Oyama: Her Story

CHAPTER 58

I left the thought, that the fact Qhawe’s father name and Phiwe’s brother’s name means the same thing in different languages to pure coincidence, I don’t know too much about the history between Phiwe’s mother and Qhawe’s father to make an informed decision. But I know it's really rare to name a child, ‘Ndabelwe’, it’s a really rare name, I have never even heard of it until the first time we met.
I won't lie. It is a beautiful name. But like I said, I don’t have the necessary information, so I’m gonna introduce the 2 to each other and wait for his reaction.
Am I being extra? Yes.
Do I care? Not a fuck in the world.
Right now, I’m sitting in Mxolisi’s Range Rover and we are driving to Qumbu. I don’t know why, but he’s driving a bit too fast for my liking, its as if he’s trying to get rid of me.
You see having an older brother, mxm, and he was the one who said, I have a, ‘Return Policy’ but look at him he’s driving fast.
Mxm hai.
I have also been given a list of things I need to do, when we arrive at his family’s gate. Apparently, I need to lie down on top of a grass rug and only stand up when I feel like the money his mother has put down is enough for me to stand up and walk into their family’s home, at that point I will be fully fledged member of the Kolobe clan.
“Kahle kahle, where is this place?” asks Moxlisi.
“Oh we are already here, its just that the gate is really far” I say, he looks back at me confused. What?
Its 400000acres wide, of course the gate is gonna be far. Of course he doesn’t know that. Mxolisi exhales sharply, gripping the steering wheel tighter as we continue down the dirt road flanked by endless fields of grazing cattle and open sky. His jaw tightens, and I can tell he’s trying to mask his irritation, but his tone gives him away.

“There’s the gate” I point as we drive closer to the Bold black gate with the symbol of a Boar staring at us and the words, ‘Kolobe Estate’ written on the bottom, boldly and black.
There’s 2 security guards with assault rifles, who raise their hands up to stop us, Mxolisi lowers the window down and they look inside and sees me.
He turns around and talks into his arm, and walks back to us, “Uhm, nifunani la?”(What brings you here) he asks.
“Ngilethe umakoti ka’Mahlatji”(I have brought the Mahlatji’s bride) Mxolisi answers.
He nods, “OK, well you are gonna have to wait until they get here” he says.
He nods and rolls up his window.
I guess they are really gonna come all the way here, from the main house. Mxolisi steps out and walks to where my Uncle’s parked behind us. They start unloading the gifts and everything. They move my kist to the front of the car and slam it down and 2 of my cousins sit down on it. The ‘Mohlobolo’ is also here, Qhawe’s father insisted that if we don’t wanna bring any gifts its fine, but the one thing that we need to bring is ‘Mohlobolo’ its very important to him, it’s the binding seal, that says every child me and Qhawe have are children of this clan and that I cannot wear tights when going to bed. YERRRR. No kodwa Bandla, hai.

I get out of the car and breath in some air and stretch, today my dress is Black and blue, with a black and blue shawl and headwrap.
“Hai, kanti, where are they?” Phiwe asks.
“They are coming, their house is just far from here” I say.
Asemahle, Phiwe’s mother walks forward to the gate.
She’s looking at the gate and soaking it in and stands up and walks back to us, “Congratulations again” she hugs me.
“Thank you” I say, hugging her back.
There’s a car revving and the ground is being crunched, it’s a Rolls Royce. It’s the same one me and Qhawe drive, well he drives whenever, we are going anywhere, its followed by 2 other Ford Ranger Raptors with his brothers standing in the back. The cars move closer and the gate starts opening and the security is asking for the cars to be moved backwards so there’s enough space for the gates to swing open. As the gates swing open, a mix of anticipation and nerves settles in my stomach.
The Rolls Royce pulls up first, and I catch a glimpse of Qhawe in the driver’s seat. His jaw is set in that confident way he always carries himself, but his smile—wide and unmistakably proud—softens his intimidating presence. Behind him, the Ford Rangers come to a halt, and his brothers jump off the back, their energy electric and full of excitement. The scene feels larger than life: the Rolls Royce gleaming under the sun, the dust settling around the entourage, and the vibrant hum of my family’s murmurs and chuckles as they watch this grand entrance.
“Yah neh,” Phiwe mutters beside me, folding her arms, “You didn’t tell me you were marrying the mafia.”
I elbow her lightly, “Behave,” I whisper back, though her comment earns a smirk from me. Qhawe steps out of the Rolls, dressed in his traditional attire- a blue and black Sepedi shirt with patterns.
He walks closer, with his father, next to him and his mother right next to his father.