01
If someone had asked me what love is, a year ago, I would have laughed in their face, or perhaps described the love that my parents had for me and my siblings growing up. The kind of love that takes care of you and nourishes you, the kind of love that would go to bed with an empty stomach so that you could eat. The kind of love that clothed you and made sure you had a roof over your head. That is the kind of love I knew.
Growing up, my parents were never from rich families, and that curse seemed to follow them even when they started their family. Until now, my parents still lived in the same huts they built thirty years ago when they had my eldest sister, Ndzalama. The same house where they raised all six of us.
When it came to children, my parents were blessed, unfortunately, their circumstances did not allow them to rejoice in that. From day one, they fought to put food on the table; my mother was a kitchen girl and my father was a builder. They had good jobs compared to others who had nothing. Even today, a part of me still believed that if my parents really wanted to make it in life, they would have.
But instead, they invested money in all of us with the hopes that we would change the situation at home one day, but it was one disappointment after another. Three of my sisters made it in life, they landed jobs as teachers, and then they just upped and left one day without as much as a cent to our parents; they did not even bother to lift the angled grass roof of our hut.
Things got worse when the other two passed away from sickness, and I became their last hope. It wasn't something that was forced onto me, I wanted to get my parents out of that house.
I was like every little girl out there; I wanted to be a doctor when I grow up, that had always been my dream ever since both my sisters died. I worked hard at school and I passed very well.
Everything was going well, I was almost done with high school when the boy named Jacob walked into my life. I was a young girl and naïve as they come; no boy had ever told me that they love me.
I fell in love and everything changed, and by the time I reached matric, I was pregnant. My parents were very disappointed, but they still had hope; they had hope in Jacob.
You see, one thing about Jacob was that he was an orphan; he was poor and had to survive on his own. He was already struggling to feed himself, at school he ate from the feeding scheme. Every so often, I brought him food from home or saved him some of my lunch so that he could eat at home after school.
So imagine the disappointment and shame when my parents found out who he was. They couldn't believe that their last born daughter was stupid enough to get impregnated by a boy who lived in a little, single room mud house.
They were not happy, and their rage clouded their judgement. After finding out who Jacob was, they demanded that I had an abortion, and that was the last stroke. I moved from disappointing them to defying them, I couldn't abort the baby, so they kicked me out with nothing except for all the clothes they bought me. My mother, although proud to accept that I was pregnant, gave me all the baby clothes she had stored away.
I moved in with Jacob in his little house, and I was eventually forced to drop out of school while Jacob continued with his final matric exams. Things were not so bad then, he was working part-time and luckily, the ladies who cooked at school were kind enough to give him the leftovers whenever they could.
I had absolutely nothing to do; I stayed at home each day and waited for him to come back home. Eventually, I gave birth to our son during Jacob's Midterm exams, and I knew then that my life had only just begun.
Jacob used the savings he had to buy a few supplies for the baby, and then he continued with his exams. I stayed at home until the baby was six months old, and by then, Jacob was done with his matric exams and was working full-time while he waited for his results.
You see, one thing I loved about Jacob was that he was intelligent, and everyone else knew it; the teachers and learners, they always said he would make it in life, and I believed it too. I made a promise that I would make sure that Jacob went to college.
The baby was growing up so fast that the house suddenly felt too small for the three of us. When he was seven months old, I got a job at the spaza shop right opposite our house, where I earned R20 a day. It wasn't a lot, but it was something.
January came, and matric results came out, and of course, as expected, Jacob passed all his subjects with distinctions like the A-student he was. Getting bursaries was difficult at the time, or better yet, we were less informed. Due to that, Jacob had to take a gap year and work to save up for his tertiary studies.
Schools reopened, and I got a job at the school we used to attend, as part of their feeding scheme. Working there was difficult for me, but it was necessary; I had to help Jacob save up for his varsity.
It took us three years to finally save up all the money he would need to accumulate his degree in finance. Those were the worst three years of my life, but I kept reminding myself that it was for a good cause.
Back at school, Jacob and I were almost at the same level; we were both A+ students, the only difference was that I was doing science while he did commerce. So all the attention and glory were saved for the both of us; he was going to be the first accountant in our village, while I would become the first doctor.
Imagine the surprise when I dropped out and came back a few months later to work as the cook. It was three years of torture, three years of scrutiny and humiliation. The teachers, the cleaners, the learners – everyone talked. Everyone was talking about how the great future doctor of our village had come to a dead end before she had even begun her career. After all, I was the girl who dropped out of school earlier in her matric year.
When the three years were finally over, Jacob was finally able to go to Turfloop University in Limpopo, and luckily, he was only a few hours away. He was working part-time while staying close to school so that he could provide for me and our son while we remained at home.
And I continued working at the school and things got better and better until one day, things just turned upside down. A food poisoning incident at the school. You see, I'd come to depend on the leftovers of the food we cooked for the kids, those had become our daily bread; from the porridge and beans, to porridge and soup, samp cooked with beans. That was until we all got fired, and we went our separate ways.
