Oyama: Her Story

CHAPTER 13

Last time we came here in a GLC, now we in the back of G-Wagon. Do they all have Rolls Royce’s, I mean. That would be interesting if they all did, but I highly doubt it.
“So why we not having dinner in Bryanston?” I ask.
“Ah, I’m tired, and I wanna spend time with my baby” he says looking at me.
He’s such a charmer, “What did your dad mean by the stare?” he starts laughing.
“If your brother thinks, I’m the reason you got the bruise, I shouldn’t fight him, I should rather walk away” I start laughing, “Yeah, he practically said, ‘let him beat you up.’” The car turns onto the freeway.
We are all leaving in a single file, “So do you all have different houses?”
“No, uhm Mazwi, Mzi, Moqhaka, Thapelo and Mandla, live in Bryanston with their parents, so does Lethabo, but me Mogale and Kagiso have our own places”
“Why?” I ask.
“Eish it’s much easier that way,” he says looking at me. Is it because of me is that why he doesn’t live with his parents or what?
“Do your parents also live in Bryanston”
“No they live in Morningside” ok yeah they are really rich, I’m sure they all have mansions.
“By the way Mogale lives with me so if you see him there, don’t be surprised” he says smiling, I nod, with an upside down frown.

As the G-Wagon cruises down the freeway, I glance out the window, taking in the city lights of Johannesburg flashing by. The question lingers in my mind: Is he really living away from his family because of me? The thought brings a mix of emotions—part curiosity, part unease.
"Is it really easier because of me?" I finally ask, trying to keep my voice light, though the question feels heavy.
Qhawe turns his gaze to me, his expression softening, "It's not just because of you," he says, his tone sincere.
I look at him, “Then why?”
“I’m a man,” he says. Someone please explain to me, how do you go from sincere and communicating one minute, cold the next?
“So uyindoda that’s it” I say.
“Yeah, I mean how long am I gonna live with my parents, I mean crazy I say that but, the minute you fall pregnant we will have to move to Morningside, but for now, I’m enjoying my freedom” I turn my head slowly and look at him, mouth open.
“WHEN I’M WHAT?!”
“Yeah, its kind of a Mahlatji thing to keep the family close, we’ll have to move in with them” he sighs.
“I’m not moving in with your parents” I say crossing my arms.
“It will only be for a short period, plus the house is big enough for all of us to sleep in separate wings”
Wings? “How many rooms does the house have?” I ask.
“Twelve” he replies, and my eyes pop out. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the idea of living with his parent’s sink in. It feels heavy, like a weight pressing down on my chest.
“Twelve rooms,” I repeat softly, more to myself than to him, “That’s a lot of space”
Qhawe chuckles, reaching over to take my hand. His touch is warm, reassuring, but it doesn’t ease the tightness in my chest.
“It’s not as bad as you think, Oyama. It’s tradition, you know? We’re a family people, and my parents like to keep us close.”
“Close,” I echo, turning the word over in my mind. Close is good, but there’s a difference between close and claustrophobic.
“I just don’t see why we’d need to live with them. I mean, we’re adults, right?”
He squeezes my hand gently, “We are, but it’s how things are done in my family. When the time comes, it’ll make sense. Besides, it’s not like we’ll be on top of each other. The house is huge, and my parents are cool. You’ll get along with them, plus you’ll meet my mom tomorrow and then trust me you are gonna move from PE to Sandton”

I sit with the weight of what he said, on top of my head. Living with your parents after getting pregnant. It doesn’t sit right with me; I don’t know why. I bite my lip, staring down at our joined hands. He’s talking about a future I hadn’t even considered, one where we’re tied together not just by love but by tradition, expectations, and family obligations.
“And what if I don’t want to?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Qhawe tilts his head, studying my face, “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he says softly.
I quickly flip my head and look at him, “Wait, I’m doing what tomorrow?”.
He smiles, “You’re meeting my mom” My heart starts pounding, I have only seen pictures of his mom. In each picture she looks beautiful and radiant, little to no make-up, in each picture. Why is he only telling me now?
Now I have to meet her, “Don’t worry our whole relationship is based on you meeting her, so no pressure” he says sarcastically. I look outside and then back at all the cars following us. We make a turn and all the cars drive past us except one. We continue driving and I look forward and out the window. Looking at all the buildings passing by and people walking. We drive into the building and park next to the Elevator where Leon is standing, he’s still wearing a leather jacket and he’s leaning on his motorcycle.
We get out and he walks toward, “Dr. Mthobile” he says, its actually Mtyhobile, but he’s white I’ll let him have it. He leans into Qhawe ears and whispers.
“OK, go talk to my dad, whatever he says, that’s what we’ll do” he says. Leon nods and walks away, onto his bike and rides out of the underground parking.