My first day at the university was like a dream, as I never thought I would get there because of my parents’ divorce. My mother worked so hard for me and my siblings, raising us as a single parent and to make sure that we get better educated. Because of my parents broken marriage, I vowed to myself to have a good and different marriage.
My father was physically and emotionally abusive to my mother. Father would not come back home on weekends, and when he came back on a Monday he would act angry so that my mother would not ask him where he was coming from. My father’s behaviour affected me, and my siblings don’t know if he cared.
I really worked hard at the university so I made sure I passed. University life was rough because we were now out of our parents watch and could do anything with no boundaries, late nights and drinking alcohol. But I wanted to make myself and my mother proud, so I tried my best to be disciplined and remembered why I was there.
In my last year in University I met a handsome man. The first time I saw him I knew that he was the one for me. Kevin Moloi, a dark man in complexion, tall and masculine. The first time he spoke to me I was looking at his shiny moustache and his beautiful snow white teeth. Looking at Kevin in detail I wanted to steal a kiss from his lips, obviously I first played hard to get.
A few days later we become a couple, and we looked good together. It was real taste of love to me, being with Kevin. Amazingly, we were in the same career path: criminal law. Even my friends at the university always told me what a good man I had and that he was handsome.
Both Our families supported our marriage
We got married and had a beautiful house. Kevin was the man of my dreams, totally different from my father. We got along with his sisters. It was strange but wonderful to be called Makoti at such a young age.
When we attended family gatherings there was one Aunt Gladys. She always asked me and my cousins when we were getting married, when we were going to have babies, and when she had lots to drink she would embarrass us by talking loudly in front of people, saying my brothers gave birth to mafitwa, meaning women who don’t get married. To us that was embarrassing because getting married was the most important thing as far as our parents thought and an achievement. Due to our Aunt Gladys’ talk, we always hid in family gathering and wouldn’t want go the side she was sitting in, scared of the embarrassment.
Then, I was married; I was Mrs. Moloi, with no need to hide from Aunt Gladys. Even my mother would brag to her friends at the society and to her church members about my success, and that as a single parent she raised a responsible, beautiful lady who was now a lawyer and married to a lawyer.
Kevin, my man, that is what I called him, would buy me gifts and take me out for no reason, just because he wanted to. I was also happy and saw myself differently from the girls I grew up with.
Growing up in the township, there was that underground competition with the girls. We competed with our passed marks at school. We always had a competition about who had a nice boyfriend, and when a girl was dating a soccer player she would be a celebrity during that time. We competed with clothes and hair styles, and it was funny for me to get married and have a good life.
Growing up, my classmates said I would never marry, as I was not nicely built like them body-wise. I didn’t have a nice figure or well-shaped hips like them. Having my education, a nice car and being married to a guy who wasn’t from our township gave me an incredible status. Even guys who never looked at me started to greet me, calling me ausi, sister, as a sign of respect .
The fairy tale life ended
I got pregnant with twins, a girl and a boy. Kevin and I were over the moon; we started thinking of the babies’ names.
At three months into my pregnancy, we started building the twins’ nursery. It was gorgeous, and we could not make up our minds with the colours we wanted to use in the nursery because of excitement.
One night, Kevin was driving on the freeway and he got in a terrible car accident. I was sleeping, exhausted with my pregnancy. I mean, carrying twins was not easy. I got a call, it was a 011 number. I answered and it was a hospital. I was told that Kevin Moloi was in a car accident and had been admitted to Phila Private Hospital, which is 40 minutes away from our home.
I called Kevin’s sister, Lester, to take me to the hospital. I couldn’t drive because of the shock. When we got the hospital, I was told that the lady who was with Kevin in the car had minor injuries, but he was badly injured and could not talk. He had a life support machine.
My body was shaking. I felt like I had a fever and felt dizzy, was shocked and surprised about what the doctor said and could not ask who the lady was. Lester, my sister in law, saw that I was about to fall, and she held me.
When we got to my husband’s ward, he was not moving. I only had sounds of the life supporting machine. I saw drips and those hospital wires all over him. I stood there looking at my husband, crying and calling out his name. He was not responding.
A pretty tall and slim lady came to the ward, and she looked at me and said my name, looking surprised to see me there. It was a lady I had gone to university with. She had a bandage around her head. She asked me what I was doing there, and I responded that I was there to see Kevin, my husband. She cleared her throat and said she was engaged to Kevin and they were expecting a baby, that she was with him in the car when he got in the car accident.
I looked at Lester, Kevin’s sister, and she was speechless and staring at the lady with the bandage on her head. I cried and sat down, and I asked Kevin why would he do that to me. He was lying still on the hospital bed and not saying a word; he was in a coma.
I looked at this lady, and she was wearing the same engagement ring I had before I got married to my husband.
After a long time, I saw my father walking in the ward at the hospital. I was surprised as to what he was doing there. The injured lady screamed for her father and apologised for calling him so late. My father did not know what to do: hug me or hug his other daughter who I had not known about. My father had not come to my wedding he did not know my husband. It was clear that he had come to support his other daughter. I was sharing a man with this lady, sharing a father and we were both pregnant. It was us and Kevin Moloi, whether we liked it or not.
Tell us: What are your thoughts about Kevin and the narrator’s father? What do you think the narrator should do?