Real Wo/Man

2. The 'i dos'

Part two: The 'I do'

I loved weddings.
They obtained one of my biggest dreams as a child. I'd cried a snort-full so many times to be a flower girl but never succeeded to be one. I'd even been played by cousins who'd fool me because 'I was a child' and they'd tell me I was their flower girl only to find out on the wedding day that I was an insignificant guest who didn't even have a seat at the table because my mother was too poor to receive some kind of respect.

She wasn't poor.

She was just too pretty and in love with a television mechanic who drank like a fish to fill up his cauldron of a beer belly. I swear to God, at that age, I was convinced his round stomach possibly carried fat triplets.
No one in my family had been married since 1990 and I was born in 1997, so tough luck on me. When my mom's sister got married, she had her own daughter who is the second granddaughter to me, and she always lived my dream before me. I loved her too much to hate her. If she was any kid, I am sure I would have made sure she didn't have the smug on her face every time she visited.

I was not a monster.

I was a kid that enjoyed eating chicken and rice just like any other kid, but only got to eat sadza and cabbage to survive and drank water instead of coca cola. Which is why this wedding was important to me. It meant I'd finally get to eat nice food. Nice food equals a full belly which equals a smile on my face. A smile on my face means no one will be crying because of me so, everybody is happy.

A hen crooked early in the middle of the morning, my grandmother woke up from the bed all anew and crossed over me. I didn't have a bed. I slept on the floor next to grandma's bed because I peed myself every night. I didn't have a mattress either, all I had were two blankets one on the floor and one to cover me. I pretended to be asleep as she jumped over my body and to the bathroom. Endured the pain of laying in my urine while she showered and got ready and left to the kitchen. Then I woke up.
I hadn't slept since the middle of the night because the floor was digging into my bones as the blanket was wet.
I'd disappointed myself, as always.
I went to shower, picked up my blankets and ran cold water in the bathtub and filled it up. I poured OMO over it and marched on it. After washing and putting my blankets out on the line I climbed on the lemon tree near the hedge and called over for my friend. The sun was already frying us, and it was only about seven in the morning.
"Dax!" I called. He didn't come. I called again and he finally approached me. Dax was shorter than me and a bit chubby, but he was a cute little guy. He was my boyfriend.
"Be quick my mother will be mad if she finds me here" he whispered.
"Okay, I won't be here today" I matched his tone, rushed and whispery.
"Okay" he said.
"Look after my barbies and my tea set" I instructed.
"Okay" he nodded.
"Make sure no one makes fun of Esther. If they do tell them, I'll put dead rats in their school bags" he knew how important this was. Esther was a 17-year-old friend of mine with down syndrome. People made fun of her and I dealt with those people.
"Okay, bring me cake from your mom's wedding"
"Do you want a big one?"
"Yeah"
"Okay, bye"
I climbed down the tree. Music was already booming. Women were inside the house, kids in the veranda and men outside slaughtering a cow. I circumvented the house and went to the back garden to my granddad, and two of my uncles.
"Khulu, can I help?" grandpa glanced over my uncle who was now skinning the cow.
"Thandeka, go inside the house, you need to get dressed"
"But I want to do this, they are boring in the there" I begged, pulling a sad face.
My grandpa was a very dark man, he had a big afro with some small shades of grey in it, half of his face was covered in a big bush of a beard. He had a scar at the corner of his nose reaching down to his upper lip. He'd got it from a car accident in the 1990 wedding. He looked rough like he and Shaka Zulu came from the same womb. And he glared at me, squinting his dark eyes and I remained frozen waiting for his answer.
"Okay, thath'umense" he said pointing towards a line of knives. "uGog'wakho won't be happy" he shook his head as he continued with his work.
I hopped to the chair and grabbed a knife, sharpened it on the stone and took a spot by my uncle side and started carving between the skin and a layer of fat. For a moment I paused and watch the knife between the skin and a layer of fat. I wondered, was I strong enough to plough that knife into a human being? I blinked away the thought and reminded myself, my mother wouldn't be marrying him if he didn't make her happy.

Therefore, there was nothing I'd rather do than skin a cow on my mother's wedding day.