Lion of Soweto

Chapter 39

Who in Soweto doesn't know the lion?

Margaret's snub leaves Bandele livid. He purses his lips wondering if there's a single soul in Orlando who doesn't know him, let alone someone in the next street.

But his bruised ego quickly makes way while he watches as Sheline hurries away. When last did he set eyes on a lady so full of natural beauty, so reserved? Her physique is unique and her steppings spring with grace, even if it's evident that she's yet to taste money.

The randy businessman rips off her clothes, visualises her unclad, maps out her loin region and snaps into unimaginable fantasies. The gush of emotions makes him drool at the prospect of meeting her later tonight. Molefi will get her delivered to his bedroom.

He flashes a sideways wink at Molefi who reads it to be an urgent swoop. Even if Bandele didn't mention which of the two ladies is his choice, the lad knows Margaret isn't the target. Molefi feels Bandele's brewing aggression. He picks up his phone to dial Pono.

"There's a new lady you must work on right away – A student on Princewill. Slim, tall, chocolate-skin and smooth face."

"Okay, boss."

They head straight to Castro de Rovans club where VIPs hang out. This is his first outing to a night club since his talk-of-town birthday bash. Will Soweto people notch up their respect for him?

The SUV swerves into the parking space with a screech, flashing emergency lights as though to announce their presence. One after the other, each man exits the vehicle with some degree of swagger. Bandele himself emerges with poise, his neck chain glittering in the dusk. These aren't regular clients or reserved visitors. These are the men who rule the terrain. They won't enter a club like commoners.

Stepping into the club, Bandele gets a royal welcome as guests greet from the right and left, hailing him verbally and physically, some standing up to salute him military-style. He waves back with prolonged grins. Nas's hardcore rap swaps for Cassper Nyovest's Doc Shebeleza, changing the ambience in the hall.

As Bandele and his cohorts take their seats, six attendants circle their table taking orders for food and drinks. Ladies encircle him, sending rehearsed smiles of different intensities. In no time Bandele's table is abuzz with make-up aficionados and face-painting specialists. Their body sprays contest in the airwaves.

The Soweto Lion goes for pap and beefsteak, as usual, prompting Molefi and Akida to toe the same line.

"Feel free to order what you want," he tells the ladies who begin to study the menu as if they'll be sitting for exams the next day.

But while they eat and drink, Bandele makes no attempt to beckon on any. The young lady he met on the way here dominates his thoughts. Who was that Princewill girl his boys skipped all these years? Could she be a new face?

"Are you working on that sisi?" Bandele asks Molefi, unmindful of these babes seated around.

"Yes, boss. Pono is on her case as we speak."

"Good."

Indeed Pono and his boys are hard at work, gathering Sheline's details. Snooping on her won't come easy though. For one, she's not the type who walks around aimlessly. Residents have little to say about her, as Pono's boys soon find out, much as they dig around for information.

Two hours gone, tipsters fail to hand over Sheline's details to Pono. That she escapes their radar attests to her quiet nature.

"Nobody knows the lady," Pono says to Molefi who is now on his way back to the castle with Bandele. "She's new in this area."

"Nobody knows her?!" Molefi whispers in the vehicle, bearing in mind that Bandele overlooked several ladies in the club. Sheline weighs heavy on his mind.

"She's always indoors. People only see her when she's leaving and returning from school. But we now have our eyes on her."

Back at the castle, Molefi accosts Pono as soon as they alight from the vehicle, but the diminutive one has little to say. How is supposed to tell Bandele that the new girl won't show up tonight? Molefi reclines behind his desk, lost in thought.

Should he call someone on the CLL or RPL? What if Bandele isn't keen on meeting anyone else but Sheline? Thoughts joggle for attention on his mind until Bandele's voice reverberates through the house. "Molefi!"

The aide shows up at the lobbyroom, offering explanations before being asked a question. "We tried—"

"Where is the lady I spoke to in the evening?"

"Er... Pono is still on her sir. He said—"

"By this time?" Bandele glances at the wall clock which displays 8:03 pm. He lifts to his feet while staring at Molefi whose eyes are on the floor, downcast.

Based on recent events, his boys have stepped up their game. They can lay hands on any lady in this area at short notice using the computers and gadgets at their disposal. What could be the problem today that he decided to join them for a hunt? More so, this person in question lives close.

Bandele heaves a long sigh. "Tell me, boy. Why is she not here?"

"I was explaining, sir. She's very new. I'm sure she arrived two days back or at most a week, so we've not seen her before. But we're actively working on her. In two days at the most, her profile will be on our system. I'll make sure, sir." He peeks at the boss whose prolonged silence evokes fear. "Err...should I call one of the —"

"Shut up!"

Molefi stifles his back, both hands clasping to his groin.

Narrowing his eyes, Bandele stays mute for a minute or two, during which Molefi thinks of doing some praise-ranting. Slowly, he hears himself say. "Here comes the Soweto Lion, ATM in the kitchen bitcoins ..."

"Walk out of this room now, Idiot!"

Molefi complies politely, sliding down the stairs.

Unable to recall when he last spent a Friday unaccompanied, Bandele drops to the sofa, rueing his decision not to propose to her right away. Where should he start describing her beauty? Is it her height or regal steppings? Her shiny face or whitish eyeballs? Curvy mid-region or long legs? Straight shoulders which extend her neck? Or the noir colour that glimmers in the dark?

Her calmness points at good home-training. That she moved away from his Range Rover SUV is a miracle. Who does that in the whole of Soweto? That's the kind of wife he wants here – one who doesn't care about his wealth. Such a black beauty befits his status. No doubt.

With her, he'll drink wine all-night without moving one inch close. No gambolling. No cavorting. No bedmington. It will be a strong test, but he'll pull through. A married man ought to stay alone sometimes; otherwise, his woman will see him as a dog that has no control of his innate desires. But Molefi and his useless crew have ruined his chances to turn a new chapter.