MY SPIRITUAL JOURNEY

THE JOURNEY OF ZAMA DLALA

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
THE MBHELE’S

It’s been a week since the Dlala’s came to report pregnancy. The wife, Mrs Mbhele, has been on a different tune and mode ever since the news. The mood has picked up in the house. Better than the depressed wife that she has been for the past couple of weeks. He smiles watching her from behind. The way she is swaying her flat behind from right to left turns him on. They haven't been innermost for some time, and he misses her sushi. She turns around and sees her husband, she smiles and continues to wipe the counter.  
“I think that counter is more than clean now.” He chucks and shakes his head making his way to her. She smiles and fully turns around to look at her husband.  
“Hau baba. I don’t want my grandchild to come home to a filthy house.” She says beaming in joy. He takes her hand and kisses the back of it. She blushes. Now this is the love he wants to see in his wife’s eyes.
“I think I will be having competition with this child.”  
She laughs. Already he is sulking. Such a big baby.  
“First, it’s inspiring that your child is bringing new life into the world, that your offspring are part of your future, too. Second, it makes me care about the future of the next generation, generates hope for everyone’s future, as well as your own.” She says, poking his chest softly.  
“You seem happy compared to the last few days.” There is also some bit of glow unexpectedly. He loves it. But the lady is pretty good.  
“Couldn't be any better. My house was filled with coldness ever since Mthoko was arrested. I think it's time for me to focus on the positive. I am sure my son would have wanted that for me too.” She is right. Mthokozisi would have hated to see his mother depressed. He is a mama boy. A full-grown man with thirty-two teeth. With a thirty something age.  
“I know Mkami. And trust me. I am very delighted to have a mini Mthokozisi around the house. Hope he doesn't have a big head." He shakes his head smiling. His eyes land on his picture frame hanging on the wall. Mthokosizi used to be a shy, quite boy growing. All of that changed when he entered adulthood. He wishes that he could have stayed young forever with his thousands of questions. He sighs.  
“I know. I also wonder at some time where we went wrong.”  
“We did not do anything wrong Mkami. Our son is just being a nuisance for nothing. We did everything for him. Took him to expensive schools. Look where he ended up.” He sighs again. Maybe this will be a lesson that he needs to learn. The gate opens and he wonders who that might be. He excuses himself and steps out of the house. He frowns looking at Zama. She is looking like a dead zombie that just woke up from the grave.  
“What are you doing here?” he asks clearly confused. Zama walks right past him, but he gently holds her arm and notices that her eyes are closed. She is wearing a gown. Who walks around the streets wearing a gown?
“WeMaka Mthokozisi...” He shouts. Zama collapses right in front of his eyes. “Shembe!” He has his hands on his head. He rushes to the house to call his wife who is busy wiping the sink. Did she not wipe it this morning? She has become an obsessive cleaner just overnight.  
“Awushiye usinki phansi! Nakhu kufa ingane emunayngo bo!” With no questions asked. She throws the dishcloth in the sink and rushes outside. She stops on her tracks when she sees Zama laying helplessly on the ground.  
“What did you do to her?’ Her chest is already rising up and down.  
“Nothing. I don't know. She came in and just fell.” He says. His wife kneels to check her pulse and luckily, it’s there and strong.  
“We should take her to the hospital. Help me pick her up.”  
They both pick her up as heavy as she is. They both decided that taking Zama to the hospital is a good decision, but there is a problem. The door will not open.  
“Did you not take the car to the service last week?” She is furious. The car cannot have faults on a day like this.
“Call Nsizwana from next-door.” She is panicking to the core. What will happen if she loses this baby? This was her only hope. The more she thinks about it the more she stresses.
“I will open Mthokozisi’s room we will need to put her in there while we call for help. She is cold and that is not good for the baby.” Mbhele suggest. He is right. The cold is bad for both. He rushes to the main house to grab the keys for the back room. He struggles to open the door but eventually he does. His house looks clean, and his odor is vacating the room. He misses his son day in and day out. But he will have to be strong.  
“Let me pull her up.” He says. They laid Zama on the bed, and they put a blanket on top of her.  
“Do we call her parents? It looks like she was sleepwalking.” He is scared. He doesn't want to find himself in a case where he will be questioned by the law.
“I don't know Baba.” She has her hands on her waist. A heavy sigh escapes her lips. “I think it would be better if you reach out to her family. Maybe she is a sleepwalker. Maybe she is sick. Maybe it’s the hormones. I don't know baba.”  
“Hormones?” he asks with his eyebrows snapped.  
“Remember when...” Once she starts, she will never stop. She reminds him all the time.  
“That you used to like the smell of shit when you were pregnant with Mthokozisi.” His bile is rising. The smile on her face shows that she is proud of herself. He will never understand the hormones, but he was there either way. Annoying as she was.  
“Mkami. I will go to the girl's house and report. Maybe there is something wrong. Remember she is pregnant. She can’t be roaming around the streets pregnant. Just look after her and I will be right back.”