Oyama: Her Story

CHAPTER 42

The kids have been buzzing all day about this trip, I let them have a free period because they can’t stop chattering enough to focus on their work. The bell rings ending the school day, “Don’t forget to get those forms signed OK” they all run out.
I pack up my work and carry it in a box and start walking to my car.
“Bye mam!” says one of the students.
“Don’t run, you gonna fall!!” I say.
“I can’t stop, there’s a Lamborghini parked outside” he says.
And he falls.
I walk up to him and help him up and dust him off.
“Look where you are running” I say.
“Yes mam” he says and dashes off again.
I walk to the gate and there is a Lamborghini parked outside. This is rare given where we are. The kids are all staring at it with awe and its just parked in the middle of the street. I walk to the car and knock on the window, they roll the window down.
“Get in” he says.
“What?” I ask.
“I said, I was gonna pick you up from work didn’t I” says Mazwi.
The kids around the car erupt in a collective gasp, followed by excited chatter. I feel their curious eyes drilling into me, and I instinctively glance over my shoulder at the crowd gathering around.
“Mazwi,” I hiss under my breath, “What are you doing here? And in this car? You’re causing a scene!”
He leans one arm on the steering wheel, his other hand resting casually on the car door. That trademark confident smile spreads across his face.
“I told you I’d pick you up. Did you think I was joking, ma’Gatsheni?” The murmurs around us are growing louder.
One of the students, probably Zolani, shouts, “Mam, is this your boyfriend?” Laughter erupts. My cheeks burn, and I glare at Mazwi, who looks thoroughly amused by the spectacle.
“Get out of the car,” I say, trying to sound stern.
“Why?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Because I have papers to grade, and because I’m not about to let the entire school think I’m getting into a Lamborghini with a stranger.”
His grin widens as he steps out of the car, tall and imposing in a tailored navy blazer and crisp white shirt. The chatter escalates to squeals as he makes his way around to me, his movements deliberate and calm, as if he has all the time in the world.
“Here, let me take that,” he says, effortlessly lifting the box of papers from my arms.
“Mazwi,” I say in a warning tone, but he’s already carrying it toward the passenger side of the car. He opens the door and places the box inside, turning to face me with that maddeningly confident expression.
“You can either get in and we can talk, or I can stay out here and answer all the questions these kids are clearly dying to ask me. Your choice.”
I glance at the kids, who are all but glued to the fence, their eyes sparkling with curiosity. Some are already taking pictures with their phones.
“Fine,” I mutter, stalking past him and sliding into the passenger seat. He closes the door behind me and walks back around to the driver’s side, taking his time as though he’s savoring the moment.
As soon as he’s in, I turn to him.
“You’re impossible, you know that?” He chuckles, starting the car with a low, throaty roar that makes the kids outside squeal in delight.
“And yet, here you are, sitting next to me.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

“Yima woah, you are telling me the trip I paid for last year during June was for her kids?” asks Mzi.
“Yes” Mazwi says.
“Yoh weh yoh weh. Three Hundred Thousand gone” he says, “Did those kids even go on the trip?”
“Yes” Nandi replies, “And thank you, they really enjoyed it…”
“Voetsek man” Mzi burst.
“Yay, ao kahle Mzi”(Calm down Mzi) Qhawe lashes.
“Kanti why is it like, yall can’t see she’s taking yall for idiots” Mzi burst, “She’s probably not even pregnant”
“Mzi, yihlisi umoya”(Mzi calm down) says Mazwi.
“Mfanaka ase ngwanagao joh, bula mahlo”(Little brother, that’s not your child, Open your eyes) Mzi shouts.
“Mazwi is the only man, I have been intimate with” Nandi says.
“Yeah and I’m an Alcoholic” Mzi says.
“That makes no sense” says Mazwi.
“Exactly!!” Mzi shouts.
“Mzi I can understand your anger, but…”
“Ukhulumelani wena, why are you talking, kahle kahle ufunani la, awuyona ingane yalomuzi!(wait a minute, why are you even sitting here, you not even a child of this family) So why are you talking!?” he shouts.
Qhawe stands up and walks to were Mzi is sitting, “Funa ukuyenzani?”(What do want to do) he asks.
Qhawe lifts up from his seat by his shirt, and lands a hook to his face sending him to the floor.
Mzi stands up and charges at Qhawe, “So jwaela amasimba manje” and tries to punch Qhawe who block and hits him with a Hook then a body shot and then picks him up and slams him on the table we are seated at.
Mogale and Kagiso are holding Qhawe, “Suka nini udelela umakoti wami kanje!”(Since when do you disrespect my fiancé) he shouts.
Mzi groans as he falls off the table and gets up, he spits on the floor, “Fuck all of you” he says and turns away.
I look at Qhawe’s father who has his hand on his face, he’s definitely tired and its only 8am, he shakes his head and crosses his hands.
“I need a fucking drink” Qhawe’s father says standing up and comes back with a Whiskey Decanter and a glass and pours one for himself and downs it neat.

