choose the best child that wins her heart. Another deep sigh. I take the broom from her and sweep the yard under the scotching sun. She walks away mumbling only God knows upsetting me even more. I shouldn't have come. My home is with my father and his wife. The yard is swept and clean. I am now told to make breakfast for the princess. I thank the heavens that I am the only daughter and child to my parents. No need to be competed with every chance one gets. I made the breakfast as been commanded. She’s eating like she does not like it.
“The egg has too much oil and it’s salty.” She complains. She should have done it herself ke if that's the case. I roll my eyes in exhaustion. This family is truly exhausting the hell out of me.
“Zama. Go make her another egg.” Her mother is busy throwing orders around.
“Use butter this time and a bit of black pepper. That is how I love them.” The princess says. She pushes the plate of food towards me. More like it’s being thrown. That is a sign of her telling me that I should pick the plate up. What else can I say? My mother never really recognized me. When am I leaving this house again?
I remake the stupid ‘eggs’ mumbling to myself. I give her the plate again and I hear her groan.
“Mum did you not tell her that I do not eat scramble eggs?”
Oh, hell no! You got to be kidding me! I did not sign up for this shit – lord knows I did not. I look at her mother for some back up. But no, she looks at her new artificial nails. I will not be taken for a ride. I just walked out of the house. I need some air before I lose it! I am walking forward. Where am I going exactly? I have no clue. But I want to be far away from these people as possible. I withdrew some pocket money and left the card at home. I don’t want to find myself misusing the money Mthokozisi left for me. I am still yet to go to varsity and that money will come in good hands.