Oyama: Her Story

CHAPTER 67

After a few hours of being introduced to a few Politicians and Real Estate tycoons, it was time to leave, I had to pull James by his belt, because it was near 5pm and all these guys have been saying the same thing. Leave before the Devil walks in and everyone who was telling me that, was already gone, including David Langa.
So me and James are on the highway, are heading back to Pretoria, “Ay you mind dropping me off at my girls place, I promised that I would see her, before the day ends”
He nods, “Where does she live?” he asks.
“Rietondale” I say. he nods.
“So what did you learn today?” he asks.
“That money can get you everything, but class” I say, he nods.
“Exactly, the corrupt politicians they always drop their masks, you just need to learn how to maneuver around that” he says.
I nod, “But I also learned, money is the sweetest thing next to getting pussy”
James chuckled at my crass remark, shaking his head but smirking nonetheless, “You’re not wrong, but if that’s all you learned today, you weren’t paying enough attention,” he said, taking the turn-off towards Rietondale.
I leaned back in my seat, glancing out at the golden hues of the setting sun, “Oh, I was paying attention, trust me. I learned that all these guys who look like they have it together are just as human as the rest of us. They just hide it better.”
“That’s right, it’s a cliché saying but it holds all the truth, money doesn’t make you invincible, knowing who knows what about you, with the money, shit not even God can touch you” he says.
I nod, “Ay stop right here she lives at those townhouses” I say.
“You going to fuck?” he asks.
“Nah, her parents are here”
“Aight, I’ll be right here” he says.
“Nah, I dragged you to that party, least I can do is take you home,” I nod and step out.

I pull out my phone and it rings, “Hi” I greet.
“Heyyy” she says.
“I’m outside” I say.
“OK… Mama ndizothenga amasweets!!!!” she shouts, before hanging up.
I stand at the corner, my hands are sweating, dammit. Why am I so nervous? I wipe my hands off my pants. Its December but so the next time, I’m gonna see her is next year, probably when we go back to school. Which is why meeting her today was so important, I’m gonna do this one right. I’m gonna do it right this time. I’m gonna treat her the way Ma said a woman must be treated.
Athi, ‘Umuntu wesifazane noma angathini, umphatha okweqanda futhi uzovula yonke iminyango yakho’(A woman, no matter what she says, she must be treated like egg).
There’s a sound of a gate opening and banging close. I turn around and there she is, my face immediately smiles, she jogs towards me and jumps into my arms.
I spin her around, she kisses me gently, and I put her down, “How was work?” she asks.
“It was good” I say.
“Come” she pulls me.
“Where we going?” I ask.
“We need to follow through with my cover story, so we need to go buy sweets” she says.
“OK” I nod.
We walk to the corner store, my arm around her, “You look very handsome” she says.
“Thank you” I say.
“Mh, I’m not gonna lie,
I’m gonna need you to stop dressing like this, because I don’t want these other girls seeing you” she says pouting.
I smile, and nod, “Don’t worry, actually today one of the older ladies tried to get me in private, nearly knocked her out. I swear”.
She laughs, “As you should, why is another woman talking to you?” I laugh and she laughs. I could listen to that all day.

We get to the corner store, and I can’t help but feel like this moment is something I want to freeze in time. The way she holds my hand, swinging it slightly as we walk, like we’re just two kids in love and the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Inside the store, she’s already picking up a bag of Jelly Tots and those sour worms she loves.
“Do you want anything?” she asks, turning to me with that playful grin.
“Nah, I’m good,” I say, watching her like she’s the only thing in the room. She picks up a few more things—Astros, Smarties, and a Fizzer—and heads to the counter. I reach for my wallet, but she’s quicker.
“Nope, I got this,” she says, pulling out a R50 note like it’s a declaration of independence. “Wow, so this is what it feels like to be a kept man,” I tease, slipping my hands into my pockets. She laughs, tilting her head back, and that sound fills the store. Even the guy behind the counter is smiling, probably thinking we’re one of those annoyingly happy couples.
And maybe we are, but I don’t care. On the walk back, the sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. She’s talking about something—her holiday plans, I think—but I’m barely listening because I’m too busy memorizing her face in this light.
Her skin is glowing, her braids catching the last rays of the sun, and her smile... it’s the kind of smile you fight to protect.
“You’re staring,” she says, catching me mid-thought.
“Can you blame me?” I reply.