Mzi storms out of the room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway. The air in the dining room is tense, thick with unspoken words and simmering emotions. Mogale and Kagiso release their hold on Qhawe, who takes a deep breath, still glaring at the door Mzi disappeared through.
“Qhawe, sit down,” his father says sternly, his voice cutting through the tension.
Qhawe hesitates for a moment before slowly lowering himself back into his chair. His chest rises and falls as he tries to steady himself, his hands clenched into fists on the table.
Mogale sits next to him, a hand on his shoulder, silently offering support. Nandi looks shaken but holds her composure, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly, her eyes darting between Qhawe’s father and Mazwi, “This isn’t how I wanted this conversation to go.”
Mazwi leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable, “It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice calm but firm, “Mzi’s always been... impulsive.”
“Can you blame him?” asks Lebohang, “Here comes a woman from a family that beat up his Twin, not just brother his Twin. Shit no offense I’m with Mzi on this one, sorry lady I don’t trust you”
“No, but Mzi, he’s always been this way” says Mazwi.
“I’ll fucking say” Qhawe mutters.
“Yeah, but you are no fucking better!!” Qhawe’s father lashes, “You’re older. You are supposed to have more control!!!”
“He insulted my fiancé, he insulted Oyama!!!” Qhawe lashes back.
“I don’t give a fuck who he insulted!!!” his father says slamming his hand on the table, eyes furious. Startling me and Nandi.
I’m just sitting almost shaken by what happened, but it looks like its only me and Nandi who look shocked at this fight that just happened.

Its been a few hours and no one has said anything to anyone, everyone is in their own little corners, either on their phone or have their feet up. The only person who was talking was Lwandle and he was talking to Olwethu.
Lebohang found a way around the sling interrupting his gaming. He ordered one of those Play Station Portable’s from Amazon and had overnight shipping. He paid for it himself, kids got cash.
I thought Moqhaka may be a bit traumatized by all this, but he seems fine. I feel like to him, this just another day in the family.
Nandi and Mazwi are sitting next to me, he’s holding her hand. Nchoo. Makes me forget he was tortured.
Qhawe is in the kitchen making something for Lunch, looks that’s what he does when he’s stressed or doesn’t know what to do with his hands.
“Do you think your brother will ever forgive me?” asks Nandi.
“Mzi holds a grudge like a Crow, its never gonna go away” he kisses the top of her head.
I lean to Lebohang, “Do fights happen all the time?” I ask.
“Fists, are how we fix things in this family, you’ll learn that quickly” he says.
“Why not talk it out?” I ask.
“Talking only gets you so far before you need to rely on other methods, which is why we go straight to fists” he says.
I nod.
“Lunch is ready” Qhawe says.

We all walk to the dining room table and sit around the table.
“What are we having?” I ask.
“The rest are having pap and chicken, you and I are having Spaghetti Bolognaise.” He says. “Why are we having pap?” asks Mandla.
“Because I cooked, you wanna cook Spaghetti go ahead” Qhawe says.
“Well, well, well look who walks in” Mazwi says and we all look at Mzi.
“A man’s gotta eat right” he says hands in his pockets.
Qhawe’s father looks at him, “Alright sit down, and apologize to your sister-in-law and brother for disrespecting her”
He walks to his chair, “I’m sorry” he says and sits down.
“Apology accepted,” Qhawe says, “After all that body slam was too much” he adds and the table starts laughing.
Lebohang leans over, “We brother’s we fight, we don’t hate each other”.
I nod.