Oyama: Her Story

CHAPTER 63

Its been 6 months, since my first delivery and although, I had nightmares for a straight month, because I kept seeing Kabelo’s open eyes. Somewhere around the 3rd month, they just stopped and it stopped haunting me.
Me and Kim are still, ‘Together’ but not together, I apologized for my behavior for the way I was on Saturday and said, ‘I needed to leave the room, because not only is her boyfriend someone I know, but he is a cool guy’.
She forgave me, and we cool ever since then.
Katleho has been trying been trying to win me over, but you know, I still play it safe around her, I can’t be catching feelings.
She’s tried to break up, with her boyfriend and I told her not to be Stupid, because WHY ARE YOU RUINING THINGS?
YOH BASADI.
The only one who I’m serious, but not serious about is Asemahle. There’s something about this woman, that I don’t know, worst part is I haven’t had sex with her and she has this hold on me. I have labelled it as uMthakathi(Witchcraft), because why am I so drawn to her, I mean we both have a connection and even when we take time off from one another and we pick up where we left off.
I sip my coffee and glance at my phone, where her number stares back at me on the screen. I haven’t texted her in a week, and she hasn’t reached out either. It’s not unusual for us; we both like our space. But every time I think about her, there’s this ache in my chest. I could be with Kim or texting Katleho, but Asemahle’s face is the one that lingers in my mind. She’s the only one who makes me feel like I need to be better—not for her, but for myself. And yet, I keep my distance. I can’t afford distractions in this line of work, and Asemahle feels like a dangerous one.
Before I can overthink it, I put my phone down and start getting ready for the day. Saturdays are always busy. Mandla and Tips are already out at the rank, and Lucas is probably at soccer practice. The house feels quiet without them, but I like it this way—just for a moment.
As I head out, I get a message from James: "Meet me at the gym. 10:30 sharp."
I glance at the time. It’s already 10:15. Shit.
I rush out the door, hailing a taxi to get to the gym as quickly as possible. The ride is uneventful, and my mind drifts as I stare out the window.
It’s been six months in this game, and I’ve learned a lot—more than I ever wanted to. But I’ve also made enough money to pay for school fees, groceries, and even stash some cash away. I mean we drinking Coffee nowadays, yeah its Ricoffy, buts its coffee, fridge is always full, shit, I have enough to buy new couches, I mean the ones we were sleeping on, already had springs poking out.

I sit down at the coffee table and James sits in front of me, a glass of Whiskey in hand sipping, “Have the Nightmares stopped?” he asks.
I nod.
“How much you got left?” he asks.
“Pardon?” I ask.
“How much you got saved up?” he asks.
“Enough” R300000.
“Let me ask you, what do you spend your money on, because, I don’t see a change in your style or anything” he says.
“Well, I pay water, then Electricity, so we stop using candles, groceries, I give my brothers money each for themselves, a month back we went shopping”
“How much you spend?” he asks.
I drop my hand, “Just over 20K” I say, “They needed new clothes”
“What about you?” he asks.
“What about me?”
“Did you get anything?” he asks.
“Nah” I answer.
“Why not?” he asks
“You gonna laugh” I say.
“Try me” he says.
“I wanna dress like you, but I don’t know where to go” I say.
He nods, “Start off simple”
“What?”
“Start off, simple, go to Markham, buy 2 slacks one blue, one black, buy 2 shirts, one white, the other Blue, light blue specifically, then you buy Oxfords or Derby’s, but not Monk straps. I swear Don you buy Monk Straps and I will kill you”
“What the fuck are Monk Straps?” I ask.
“That’s good, keep it that way” he says, I lift my hands in disbelief, “Jewelry, you still young for that, but glasses, I suggest getting Rimless frames any brand, just make sure they are rimless trust me” I nod appreciating the knowledge, “Don’t forget the most important thing,” I shrug my shoulders, “A belt, a belt completes the fit, just buy a black one doesn’t need to have a shiny buckle, simple one will do”
I nod, “Why you wanna dress like me?” he asks.
“Because you got swag, I mean, it was Conor McGregor who said, ‘fake it until you make it’, I wanna dress like you so I can see myself as a businessman and not as a delivery boy” I say. James leans back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass thoughtfully, “You got the right idea, kid. Perception matters in this world. People see how you carry yourself before they listen to what you’ve got to say.”