Oyama: Her Story

CHAPTER 49

Its been a few days since the day I came home and me and Phiwe are going through the Prenup, because we need to sign it before the conclusion of the Lobola negotiations or else it is ineffective. So here I am with Phiwe 2 days before the day of our wedding and we are looking at the Prenup, she has her glasses on and is reading attentively.
Baby Melomuzi is smiling and chewing on his fist, his chest is damp in saliva, and I’m making funny faces at him.
Ugh, I can’t wait to have my own. Look at this guy, I kiss his cheeks.
“Shiii” says Phiwe, “Mh mh mh, yerr”
“What?” I ask scared.
“I won’t lie, I wish I was you” she says.
“Why?” I ask.
“Girl as your lawyer and sister-in-law I’m obligated to give you my legal and familial expertise” she says.
“Yeah” I say.
“If I was you I would sign this thing right here right now, and just make sure I don’t cheat on him” she says.
“Why?” I ask even more scared.
“Ok firstly they are giving you a bunch of things” she says.
“Like?”
“OK, first and foremost, a house, in Port Elizabeth in Chelsea. You know it?”
“Yeah me and Qhawe lived there for a while” I say.
“Not only that they are willing to cough up a Divorce settlement of R15Million, and Child Support payment, each child receiving R50000 deposited into your account, until the children 16 at which the money will be given directly to the kids” she says I nod, “Now, here it does state, you guys have 50/50 custody, but this agreement is valid unless you get remarried, at which point the children will then go and live with their father at which point he will get full custody” she says.
“OK” I nod, “What else?”  

Phiwe adjusts her glasses and flips the page, her expression growing more serious.
"Now, here’s where it gets a little tricky," she says, her tone shifting into full-on lawyer mode, "There’s a clause about infidelity."
"Infidelity?" I ask, my stomach twisting.
"Yeah," she says, pointing at the page, "It states that if either of you is unfaithful, or there are signs of infidelity, the guilty party forfeits all financial benefits outlined in the prenup. That includes the house, the divorce settlement, and even the child support payments. Not only that they forfeit parental rights" I blink, stunned.
"Wait… parental rights? Are you serious?" Phiwe nods, her face a mix of disbelief and understanding.
"Yep. It’s a pretty intense clause, but it’s clear. If there’s infidelity—actual or even suspected—you lose everything, including custody of your kids."
"Suspected?" I ask, my voice rising slightly, "How do you even prove that?"
Phiwe sighs, tapping the paper with her finger. "That’s the grey area, sis. Suspicion alone wouldn’t hold up in court unless it’s backed by evidence. But this clause gives the family significant leverage. If things ever went south and Qhawe believed you cheated, his lawyers could use this to make life hell for you."
I sit back, holding Baby Melomuzi tighter as my mind races.
"That’s... scary. I would never cheat on Qhawe, but just the idea that suspicion could be enough to take my kids away…"
"I know," Phiwe says gently, taking off her glasses and rubbing her temples, "It’s not a standard clause, I’ll be honest. It’s pretty specific to high-profile families like Qhawe’s, where legacy and loyalty are everything. They’re protecting their bloodline, their name, their empire. You’re marrying into a world where trust is non-negotiable."

I look down at Baby Melomuzi, who’s now babbling happily, completely oblivious to the storm brewing in my mind.
“But check it out, here” she points with her pen, “Its says anything you have in your name or shared with anyone remains in your possession, and below that any gifts awarded are still given to you regardless of ownership”
I lean forward, squinting at the fine print where Phiwe’s pen is hovering, “Wait, so you’re saying…”
Phiwe nods, adjusting her position to face me fully, “It means anything you came into the marriage with or any assets or gifts Qhawe gives you during the marriage remain yours, no matter what happens. So, for example, if he buys you a car or gives you shares in one of his businesses, those are yours, even if things go south. They can’t be revoked.”
I let out a small breath of relief, though the tension in my chest doesn’t completely ease.
“So they’re covering their bases but still allowing me some independence.”
“Exactly,” Phiwe says, nodding, “It’s strategic. They’re ensuring that their family legacy stays protected while also keeping you financially secure and not completely reliant on them.”
I chew on my bottom lip, mulling over everything she’s explained. It’s a lot to take in, but I have to admit, it’s clear Qhawe’s family thought this through. They’re protecting themselves, yes, but it’s not entirely one-sided.
“Here is the motherload I was looking for, so according to this,” she reads her eyes focused on the paper, “DAMN!!!”
“What?” I ask looking at the paper.
“Your man is currently worth R400Million. DAMN, didn’t you say he was just a chef?” she asks. “He is, you have been to his restaurant he’s cooked for you even” I say.
“Damn, but yeah continuing it says, unless changed in, The Will he will inherit 15% of his father’s company shares worth R4.8Billion. You will be eligible for none of if it. damn” she says.