It was so hard transitioning to that woman who had to buy groceries every month, except it wasn't really the same. We didn't have electricity where we lived or, to be more specific, in our mud house. We used woods and fire to cook, and candles and an old lamp for lighting. So, when it came to buying meat, we had no fridge, and thus had to ask the neighbours to store for us, and we gave them R20 as our contribution to the electricity bills. Except our actions were but futile, it wasn't until one day when I went to take some meat that I found out they had eaten it and didn't even feel the slightest regret about it.
That's when I had to turn to vegetables and canned stuff, something my son reacted badly to. I only found out a night after we had canned fish that he had rash all over his body, and I had to rush him to the clinic.
Years passed, and I worked here and there, and saved as much as I could, and then the time came for my son to start school, so I bought everything he would need; uniform, backpack, and shoes. Luckily, at the time, they gave them stationary for free at school.
As for Jacob, I hadn't heard from him for years, it was like he had disappeared off the surface of the earth. He sent some money sometimes, but that's all I got from him; no letter, no phone call – nothing.
He had never even returned home once.
It wasn't until the first day of school, when I walked my son to school, that I finally saw him. It was on that day that I saw why they say money changes people.
You know that saying about how people will only stick with you when it's beneficial? Well, that's the situation I found myself in as I stood in front of Jacob at that moment.
He had grown so much, it was actually hard to believe that it was really him. He looked nothing like that poor boy who grew up alone in a mud house; he looked so matured and sophisticated – and that he was.
Furthermore, he no longer wore rags or walked barefoot, he was wearing a three-piece suit with a bow-tie, and his black shoes were just a cherry on top as they shone against the sun.
I couldn't believe it was really him. Even our son did not recognize him because honestly speaking, he never bonded with him in those three years before leaving for varsity, and even if he did, Salv would never have recognized him.
Speaking of Salv, he was so excited about his first day of school and couldn't wait to show his friends his new uniform. He was so restless, I had to let him go alone.
“Bye-bye, Mhani!” He waved before running into the school.
I waved at him and then turned to his father. “Jacob.” I tried to hug him, but he pushed me away. I stumbled back and looked at him in surprise, but he just trailed his eyes up and down my body in disgust.
My eyes followed his eyes and that's when it dawned on me that I was wearing an old washed-out dress with some holes and stains on it. I looked back at him and realized that we were not in the same league. My heart throbbed, but I didn't pay any heed to it.
“Why didn't you tell me you were coming back today?” I asked with a small smile. “I would have prepared something for you.” I was suddenly feeling small in his presence.
He didn't answer me, if anything, he looked annoyed by my presence, and my stupid brain thought perhaps it was because I'd ruined the surprise.
“Amukelani,” he finally said, a small smile on his lips. “It has been years, how have you been?”
I shrugged. “Fine,” I said awkwardly as I looked around me. Had it been that long since I'd been to this side of the village? It looked so different, you would swear one was in the city.
This was part of the village where rich people with bigger houses stayed, you wouldn't even find a single mud house in this section. I wondered what Jacob was doing here.
We were currently standing in front of a massive mansion, well suited for a president; it was a three-storey house painted in white and blue. The yard was paved and filled with expensive cars. The owner of the house was clearly well-off.
“Uhm, what are you doing out here? Are you coming home?” I asked, and I didn't miss the flinch of his face as he cringed. I frowned at him, wondering what was wrong because he looked rather uncomfortable.
“Amu, we need to talk,” he said heavily.
I got excited because we had so much catching up to do. “That we do, I have so much to tell you about what you missed while you were away, and I want to know all about PLK, varsity; how your course was. I also would like to show you your boy's graduation pictures–”
“Honey, I am ready– oh, hi!” A woman greeted while stepping out of the yard, and then she came to stand next to Jacob.
I was mesmerized by her beauty. She was beautiful and elegant, and had the skin colour of coffee with creamer. She had long hair, well-polished nails, and a great body. Not only that, but she was the anatomy of beauty, and I couldn't help but notice the glow due to her pregnancy. I'd never seen her around, and I doubt she was from here at all.
All the praise and worship I had for her died the moment she opened her mouth to speak. “My love, is this the maid you were talking about?” She asked, hooking her arm with Jacob's.
It took a while for everything to click, and when it finally did, I felt like my world came crushing in slow motion. “What?” I asked in barely a whisper.
Jacob shifted from one foot to another like a man who did not know his story. “No, uhm… My love, this is an old friend of mine, Amu. Amu, this is my wife, Tshireletso.”
Everything came to a standstill, and I felt like I couldn't breathe.
“Nice to meet you, Amu,” she said cheerfully with a radiant smile on her face, and all I could do was nod my head slowly. “Would you like to come in? We were about to eat.”
I scoffed, not believing what was happening right now. “No, thanks. I have to go to work,” I lied. I didn't even wait to see their reaction, I hurried away as if I couldn't get far enough from them.
