FORBIDDEN TIES

10.

Asente Khuzwayo

I am Asente Nandi Ngwenya Khuzwayo, wife to Mlungisi Khuzwayo, the love of my life, and mother to our beautiful twins. My world revolves around them, and I cherish every moment spent with my little family. To outsiders, it may seem like I have it all—a successful businessman as a husband, two amazing kids, and a beautiful home. But while I love my family dearly, I am also more than just a wife and mother. I may be a housewife, but I’m far from the typical stay-at-home type.

I own two luxury hotels, one nestled in the heart of Cape Town and another in my home country of Swaziland. It keeps me busy, but I’ve always found a way to balance my personal ambitions with my family life. The hotels allow me to explore my passion for business while giving me the freedom to be there for my children whenever they need me. Life has been good, and I’m blessed to have in-laws who treat me like their own daughter.

This past weekend was perfect. Mlungisi and I decided to spend the day with the kids at the Mall of Africa, enjoying some much-needed family time. The twins, Sedi and Abasante, are only five, but they’re already bursting with personality. Sedi is a mini version of his father—serious, calm, and a bit reserved, while Abasante is more like me, full of energy and curiosity. I live for moments like these when the four of us are together, laughing, talking, and simply being present with each other.

We started the day with grocery shopping at Woolies. I always take pride in selecting the best ingredients for our home-cooked meals, and my family often accompanies me to make it more fun. The kids love grabbing snacks, and Mlungisi always sneaks in extra items when I’m not looking. After shopping, we went to the movies, where the twins were glued to the screen, their little hands busy with popcorn. Watching their faces light up with excitement during the film made my heart swell with love.

After the movies, we went out for dinner at a beautiful restaurant, laughing and reminiscing about old memories. Mlungisi and I have always valued spending time as a family, and it’s moments like these that remind me why I love him so much. He may be a stubborn Zulu man with his own way of doing things, but he loves us fiercely, and that’s something I’ve never doubted.

But then Sunday came, and it was a little different. My husband, being the man that he is, decided we would have some alone time. The kids had gone to spend the day with their grandparents, and Mlu made sure we took full advantage of the quiet house. We spent the day in each other’s arms, talking, laughing, and making love. There’s something about being with him that makes me feel like the luckiest woman alive. We’ve been married for 12 years, yet he still looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world. Our love feels timeless, and even after all these years, the spark between us hasn’t faded.

When Monday rolled around, I expected him to be back in his usual work mode. Mlungisi is passionate about his businesses, especially Khuzwayo Logistics, and he’s not the type to miss a day of work. But this morning, something was different. He didn’t want to go to work, and no matter how much I begged him to get ready, he wouldn’t budge.

“Ngicela uye emsebenzini, Mnyeni wami Uzakufika usheshe bese uyabuya,” I pleaded with him, but he just laughed and pulled me closer.

“Nami angithi ngisebenza kanzima izinsuku zonke, namuhla ngifuna ukuhlala lapha no mkami,” he said, his deep voice filled with mischief. “The world can wait.”

I shook my head, smiling at his stubbornness. “Mlungisi, you know you have meetings to attend. We can have our time later.”

But his mind was made up. Today, it would be just the two of us, and in the end, I gave in. As much as I love being busy with my hotel business and managing our household, I also enjoy these moments when it’s just me and him. The intimacy we share is something I cherish. There’s an unspoken bond between us, a connection that goes beyond words. I never feel as safe and loved as I do when I’m in his arms.

It was almost 12:30 PM when the peacefulness of our day was shattered by the ringing of my phone. I saw the name flash across the screen and immediately knew something was wrong—it was the principal of my children’s kindergarten. My heart dropped.

“Asente, one of your twins, Sedi, has been rushed to the Nelson Mandela Children’s Hospital. He’s been vomiting non-stop, and we’re concerned.”

My world stopped. I felt like the floor beneath me had disappeared, and my breath caught in my throat. I rushed to Mlungisi, my hands trembling as I tried to explain what had just happened. In an instant, the loving, playful man who refused to go to work turned into the protective father I knew him to be. He grabbed his car keys without a second thought, and within minutes, we were speeding toward the hospital.

As we drove, my mind raced with worst-case scenarios. What could have caused Sedi to suddenly get sick like this? He was perfectly fine yesterday, laughing and playing like any normal child. Was it something he ate? Was he allergic to something? The questions kept swirling in my mind, each one scarier than the last.

Mlungisi, sensing my panic, reached over and squeezed my hand. “Sthandwa sam, everything will be fine. Sedi is strong, just like his father,” he reassured me, his voice steady even though I could see the worry in his eyes. He may be calm on the outside, but I know him well enough to understand that he’s just as terrified as I am.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, we rushed through the doors, our hearts pounding with fear. The nurses directed us to the pediatric wing, and the sight of my little boy lying in a hospital bed, pale and weak, broke something inside me. Sedi had an IV drip in his arm, and though the nurses tried to assure us that he was stable, I couldn’t shake the anxiety gripping me.

The doctor arrived shortly after, a calm and composed man who explained that Sedi had caught a severe stomach virus. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it had hit him hard, and he needed to be closely monitored for dehydration.

“I know it’s scary, but he’ll be okay. We’re giving him fluids and medication to help with the nausea. We just need to keep an eye on him for the next 24 hours,” the doctor said.

As I stood there, holding Sedi’s small hand in mine, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Gratitude that we got him to the hospital in time, gratitude that it wasn’t something more serious. But most of all, gratitude for this family that I’ve built with Mlungisi.

He stood next to me, his hand resting on my shoulder as we both watched over our son. The love I feel for him in this moment is indescribable. We’ve built a beautiful life together, one filled with ups and downs, but in moments like these, I’m reminded of why we chose each other. We’re a team, and no matter what life throws at us, we face it together.

As the hours pass, Sedi slowly starts to regain his color. His tiny body, though still weak, seems to be responding to the treatment. I sit by his bedside, stroking his forehead, whispering words of comfort as Mlungisi handles the paperwork and makes calls to update our families.

By the time evening comes, Sedi is sleeping peacefully, and I finally allow myself to relax. I lean back in the chair, exhausted but relieved. Mlungisi pulls up a chair next to me, and we sit there in silence, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

We may have had a terrifying scare today, but at the end of it, I’m reminded of how blessed I am. I have a husband who loves me, children who are my entire world, and a life that, despite its challenges, is more than I ever could’ve hoped for.

As we prepare to spend the night at the hospital with our son, I know that whatever comes next, we’ll face it as a family. That’s what matters most.